by Brenna Lyons
The room was silent. No one moved until his mother crossed the room to him and tried to touch his face, her mind brushing over his shield.
Steven grasped her wrist before she could connect with him. “Don’t. Not now.”
Katie nodded and took a step back. “Then tell me.”
“Five days,” he whispered.
“Steven, she’ll contact you. When she can, she’ll contact you.”
“Those bastards kept her in the tank for five days.”
Jonas paled. He punched the headboard beside him in frustration and scrubbed his face with his hands. He didn’t look at Steven. “How bad is she?”
Steven closed his eyes. “I told her to do whatever she has to do. She can’t go back in. She’s exhausted. She’s terrified. She isn’t even capable of being angry right now.”
“Restraints?” he whispered. Jonas rubbed the bands that weren’t there. “Steven, did they use the restraints?” he demanded.
He winced. “At first. You were right. There’s a fake file somewhere. They think she’s a prisoner, a renegade. The time in iso was the worst for her. She has to touch my mind. If they take that away from her again—”
Jonas groaned. Stephen opened his eyes to the sight of him curling to the bed.
“What did I do to her?” he whispered with what sounded like the beginnings of tears.
“She doesn’t blame you.”
“You can’t know that. You said you can only read emotions from her at this distance, not thoughts.”
“I didn’t have to read it. She wants me to pass a message to you. She loves you and she’s sorry she hit you.”
For a long moment, Jonas didn’t reply. “Evan, I need you to make a call to Baker.”
Evan nodded, as if Jonas had given him a full explanation. “It just might work.”
Katie looked from one person to the next in confusion. “What are you going to do?”
Evan’s smile was vicious. “Give Baker incentives to keep her happy. When I’m done with him, they won’t dare put her in iso again.”
*
Jonas listened to the call, trying to find the humor in it he typically would. Evan played Baker well. Jonas closed his eyes and listened to Evan’s side of it.
“Is the damn phone secure?” Evan barked.
“Well, it’s your ass if it’s not. So, I’d be sure if I were you.
“Lousy. You pull that shit with her, and you want to know how Paige is? Are you nuts or just plain stupid?
“What do I mean? Have you read the files? Sarah may be weaker than I am, but her family’s not.
“Yeah, that’s right. Unlimited range within their family, remember? That doesn’t just mean the ones you can actively use. That means all of them. All of them can reach her, wherever you take her.
“Why don’t you check with your monkeys at Clinton? You told them she was a renegade prisoner. You idiot. Five days in iso. What did you tell them? Did you tell them she murdered a dozen norms in cold blood? Five days. They were antsy enough when they couldn’t reach her, thought she was drugged unconscious. You have three scattered talents now.
“How do you think she is after five days in the tank?” he bellowed. “Get this straight. You’re screwing around with a shaky balance. Any time she’s upset, your precious talent consortium will be useless. Now that they know what you’ve done to her, any time she’s out of contact, they’ll be useless. You want me to play keeper? I’m playing keeper to three neurotics, and you’re making it worse. Do you want this to fail or what?
“Well, that would be a smart move.” His voice went into deep sarcasm at that statement, as if Baker wasn’t capable of finding a smart idea if it bit him in the ass. “I’d suggest that everyone be damn careful with Sarah from here on out if I were you.
“Yeah. You’ll get your damn updates. Just muzzle those Clinton creeps, or there will be nothing happening to update you on.”
Evan hung up the phone and sighed. “I hate that man.”
Katie’s voice bordered on exhaustion. “That makes—Oh, dozens at least.”
“Hundreds. Thousands, maybe.”
Jonas didn’t bother to open his eyes. “Will it work?”
“For a little while,” Evan speculated. “She’s safe until we get our hands on Griffin. After that, all the rules change.”
“She better be. Otherwise, I can’t promise anything. You know I’ll renegade if it comes to that.”
“I know. I’m hoping to plan a real old-fashioned jailbreak, though.”
“How? They’ll have E-shields all around her.”
