He swiveled in his chair to face her and shook his head. “Not yet. What time does your dad normally go to bed?”
She scrunched her nose. “That’s kind of a weird question to ask his daughter, don’t you think?”
He sighed. “I know. It’s just that he seems to be pacing around his office. I was hoping that after he took the syringe from the laboratory that he’d place it somewhere, but the coordinates haven’t stopped changing.” He threw his head back in frustration.
She rose from the recliner and walked over to the desk. She placed her hands on the armrests of his chair and leaned into him, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead. “I’m sorry for how I acted earlier.”
Warmth rushed to his face like lava erupting from a volcano. “Oh, it’s okay. I understand.”
She looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “You understand what?”
“I don’t know. I mean,” he stammered, “I understand how difficult this must be for you. With your dad and everything.”
She bit her lip as she cast her eyes down toward the floor.
Great. Let’s bring up the one thing she clearly doesn’t want to talk about. He was about to fix his faux paus when, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the holomonitor wasn’t flashing anymore. He shook Emery’s arm as he swiveled toward the screen.
“What is it?”
“It stopped moving. The coordinates aren’t moving.”
She moved closer to the screen. “Where is it?”
He researched the coordinates, his forehead creasing as he registered the location. This can’t be right. He crosschecked with a second source before looking at her. “The syringe is in his office,” he stated, “or more precisely, his bedchambers.”
She let out a low, cynical laugh. “Of course.”
“What?”
“He keeps anything important on him at all times,” she clarified.
“You mean the syringe is . . . in his pajamas?”
“Most likely. Or it could be in the drawer on his nightstand. Do you know what this means?”
He shook his head.
“We’ll have to break in and get it at night.” She took a steadying breath. “While he’s sleeping.”
43
“Engage impossible task number two,” Torin chided. “How in the world are we going to get into your dad’s bedchambers? And take the syringe without him knowing?”
“All I can say is that I’m done sneaking around,” Naia said as she kicked her feet up onto the coffee table. Riley and Alexis stirred, but didn’t wake. “Geez, they can really sleep through anything.”
Emery looked at her as if she’d just struck gold. “Naia, you’re brilliant!”
Torin looked back and forth between them. “Wait, what did I miss?”
“Apparently, I’m a genius,” Naia said with a tip of an imaginary hat.
“You really are.” Emery began to pace as each piece of her idea came together. “And when you find out what it is, you’re going to wonder why you didn’t think of it first.”
+ +
That night, Emery met her father at a Brazilian steakhouse for dinner. The crowd was dismal for a Friday night, even by weeknight standards. They’d just ordered their meals and were now sitting in a slightly uncomfortable silence. She fiddled with her napkin, her gaze shifting to the breast pocket of her father’s coat. Is the syringe with him now?
Her eyes traveled downward to her lap where a blue dot blinked on her phone. Torin had mapped the device so that she could see her location in comparison to the syringe, which would appear as a green dot. And sure enough, there was a green dot blinking in the same space the blue one was.
It’s on him at this very moment.
Her thoughts scattered as their meals materialized in front of them, the scent of parmesan and garlic floating through the air. Byron had ordered the Cordeiro lamb, while she had opted for the Lombo pork loin.
Byron poured himself another glass of water, topping hers off in the process. After their last encounter, she wasn’t sure how to even begin a conversation with him. It was clear they didn’t exactly see eye to eye on Operation Revive, but she knew she had to be cordial, otherwise her entire plan would end up in shambles.
Hidden in her right sleeve was a pill—a horse tranquilizer. She hadn’t bothered to ask Naia where she’d gotten it, or maybe she just didn’t care to know. Best to refrain from being guilty by association. Naia had explained that when immersed in water, the pill would disperse, although the translucent color would make this difficult to see. Once consumed, it would require twenty minutes to take effect, meaning it’d be lights out for her father without him even knowing it. They’d teleport back to 7S Headquarters where she’d put him to bed, then search his coat for the original syringe.
Easy enough, right?
A bead of sweat trickled from her forehead all the way down the side of her face. It sat on the edge of her chin, threatening to fall. In order for this to work, the timing had to be just right, so as to not raise any suspicion from him nor any bystanders. If she did it too early, she risked having her father pass out, in public, in the middle of the restaurant. If she did it too late, her father would likely excuse himself to his bedchambers and dismiss her for the evening, locking her out of the building. As with all things lately, timing was key.
Her thoughts scattered as her father cleared his throat. “So, I’m guessing you’ve watched the news?”
What an odd way to start our conversation. “Um, yeah,” she replied as she grabbed her water glass. “It’s terrible. Devastating, actually. It’s shocking that we’ve had two natural disasters occur within the same week, wouldn’t you agree?”
He sighed as he set down his glass. “Em, I wasn’t trying to start conflict. I’m just at a loss for words after our last conversation.” His eyes drooped like those of a basset hound.
“You and me both,” she muttered under her breath.
“Things don’t have to be this way,” he pleaded, as if sensing the conversation was about to take a wrong turn. “We may have different views, but we’re still family.”
