Caged (Talented Saga)

by Sophie Davis

  My mouth gaped stupidly. I had no idea what to say. At first, I was so stunned that I couldn’t even process his words. Then as the meaning sunk in, my blood began to boil. I fisted my hands at my sides and tried to swallow the blinding rage. In the same breath, Donavon had basically called me a slut and a tease.

  “Sucks to be lied to, doesn’t it?” I snapped, rooted in place. If I moved, my feet would propel me at him, and I’d likely punch the horrified expression right off of his face.

  Donavon paled and looked around nervously. “That’s different and you know it,” he hissed.

  “Yeah, it’s worse! I don’t owe you anything, Donavon. Isn’t that what you said? You didn’t want me to feel like I owed you? Or was that a lie, too? Because I think that we both know the real reason that you didn’t tell me – you’re too scared of your father!” I screamed.

  Donavon closed the distance between us, and I thought for a brief moment that he was going to strike me, but I refused to give him the satisfaction of flinching. I steeled myself for the blow, but it never came. Donavon clamped one hand over my mouth and backed me against the wall of the dorm. My eyes popped wide with disbelief; I’d have been less shocked had he actually hit me.

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he growled. His irises went black, his eye sockets elongated, and he sounded more animal than human.

  My own primal urges took over, and I sank my teeth into his fleshy palm. My incisors sliced through the skin and his blood trickled into my mouth. Disgusted, I jerked away and gagged, spitting red liquid on the perfectly manicured grass. The coppery scent made my stomach roll, and I bent over and dry heaved painfully. When I was certain that nothing more would come out, I scrubbed my tongue with my shirt sleeve to rid my mouth of the taste.

  Donavon stared at me, shocked and scared as bloody rivers weaved down his forearm to meet at his elbow. Two puncture wounds showed on the heel of his hand. He opened and closed his mouth several times in a good imitation of a trout fish. Then without another word, he turned and stalked off, leaving me confused and terrified in his wake.

  What just happened? Had I really bitten him? I’d felt like a cornered dog when he’d put his hand over my mouth to silence my spiteful words, but the faint smears of blood on my sleeve shamed me. I’d definitely overreacted. Donavon would never physically hurt me. How could I have bitten him?

  The part of me that was still fuming over his accusations wanted to run after him, demand that he apologize. But he really didn’t have anything to be sorry for; everything he’d said was true. I had done all those things, and I was wrong when I said that I didn’t owe him anything. At the very least, I’d owed him the truth about Erik.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  After the shortest trip to Medical on record, I rushed to the Crypto Bank. I needed to vent my frustration and embarrassment over the encounter with Donavon to Penny before I exploded. I knew that I was in store for a big “I told you so,” but I really didn’t care. Honestly, I deserved it. She’d been right about him and about us. Donavon and I were no good together; our story was a doomed broken record, repeating the same painful chorus over and over again: lies, secrets, lies, secrets.

  When I made it to the glass doors, the absence of bright red-orange was immediately apparent.

  “Where’s Penny?” I demanded as soon as the doors opened.

  “She was called away,” Gemma responded distractedly, removing her headphones. “No worries though. I have you all set up. This is Andel,” she added, pointing to the bespectacled boy sitting next to her.

  “Hi.” I waved dismissively in his direction.

  “Natalia.” He smiled nervously and replaced his headphones, returning to his computers.

  Reluctantly, I took my seat and began my daily grind. My brain warred between thoughts of Donavon and the task at hand.

  I’d barely made it through three files when the shrill sound of an alarm broke my concentration. Yanking my headphones off, I watched as Gemma hit a red button on her console.

  “Operative Reins,” she answered. She paused while the person on the other end of the line spoke. “Right away, Captain Anderson.” Pause. “I see the file now, sir.” Pause. “Affirmative, sir.” Pause. “Understood.” She hit the red button again.

  “What just happened?” I asked.

  “Emergency intelligence that needs verification,” she answered in an off-handed manner.