“Yeah, but you have the real thing to train on. You’ve busted shields before.”
“True mechanicals and weak biologicals. I’ve never breached a decent biological or a neuro-mechanical before.”
Evan sat on the bed next to him. “We have time, and we have an edge.”
“What edge?”
“Katie is a genius at dissecting the workings of any talent used. Steven can link outside his family, and you can neuro-model and crush shields. If it weren’t for your mind, the E-shield would have been impossible to make. If you can make it, you can break it. By putting the three of you together, they made a big mistake. By the time we’re done, you may all be crushing E-shields.”
Chapter Seven
May 16th
Sarah wiped the sleep from her eyes and wandered to the bathroom. She used the toilet then moved to the shower, standing under the hot spray and washing off layer after layer of grime. The shampoo and soap weren’t the type she’d typically use, but they were better than nothing. She pulled on a nightgown in the same Clinton navy blue and beige as the coveralls, brushed her teeth and curled back into bed.
A knock came at the door, and Sarah startled. They were knocking, now? She pulled the blanket up over her waist, a real blanket this time. “Come in.”
She rolled her eyes at the sight of her usual guard. So, he was her keeper? Sarah could have laughed at that. If only he knew that he was probably more talented than she was, what a joke that would be.
He ignored her expression, though she had no doubts that he saw it. He placed a stack of clothes on the foot of the bed. “You’re expected at breakfast. I’ll be waiting outside when you’re ready. The cameras have been ordered turned off in your quarters, but the sound will be left on. You don’t have to worry about getting dressed in this room. No one is watching.” His features were tense, as if that speech was very hard for him to have to deliver.
Sarah stifled a smile. “What if I’m not hungry?”
He met her eyes. He was furious, and he wasn’t shielding it well, though his face didn’t show it. She wondered why he stopped wearing the E-shield. Did he know she wasn’t a threat? Had he been ordered to treat her like any other inmate and rely on his personal shield?
His voice was low and full of menace. “I don’t give a damn if you’re hungry or not. When the head of DoPT comes to see you, you see him.”
Sarah swallowed a sour lump. “Andrew Baker is here?”
She had seen the oily, dark-haired man on the news for the last fifteen or so years. He was the original operative, the obvious choice for head of DoPT when it became its own agency instead of a joint subdivision of the DoD and NSA. Word was that he had a shot at the presidency in ten or fifteen more years.
The guard nodded. “Who the hell are you, Sarah?”
Sarah shook her head, suddenly terrified. “Sometimes it’s not who you are but who you know.”
“Jonas?”
She nodded.
“Who is Jonas?”
She shook her head. The guard set his jaw and nodded, slamming the door behind him on the way out.
Sarah reached for the clothes with shaking hands. They were lacy and frilly, silk dresses, nothing like what she would choose to wear. These clothes weren’t chosen to replace what was at her apartment. These were clothes chosen for Baker’s enjoyment. She pushed them away and headed for the closet, pulling out one of the C
linton coveralls obviously stocked for her in her size. Sarah didn’t know what Baker’s game was, but there were worse things than wearing the coverall.
*
Andrew Baker stood as she entered the room and motioned to a seat across the table from him. Sarah bit back a sarcastic response and took her seat. There was a covered plate in front of her. She forced herself to remove the stainless steel lid and pick up her fork, the first real silverware Sarah had seen in six days. The plate was stoneware with the Clinton logo, and there were real glasses. They either believed that she wouldn’t dare make a move against Baker or that he could stop her before she did. At the moment, both were true.
Even though the thought of sharing a meal with him made her feel ill, Sarah refused to let Baker see it. She cut a corner of her omelette and started eating without acknowledging his presence.
Baker took his seat as she started chewing, obviously realizing that she wasn’t going to offer any pleasantries. “Why are you wearing the coveralls? I sent clothes for you.”
