by Nikita Spoke
“Are you working with Jemma, with both of us, or with all of us who were local?” asked Jack
Another rustle of papers. “You two, plus another four. I’m not at liberty to disclose names. I suspect you can guess.”
“And are you going to talk to us each individually or all at once?” Jemma asked.
Payton chuckled. “You two are gonna make my job really easy or really hard, I can tell already. Questions and initiative, I love it. I’d like to go ahead and get a basic rundown now, on the phone. Saves time. Later, we can meet in person, either individually or as a group. Whatever the situation calls for. Sound good?”
Jemma nodded at Jack, who answered for them. “Sounds good.”
“When you’re ready, then. Proceed, knowing that I’m recording. Tell me as much as you can remember, anything relevant.”
Together, they worked through their story, which seemed to be getting easier to say at each retelling.
“That should be everything I need from you today,” said Payton. “I’m going to speak to the others. I’ll call Senator Pratt first, for your file, since he was involved.”
“We haven’t been able to get ahold of him today,” said Jemma. “Not after we asked him to look into things for us yesterday. Could you call, or at least text, if he answers?” Her mother, she guessed, wasn’t the only one who could worry when there wasn’t an immediate response.
“Will do.”
After she’d hung up, she looked at Jack. “I’m starting to get almost used to telling people what happened. Parts of it don’t feel real.”
He nodded. “I know what you mean.”
“Is your dad still watching TV?”
“He was almost asleep when I came in here.” Jack stood and walked to where he could look into the living room, then came back and sat down, covering her hand with his. “Yeah, he fell asleep. Did you get anywhere with your search before the phone call?”
She shook her head, frowning. “No. Part of it’s just that I’m still slower than usual. It doesn’t look like he owns any property, though, at least not under his name in this county or in any of the surrounding ones. I can’t exactly search for whether he was renting in the area. That’s not something that’s online even if you use your rule breaking, not unless we start looking at whether he makes payments through online banking, and that’s probably a bad idea now that we’re part of the investigation.”
“Yeah, probably.” Jack smiled at her, eyes warm, and she returned the look before her lips pulled downward again.
“I looked at his social media pages, too, looking for any other friends he might have, people he might be in touch with, but he’s kept everything pretty aloof. He doesn’t seem to have any real friends, nobody who he’s actually interacted with.”
“You didn’t have to look through all that alone.”
She sent a surge of gratitude. “I know. I’d have asked you to join me if I weren’t okay. I don’t like it, searching for traces of him, looking at his picture.” On the social media pages, at least, he’d seemed to be striving for a cooler look, so she didn’t have to deal with the innocent smile that set her on edge so effectively. “I’m doing better, though, like I said this morning.” She smiled at him again and leaned forward for a kiss.
They pulled apart when her phone rang again.
“It’s the detective,” Jemma said, answering it on speaker, her brow creasing. “Hello?”
“Miss Tyler. You asked me to call if I reached the senator.”
“Oh.” She felt her shoulders relax. “He’s all right, then? You were able to speak to him?”
“Not exactly. Did he seem normal when you talked to him yesterday?”
“Yes?” Jemma looked at Jack. “He was busy, a little worried about his job. We don’t know him well, but I don’t think anything seemed that unusual.”
“He didn’t seem concerned for his safety? Didn’t mention anything out of the ordinary?”
Jack shook his head, and Jemma continued. “No. He just listened, said he would help. What’s going on?”
Payton sighed. “I couldn’t reach him, so I tried a few different numbers. They haven’t announced it yet, but police in his area are looking for him.”
“Looking for him why?” Jemma clenched her fist until Jack laced his fingers with hers, sending her reassurance.
“He was late to a meeting yesterday. He had mentioned needing to look into something, so his aide told everyone he’d probably gotten held up. When he missed another meeting today, they started searching.” He paused, and Jemma knew he had more to say. She swallowed, willing him to continue, to get it over with, while simultaneously willing him to stop, not to say anything else.
“What happened?” asked Jack. She closed her eyes.
“They’re not sure. They found his car in a parking lot. It had been abandoned. His keys, wallet, and phone were still inside.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO:
Ask Me
The private detective didn’t have much more information for them. It looked like Myles had probably been taken from his car just hours after he’d spoken with Jack and Jemma. So far, the police looking for him had no other leads, nothing to go on, and Payton said they were so confident they’d rounded up anyone near the senator with ties to Tricorp BioD that his disappearance had to be unrelated to the company.
He asked them to stay put, to stay safe, and he hung up.
Jemma stared down at her phone. Myles had stayed out of things for so long, had kept from speaking up because he was terrified of being taken, and now, after everything was supposed to be safe, it had finally happened. The police were treating it like a coincidence, but it couldn’t be. “It has to be Tricorp BioD who took him. Right?” she asked, Jack pulling her chair toward his so he could wrap his arm around her. “It’s the only thing that makes sense.”
“I think you’re right. It’s the company, or it’s some remnant of them. I can’t think of who else would take the senator.” He ran his hand up and down her back, placed a kiss to her temple, and she sighed, resting her head on his shoulder.
