Degrees of Wrong

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Degrees of Wrong Page 32

by Anna Scarlett


  “Why didn’t you two just fess up in Manzanillo?”

  I ignored him still, using my finger to smooth out the lines of my wayward

  application.

  “You both should have fessed up, right then and there,” he persisted.

  “There wasn’t anything to fess…confess. Besides, if you hadn’t been so self-

  absorbed, you might have noticed the tension there.”

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  “Am I to believe that you, of all people, are accusing me of being unobservant?” He had a good point. I frowned.

  Outside, buildings and structures became a blur with our impossible speed.

  “He’s too old for you, you know. I’m closer to you in age,” he said.

  “He’s twenty-nine. Five years older than me.”

  “I know. He’s almost thirty. He’s practically molding.”

  I rolled my eyes and peered out the window. Why were we going so fast?

  “We could still elope, you know. I would take you wherever you wanted to

  go. Where would it be? Hawaii? Japan?”

  “I’m equally disinterested in both.”

  “What if you were going with Nicoli? Then where would you want to go?”

  he asked, miffed.

  “I tend not to pay attention to my surroundings when I’m with your brother.

  So, really, it wouldn’t matter.”

  He scowled. “Sometimes the true response is not always the most

  appropriate one.”

  “And sometimes it is.”

  “Well, I’m still not sure that I missed something in Manzanillo. So, you’re

  saying you were in love with my brother at that point, right?”

  I nodded. Good grief, but he had a thick head.

  “And he was in love with you, right?”

  “I’m not sure,” I told him, hesitant.

  “Of what are you unsure?”

  “I’m not exactly sure if he’s in love with me. I think he might be.” He must be, right? He wouldn’t go to all this trouble for a fling. Would he? But we hadn’t talked about what all this meant, either. We hadn’t made plans, except for the

  immediate future. And the presentation today would conclude those. Unless you

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  counted dinner as plans for the future. And…he never actually told me he loved

  me. Still, I never told him either. And I did love him, had no doubt about my

  own feelings for him. But…I was the most unobservant person alive. Had I misinterpreted what was happening between us?

  “You must be joking. My brother’s given you reason to question his feelings

  for you?”

  I huffed. “I didn’t say that. I know he cares for me—”

  “Cares for you? This just gets better and better.” He snorted.

  I unstrapped the seat belt and plodded my way to sit next to him. I strapped

  in again. He eyed me curiously. “That was unexpected. Have a change in heart?”

  I shook my head.

  “So,” he continued on cheerfully, “my brother cares for you, then. You’re like a long-lost cousin to him. Ow! For the love of God. What…do they pull girls out

  of class and teach them how to pinch?”

  I raised a brow, pinchers in ready position again.

  “You—you were waiting for me to say something you didn’t like.”

  I flashed an evil grin.

  “This is the last time I do him a favor,” he grumbled.

  “What? What did you say? Doing who a favor?” My thoughts flew to

  General Marek. And it was then that I realized he’d sent Ryon to kidnap me and

  force me into marriage. I glanced around the cabin and out the window. I

  wondered if the vehicle was moving too fast to jump and roll.

  Suddenly, it stopped. Startled, I looked outside. We were already at the

  conference center. Photographers hoarded around the vehicle with lights

  flashing, the clamor around us almost deafening.

  “We’re here,” he said. “Nicoli sent me with you to distract you. He said you

  would worry yourself into a coma if you didn’t have a distraction.”

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  “You…you were saying those things to distract me? You weren’t trying to

  kidnap me?”

  He laughed. “Tempting, but no. Although, he’s going to be mighty interested

  in what we talked about… Well, shall we?” He held his hand out to me.

  “You’re not getting out with me. It will look like…like…” Like we were

  together.

  “Yes.” He grinned. “It will. Nicoli will be furious.”

  I peeked around the curtain to see the myriad of people packed into the

  stadium-like auditorium, waiting to hear me squeak unintelligibly on stage. My

  pulse raced, and really, I shouldn’t have eaten anything for breakfast because it was trying to make a presentation of its own. I didn’t see a single person I knew except for Ryon, who kept making funny faces at me every time I poked my head

  out.

  This last time, I had stuck my tongue out at him and had retracted quickly

  into the sanctity of the curtain when I heard some hushed chuckles.

  My eyes kept glancing back to the table directly in front of the podium. Dr.

  Folsom’s chair sat empty. Her vehicle had left before mine, so she should really

  be here by now. I wondered if she had taken ill, because if she had, I would

  happily postpone this for another day…

  “Dr. Morgan, we’re ready for you,” said the short man I knew to be

  Professor Tulio.

  I inhaled and exhaled, then stepped out onto the stage. Amid the resounding

  applause, I heard Dr. Tulio introduce me to the crowd from the podium. My

  podium.

