Nobody argued that point. We all knew how precarious our situation was here. How dependent we were on a man who made espionage seem like child's play.
"What do you think that is?" I said to Alan, nodding at the small rectangular metallic device.
"I thought you might know, seeing as how you put it in here." Smart arse.
"Si?" I called. When he turned back around Alan threw him the device. He caught it one handed, frowned and then cupped it reverently in both. "What is it?"
"I think it's a transponder of some sort."
"What is it transmitting?"
"No, not just transmitting, but capable of receiving a signal and repeating it on a different frequency. It can also interrupt a signal and perhaps replace it with another. Incredibly sophisticated."
"What good would that do?" Emir asked, looking over Alan's shoulder at the rest of the gadgets lined up on the desk. Wisely, Alan had left Lena's money inside the bag. Just electronics of varying sizes filled the space in front of him, the lights in the room glinting magically of several shiny pieces.
"Television satellites use something similar," Si offered. "But why Lena would need one, I don't know."
Yeah, that was Lena. Another surprise.
"What about the rest of this stuff," I asked, nodding towards the impressive pile of technology spread out before us. "I know what most of it is, but some I just grabbed because it looked good."
"Magpie, that's what you are," Si quipped, but slipped out of his chair and moved to survey the table. "Decoders, night vision cameras, audio recorder," he said, the last looked like a pen. He kept pointing out items on the table. "GPS tracker, multi-frequency bug detector, audio jammer, keylogger."
"What's that?" Emir asked.
"Records every keystroke on a keyboard, so you can find out someone's password."
"Why would you need that? Shiloh only accepts retinal scanning."
"Yeah, but some people are even more paranoid than Shiloh and insist on old school passwords on top of an eScan."
Emir nodded in understanding.
"Document scanner," Si went on, indicating another gadget that looked like a pen. He smiled. "Hollow coins and make-up cases to slip your stolen intel out even when you're searched. I wonder what she's had to put in these? And this little beauty," he added, holding up something that looked like an over large bat, "is for aerial snooping. Reconnaissance, at a guess. She'd sometimes need an air shot of a building before she attempted to enter it."
"Cool," Emir said, awe lacing his tone.
"Then we've got a bionic-ear amplifier," Si went on. "Flexi or snake camera, reverse peep hole viewer, photonic disrupter laser pointers, infrared cameras, magnetic mini cameras, text discovery flash-drives, several miniature bugs, more decoders and a couple of different Shiloh interface hackers. That's about it. Pretty awesome really. Your girl's got some high-end gear. But then, you knew that, didn't you, boss?"
Yeah, I did. But the way Si said it, made it sound like that's the only reason why I'd pursued Lena. It wasn't. But it had certainly been a consideration in the beginning. Previously, I would have used that motivation as the sole purpose for my interest in a person, making sure the guys on my team all knew it. But that was when our rebel base housed more than thirty of us, and keeping them focused on a goal and not speculating on their leader's personal interests had been essential. Now, there was just five of us. Six, if you counted the subject of my eager pursuit. Hardly worth putting on an act for such an insignificant number of rebels, was it?
I scrubbed a hand over my face, tired of it all. It seemed like such a fucking insurmountable challenge. Even my father hadn't faced disastrous odds like I did.
How did we fight back from this? How did I lead these few people and the greater nation of Wánměi towards freedom?
Lena was the answer. She was the key. But damn if she wasn't going to prove the greatest challenge of all.
No one hung around waiting for an answer they weren't going to get from me. Maybe Si knew he'd pushed a little too hard on that last one. Alan methodically restored the gadgets and hid the bag in a cupboard at the rear of the room where Emir had set himself up taking over Kevin's old job; scanning the airwaves for sPol and iPol communications. Lately they'd been more Shiloh in origin than Cardinal.
I rolled my shoulders, getting antsy that Lena hadn't yet appeared. But I needn't have worried. As soon as she was spotted, on the hall cameras coming out of Harjeet's private quarters, the entire room went taut.
