by Jamie Canosa
“Here is what I understand, Mr. President, what I’ve learned though all of this. Life is about making decisions and taking risks. Sometimes they pay off, and sometimes they blow up in your face, but that’s life. Not just coasting along from one moment to the next, waiting for someone to tell you what to do, never having to think, or feel, or decide anything for yourself. If you want your power back, then you have to be willing to let ours go. Give us back the power to make our own decisions and live our lives the way we choose. That’s it, Mr. President, take it or leave it.” Holy crow, where’d that come from? Even Peter looks astonished. Who cares? Go me!
Except, the pause that follows is almost deafening in its silence. I’ve just about come to the conclusion that we’re all screwed when he says . . . “We’ll take it.”
Chapter 33
War. We’re going to war. Like actual get your swords and shields and meet out on the battlefield war. Okay, maybe we’ll be leaving the swords and shields at home, and the battlefield is more like a corporate building, but that’s beside the point.
“Hey.” I swear Connor’s like a damn bloodhound when it comes to tracking me down. I was in the vacant dining hall. It’s between meals and, I thought, a good place to hide. Apparently, I thought wrong.
“Hey.”
“What are you doing in here?”
Avoiding people . . . unsuccessfully. “Thinking.”
“Mmhmm.” One thing I can appreciate about Connor is that he knows how to leave me alone, even if he insists on sitting right beside me while he does it.
“How did we get here?” If he’s going to sit there, he may as well help me figure this out.
“By train.” Ha—ha. Brilliant
“All I wanted to do was get Peter out of that damn camp.”
“I know, Girlie. And all I wanted to do was make sure you didn’t get yourself killed doing it.”
“I’m sorry, Connor. I feel like I dragged you into all of this.”
“Like you could drag me anywhere.” He smiles at me, and it’s one of his genuine, blindingly beautiful smiles. “We’ve been over this, Girlie. You didn’t drag anyone into this, you didn’t cause all of this to happen, and none of this is your fault. I don’t know why you keep insisting on taking the blame. It drives me crazy to see you torturing yourself, so just knock it off already, would ya?”
I tap out a rhythm with my nails on the table top while Connor shifts uncomfortably beside me. He’s wrestling with whatever it is he wants to say again, and I can tell it’s getting the better of him this time. I know the moment he finally gives in because it’s accompanied by a defeated sigh as he turns to face me.
“I’m sorry about the other night. I shouldn’t have done what I did. I just . . . You looked so sad, and I just wanted to make it better.” A sly grin creeps over his face. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time. I just couldn’t help myself . . . But it was stupid and selfish of me. I know you’re under a lot of pressure right now, we all are, and me just adding more? Well, I didn’t make anything better, did I?”
“Connor . . .”
“Don’t say anything, Girlie. This is my apology, so you just sit there and listen. Remember when I said you’d have to forgive my mental breakdown when it came? Well, I’m cashing in on that now. I’m sorry for my crappy timing, but I’m not sorry I kissed you. I know it’s still not the right time, I just want you to know that there’s no pressure here. I did what I had to do to show you how I feel, and now we can just forget about it . . . for now. But, fair warning, when all of this is over and done with, I have every intention of doing it again, and often.” His grin has always been infectious, and this time is no different. Just like that, the awkward tension is gone, and we settle into a comfortable silence, side by side.
The thought of Connor’s lips on mine again causes some confusing stomach hiccups. Not quite butterflies, but definitely something. I’ve never actually been kissed by a boy before, and doing it again isn’t exactly unappealing.
“Is there a meeting today?” I ask just to distract myself.
In one glance, Connor manages to clearly convey ‘just because you wish there wasn’t, doesn’t mean there isn’t.’ Of course there’s a meeting. There’s been a meeting every day for the past four days.
“I don’t know why we need to be there. All they do is argue with each other about which of their bazillion plans is the best. They never even ask our opinion.” Not that I’d really have one, considering most of what they say is completely lost on me.