  “What does that mean?” I’d been sitting in this room for weeks, and had never seen something like this happen.

  “A Crypto unit at Headquarters came across information regarding the Coalition President that we need to act on ASAP,” Gemma explained, her fingers a blur as they flew over her keyboard.

  “Um, okay.” I was confused. “I still don’t understand.”

  “Protocol dictates that high priority intel needs independent verification to ensure that it’s legit,” she said patiently, her eyes never leaving her screen.

  “What constitutes high priority intel?” I asked.

  “Anything involving significant members of the Coalition and their movements.”

  “Like what?” I pressed. Gemma hesitated. “Like what?” I repeated. She didn’t answer. “Like when I was sent to Nevada?”

  “Yeah, like that,” she finally answered.

  “When the intelligence came in that Crane was in Nevada, what would have been the protocol?” I asked in a low voice. I was already on edge from my fight with Donavon, and it was hard to maintain control.

  “Given the nature of the information, the intel would’ve been sent to a second Crypto unit to be verified,” she answered.

  “Why?” I asked, struggling to sound calm.

  “To make sure that the Operative receiving the information wasn’t compromised that he or she isn’t a spy. Plus then there’s always the possibility that whoever intercepted the intel decoded it incorrectly.”

  “Does that happen a lot? The decoding incorrectly thing, I mean?” I already knew that we didn’t uncover spies on a daily basis.

  “On occasion.” Gemma shrugged. “Usually everything checks out and it’s not a big deal, but every so often the verification team finds a mistake.”

  I sat back in my chair, tapping my fingers thoughtfully on the desk. This was important, very important. Mac said that all of the Operatives on Penny’s team had been investigated, but what about the verification team? Mac was thorough – no stone unturned and all that. Yet, I had a nagging, uneasy feeling about the whole situation. Could it really be that simple? Had one of the teams made a mistake? One team, I’d buy - but both teams seemed unlikely. I needed to speak with Mac.

  Saying a hasty goodbye to Gemma and Andel, I set off for Mac’s office, praying that he was there. Thankfully he was, and his secretary waved me back immediately.

  “Who received the intel about Las Vegas?” I asked, barely through his door.

  Mac looked up surprised, but recovered quickly. “Penelope’s team at Headquarters,” he answered. “You know that.”

  “Who verified the data?” I continued.

  “A Crypto unit here at School. Why?” Mac seemed impervious to my brash manner.

  “I want to speak with the person who originally found the intel.”

  Mac gave me an exaggerated sigh and rubbed his temples, like I was giving him a headache. “Cal Simmons and his team have been questioned extensively. I am confident that they are not spies.”

  “Not by me,” I pointed out.

  “Natalia, the intel that we received regarding Crane’s presence in Las Vegas was real,” he said it slowly as if I were stupid or hard of hearing. “I explained this all to you already. I have you going through personnel files to find someone with the skills to infiltrate our system because we are certain that the intel was not planted. I do believe that we have a spy. I believe that someone gained access to your mission file and tipped off Crane.”

  “Mac, please,” I insisted. “You said that you wanted results
. You said that I should be questioning everyone who could possibly have accessed the information regarding my mission. So, please, let me talk to Cal Simmons.” I thought about willing Mac to let me go, but decided against it at the last minute. Mac really hated it when I did that.

  “What exactly do you hope to learn from Mr. Simmons and his team?”

  “I don’t know,” I replied, frustrated. Was I hoping that they’d made a mistake? Even if they had, did it matter?

  “Going to speak with Operative Simmons is a waste of your time, and time is something that we are running out of. His entire team has been vetted by me.” Mac didn’t raise his voice, but the way he clipped each word put my teeth on edge.