Oh, I'd known that was where she'd be meeting the conniving D'awan. Where else was there where we couldn't watch?
I stilled. Flicked my gaze over to the cupboard where Alan had hidden the duffel. Then looked at the vid-screens to see how long we had.
If Lena was meeting Harjeet on a regular basis, and keeping things close to her Elite chest, then we needed to find out why. What was the Honourable up to?
"Alan," I said, into the heavy and anticipatory silence of the room. They all knew I was fuming. Angry at Lena. Angry at our host. Angry about last night and not finishing what she and I had started. Fuck, I was a whole lot angry at the entire world right now.
"Yeah?" my second in command replied levelly. Waiting for the axe to drop.
"Gotta job for you," I said, eyes on Lena as she walked down the hall to her room on the vid-screen. "Actually," I added, leaning forward and scanning all the cameras angles one after the other. "This might take all of us. We'll need distractions, both for Isha and Harjeet. That will have to be you and Paul, Emir. Observation and co-ordination can come from Si, and Alan you'll be the sneak."
"Sneak?" he queried, already standing from his chair and stretching his arms above his head in preparation. "And what about Lena, boss?"
I smiled. It probably wasn't pretty.
"Leave Lena to me."
Chapter 20
Halting Even The Beat Of My Heart
Lena
Harjeet was very careful not to advise the nature of the item he wanted retrieved. Other than to say it was vital to our success. Ours or his, I wasn't entirely sure which. He did give a description of it - a simple flash-drive - and where to expect it to be hidden inside the penthouse suite at The Quay Resort. It wouldn't be the first time I'd gone in a little blind on a job. Hell, even at Arthur Chen's Wántel I'd only known I was stealing codes, but what the codes were for, I'd had no idea.
So entering a building with a goal in mind, but not being aware of what the goal would achieve shouldn't have bothered me. My endgame had always been the reward. The thrill of retrieval, the financial pay-off of success.
But this time, I wasn't sure if I had bitten off more than I could chew with Harjeet Kandiyar. Blast it, I was sure I had. The snake was one step ahead of us at every turn.
And now he'd given me an antidote, or opioid antagonist as Harjeet had said. Which, apparently, would counteract or block the effects of the opiate drug the drones' laser beams had administered. But that wasn't what had cost me the most. What would be my pay-off if I succeeded on this job.
Once I handed over the item Harjeet wanted, he'd give me enough of the antidote for Trent to use. Which left me with a defined window of opportunity to complete this heist. I had to be back with the item before Trent's paranoia kicked in and he tried to test.
Twenty hours at best. Twelve at worst.
I checked my watch as I stepped out of my shower, re-strapping it to my wrist. By midnight tonight, it would be done.
And all of it without alerting Trent or the others. Another Harjeet caveat.
Was he testing me? Seeing how far he could control me? Seeing how far I'd go for Trent?
I didn't know, and as I dressed in clean Citizen appropriate clothing, aware my attire this evening would be anything but, I couldn't help thinking I'd been played. Cornered by someone who manipulated the world around them far better than an Overseer ever could. A Citizen with characteristics that matched those of our oppressive rulers.
And we were w
orking with him? It made no sense.
I opened the bathroom door and walked into my room, flicking my fingertips through my hair as I did it. A second or two passed before I realised I was not alone. Trent sat in an armchair in the corner watching me. Left ankle resting on his right knee, shoulders relaxed, eyes half lidded.
The door had been key-code locked. One of my decoders sat next to him on the table.
I crossed to the dresser and picked up a brush before I spoke. Head down between my legs, the long edge of my hair touching the floor, as I stroked the brush through the strands. My rear was facing Trent so I could watch him through the gap of my legs.
His eyes were glued to my butt. Perfect.
"We need to find new accommodation," I said, finishing my distraction - admittedly payback for entering my room without permission - and coming upright, smoothing my hair back down again.
"Pardon?" he said, voice a little rough.
"We can't stay here."