“I guess they feel like they need to include us.”
“They really don’t.” Connor’s amused by my disgruntled tone, but seriously.
I’ve basically spent the past four days of my life staring at a map of the layout of Permatech hanging on the wall. It’s just about the only thing in the room that seems worth knowing.
“At least they agreed to take in everyone who won’t be of any use in the fight. That’s progress,” Connor offers with a shrug.
True, we did manage to convince them to do that much. It took forever to hash out the specifics, but, in the end, they agreed to accommodate anyone over the age of fifty, under the age of sixteen, or too physically injured to fight. The train left three days ago to collect those that qualified and got back late last night. We were all there to oversee the transport of everyone into the compound before finally crawling into bed sometime around four this morning. Thus, my comatose state today.
“The meeting’s at three. That’s what I came to tell you.”
I kind of wish he hadn’t. If I didn’t know about it, then I wouldn’t have to be there listening to them idly talk about the different ways we can risk our lives in the not too distant future.
“I’m scared.” I don’t mean to admit it. I didn’t even realize how true the words are until they slip out. I’m terrified.
“I know you are.” Connor slides closer to me and drops a heavy arm across my shoulders. “I am too. We’d be crazy not to be. This is some scary stuff we’re talking about doing.”
“I just . . . People think . . .” I sigh, not really knowing what it is I’m trying to say. “I feel like I’m up on this pedestal, or something, and I don’t want to disappoint everyone.”
“Being afraid doesn’t make you a disappointment. It makes you human. You don’t think everyone here is ready to pee their pants?” I can always count on Connor for a laugh.
“It makes me feel . . .” I sober as it dawns on me what it is I actually feel, “like a coward.”
That uncharacteristic, serious look creeps back onto Connor’s face, tightening his eyes as he shakes his head at me. “You’re a lot of things, Girlie. Strong, yes. Funny, yes. Stubborn, definitely. Beautiful, hell yeah. But a coward? No. No way. You just need a little more confidence in yourself. If you could see what I see when I look at you, you wouldn’t have any doubt that you can do this. You can do anything.”
I glance at the clock on the wall over his shoulder to avoid the intense look in his eyes even as his words send a warmth coursing through my veins. It’s almost three o’clock. “Guess we’d better get moving. Wouldn’t want to keep the President waiting.”
Everyone’s already there when we arrive. I notice Peter watching me as I drop into a chair beside Connor, but I ignore him and search for a good view of my favorite map. They’ve both agreed to let this . . . situation go for now, but that doesn’t make it any less uncomfortable.
“As of an hour ago, a plan has been set in motion,” Syms informs us, snapping my attention back to the group.
A plan’s been set in motion? Wait, what plan? Isn’t that something we should have discussed, I don’t know, maybe before it was ‘set in motion’?
“We’ve requested a meeting between Robert Perman and myself, and he’s agreed to meet at his offices at two p.m. the day after tomorrow.”
“The day after tomorrow?” That’s way too soon to have everyone ready.
“It’s the only time he claimed
to be available, so we’re going to have to make it work.” Easy for him to say. “It’s the only way to be sure he’s in the building when you bring it down.”
“Bring it down?” Yes, I do realize I’m just repeating everything the man’s saying in the form of a question, like some kind of neurotic parrot, but what kind of plan is this?
“This,” one of Syms’ lackeys pulls a small metal object, no larger than a tennis ball, from a bag, “is a powerful explosive device. If placed correctly, it should be able to bring down the entire structure, with Perman inside.”
I’m finding it hard to believe that such a tiny thing could do so much damage.
“This is the detonator.” Next, he pulls out another chunk of metal, rectangular in shape this time, with what looks like a switch and button on it. It almost looks like a child’s toy in its simplicity, a very dangerous child’s toy. “You place the explosive, activate the detonator here, press the button, and . . . ka-boom.”
Well, that all seems too easy. So, what’s the catch?