“I know many people admire you, Mr. Baker. I’m sure most of them do exactly what you want. I’m not going to be one of those people. If you want a woman to dress up in frilly smocks for you, get a girlfriend.” She took another bite of her omelette and avoided his eyes.
Baker had gone red in fury, a fury that had his shield flickering for a moment of tense silence. He cleared his throat and uncovered his own plate, feigning indifference. “You don’t want to wear the academy coveralls, but you won’t wear street clothes when I supply them. You confuse me.”
Sarah coughed on a bit of egg that headed down the wrong pipe. Street clothes? Who wore street clothes like those? She didn’t rise to the bait. Until she knew Baker’s game, it wasn’t a safe bet. “Why lock me up for five days to get your way then change your mind? I don’t play mind games, Mr. Baker.”
“Drew—That wasn’t my doing. I wasn’t aware that there was a battle over your clothing or that you had been detained in the isolation tank.”
Sarah raised an eyebrow at him. “Why don’t you get to the point, Mr. Baker?”
His eyes narrowed. Calling him that after he asked her to call him Drew upset him. Did he want to play at being friends or were those dresses a sign that he had other thoughts in mind? Sarah slammed her shield up fully as Baker brushed over it.
He smiled. “It wasn’t my doing. I assure you that things will be different now.”
Sarah shrugged. “How so?”
“What do you want?”
“Open the front door and let me leave.”
Baker looked at her in shock.
“Thought so.”
“Besides that.”
“From you? Not a damn thing.”
Baker sighed. “I thought your brother and Paige were tough. You’re impossible.”
She shrugged. “I’m female.”
Sarah ate three more bites of her omelette, while Baker studied her. His look was inscrutable. His shield was firmly in place. Sarah had no idea what he was feeling, though she wished she did. Emotions coupled with words and body language could usually allow her to read people very well. Baker didn’t want her having any clue to his ultimate goals. He was good at hiding what he was after. He must have been good to get Jonas into this mess.
“One of the top Navy OBs has been assigned to you. He’ll be transferred here in three weeks.”
“Don’t bother. Your hacks aren’t laying a hand on me.”
Baker rubbed his forehead. “That’s got to change. There’s never been a baby like this before.”
Sarah laughed harshly. “One between a two-bit talent from an important family and an operative you want to blackmail? God willing, this is a first. I’m almost afraid to ask how you managed this. The Trojan boys will be pissed at you, Mr. Baker.”
Baker cracked a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Don’t worry. We set up Paige nicely. Our guys have been working on the perfect sabotage for ten years.”
She rolled her eyes. “Typical man. You set me up. I’m the one who’s carrying this baby, and I’m the one being used as a hostage to keep Jonas under your thumb.”
“You really don’t understand, do you?”
“What is there to understand? You ordered Jonas to fuck me, hoping he’d fall for me. Even if he didn’t, your psych tests probably indicated that a baby would be his weakness. I got the why me part. You can kill a whole flock of birds with one stone. Why Jonas? Did the psych tests say he was the most likely sucker or does he have something special you don’t want to lose? Were you already losing him and needed someone to use against him?”
Baker laughed long and hard, his whole body shaking with the force of his mirth. His eyes twinkled. Sarah felt the omelette fight to come back up.
“Yes, he was. You really don’t know who he is, do you?”
Sarah tried for nonchalant. “Jonas Paige. He’s a talent born in Portsmouth, VA to a Navy Dad and a school teacher Mom in nineteen ninety-seven.”
“Jonas Paige. He’s Alpha One. As far as we know, he is the number one rated talent in the world. He has been since he was fourteen. No one comes close to his numbers.”
“He can’t be.”
“He doesn’t know. You think we’re stupid enough to tell him that?”
Sarah felt an icy knot forming in her stomach. She wanted to run back to her room, but she wouldn’t give Baker the satisfaction of seeing her rattled. “You want to own a super baby.” She didn’t make it a question. She didn’t need to. Oh, Jonas was important to him, but their baby was much more important.
Baker smiled, looking more like a vampire than a politician. “The OB will be here in three weeks.”
