by J. A. Huss
But that’s how I stole a deadly infectious disease wearing a hazmat suit, got caught, was taken prisoner, then let go and left adrift on a life raft in the middle of the Caribbean Sea, had my first kiss with my first love, became a woman, and stayed a kid all in the same two-week period.
No pun intended.
CHAPTER ELEVEN - DONOVAN
MIND CONTROL IN CHILDREN: A CASE STUDY OF COMPANY ASSASSINS
INTERVIEW WITH INDIE, AGE 15.5
SESSION #87
DONOVAN: OK, Indie. Calm down and tell it to me again. How did you meet this girl?
INDIE: I told you. She came to me. She would meet Nate and I in the river town where we go to pick up supplies for his grandfather and eat ice cream.
How long has this been going on?
I dunno. Years. We’ve been going there for years.
And this girl? She met you there every time?
No. She was new last summer. Just popped up out of nowhere.
She’s a town kid?
No. I told you, Donovan. She’s like me. Only… from somewhere else.
I need you to start at the beginning and tell me everything. Do not leave one single thing out. Do you understand?
…
Indie!
I hear you. I’m just trying to sort out where the story starts, for fuck’s sake!
Don’t swear at me.
…
OK. So last summer Nate and I were in town getting supplies and ice cream—
How did you get there? Did you drive?
No. We take the boat. And don’t interrupt me.
…
OK. Like I said. Last summer Nate and I were in town getting supplies and ice cream and this girl was hanging out at a table and chairs near the ice cream parlor area. She was licking a cone. I think it was butter pecan but it could’ve been—
Indie.
You said tell you everything.
Unless the flavor of the ice cream is important to the story, leave that out.
Fine. She was just sitting there eating her ice cream while Nate and I were choosing our flavors. She was kinda messy. By that I mean her hair was wild and tangled. Like she’d been walking through the woods for too long and forgot who she was.
What did she look like?
I’m gettin’ there. She had blonde hair, like me. And blue eyes like me too. But she’s only twelve. And people were kinda side-eyeing her. Probably wonderin’ who the hell she belonged to. But it’s the swamp, and people come out of it at the weirdest times, and no townie people want to get involved with some random swamp child who turns up out of nowhere because you never knew who their daddy is. But I could not stop lookin’ at her. Because she was so obviously not of this world.
What do you mean?
She was a Company kid, Donovan. Even I could see that. Hell, even Nate noticed something was wrong with her. She looked like me, and she was young, and alone, and acting like this was no big deal. She wasn’t looking for her mama, and while she did have a fearful look on her face, it wasn’t the scaredy-cat fear you see in kids. It was the kind of mean fear you see in… men.
Did she approach you first? Did she try anything?
No. Nate and I sat down at our regular table to eat our cones in the air conditioning. And I took my chair, and he took his chair, and I was facing her. So she and I were looking at each other. And then she licked her cone and winked at me. Then she got up, threw it in the trash, and walked outside.
What did you do?
Well. I knew this was a big deal. And I didn’t want Nate involved. So I hesitated a little. And I ate my ice cream like normal. And Nate ate his—Donovan. You said tell you everything. If you want me to skip to the important parts, just say the word. But don’t give me that look when I tell you everything!
…
So I tell Nate, “You go do your shopping. I need to talk to that girl.”
Just like that? You told him you needed to talk to some random swamp child? And he—what? Said, “OK. Meet up with you later?”
He’s not as stupid as you guys think, Donovan. He might not know what we do, but he knows it’s not normal. And when I need him to butt out and let me take care of things, I give him a look.
A look?
That tells him I’m working now and he has to butt out.
And he’s fine with that?
I would not call it fine. But he doesn’t make a big deal.
OK. So you go outside. What did she tell you?
I was ready for her. If she was coming for me, I was ready for her. And she was years younger, so I wasn’t worried when I followed her down the block and into an alley. She was lookin’ over her shoulder as she walked, making sure I was following. So we get in the alley and she stops. And I walk up to her and say, “I really hope no one sent you here to kill me because I am not an easy girl to kill.”
What did she say?
She said, “He came for me when I was on a job in Mobile. And I knew about you from my handlers. So when I saw him I knew they were dead and he was coming for me next. So I ran off and found my way to you. I’ve been watching you for weeks now. I’m not here to kill you, Indie, but I have to tell you that he is coming for you just like he came for me.”
Who?
That’s what I said. And she said, “Nicholas Tate.”
Jesus Christ. Why the fuck didn’t you say anything last summer?
Because I knew Adam would not let her stay.