“The explosive needs to be placed here.” He grabs the map of Permatech—my map—and spreads it across the table in front of us. I knew that would come in handy. “This is the center support beam.”
He indicates a column at the exact middle of the map. Guess that makes sense. Of course, it couldn’t be further away from any of the doors. Thus, the catch.
“How do you suggest we get the explosive in there?” I can’t see any easy access, and I’m guessing the place is likely to be crawling with soldiers.
“Our recommendation is that you approach this as a covert mission. Use an ambush outside as a distraction, and then focus your efforts on getting one or two people inside with the explosive. With any luck, the attack will draw all of Perman’s troops outside to defend the building, and it will be clear sailing once you’re in.”
“If we can get inside the building, can’t we just shoot him or something? Do we really need to bring the entire building down?” Connor makes a good point.
“Even if every other soldier in the place is outside fighting, Perman will still have his personal security team around him. Hopefully, they’ll stick close to his office on the fourth floor because of the threat outside, but if you’d rather risk trying to get through them to get to him instead of dropping an explosive in a vacant floor, then be our guest.”
‘With any luck’, ‘hopefully’. Those are not words I really want to hear concerning our battle plan, but what the hell, we’ve gone on less before. I glance around the table at the others. They all look about as convinced as I am, but one after another, they each give a silent nod.
“All right, fine. We’re in.” Syms looks pleased with my agreement, as if we’re doing any of this for him.
They give us some more detailed instructions on how and where to use the explosive, and then hand over a small backpack with the bomb and detonator inside. I snag it before anyone else gets the chance, already knowing that it isn’t going to go over well, but tough. This is mine.
Chapter 34
There’s no time to spare, so we board the train and head back to L as soon as the meeting wraps up. By the time we get there, we’re all on edge. We’ve only got about sixteen hours to get everyone armed and ready to go.
We all work late into the night, making sure each person has a weapon and knows what to expect. The sound of gunfire coming from the shooting range rings across the camp for most of the night. People are nervous. I don’t blame them, I’m nervous too. I’d be right out there with them if I didn’t already know that there’s no hope for my atrocious aim. I take a hand gun anyway, just in case, and tuck it into my belt.
“Have you ever fired one of those before?” Peter teases.
“How hard can it be?” The first time we said those words seems like lifetimes ago.
“I don’t know, but you make it look nearly impossible.”
“You’re hilarious. Who needs a gun when you can just knock ‘em dead with your wit?”
“I am pretty witty. So, are you ready?”
“No, are you?”
“Not in the slightest.”
“Oh good, we’re all set then.”
The sound of his laughter is oddly comforting, and I can’t help smiling. Why do we always find the most terrifying, absurd situations humorous? Clearly, we could both use some sleep.
“Hey, Leigh?” Peter whispers as I curl up in a ball near the wall in the already crowded dorm. “It’s almost over.”
I nod at him, and watch as he lies down to sleep. ‘It’s almost over’. I repeat his words to myself until I finally manage to do the impossible and fall asleep.
***
“Up and at ‘em.”
It’s Connor’s voice dragging me kicking and screaming back to the land of the conscious.
“What time is it?” I ask groggily.
“Nearly six. We’ve got three hours, so go and eat, and then give me a hand, would ya?”
“What time did you go to bed?” Dark circles shadow his eyes.
“A few hours ago. I was helping some people out at the firing range.”
“Oh, sorry, I should have been helping you.”
“At the firing range? No thanks,” he laughs. “There’s something else you can help me with, though.”
Oh yeah, laugh at me and then ask for my help. What a dazzling display of common sense. “What?”
“We need to start getting everyone on board. With this many people, it could take a while.”
“Sure. I wanted to try and get everyone situated in their groups before we left, anyway, so we wouldn’t have to worry about it once we get there.”
“But, hey,” he calls after me as I turn to go, “eat something first, Girlie.”
Connor chuckles at my eye roll as I leave the mother hen behind and head for the station platform. The train has a few passenger cars as well as a half dozen cargo cars. For this trip, we’re going to need them all.