"Why?" He knew why, he wanted to know why I did.
"I'm unsure if Harjeet is our friend," I offered.
"He seems friendly enough to you."
"A snake seems friendly as it dances, but you know it is all an act when you hear the hiss."
"Has Harjeet hissed at you, Lena?"
"Who hasn't he hissed at?" I threw back, and then took a seat on the edge of the bed. "Why are you here, Trent?"
"To offer first aid." He indicated a med-kit on the floor by his feet. I'd missed it completely. Maybe Trent could distract me as well as I did him.
I hesitated, and then slipped my t-shirt off, revealing a bra and nothing else. Trent smiled. Amusement not hunger. He knew what I was doing. Someone who so readily uses distraction techniques themselves can recognise the move in others.
"Turn around," he ordered, his voice quieter than before.
I obeyed and pulled my hair forward over my shoulder, so he could get to my laser injury unhindered.
"How long do you think you've got?" he asked, as he smoothed cream on the broken and burnt skin and then proceeded to bandage the site.
"Eight hours or so," I replied, keeping to the pretence that I wasn't cured. If I told him I was, he'd want to know how. And that way led to danger.
Harjeet would know if I disclosed that. I'm not sure how, but he would. He knew everything.
I couldn't even ask Trent if Si had swept more than the tech room until we were in the tech room to do it. Nowhere was safe. Not even the van, at a guess.
"What is your plan?" Trent asked, and for a second I thought he was asking me about my plans to steal for Harjeet. Then I realised he was asking about what I'd do when my time was up and the drug made me want to test.
It was a strangely surprising sensation to know he asked, as though I had a choice, and not just dictated as a leader would.
"I thought it best to not be here," I offered.
"We could lock you in your room. Then you'd ride it out somewhere safe. No chance of testing, completely contained."
He didn't realise that containing me was never going to be an option. General Chew-wen had done that. On more than one occasion. Even if I understood the benefits of what Trent suggested, as opposed to - for all intents and purposes - wandering the streets where I could test and be picked up by drones, I couldn't do it. I simply couldn't be imprisoned for that length of time and not go mad.
"I've evaded detection before," I countered, sweat starting to bead my upper lip as tension mounted throughout my entire frame.
I couldn't be locked down.
"It seems an unnecessary risk, is all," Trent supplied, so reasonably. As though he'd let me make this choice.
He wouldn't. Arguing for my freedom was futile. It made no sense. But the more I thought I'd be locked in this room, the more panicked I became.
I moved away from him, standing up and pacing across the floor. He'd finished bandaging my injury several seconds ago, but neither of us had moved. Now I needed space. More space than the room allowed. If we'd been back at the old Tehteh base I would have headed up to the rooftop, overlooking the abandoned airport, under an open sky.
My only option now was the tech room; the halls and communal spaces in this rabbit warren of a building were too small to give the illusion of space. My hand wrapped around the door handle, as I began entering the code to unlock the door on the keypad. Frantic now to get out.
I shouldn't have been shocked. I should have seen it coming. The key-code failed.
I spun around, my back pressed to the closed door, my breaths coming in small gasps.
"Easy," Trent said. He'd moved from his chair and was now standing right before me, concern and surprise on his face, darkening his eyes. "Lena, just breathe."
I shook my head, hair flying in every direction, my eyes searching for an escape. The window.
I raced across the room, uncaring that I pushed him out of my way. Clasping at the latch and making small sounds of distress when I found it glued in place. The entire window was glued shut. A soft rubber-like substance moulded to the edges, sealing the opening tight. My fisted hand came down on the glass, making a dull thumping sound. Not a rattle to be heard. It was solid. The glass on closer inspection plastic. Unbreakable. But my laser cutter would still do a decent job.
I moved from the bed where I'd been kneeling to reach the window, vaguely aware that Trent watched me with that same look of concern and surprise on his face. Grabbing up my handbag - one Harjeet had supplied - I searched through it desperately, already knowing it was not there, but at my Parnell Rise apartment. I hadn't had it on me when we'd attended the celebration ball. I hadn't managed to pick it up when I'd broken into my Parnell home. I hadn't been home again since then.