“And our liaison doesn’t want us to do anything about it. But Jack, if we’re right, if we’re not just being paranoid, then we might be next.”
“We weren’t just being paranoid, not any of the times we’ve taken action.” Jack leaned his face against hers. “We don’t have any proof, though.”
“Neither did he.” Jemma straightened, pulling away but taking Jack’s hands in hers. “He didn’t have any solid proof, either, but he got on the air, and he told the public what happened. It was enough to get a response, to get most of the company put away.”
“You think we should do the same?” He watched her, thumbs rubbing against her skin.
“Like I said, it’s getting easier to tell our story. We can make sure people know that the senator is missing, that it might not be the coincidence the police will say it is. We can make sure they keep Josh behind bars, since it doesn’t sound like he got that message to anyone. I’m not sure how much pull our liaison has, not if the police working to find the senator won’t even consider what we told him.”
“And seeing us, seeing the people who Tricorp used, seeing you, specifically, since you saved them, it might make the public more willing to help, knowing that we’re real, putting faces and names to our actions.”
Jemma looked down at their hands. That part made her hesitate. She didn’t feel like a hero, and she knew that’s how it might be spun, how people might hear things, might treat her. She’d only done what she had to do to survive, and she’d hardly come out of it unscathed. She wasn’t a hero; she was a mess, one who was pulling the pieces of her life together, who was finally starting to feel normal again.
Could she cope with putting herself so thoroughly in the spotlight?
“I can’t think of anything else we can really do,” she said. “I wanted to make sure the people at the news station I was captured at were all right, anyway, and I wanted to explai
n. This will give me the chance to do both of those things.”
“It’s worth trying,” said Jack. “Especially if it’ll make you feel better, even just to talk to them. The people at the news station might have a better idea of what we can say, too.”
Jemma nodded and looked back up at him. “Do we tell Payton?”
Jack winced. “I get the feeling we should. We’re not actually trying to get caught this time. Maybe we can get police protection out of it, even if he thinks it’s a bad idea. We can say it’s an interview. I don’t think we have to tell him our exact goals, but yeah, I think we should tell him where we’re going and that we’ll be giving an interview about our experiences if they agree.”
***
Payton’s warnings were still ringing in Jemma’s ears as they pulled up to the news station, a police car behind them, its lights on but sirens off.
“We’re doing the right thing, right?” she asked.
“I think so. I think even Darren isn’t convinced what we’re doing is wrong, or he’d have tried harder to stop us, not given us an escort before we’d even asked.”
Jemma nodded. They got out of the car and went inside, two uniformed officers following behind. The inside of the building looked much as she remembered, the wording on the sign just inside the door barely changed, still directing them to the room down the hall if they didn’t want to use the website. She tried to swallow down her nerves, pushing back the memories of the last time she’d been here, focusing instead on the people who’d tried to help, who might be willing to help again.
When they reached the room, she was grasping Jack’s hand tightly, but her grip loosened some at the sight of the man behind the desk.
“Ralph.” She smiled weakly at him, and he blinked before grinning back at her.
“Jemma! You’re okay!” He stood and walked around the desk, nodding at Jack before his eyes flickered warily to the police who stood behind them. “You are okay, right?”
She rubbed her arm. “I need your help again. Is Ashley in?”
“I’m not all that sure we helped you the first time,” said Ralph, gesturing for them to follow him into the hallway. He paused long enough to close the door and set up a sign that indicated he’d return soon. “Not even the first line of the broadcast went out, and you got kidnapped right out of our studio.”
“Was everyone okay?” She felt Jack’s thumb rubbing her hand, and she took a calming breath.
“Yeah, everyone was fine. A little shook up when we realized you were missing, but nobody got hurt or anything like that. I know Ashley was trying to track you down, and she’d been trying to decide what to do. But then the Return happened, and Senator Pratt held his conference, and we were all hoping you were fine.” He glanced back at her, then continued. “She was hoping you’d come back in and talk to us. That’s why she told me all this, to let me know to bring you to her if you came in. She’s nice enough, but we don’t usually chit-chat. Our offices are a bit far apart, and she’s my boss and all.” He sighed. “Sorry. I’ve been talking a lot since we got our voices back. Can’t seem to help it. It’s funny, working here, we get to see all types. Some people are even quieter than they were before, you know? Like they got used to not using their voices, and they don’t need them much anymore. Then there are others, like me, who are making up for lost time.”
He came to a stop and rapped three times on an office door, ignoring the looks of his coworkers; they’d reached a more populated area of the building, and the police escort was attracting attention. At least, Jemma assumed it was the police escort drawing their attention. It was also possible that they remembered her from her last visit.
“Come in.” Behind her desk, Ashley looked just as polished as Jemma remembered, with every hair in place, business suit professional, yet flattering. Her eyes lit up as she saw who was coming in, and Ralph excused himself, shutting the door, the police remaining outside. “Jemma. And this must be Jack.” She reached out her hand, and they each shook it, Jack letting go of Jemma’s to do so. When they all sat, Jemma locked her hands together, trying to keep from fidgeting. “What can I do for you?”