On the way back to L, it was decided that the workers should be divided up evenly between the nine of us. There isn’t enough time to get each individual person up to date with our plan—not that we really have much of a plan. But at least this way everyone will have some sort of direction once we get there.
Peter shows up with the first group of workers meandering over from the eating area, and shoves a bowl in my hands. “Connor seems to think you won’t eat unless I make you.”
For crying out loud, I have bigger concerns than an empty stomach at the moment, like a bullet hole. I take a few bites just to placate him and then discard the bowl as more workers start arriving at the platform. Peter helps me get them all sorted out and situated. A few hours later, we’re just about ready to go when Connor turns back up. I really hope he took a nap, but somehow, I doubt it.
“How ya doin', Girlie?”
“Fantastic. Can’t wait to start getting shot at.”
“Oh yeah? Me neither.”
“Guess we’d better get this show on the road, then.” Peter joins us looking more than a little harried, and I fail to suppress a laugh. “The engineer says we should get moving in a few minutes.”
As expected, the train is filled to capacity. Luckily, Permatech isn’t all that far, but it’s going to be a very cramped six hours. The three of us seek out a few open seats in one of the passenger cars and make ourselves comfortable. I don’t think anyone really knows what to say, so despite the sheer number of people in the car, the trip is one of the quietest I’ve been on so far. For over an hour, no one says a word as we all stare absentmindedly out the windows. I’m still having trouble believing this is actually happening, but the gun in my waistband is a constant reminder that it’s for real. After a while, I start driving myself crazy—which is prone to happen when I’m left to my own devices for too long—so I’m thankful when Connor finally breaks the dreaded silence.
“This time tomorrow, we’ll all be free to do as we please.”
He doesn’t say it to anyone in pa
rticular, and no one responds, so it hardly turns out to be the conversation starter I was hoping for, but at least it’s given me something better to think about. Freedom. It’s hard to even imagine what it would be like to have a choice. What would I choose? I’ve never even considered it before. Where would I want to work? Where would I want to live? Who would I want to live with? Now I’ve come full circle, right back to another crazy-inducing topic. How am I ever supposed to make that choice?
The hours seem to crawl by, but at the same time, we arrive in what feels like no time at all. Hefting the pack, I let Connor pull me to my feet. He looks like he’s biting his tongue so hard that it may actually be painful.
“Oh just spit it out, Connor.”
“I don’t want you to go,” he blurts almost before the words have left my mouth.
“Duly noted. Can we move now?”
“Yes.” Well, that was easier than expected.
“Good. I’ll take my team around the side and—”
“I think our teams should stick together.” I should have known better than to think I’d get out of this without a Peter lecture. “No offense, Leigh, but you’re impossibly bad with that weapon.”
Oh no, no offense at all.
“At least let me go with you,” he pleads.
“Listen, Peter, we’re here now, and things are going to go according to plan, and the plan does not involve you babysitting me.”
He gives in pretty easily, but the look on his face warns me that I probably haven’t heard the end of this.
One thing’s for sure, a group our size traipsing through a forest is no quiet endeavor. We may as well have pulled right up to the front door for all the noise we’re making. When we reach the perimeter of Permatech, it takes all of about sixty seconds before the troops are on us. I harbor no illusions about my abilities with a weapon, but sometimes the necessity of the situation can make a person much better at something. And it doesn’t hurt that a person is a much bigger target than a tin can.
I actually hit a couple of soldiers racing toward me, and part of me wants to jump up and down while another part wants to puke. I don’t have time for either, though, because the troops are still coming. I’ve lost sight of Connor, Peter, Lori, and just about everyone else in the melee. If everything is going according to plan, they should be spreading out with their groups and circling the building. My group is supposed to be covering the northeast side. I honestly haven’t the slightest idea who’s in my group, just that they’re supposed to be following me. So, hoping they’re all paying attention, I start making my way in that direction.