It wasn't here.
I threw the bag down in frustration and moved back to the door lock, using a file to flick the cover on the keypad to expose the wires. Trent had his arms crossed over his chest now, a scowl in place. I swiped up the decoder from where he'd left it, offered him a good glare as I did it, and then attached the leads to the keypad. Within fifteen seconds the code blinked green and the lock disengaged.
Relief coursed through me, making my shoulders slump and my heartbeat suddenly appear too loud inside my head.
Trent's hand came down on the door as I went to pull it open. Blocking my path.
"It's unlocked," he said, cajolingly. "Now will you sit down and talk to me?"
I looked up at him, still breathing too fast. Still needing to get out of here. Hating he was seeing me like this at all.
I could scale buildings. Jump off sky-scrapers. Break into secured vaults. Even, in the course of carrying out a heist, I could subject myself to small enclosed spaces, knowing there was an end to my terror in sight. A goal. A pay-off. But any other time, feeling trapped was my Achilles heel.
And now Trent knew.
Or maybe he'd already known. I'd panicked at Wáikěiton, hadn't I? Given myself away. So, why would he try to trap me now? Use this weakness against me?
"No," I said, Elite tones dripping off the word. "Get of my way."
"Lena," he tried. I pulled on the door handle, making it budge an inch, but no more. "Zebra," he added, pleadingly. "Just calm down. You're safe."
Was I? Harjeet was a snake. Trent was only concerned in the rebellion. Tan was AWOL and now possibly colluding with the enemy. Or at least, one of the enemies. Everywhere I turned I seemed to have more.
"Get...out...of...my...way!" I ground out.
His hands came up in the universal sign of surrender and peace.
I stared at them for a long moment not believing their message at all. Sweat coated my palms, so when I did finally reach for the door handle, my grip slipped. Rattling the door in its frame from the rapid release of the latch.
I kicked it. Realising I was still in bare feet. Then growled my frustration as I swung the door open, fresh air - or at least not so trapped air - washing over my face and making me gulp.
"Jesus, Lena," Trent wh
ispered. "I hadn't realised how bad it was."
I stepped out and then turned back to face him, my breaths becoming more and more normal as the seconds in freedom ticked by.
"There's a lot you don't know about me," I managed in an even voice.
"I'm trying to get to know more and more," he countered softly. "Let me in behind those walls, Zebra. You don't have to do this all alone."
I blinked at him, as he slowly took a step closer. His hands still held out and on display, showing he was unarmed.
But he wasn't unarmed, was he? He held power in other ways.
"Trent," I warned.
"No," he countered. "If you keep running, I'll keep chasing you down. If you keep building those barriers, I'll keep pulling them down. If you keep pushing me away, I'll keep right on coming back for more. You can't get rid of me, Selena Carstairs. I'm already too far into this to back out now."
Too far into this. Into what? Using me to get what the rebels wanted? It was a risk I couldn't take.
"I need to talk to Simon," I said, not bothering to argue this out with him.
Trent stilled, then ran a hand through the back of his hair in frustration, all while giving his watch a cursory glance. He shook his head, anger at something evident on his scowling face, and then he simply took the necessary step to come chest to chest with me.
I tried to move back, an embarrassing gasp leaving my mouth - too emotionally imbalanced right then to prevent it - but his hand snaked out and wrapped around my nape, halting all motion.
Halting even the beat of my heart.
"If words won't work," he muttered.
And then lowered his face very slowly towards mine, as though giving me one last chance to fight him off.
Hot lips finally met cold, trembling ones. Heating me. Sealing me.
Trapping me in a way where the panic was not all a phobia but something else.
And I realised, this power he had over me was perhaps the most dangerous weapon of all.
Cardinal, (Citizen Saga, Book 2) Page 12