***
Ashley listened as Jemma filled in the gaps in her story, the few she’d left out the first time, as well as what had happened in the short time since, leaving hazy some of the details as to how, exactly, she’d overheard where the cure was stored or how she’d been able to get to it. Ashley asked a few clarifying questions, and she scribbled notes, but she remained otherwise silent until Jemma had finished.
Ashley took a minute to speak. “Did you know that there hasn’t been a single interview with a survivor?” Jemma blinked at what seemed to almost be a change in the subject. “It’s nearing a week since the senator’s speech, since we found out, officially, about the existence of people like you, and there’s not one official interview. Not in print, not on radio, not on television or web. I don’t know whether they’re advising you as a group against it or whether people are understandably afraid of the spotlight. And now you, specifically, Jemma—you who apparently gave us our voices back, you who I’ve been feeling guilty about failing since you got taken out of our studio—you’re asking me if I wouldn’t mind putting you on the air?” She raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. “Even if only your identities checked out and every word out of your mouths were lies, it would be worth clearing the schedule to put the two of you on.”
Jemma swallowed. “We have police protection this time. They can verify who we are and that we were involved.”
The woman nodded, turning her attention to her computer. “We had a fluff piece scheduled for this evening. It’ll be short notice again. Are you up for it?”
Jemma looked at Jack. “We are, right?” she sent.
He nodded. “We’ve got this,” he returned silently.
“We’ll do it,” Jemma said aloud.
“Good,” answered Ashley. “Let’s get you ready.”
***
The preparation moved more quickly with voices than it had without, with everyone’s hands free and no tablet technology to explain. Ashley stopped to talk to them before they were ready to start.
“Dallas will ask questions to walk you through your story. It’s live, so make sure you avoid any curse words. He’ll split the questions between you two and try to keep the speaking time pretty equal, but Jemma, you’ll probably have a little more, just because of the nature of some of the later events.” She looked between them. “Any questions before I turn you over to Dallas?”
“One,” Jemma said, rubbing her arm, “but not about us. Your friend, the one you mentioned last time I was here. Did he come back?”
Ashley nodded, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. “He did. He’s okay, but he’s different. You mentioned volunteers, when you told me what happened. Maybe keep in mind that some of them didn’t exactly have a choice in whether or not they volunteered. They threatened his family, then told him he could stay and help or he could go and take his family on the run until they caught up. Even though it wasn’t much of a choice, he’s having a hard time knowing he was working with these people without them having to use the same force they did on you.” She walked away with another nod.
Jemma’s stomach clenched. What would she have done in that situation, if she’d been just a normal person, one whose family they’d threatened? Would she have helped, looked away while others were being hurt, just because they weren’t her family?
She wasn’t sure, and she saw uncertainty on Jack’s face, too.
They were waved over to the chairs for the final adjustments to lighting, and Dallas joined them, shaking their hands before he, too, sat. There was a small table in the center of the setup, Jack and Jemma on one side, Dallas on the other, all three chairs angled toward the camera. Jemma could feel her arm throbbing, and she knew she should take another of her pain pills, but she didn’t want to go on the air with her mind impaired.
When the signals started indicating the
show was about to go live, Jemma felt some of her nervousness kick in at the idea of doing the televised interview. Last time, she’d been desperate, alone. This time, she felt more aware of the cameras, the noise, the rush of people, the push of energy.
Jack covered her hand with his, sending a wave of reassurance, and she felt her shoulders relax. She didn’t want to risk Talking to him when they were about to be on camera, but she sent back a surge of thanks along with her smile. Jemma looked at Ashley, who gave her an encouraging smile from near one of the cameras, and she looked over at the police, who were watching calmly from just off-set, standing between them and the nearest exit.
They were safe, for the moment. The senator wasn’t. If they did this, they might be able to help him. If they didn’t, well, she didn’t really need to think about what might happen to them, not in detail, not right before she had to tell the story. It would make it too hard to get through.
The buzz of the studio got louder, then a hush fell, the countdown started, and a light came on, letting Jemma know they were on the air.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE:
Gone Again
“Dallas Frederick here, and tonight, we bring you an exclusive interview.” The man was charismatic, assured, confident, his smile wide without detracting from his serious tone. Jemma knew she was letting some of her dislike for him show through her connection with Jack, their hands still linked, but he put her a little on edge. Jack sent a wave of understanding, and Jemma focused back on the man’s words. “You’ve heard about Tricorp BioD, about the people they held for study in their labs. Now, we bring you the world’s first interview with two of those who were studied. Stay tuned throughout the interview to discover what nobody outside of government and law enforcement seems to know: who, exactly, activated the cure to return our voices?” He turned from the camera to Jemma, his expression shifting to one clearly meant to demonstrate sympathy. “Jemma, tell me, when did you first discover that Tricorp BioD was interested in you?”