  “You said that the investigation was cursory, at best,” I nearly shouted, losing my temper. “You said that it was best not to alarm people. I can question people more comprehensively, and they won’t even know!” The sense of urgency that I’d been feeling ever since Gemma took that call grew with each passing moment. I took a deep breath. “Mac, I’m asking you to trust me. I know that I need to talk to Cal Simmons. I can feel it. Please,” I urged, careful to keep the nasally whine to a minimum.

  Mac studied me for several long seconds. “I’ll arrange it. Be ready to go around dinnertime.”

  I gave him a curt nod and turned to leave.

  “Do you want to talk to Operative Eisenhower as well?” Mac called after me.

  “Huh?”

  “Jennifer Eisenhower was also in the room when Simmons came across the information.”

  I turned slowly back around. “Anyone else?” I asked tersely.

  “If you’d been paying more attention in our first status meeting, you would know,” he gave me a pointed look. Admittedly, I hadn’t been paying much attention in that meeting; I’d been busy thinking ill thoughts towards Donavon.

  “Penelope was also there, of course,” he continued.

  I nodded. I already knew that – it was the only reason Penny had been privy to the specifics of my mission.

  “While you are at it, you might as well speak with the verification team – Grace Howard and Rider Trindel. They worked with Latimore, Simmons, and Eisenhower to compile the intel packet that you were given.”

  “Right, of course,” I stammered. I couldn’t fathom why Mac didn’t have me question all these people before. Sure, some other mind reader had probably questioned them, but I was an Elite-level Talent; I’d know if they were lying.

  “You have two days, Natalia. I firmly believe that this is a waste of time, and I will not have you chasing theories on a whim. I want results, and I want them now.”

  If I didn’t know better, I’d have thought that he was threatening me. Did he think that I didn’t want results? Did he think that I didn’t want to catch this spy, a hundred times more than he did? He wasn’t the one who’d been strapped to a bed. He wasn’t the one who nearly bled to death. He wasn’t the one who was injected with a cocktail of chemicals that our entire Medical staff couldn’t seem to find a cure for. I wanted to scream at him, make him understand how badly I wanted to find the person responsible for all of those things.

  Instead, I held my tongue and tightly replied, “I understand.”

  “Howard and Trindel work at the Crypto Bank here. I will have my secretary locate them for you.”

  “Thank you,” I replied, stiffly. I vaguely recognized their names from my months of sifting through files, but I didn’t recall either of them raising red flags. “Can I get access to the initial interrogation reports and their classified files?” I wanted to review the reports the initial interrogator made after he’d questioned them. I also wanted a look at any additional information the Agency had that might have been termed classified. I wasn’t sure what all was considered classified, but I figured it couldn’t hurt to see it.

  “I will have all of that information sent to your communicator,” he agreed.

  “Thanks, Mac.” I smiled.

  “I do trust your instincts, Natalia,” Mac said, his voice softening. “I just do not want to waste time on theories that have already been pursued. That being said, report any useful findings to me immediately. Call my communicator the minute you find something.”

  “I will,” I readily agreed. He might not be happy about my request, but at least he trusted me enough to let me pursue it.

  I’d already missed Annalise’s class and lunch, so I decided to just skip the rest of my classes, too. I wanted to question Grace and Rider as soon as Mac’s secretary located them before I left for Headquarters.

  I hurried back to my room, packed a bag, and waited impatiently for the files that Mac promised me. Cal Simmons and Jennifer Eisenhower were at Elite Headquarters, which was only a short flight away, but I figured I would be spending the night if I left around dinnertime. I had no idea how long the interrogation sessions would take; but if Ernest’s was any indication, it would be hours.

  Kenly was still in class, so I left her a message with a detailed workout plan for the evening. I felt marginally bad about abandoning my protégé, but this was way more important. Next, I called Erik; another advantage of the trip to Headquarters would be seeing him again. He didn’t answer, so I left him a comm saying that I would be there tonight and asking if he knew Cal or Jennifer. Finally, I called Penny and told her that I would be away for a day or so and that I’d explain when I saw her next.