Her hand tensed into a fist. “You’re right. We are family. Which is why I can’t understand how you think distribution of a magical cure-all is the answer to our problems.”
So much for being cordial.
“Young lady, I do not appreciate your tone.” He shook his head. “Clearly, this was a mistake. If we can’t be pleasant, then there’s no point in having dinner.”
As he turned his head to look for the waiter, most likely to ask for carry-out containers, she realized that this was it. Her chance.
Take it.
She slid her left hand into her opposite sleeve and pulled out the pill. With her father’s head still turned away from her, she dropped the pill into the glass, watching as it fizzled for a split second, then disappeared almost immediately. Her hand retreated as soon as her father turned to face her again.
“The service here is really going downhill,” he complained as he began to gather his things.
Her eyes flitted to his glass of water. “Look, I’m sorry,” she said in her most apologetic tone. “Let’s just not talk about work, or current events, or . . .” It was then she realized that she actually didn’t have that much in common with him. The destruction of Dormance had brought them together, and now it appeared the destruction of sanaré would be the thing to tear them apart. The realization made her stomach turn.
“It’s okay, Em,” he said, his tone falling flat. “I have things I need to do back at the office.” He pulled the glass toward him and downed the entire thing in one gulp.
Emery tried to act casual as their waiter approached.
“Is there anything else I can get for you this evening?” the young male asked.
“That’ll be all,” Emery said hurriedly. “Thanks.” As he walked away from the table, her eyes landed on her father. His eyes had already begun to droop as he e
mptied his plate into one of the to-go containers.
Hang in there. Just twenty more minutes.
44
Torin gave himself a pat on the back. “I’m so happy I convinced Emery to wear those contact lenses.”
Naia stopped mid-swirl, a lump of chocolate pudding sitting on her spoon. “I really hope you gave her new ones, not the same ones I was wearing.”
He made a face. “Of course not. That would be gross. Not to mention, unsanitary.”
She stuck the spoon in her mouth before responding. “Good answer.”
He scooted closer to the holoscreens, watching as Emery and her father made their way out of the restaurant. It’s go time.
“How far is he into the pill?”
Torin checked his stopwatch. “It’s been about ten minutes since he drank the whole glass. Why do you ask?”
“I don’t know,” she said as she flipped onto her back. She reached for the holopad, swiping it off the coffee table and turning it on in one fell swoop. “It just seems like we’ve been waiting for a while. Can you program this holopad so that I can watch?”
He rolled his eyes. “Or you could just come over here like a normal person and watch it on the screens I’ve already programmed.” He gestured to the four holomonitors in front of him.
“Yeah . . . I’m going to stay over here. It’s more comfortable.”
He shot her a sidelong glance before turning back toward the screens. Emery was guiding her stumbling father to the nearest T-Port. She looked like she was struggling, and he couldn’t help but feel a little bad they’d sent her on this mission without any back-up. He watched as the stepped onto the platform when, suddenly, the screen turned black as white and blue sparks filled the view. He’d never seen it in action before, but he quickly realized that this is what teleporting must look like. “Neat,” he breathed.
It only lasted for a few seconds until the screen changed to a familiar landscape—7S Headquarters. He watched as they entered the building, noticing Byron’s movements getting more sluggish by the minute.
Emery pulled the earpiece from her pocket and stuck it in her ear. Byron’s eyes were fluttering, opening and closing with each step. He’s not going to make it up to the room, Torin thought. He could hear her struggling to get her father’s body onto yet another T-Port, one that would transport them up to the seventh floor inside the building.
“Should we go in?” Naia asked, panic written all over her face. “It looks like she could use some help.”
“Guys,” Emery’s voice echoed over the speaker system. “He’s about to pass out. I’m not sure we’re going to make it.”
“You have to,” Torin urged. “We can’t just leave your dad, the Commander, passed out on the first floor lobby.” He balled his hands into fists, squeezing so hard that his knuckles turned white.
Emery grunted loudly as she lugged her father up onto the T-Port with her. By the way she was panting, Torin almost felt like he were there himself. He should have been there to help her. “Don’t push yourself too hard,” he warned.
It took a few minutes, but she and her slouching father finally stood atop the T-Port. “Seventh floor,” she commanded through gritted teeth as she supported most of her father’s weight.
Another screen of black with white and blue sparks appeared until a new image came into focus. A tall, lanky figure. Torin turned to face Naia, whose hand was pressed against her mouth. That can’t be good.
“Well, what do we have here?” said a meek male voice.
Torin couldn’t see Emery’s face, but if it looked anything like Naia’s, it was one of complete and utter panic. “I can’t see who it is,” he whispered.
The figure slowly came into focus, and he immediately recognized the man as Dr. Matheson.
Well, shit.
+ +
Emery stood before the doctor with her bowlegged father slumped on her right shoulder, drooling, his eyes rolling into the back of his head.
Great. Just great.
The doctor approached her and helped Byron stand upright, but the movement was fleeting. “My, my, what do we have here?”
