Word and Breath (Wordless Chronicles)

by Susannah Noel

  Connor didn’t break the gaze either. “And what is that?” His voice sounded faintly suspicious, as if he could already guess what Mikel would say.

  Mikel said it anyway. “I have certain abilities we might as well use. Smyde would be too dangerous a target at the moment, but Largan’s assistant wouldn’t be. He knows something. I can find out what it is.”

  The room was absolutely silent as Riana and Connor processed what he’d said.

  “By force?” Connor asked at last. His eyes were colder and harder than Mikel had expected.

  “It probably won’t come to that. As I said, he wanted to tell me and was only holding back out of a sense of responsibility. That’s pretty easy to overcome. I can think of any number of ways to get him to tell me willingly.”

  “And if he wouldn’t?”

  “Then I’d extract the information in a more direct way.”

  There was a silent duel going on here. Both men knew it. While Mikel didn’t want to shock or upset Riana, he was also not going to back down in this.

  “Doing permanent damage to the young man?”

  Mikel gave a half-shrug. “If necessary.”

  It sounded heartless. Maybe it was. But he’d never lied about who he was. He didn’t like to hurt people indiscriminately or for fun, but sometimes necessity led one to make certain decisions. Mikel had learned to live with the consequences.

  “The priority here is getting Riana’s sister back safely.” Mikel hadn’t turned to look at Riana, but her grip on his arm was tighter than ever and he’d felt her tense up beside him. “To me, the risk is worth it.”

  “We don’t do that kind of damage to other people,” Connor replied, his voice and expression unyielding. “We don’t forcefully interrogate them. We don’t hurt them physically or mentally. We certainly don’t risk killing them.”

  “And if it’s the only way to find her sister?”

  Connor wasn’t an idiot. He must know it might come to that—trading one human life for another.

  “We don’t do that,” Connor repeated. “The Front is based on certain ideals, and we don’t break or bend those ideals, even to achieve ends we believe are just. If we did, we’d be fighting for nothing.”

  He believed it. That much was obvious. Connor believed what he was saying with a force of conviction that Mikel had never felt for anything. It felt like a slap in the face. Every instinct inside Mikel resisted the purity, the narrow scope, of such belief.

  It was almost frightening. He didn’t understand it.

  And he wanted nothing to do with it.

  Mikel didn’t believe in idealism. He was making changes because of Riana—not because his worldview had transformed.

  And he wasn’t sure he wanted to work with people who were motivated by such things. If it wasn’t for Riana, he would have simply walked out the door.

  “I’m not one of you, remember?” Mikel’s voice was as hard and confrontational as Connor’s had been. “I’m not bound by any of your ideals. I’m in this only to help Riana. Here’s a clear way to help her, one that wouldn’t be a significant risk. Why exactly shouldn’t I do it?”

  “I want to help Riana too,” Connor said, sounding more angry now than cold. “Despite what you’re implying, I want to get Jannie back as much—if not more—than you do. And we will. But we’re not going to use methods that put us on the same level as—”

  “We have to do something!”

  Riana’s voice broke through the building animosity between the two men. She looked back and forth between them, and her eyes were outraged and confused.

  “Jannie is out there somewhere. Who knows what’s happening to her? I can’t just sit around and wait anymore.” She looked to be on the verge of tears, but she didn’t break down. “What if Mikel can get information from the guy without hurting him? Shouldn’t we try that?”

  It was unworthy, perhaps, but Mikel felt a twinge of pleased vindication. Riana was on his side—at least as much as Connor’s.

  “We don’t know if it can be done,” Connor explained, his eyes softer now that he was talking to Riana. “And he couldn’t do it without the man knowing what he was up to. We’d still be in the position of having to keep him silent in order to protect ourselves. Let’s at least give Donn a chance to find out information about those supplies. If that fails, we can consider more drastic options.” He gave both of them a questioning look. “Can we at least wait one more day before we do anything rash?”

  Mikel had no desire to agree to this request. He didn’t see any good reason to wait at all, confident of his ability to handle the assistant effectively.

  But Riana, after a mental struggle that was reflected on her face, nodded. Connor let out a thick exhale at her acquiescence.

  Mikel didn’t say anything. He was willing to bide by Riana’s wishes, and right now that meant going along with Connor’s plan.

  As soon as she expressed any discontent with their present company, he was going to get them out of here. He would take her far away, where they would only have themselves and her sister to worry about.

  As far as Mikel was concerned, they’d be better off on their own.

  ***

  The truth had hit Connor some time between Riana’s arrival at his office that morning and his falling asleep like an idiot.

  She had no romantic feelings for him at all.