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  “Although I can tell by the applause that she needs no further introduction,

  may I present to you Dr. Elyse Morgan.”

  Impossibly, the applause roared louder as I made my way across the two-

  mile-long stage. Where is Nicoli? Where is Dr. Folsom? Where is my tongue?

  I reached the stand and accessed the computer there, retrieving my notes.

  One last time, I inhaled. And then I began. I looked up to the crowd at the

  unfamiliar faces, the important faces, the faces of intellect. And I smiled. “I

  would like to apologize in advance for my speaking ability. If I’d thought I’d

  have to give a speech about it, I might not have tried to find the cure at all,” I told them, laughing nervously. Hot damn, my tongue worked.

  The collective laughter resonated throughout the auditorium. It made me

  feel better. A little. My father had taught me that trick. Always start with an

  icebreaker.

  Suddenly, my icebreaker fell by the wayside, and my anxiety about my

  speech was replaced and compounded by a new worry. The doors on either side

  of the auditorium were kicked open, and huge soldiers with huge guns started to

  pour in and up the stadium stairs. Their pace was at a half trot, half march, and only when the entire room was lined with the lot of them did they stop, planting

  their feet in place.

  Anxious murmurs erupted throughout the room. Half of the audience was

  looking to me for direction and the other half couldn’t help but gawk at the

  spectacle-creating obstacles in front of all the exits.

  I looked down to Ryon, but he shrugged once. He seemed alert but markedly


  less worried than his frantic counterparts. He knew these men, I realized. These

  men were wearing UOC uniforms.

  Dr. Tulio scurried across the stage and pulled at my sleeve. “Uh, Dr. Morgan,

  your presence has been requested in the back offices.”

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  I looked to Ryon for approval, and he nodded slightly. I hurried off the stage

  with the fumbling professor.

  He led me down the hall behind the stage. My heels clicked loudly in the

  frantic pace of our flight. He stopped and opened the door to a room on the left, and bid me enter. I did so alone, and he shut the door behind me.

  The room was completely empty, except for Nicoli and Ralph, who were

  both scowling. A short moment later, Ryon entered quietly behind me.

  “What’s with the freak show?” he asked.

  “There has been a development,” Nicoli said grimly.

  Ralph held a drawn expression. This was the first time I’d seen him in person

  since that day he bid me farewell on the docks of a beach I still didn’t know the location of.

  Nicoli motioned for me to come to him. I did so, waiting patiently for him to

  explain his meaning. “It would appear that Dr. Folsom has been abducted.” As

  he said this, he grabbed both my arms to hold me steady.

  “What?” I gasped. “By who? Why? What do they want? Money?”

  I had more questions, but he stopped them. “Her vehicle was diverted and

  left the convoy. When we tracked its location, it was empty. Even the driver was

  gone. There was a video chip left on the seat. Lean into me, love. You don’t look very good.”

  I was dizzy. The room was swirling, or my head was spinning, or both, and I

  did lean into him. “How much are they asking for?”

  “It’s Ares Petropoulos. And he’s not asking for money, love.”

  “What? No. Nicoli, you can’t go! He’ll kill you, he’ll—”

  “He doesn’t want me, love. He wants to exchange Dr. Folsom for…for…” he

  stammered.

  I felt sickened. “Me.”

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  Nicoli nodded.

  “But why? I’ve already turned the cure over to the UN. What good am I to

  him?”

  “For the same reason he sought out your father after he refused to work for

  him. Revenge,” Ralph said.

  “Then just tell me when and where.”

  “What do you mean?” Nicoli asked.

  “When and where do we make the exchange?” I clarified.

  “Damn it, Elyse.” He shook me. “There isn’t going to be any exchange.”

  That’s when I snapped. “You listen to me, Nicoli Marek. I’m not going to

  allow any harm to come to Dr. Folsom because of me. I provoked him. She’s not

  going to pay for that. And I will do whatever it takes—”

  “She’s the mole, Elyse,” he blurted, shaking me again.

  I wrenched myself from his grasp and took a step back. He allowed me to

  move away from him. “Wh-what?” I looked to Ryon and Ralph. Both remained

  silent.

  Nicoli’s expression softened, but he didn’t move toward me. “She’s the mole

  we were looking for, Elyse. She works for Petropoulos.”

  “That’s…that’s not possible.” I shook my head. “She was my mother’s

  closest friend.”

  He nodded. “Which proved to be of great value to him, I’m sure. Listen, love.

  I need you to listen to me. I promise to explain everything, if you promise to

  listen. Do you promise?”

  I wasn’t sure if I really could just listen. Not to this.

  By his expression, Nicoli wasn’t sure either. “On the ship, when you were so

  sick and I was staying in your room at night, I had a lot of time to think about

  what happened. At first, I thought this mole had just been waiting for the perfect

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  opportunity and found it when Dr. Folsom became ill. I thought Petropoulos had

  just gotten a lucky break. But that theory wasn’t consistent with the Bellator’s communication records. Remember I told you that there weren’t any

  inappropriate communications with the prison?”