Think. She hesitated, then said, “We were at dinner and I think he may have had one too many to drink.”
The doctor raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t take the Commander for a drinker.”
“Oh, yes,” she declared with an exaggerated nod of her head. “He really likes bourbon. And whiskey.”
“What are you doing?” Torin whispered harshly into her earpiece.
She ignored him and kept her eyes trained on the doctor. She didn’t dare flinch. Flinching meant she was up to something, and even though she was, he couldn’t know that.
Dr. Matheson looked back and forth between her and her father. “How nice of you to see that the Commander returns back to his chambers safely.” The look he gave her was enough to send shivers down her spine. “I can take it from here, dear. You look like you’re about to crumble beneath the weight anyway.”
Emery wondered if Torin and Naia were freaking out as much as she was. This is a huge deviation from our plan.
When she didn’t let go of her father, the doctor eyed her curiously. “Is there something else, Ms. Parker?”
Fortunately, with the position her father was in, she was able to slide her hand into his side coat pocket. She repressed a smile as her fingers grazed a slender object within the fabric. The syringe. If she took it now, then Dr. Matheson would see it, and he’d more than likely piece together that her father’s current behavior wasn’t due to intoxication.
“Poor old chap,” Dr. Matheson purred as he threw Byron’s arm around his shoulders.
Emery’s face fell as she watched her hand slide out of the coat and away from the syringe. So close. She bowed her head as the doctor turned to head toward Byron’s office. She slowly moved her hand to her back pocket, grasping the handle of the dagger. Although she didn’t know what exactly, something came over her.
Without thinking, she marched over to the doctor and her father. She unsheathed the electrified dagger from its hiding place and pointed it straight at Matheson’s forehead.
“What the hell are you doing?” Torin hissed.
She unclasped the earpiece and threw it onto the floor. It crunched underneath the weight of her boot.
Dr. Matheson’s hands shot up in surrender as he looked the blue pulsing dagger in the eye. Byron’s body slumped against the wall until he fell to his knees, his head resting against the office door.
“That’ll be all, Dr. Matheson,” she spat as she brought the dagger in closer to his forehead. “I’ll take it from here.”
To her surprise, the doctor cackled. “What a pretty little toy that is.” A few soft tisks escaped his mouth. “It’s a shame that you won’t get to use it.”
Before she could register what was happening, she fell to her knees next to her father. Shock waves traveled throughout her entire body. Every inch of her being pulsated in pain. The corners of her eyes began to water as she let out a desperate cry. Just when she thought she couldn’t take anymore, her body stopped twitching. The pain subsided.
And then everything went dark.
45
Byron awoke to the sound of metal screeching. He shot upright and raised his hands to cover his ears, only to find that they’d been bound in holocuffs. With wide eyes and a thumping heart, he took in his surroundings. The walls were stark white, as were the ones in every other room in the 7S building, yet there was a very slight, almost indiscernible, difference. The walls surrounding him were shiny and coated in a clear jelly-like substance, making them transparent to the outside world. He curled up in a ball as he realized where he was: in a holding cell beneath the laboratory.
From across the room, he could see Emery in another cell, pacing back and forth, talking to herself. Next to her was Alexis, who appeared to be either sleeping or unconscious, and in the cell adjacent to his own was Riley, who was
doing the exact same thing Emery was.
“What happened?” he called out, his voice nothing more than a hoarse croak. He expected Emery to turn and make eye contact, but she continued to pace, like a tightly wound toy.
He called out one more time.
No response.
The reason why became abundantly clear. The walls were insulated, soundproof. Fear struck every fiber of his being as a harsh realization came to light. There was only one other person who had access to these cells besides him.
Dr. Matheson.
Byron pushed himself upright, using caution to not touch the walls. He was fully aware of the damage they could do, seeing as he was the one who’d invented them. Hopefully the others were aware, too, albeit he didn’t know how they could be—and, in the current state, it’s not like he could warn them. Coming into contact for even one second could shut down a person’s entire nervous system and leave them immobile for hours. It was a tactic he’d used when capturing FCW refugees. It’d been an effective means of capture; however, he’d quarantined this area almost two years ago, after Dormance had been destroyed, since a use for it no longer existed. Apparently, Dr. Matheson had found a different use, although Byron couldn’t possibly fathom why he, his daughters, and Riley were locked up.
It was then that memories from the night prior came flooding back to him. Dinner with his daughter, how he’d been about to tell her that she’d been right. Looking for the waiter. Drinking his water. And then . . .
She drugged me. My own daughter drugged me.
But Emery was in the same situation as he was. She was locked up in the cell right in front of him.
Again, his thoughts reverted back to the previous evening. He’d brought the syringe to dinner, as a peace offering, and had planned to tell Emery that she’d been right all along; but the conversation had taken a turn for the worse. Before he’d even had the chance to tell her, he’d been knocked out. Whatever she’d given him must have been strong because he couldn’t recall anything else that had happened.
Restitution (The Alpha Drive Book 3) Page 17