  She cared for him—that much was evident—and they had a connection that had survived the three years they’d spent apart. She thought of him as family, something she obviously needed.

  But she wasn’t in love with him. Wasn’t even close.

  It was something he’d known to expect. He’d been telling himself the same thing over and over again for the last three years—and even before. She might have had a crush on him a long time ago, but that was over. Now, she thought of him as a friend. Nothing more. Holding on to the romantic attachment for as long as he had, despite his efforts to let it go, was a painful, futile stupidity.

  He’d known it all along. When he’d given her up three years ago, he was supposed to have given up the hope of ever having a future with her. He’d thought he had—but there was always a small glimmer of hope, lurking just at the back of his conscious mind, telling him that maybe, maybe something could happen between them.

  Today had made it brutally obvious that his glimmer hope was in vain. She still didn’t love him.

  Had she had any sort of romantic feeling for him when he left her, she would have been a lot angrier at his disappearance.

  And now there was Mikel. The one she clearly did have feelings for. She was confused about him—that much was clear—but she was drawn to him in ways she’d never been drawn to Connor.

  Connor could accept the fact that he would never be with Riana the way he wanted. He would have to accept it. He wasn’t a child. He was an intelligent, realistic grown-up. Things didn’t always work out the way he wanted.

  He could resign himself to never having Riana.

  But he would never resign himself to letting her get hurt or seeing her with someone unworthy of her.

  The more he learned about Mikel, the more worried he became. Mikel might not be a bad-intentioned man, and he may genuinely be trying to help Riana. But Mikel wasn’t guided by any sort of higher purpose. He was smart and competent and gifted, but he wasn’t trying to be good.

  And Connor wanted good for Riana. He wanted the best. And he was afraid that Mikel would only pull her away from it.

  So, although he wasn’t surprised when Mikel was already with Riana the following day when Connor arrived at Tava’s apartment, he wasn’t pleased.

  Mikel had altogether too much influence with Riana, and Connor was afraid of where it might lead.

  “Donn should be here shortly,” Connor said, trying to dispel the note of disapproval he felt at Mikel’s ubiquitous presence. “He was going to great lengths to make sure he wasn’t followed.”

  “So he found something?” Riana asked. She was s
eated next to Mikel, and she looked pulled and exhausted.

  “That’s what his message said.”

  Connor had received the coded message at lunchtime from Donn, saying he’d discovered something and needed to meet. It was a relief. He wouldn’t have been able to put off Riana’s impatience and Mikel’s challenge for much longer.

  They made stilted small talk until Donn arrived, which fortunately was only a few minutes later.

  Donn didn’t waste any time. He was breathless from his walk over, and he lowered himself into a side chair with a groan. But his doughy face was set with purpose. “I looked into the expenditures of supplies for Largan’s office. And, let me tell you, I’ve never seen expense trails as confusing and meandering as these were. Even if I didn’t already suspect something, the effort taken to bury the expenditures would have been an obvious sign that something was up.”

  “You were able to trace them?” Mikel asked. His dark eyes, focused on Donn, didn’t look cool and distant the way they did when he looked at Connor. He must like Donn, or at least respect him.

  A detail Connor found interesting.

  “It took me all morning but, yes, I tracked them down.” Donn scratched at his scalp and shook his head. “But I’m not sure how much help my findings will be.”

  “What did you find?”

  Connor felt a pang of sharp pity for Riana—for the anxiety, near desperation, in her voice.

  She’d lost her sister. The only person she’d allowed herself to love and trust for years. It was foolish for him, or Mikel, or anyone else to expect her to make focused, sound decisions on anything until this main crisis was resolved.

  “There weren’t details about the specific supplies ordered—another red-flag, since the Union documents everything—but the supplies appear to be in the general categories of food and personal items. As well as medical supplies.”

  “Medical supplies?” Riana gasped. “Jannie would need—”

  “I know.” Donn brown eyes rested on her with an unexpected sympathy. “Perhaps it’s encouraging news. If they’re ordering medical supplies, then they must have plans to keep her healthy.”

  Riana’s gray eyes shifted to Connor. At the silent question he saw in them, he nodded in affirmation. “It might be a really good sign. But it won’t help us find her unless there’s more information. Where were the supplies to be delivered?”

  “Picked up,” Donn said glumly. “No address.”

  “There must have been some identification marker for the expenditures,” Mikel put in, appearing entirely focused on the puzzle. “What project or task were the purchases assigned to?”

  “That’s what confused me the most. The only identification marker was Steeple—which isn’t a project, task, office, or program I’m familiar with.” He shook his head. “I even asked a friend down at the Main Office to look it up for me in the current list of programs, and there wasn’t a Steeple listed.”