  By the time I finished leaving all of my messages, I had two comms from Mac’s secretary. She’d located Grace and Rider; they were both working the two-to-two shift at the School’s Crypto Bank. I checked the time on my communicator: 2:40, perfect timing.

  Grace and Rider proved very easy to find; they were working together in one of the smaller rooms on the main level of the Crypto Bank. I glanced through the glass panel to the right of the door before knocking, and neither Operative was paying much attention to their monitors. All I could see was a pale, bony hand buried in a frizzy mass of blonde hair as the owner of the head and the owner of the hand tried to devour each other’s face while still sitting in their respective computer chairs.

  Stifling my laughter, I raised my hand to knock on the metal door. I banged three times as loudly as I could. The squeak of plastic on plastic assaulted my ears when Grace and Rider jerked their chairs apart. The soft tapping of Grace’s rubber-soled shoes on the marble sounded through the closed door.

  Grace poked her blonde head through. She was several inches taller than me, and her dark eyes narrowed in impatient glare at my unwelcome intrusion.

  “Can I help you?” she asked, sounding a little flustered.

  Oh, my God, get a room, I thought, irritated.

  “Actually, you can. Are you Grace Howard?”

  “I am,” she replied, cautiously.

  “And your make-out buddy is Rider Trindel?” I hadn’t intended to call her out on what I’d witnessed, but her flippant attitude irritated me.

  “Um, yeah.” She paled further.

  “I’m Talia Lyons.” I saw a spark of recognition cross her expression. “I need to ask you a few questions about the night you verified some intel from Elite Headquarters.”

  “You’ll have to be more specific. We verify intel all the time,” Grace replied glibly.

  “The intel regarding Ian Crane being in Las Vegas, Nevada, about ten months ago.” Grace swallowed thickly, and I knew that she remembered the mission I was talking about.

  “We already gave full reports,” she snapped, defensively.

  I locked her in a penetrating stare. Her right eye twitched nervously, and I invaded her consciousness.

  “You did give reports,” I started, slowly. “But not to me. You want to sit down for me now, and you want to tell me every excruciating detail about the intel that you verified about Ian Crane in Las Vegas,” I coaxed.

  “Of course,” she said, her features going slack under my control.

  Grace opened the door wider, gesturing me inside. The room was much smaller than the one that I u
sed with Penny. There were only two large computer screens hanging on the wall opposite the door with the now-all-too-familiar scrolling lines of gibberish. Two high-backed, black computer chairs sat facing the monitors. The owner of the white hand – Rider, I assumed – was craning to look at me as I entered.

  “Rider Trindel?” I asked.

  “Yes,” he said in a small voice.

  I shifted my concentration to him.

  “My name is Talia Lyons. You know who I am, right?” Rider nodded, jerkily.

  “Good. I need you to tell me about the intel you verified regarding my assignment in Las Vegas ten months ago. Do you remember it?” I didn’t have the patience to establish a connection with each Brain so that I could read their thoughts. Actively controlling them would make me tired, but I didn’t care just then.

  Rider nodded again.

  “I remember,” he said slowly.

  “Good. Grace, why don’t you start? Walk me through everything from the beginning.” I used the most soothing, patient voice that I could manage.

  Grace launched into her version of the events, speaking so quickly that I could barely keep up. She explained that she and Rider were working the eleven-to-eleven shift in the main Crypto room that night, and Captain Anderson had called not long after they’d started. He’d told her that Cal Simmons’ unit received intel that needed verification. He sent over the request, and Grace and Rider decrypted the data and analyzed the results; they determined that the intel consisted of partial plans for Coalition President Ian Crane’s stay in Las Vegas, Nevada. Grace had then called Headquarters and reported the findings.

  The next day, both Grace and Rider were ordered to abandon their normal assignments and focus solely on combing all electronic communications for information regarding Ian Crane and Las Vegas. The duo spent the entire week gathering intel on both subjects. They also continued to verify the data found by Cal’s team.