  I nodded, trying hard to follow.

  “Well, I accessed the prison’s communications records. The call came from the beach house, Elyse. The night before we left the Maldives.”

  I gasped.

  “She faked the illness in order to force us to send you to the prison,” he said

  angrily. “Conveniently, Dr. Folsom was unavailable, and we all know what

  happened to Dr. Yomato at the prison. That only left you. So, Petropoulos

  suddenly developed a heart condition.”

  “But…she wasn’t faking it, Nicoli. You can’t fake what she had…what I had.

  Half the crew contracted it.”

  “She poisoned you, love. She poisoned the crew, and herself as well. I figure

  she must have been faking her symptoms that night we re-boarded the Bellator. I went back and checked her accesses. She left her room that night. She went to the mess hall.”

  “She poisoned the food?” I was getting sicker by the second.

  “Yes. I figured that out when I didn’t get sick. You and I both know that if it

  was a virus, I would have gotten it from you, love.”

  “You wouldn’t keep your hands off me. I was worried about that, actually.

  So, she poisoned herself too. Who would do such a thing?”

  “Of course, that’s a bit hypocritical of you, love,” he said, amused.

  Oh. I had done virtually the same thing. I shrugged, sheepish.

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  “At any rate,” he continued, “she waited until after you had seen

  Petropoulos to poison your food supply. She must have done that for effect. You

  couldn’t have treated all those patients and not contracted it yourself.”

  “But I ate at the mess hall too, Nicoli. I should have been sick sooner, with

  everyone else,” I reasoned. “Also, what about your food?”

  “You realize I was referring to the chocolate, Elyse. She didn’t poison the

  chocolate until after you had returned. And my food is kept separate from the

  crew’s, due to my—”

  “Royal blood?” I offered. He scowled but didn’t correct me.

  “Anyway,” he said, “I began to see a much bigger picture. Her friendship

  with your mother made her an invaluable asset to Petropoulos. You had said that

  he met with your father before. No doubt she had a hand in arranging the

  meeting somehow. And I believe…” He paused and ran his hand through his

  hair. “I believe she may have been instrumental in your parents’ death. She was

  in contact with your mother in Portugal the day of your father’s lecture.”

  My hand flew to my mouth to stifle a sob or vomit or both. The tears

  streamed freely now. I held up my other hand to Nicoli to stop him from coming

  any closer. I just needed a moment to gain control. He stared at me, a helpless

  look on his face.

  “Go on,” I told him hoarsely, after a long moment.

  “Of course, she would have been the one to give Petropoulos your name in

  the first place. She would have told him of your work.”

  “But…who told the UN? I had always thought that she was the one—”<
br />
  “I found that a surveillance team specifically assigned to Ares had picked up

  some intel with your name in it as the target. Apparently, it had been decided

  that if Ares Petropoulos was interested in you, then so should the United Nations be. When they checked your background, they must have found out whose

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  daughter you were. They were already aware of what he’d done to your parents,

  so they sent forces to retrieve you.”

  Ralph interjected, “We didn’t know exactly why Petropoulos wanted you,

  but we guessed it had something to do with your father.”

  “But…but you said that first day, that you were there because of my work on the Black Death,” I reminded him.

  “And your response confirmed our suspicions, but we didn’t know with any

  certainty. If you were indeed trying to find the cure, we were going to offer our assistance. If not, we were still going to offer you protection from Petropoulos, out of respect for your father.”

  “Out of respect for him? How did my father come to have such a rapport

  with the United Nations? He despised the UN.”

  “He didn’t always despise it, Dr. Morgan. In his younger days, he was

  actually the director of the epidemiology department of the World Health

  Organization.”

  “He never once in his life told me that.” Why didn’t this room have chairs? I

  needed to sit down.

  Ralph shrugged. “He wasn’t proud of it. He had some strong disagreements

  with the double standards of that time. He resigned his position. He didn’t leave on bad terms. He was a very ethical man.”

  “You knew my father.”

  “I did. That’s why I didn’t think you would come willingly with us that day.

  I was quite sure he had instilled in you a distaste for the UN.”

  I nodded. He had done exactly that.

  “And since they were unsure of your status,” Nicoli added, “the admiral and

  I had merely been informed that you would be on our ship for witness

  protection.”

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  “Ironically, we had chosen the Bellator because of your ties with Dr. Folsom.

  To make you feel more comfortable.” Ralph shook his head. “We played right

  into his hands.”

  Again, I covered my mouth with one hand and pressed into my stomach

  with the other, trying to suppress the pain welling there. Dr. Folsom’s betrayal

 

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