“He can take his tests and poke around, but he’s not doing a full exam as long as I’m stuck here.”
Baker shrugged, steepling his fingers in front of his face. “In time. Anything you want, you can have, Sarah. Ask for anything within reason, and it’s yours within twenty-four hours. There will be no strings, no games. If it can’t be provided by the staff here, I’ll have it sent to you.”
“Jonas threatened not to cooperate?”
“His keeper did it for him. He’s not worth anything to me, if he can’t do his job. You—” He narrowed his eyes. “You are worth quite a bit to me.”
“For the baby or for Jonas?”
“On more levels than you can possibly comprehend.”
Sarah nodded. Baker wasn’t going to make his move now. He didn’t dare, but it would come when he thought he was safe. Baker wanted a super baby from the Randall-Paige connection, but he didn’t want it to stop there. She was sure of it.
“I’m not very hungry, Mr. Baker. I’d like to take a walk, if we’re done here.”
“Anything you want, Sarah. Anything.”
She wasted no time. Sarah left the conference room without slowing down.
Her guard shot after her. “What are you doing?” he demanded.
“Where is the lawn?” She kept moving away from her room, sure that she had been placed far from doors.
“The what?”
“Courtyard? Garden? Outside area presumably surrounded by a fence or wall and sporting green growing things and something that passes for fresh air.”
“You haven’t—”
“Check again, Rambo. I’ve been cleared for damn near anything but walking out the front door.” Sarah came to a T and looked at him expectantly.
The guard looked around in confusion then shook his head. “This way.” He led her to a rec room full of tables of children and teens playing cards and board games, air hockey and ping-pong.
Sarah crossed her arms over her chest. “This is what you call a garden? No wonder the kids hate it here.”
“No. This is what I call a place for you to relax, out of your room, while I check out your story. If I get the green light, I’ll take you outside. Agreed?”
Sarah settled onto a woven couch and nodded, while he went to a locked phone on the wall. The guard kept his
eyes glued to Sarah, as if he expected her to bolt for a door the moment his back was turned. Was that what they told him to expect? Well, if it weren’t for the fact that she knew there was no way out, Sarah might have done just that, but why expend energy on a hopeless cause? If Steven couldn’t escape, there was no way she could.
He returned and nodded stiffly. “Let’s go.”
She could feel his confusion and frustration, but she didn’t comment on it. It was obvious that Sarah’s carte blanche treatment was going to cause tension between them, but that was hardly her concern. As long as the guard stayed out of her way, Sarah didn’t care about much else.
“Your story checks out. You’re to be kept on Max-Sec lockdown wing. That is non-negotiable. So, don’t ask. Other than that, everything is negotiable.”
“I was told everything but walking out the front door was a given, not simply negotiable. Baker going back on his word already?”
“Everything will be based on your ultimate safety. Max-Sec is where you stay for your safety. In lockdown, no one else will be able to get to you.”
Like Jonas. She nodded. “All right. I think I can live with that. Who decides?”
“What?”
“Who decides whether or not to grant a request?”
“Headmaster Fuller. Who else?”
“Yeah. I should probably warn you that Baker has already told me he will override if I ask. Maybe you should let Fuller know that.” It was a bluff, but it was a good one.
The guard looked at her in stunned disbelief. “Well, Baker agreed with Max-Sec placement, so I wouldn’t try pulling rank on that one.”
“Fine.”
He grumbled under his breath as they walked.
Sarah looked at him out of the corner of her eye, wondering if she could get information from him that might be useful. “What did they tell you about me?”
The guard shrugged. “You’re a reformed renegade who is the key to a renegade cell. Is Daddy a renegade?” His snide tone announced that he believed it of her.
She would have laughed if the thought of it didn’t make her physically ill. “Hardly.”
“Yeah. When you were brought in, the DoPT idiots only told us you were a renegade who had to be doped for transport. Hope they creamed those fools as badly as we got it.”