Oh. My. God. Tell me this girl has not been staying with us?
Not exactly.
Indie.
She stayed with Nate. His grandfather is so sick now, he needed the help anyway. So she helped him.
…
Donovan?
…
Donovan? Do you want to hear the rest?
Skip ahead to what happened today.
OK. So today we were in town. Angelica—that’s her name—Angelica was in the drug store getting Grandfather’s medication. Nate and I were in the hardware store because Nate needed some nails and glue to fix the carpet that was coming up in his living room, and when we came out, she was gone.
Gone where?
That’s what we said. So we went looking for her and found signs of a struggle in the alley where I first talked to her. Then we saw a trail going into the woods, and we followed that too. That’s when we saw them. They were screaming at each other down by the river. Angelica was bleeding from her nose and her mouth. I think he hit her in the face. But she hit him back because he was leaning to the side, clutching his ribs. Like maybe she got in a good kick or two. His lip was swollen and he was wiping a little bit of blood off it. So we missed the first part of the fight. But I knew she was putting up a good one. I started going in. I figured two of us against one of him? Those odds weren’t bad. But Nate grabbed me by the arm and put a hand over my mouth and dragged me away. And then that Nicholas guy, he tackled Angelica, and knocked her out with one punch. He threw her into a boat and sped away. I was so mad at Nate. So angry that he didn’t let me help her. But I didn’t want to hurt him so I couldn’t fight back. But I heard something, Donovan. And it scared me.
What? What did you hear?
He said Adam.
Tate did?
Yes. He was ticking off names to this girl while they were fighting. Telling her he knew everything. And he said… Jack or Jacks—something like that. And Chek, and Adam. I heard it. So he knows about us. He knows, Donovan. He knows about Wendy, and me, and Angelica. Do you think he got Wendy too? Do you think he’ll come back for me?
…
Donovan?
I’m thinking.
OK. But… Should I go and get Adam now?
Yes. Go get Adam.
SESSION #87 cont.
Close the door, Adam. And where’s McKay?
He took Indie outside.
Nicholas Tate jumped a girl upriver and took her.
What?
She was Company.
Wait. What the fuck are you tal
king about?
Indie just told me that she and Nate have been hiding a Company kid—a goddamned twelve-year-old Company assassin called Angelica—in Nate’s house, since last fucking summer.
…
Did you hear me?
…
Adam!
I fucking heard you. I just… don’t understand what you just said.
He came for her, or maybe Indie, I’m not quite clear on that. And he got this Angelica girl. You ever heard of her?
No. But how the fuck is Nicholas Tate in goddamned Louisiana? He’s supposed to be down in Honduras running drugs.
Well… I don’t know what you want me to say about that. Indie said this girl came to her and Nate last summer talking about how she was on the run from Nicholas Tate. They hid her in Nate’s house, and today, while they were upriver in some town getting supplies, Tate came, knocked the girl out, shoved her into a boat, and took her away.
…
He said your name.
What?
You heard me. He said your fucking name. Indie told me three names. Jack, and your dude Chek, and then he said Adam. This was your plan, remember? Nicholas and Harper Tate. James Fenici. Sasha Cherlin. This was your fucking plan and the whole thing is in play and you never told me a goddamned thing about this. What the fuck is going on?
I haven’t talked to Sasha in ten years, Donovan. This is not my plan.
Well, this has Sasha’s name written all over it. She and Nick are a team like McKay and Indie are a team. And he said your name, Adam.
I haven’t talked to Nick since we were kids. You know that.
I don’t know shit right now. We had a deal, remember? We were gonna do this together. Our way. And this is not our way and it is most decidedly not together.
I’m not a part of this. I swear to fucking God, I’m not.
When Nicholas Tate comes to steal a Company kid and says the name Adam… what can I do but assume?
…
Nothing to say about that?
It wasn’t me. Remember? Remember that time you told me there was another Adam in play? It must be him. Not me.
Hmm. Or… there was never another Adam and it was always you.
Donovan. Believe me—
I don’t know what to believe right now. I feel a huge disconnect with the team. I’m away at school and you three are here doing who the fuck knows what. I don’t know what else to tell you, Adam. I don’t even know what we’re doing anymore. I don’t know why we’re doing it, or what we’re getting out of it. And Indie… she needs help. You and I both know—have known for a long fucking time now—that I’m not going to be able to keep her sane.
Donovan. Listen to me. You’re all she’s had. I get it. You’re feeling responsible—
Fuck you, Adam. You’re responsible for this shit show. Not me.
You’re the one who told me to buy her.