  Riana’s shoulders slumped, but Connor experienced a pang of concern that wasn’t caused by that evidence of her disappointment. “You’re taking too many risks, Donn.”

  There were so many ways the Front and the people involved could be put in danger. It was impossible to keep an impervious seal on the whole enterprise, but they’d done surprisingly well so far.

  Even so, all it would take was one incautious moment, and the whole thing could be blown wide open.

  Plus, Connor liked Donn. He didn’t want anything to happen to him.

  “I was careful.”

  “Your friend at the Main Office?”

  “I trust him. And I didn’t give any specifics about why I was asking.”

  “You need to be careful. You’re putting yourself out there by digging into all these financial records, but I don’t want you to take unnecessary risks. You’ll put yourself in danger.”

  Donn shrugged. Said, “So I’m in danger. What’s the point of believing in something unless you’re willing to act on it?”

  The words were casual, almost understated. Nothing about the big man was dramatic or charismatic.

  But something about what he’d said, what he’d meant—his willingness to sacrifice for what he believed in—struck Connor as oddly moving.

  He couldn’t help but think about Jenson, who’d done the same thing with the most brutal of results.

  Connor sometimes silently felt sorry for himself, for what he’d had to give up to do what he was doing.

  But he could learn a few things from men like Donn.

  Glancing over at Riana, he saw she was gazing at Donn with a similar expression in her eyes—surprise, feeling, something like awe.

  There was so much she needed to know. So much Connor wanted to tell her. And just no time in which to do so.

  Mikel shifted, looking uncharacteristically uncomfortable. “I’ve never heard of Steeple either,” he said, bringing them all back to the issue at hand. “Maybe it’s a classified project.”

  “Getting access to classified projects is going to be nearly—” Connor broke off, suddenly remembering something. “I remember hearing about an old program the Union experimented with. My father used to talk about it. It was called Steeple. But it’s been shut down for two decades at least.”

  “What was the project?” Riana asked, obviously trying to cling to whatever hope she could.

  “It can’t be related to our problem. It was an intelligence operation, intended to give the Union access to foreign communications.” Connor sorted through information in his mind, trying to remember everything he could about the random comments his father had made. “My dad was against it, of course. He was always protesting something or other.”

  The others were silent as Connor mulled over a new possibility. “But, wait. I do remember that there was some sort of secret headquarters for the operations. Maybe Steeple refers not to the project but to the location.”

  Riana sucked in a breath. “Maybe so! Where was the headquarters?”

  Connor hated himself for having to say it, for causing Riana’s face to fall the way it did. “I never knew. My father didn’t have that information.”

  Mikel had been considering this new possibility. “We can look into it a little more, but this sounds like it might be the best lead we’ve come across so far. Surely, it’s no coincidence their choosing the same name to identify the two projects. If the old Steeple project is no longer in play, they’d have it documented in the historical files in the Regional Archives.”

  “Yeah,” Riana said, her face brightening once more. “They would. They always use Readers to write out their history the way they want it told.”

  “The Archives?” Donn frowned as he spoke. “We’ll never get into the Archives. They’re guarded more than any other records the government keeps.”

  “We could get in if we have to,” Mikel said.

  Connor nodded. “It would be a challenge. But we have a number of resources. Give me a couple of days, and I can—”

  “A couple of days!” Riana interrupted. “I don’t want to wait a couple of days. We need to get into the Archives as soon as possible so we can find Jannie now.”

  Connor knew exactly how she was feeling, so he couldn’t even blame her for arguing with him. But he knew the kind of resources the Front had available, and breaking into Union archives would be one of the biggest challenges they’d ever faced. He needed the time to organize a workable plan and ensure they could put it into play. “I know it’s hard, but it’s the only way we can safely do it. If we just rush in, we’ll likely get caught, and then Jannie won’t have a chance.”

  Riana looked like she wanted to argue, but she bit her lip and looked away from him.

  The look in her eyes had been stubborn and disappointed, and Connor realized he wasn’t her favorite person at the moment.

  He couldn’t be. He had to lead here. That meant making decisions that weren’t popular. It sometimes meant disappointing people he wanted more than anything to make happy.

&nbs
p; He was surprised Mikel hadn’t argued. Hadn’t said anything at all.

  Maybe, for once, Mikel agreed with Connor’s assessment of the situation. Only a fool would break into the Archives unprepared.

  ***

  Riana left Tava’s apartment torn between hope and despair. They had more information now, and some of it might actually lead them to Jannie’s location.