You’re the one who’s been running her for the past four years. Not me. I’m just a way to ease your guilty conscious.
I don’t even know what you’re going on about. You wanted this, Donovan. For your stupid research paper.
Go get McKay. I’m done with you for now.
SESSION #87 cont.
DONOVAN: Where the fuck have you been?
MCKAY: Why are you taping this?
Because this is an Indie debrief.
Exactly. Indie’s debrief. Turn it off.
…
Turn it off, Donovan. Or I walk out.
SESSION #87 NOTES - PRIVATE
SESSION #87 NOTES – PRIVATE
I think it’s time to stop. I’m not even sure why I started this shit.
I’m not certified, I’m not equipped, and I have a really bad feeling that this girl’s mind has been fucked with by someone who knows a helluva lot more than I do.
And if this is Carter… well, he certainly had better teachers than I did.
Who am I kidding? No one taught me shit. I’ve been following a training manual twenty years out of date and making this shit up as I go.
It needs to stop.
CHAPTER TWLEVE - ADAM
NINE YEARS AGO
There is a really big part of me that wants to stay out of it. All of it. But this was my plan. I bought Indie with this endgame in mind.
And Nicholas Tate has been part of the plan since the beginning.
But Nick Tate and I don’t seem to be on the same page anymore.
The drive from Old Home to Daphne, Alabama takes about two hours and I spend every minute of that drive thinking about what I need to say and how it needs to be said.
Nick Tate’s story is as long and twisted up as that snake that wanted to squeeze Indie back on the island. The son of the Admiral, one of the Company Untouchables—maybe even the most untouchable, until he wasn’t, that is—Nick didn’t grow up like most people. Not like McKay, not like Donovan. Not even like me.
Most of his life was spent as an invisible. He was born on a superyacht. No birth certificate. No formal schooling. But trust me on this, no one underestimates his intelligence or his skills.
The last time I saw Nick we were plotting the death of our fathers.
That turned out fairly well for me.
But in order to save James Fenici during the Santa Barbara incident—another Untouchable, sociopathic Company assassin, in love with Nick’s twin sister, Harper—he ended up the prisoner of a Central American drug lord.
That’s where he’s been for the past ten years.
Or… not.
Since apparently he was here in Louisiana this morning and now we have a meeting in Daphne, Alabama.
Just as McKay was walking into the office to talk with Donovan the gate buzzed. I got in my truck, drove down there, and met a messenger who handed me a thick yellow envelope.
I tipped the girl, she left, and I found a burner phone inside when I opened it up.
One number in the contacts.
I pressed send and Nick picked up. “It’s been a long time, Adam.”
I noted three things about his voice.
One. It was deep. Ten years ago, we were still kids. Both of us just eighteen years old. We are no longer kids.
Two. He had a slight Spanish accent. And by Spanish accent I mean he sounded like a fuckin’ gangbanger.
And three… he was very calm.
Six words tell me a whole lot about what Nick Tate has been up to for the past ten years. Maybe I didn’t grow up on a superyacht, but he and I were cut from the same cloth.
“What the fuck did you do this morning?”
“I hear you bought one of them?”
“If you mean Indie, then yes. I did. And I do not fucking appreciate you showing up like this morning and scaring the fuck out of her.”
“Was she scared?”
“What do you want?”
He paused. Sighed. “There’s another plan in play. Right now, in fact. Everyone’s here.”
“Here? Where?”
“It’s a metaphor, Adam. All the players are back, but Sasha is the star of this show. You’re gonna sit this one out.”
“I don’t know anything about this. I helped her out ten years ago and I haven’t seen her since.”
“I know. This is her moment. We don’t need you.”
“So why are you here fucking up my good thing?”
He laughed, just a little, on the other end of the phone. “Good thing? You have one of those psycho assassins living in your fucking mansion, Adam. Did you know she was hiding that girl I caught this morning?”
I didn’t. But I didn’t want to admit that, either. Indie was decidedly off script. And when your little psycho assassin went off script and Nick Tate showed up from the dead to fill you in on it, things were a little more serious than simply… off script.
They were off the rails.
“So you got what you came for? We’re good?”
“Half of what I came for.”
My stomach roiled when I realized what that meant. He
came for Indie too. Just didn’t get her yet. “She’s mine, Nick.”
“No.” He paused. And I imagined him shaking his head. “No. She’s not yours. She is the Company’s. And before you tell me how much you paid for her, I already know. I know everything, Adam. She is not yours. She is mine. I run that program. She came from my training center.”
“And so… what? What the fuck are you doing? Taking them all back?”
“You could say that.” There was a long silence on the line after that.