by Jan Gangsei
“I’ve been fine, Ad,” she said, her voice cool and distant.
Addie nodded and decided to change the subject. “I met one of your friends at Cabot. Olivia, I think it was.”
“Oh yeah. She just sent me a picture of the dress she got for prom. Did you and Mom find something awesome? A Janie Liu original, right? Jealous. I’ve been begging Mom to let her design something for me for years. Guess I’ll just have to live with off-the-rack.”
“Does that mean you’re coming Saturday?” Addie said, voice cracking. She didn’t know if she could deal with having her sister at her side, when…
“Don’t worry,” Elinor said, standing up. “I won’t be there. Shrinks won’t let me near any sort of party yet. You’ll have Darrow all to yourself.”
“What?” The heat rose in Addie’s cheeks.
“Seriously, it’s fine,” Elinor said as she walked toward the door. “I’m over him anyway.”
Addie did a double take as her little sister spun around and regarded Addie, head cocked to the side.
“Oh, he didn’t tell you?” Elinor said. Her eyes softened, and for a moment Addie could see Ellie as she once was, the little girl who had cried when Addie killed a spider in the playroom. Then the spite returned to her sister’s eyes.
“Tell me what?” Addie said, mouth dry.
“About us,” Elinor said, watching Addie’s face for a reaction. Addie pushed her lips together, refusing to give her one. “Eh,” Elinor continued. “It was only a couple months. Not like it’s sloppy seconds or anything.”
Before Addie could come back with any sort of retort, Elinor was at the door. “See you at dinner, Ad.”
The next morning, Darrow sat in Harper’s studio, drumming his fingers on the table and watching the door. Where was Addie? She’d ignored all his texts and calls yesterday. Having Harper pretend to want to see her was the only way he could think of to talk to Addie alone. Darrow chewed on his bottom lip, checking the time again. Five more minutes and he’d be late to class.
A light knock snapped Darrow from his thoughts. The door in front of him opened.
“Harper?” Addie said softly. She walked into the room. Darrow stood and caught her gently by the arm, pushing the door shut. Addie’s eyes went wide and she recoiled from his touch.
“What are you doing here?” she said.
“I needed to talk to you,” Darrow said. “And you won’t return any of my calls.”
“Maybe that’s because I don’t want to talk to you,” Addie said, turning toward the door. Darrow quickly slid in front of it. He shook his head. Addie glared at him. “I’m serious, Darrow,” she said. “Get out of my way.”
“No,” he said. “Not until I get some answers.”
“Really? You want answers?” she retorted.
Darrow didn’t know what that was supposed to mean. He pressed on. “Yes, I want answers,” he said. “For starters, what do you know about General McQueen?”
A flicker of something—recognition, guilt?—crossed Addie’s face. She glanced away, staring at the unlit red “on air” light above Darrow’s head. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said flatly. “I’ve never met the guy.”
“Really?” Darrow said. “Because he sure seemed to know you. In fact, when he died—right in front of me—the only name to come out of his mouth was yours.” Addie shifted her gaze back to Darrow. “Weird, right?” he said. “You’d think a dying guy’s last words would be for his wife. Or kids. Or maybe God or something.”
“What?” she said. “Why would he say something about me?”
“Good question,” Darrow said, not taking his eyes off Addie. “Because word is, McQueen didn’t have a heart attack, or some sort of overdose, or commit suicide…someone killed him.” Addie began to back up slowly, bumping into the table. Darrow could see her lower lip quivering.
“I swear, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said. “Maybe you misunderstood.…”
“Maybe. But I definitely didn’t misunderstand this,” Darrow said. He pulled down the collar of his shirt, exposing the small, scabbed-over spot where the knife had pricked his skin Saturday night. Addie gasped. “This is what some guy did to me. Right after he told me to stay away from you. Seems you’re pretty popular these days.…”
“You’re starting to scare me, Dare,” she said.
“You should be scared, Ad,” he said, voice growing louder. “I’m scared. I don’t know what you’re involved in, but it’s not too late. Whatever it is, you can get out.…Prom isn’t until this weekend. Whatever you’re planning…” Darrow stopped short as Addie’s back straightened, her trembling lip suddenly stiff.
“You think I’m planning something?” she said coolly.
Darrow hesitated. He hadn’t meant to let that slip.
“Yes—I heard you,” Darrow said, trying to regain his composure. “Talking to that man after the reception…”
Addie’s face turned bright red and she breathed loudly through her nose. “You were spying on me?” she said, voice rising. “How?” Darrow didn’t respond, but his eyes flicked reflexively to the locket around her neck. Addie’s lips parted and she glanced down in shock.
She yanked the silver chain from her neck and threw it to the ground. The butterfly clattered across the floor and cracked in half. The bug fell out. Addie pressed her lips together, blinking back tears. “I can’t believe I ever trusted you. My sister was right.…”
“Elinor…” Darrow said under his breath, putting it together.
“Yeah, Elinor. Were you ever going to tell me?” Addie said. “Or did you just think I’d never find out? What was I, your backup plan until she got out of rehab?”
“No,” Darrow said vehemently. “I swear it wasn’t like that. Elinor…” He balled his hands into fists and released them. “There are a million reasons why we never…that doesn’t matter right now.” He took a shaky breath. “What matters is you. Please, let me help you.”
“Help me?” Addie said with a snort. “If you wanted to help me, you wouldn’t have lied to me.”
“You’re calling me a liar?” Darrow said. “All you’ve done is lie to me since the moment you got home! And get me to lie for you. Maybe start with what you were really doing out in the woods that night in Virginia!”
Addie stepped in front of Darrow, so close he could feel the heat of her breath on his face. She was shaking with anger, and something else. There was a wildness in her eyes that he’d never seen before, a desperation that had been simmering below the surface and was finally out in the open. She closed the distance between them, and her body was suddenly pressed against his, her chin tilting up as his lips found hers. He deepened the kiss, feeling her lips parting as his hands traveled down to her waist. He slipped one under her thin T-shirt and felt the warm skin of her back. Her fingers were tangled in his hair and they tightened as he pulled her closer, his tongue exploring her mouth. Every nerve ending in his body was on fire. Suddenly she broke away from him, gasping.
“Darrow—” Her cheeks were flushed, and there were wisps of dark hair all around her face.
He tried to catch his breath. He couldn’t look away from those green eyes, blazing with a furious kind of energy that he never wanted to see snuffed out.
“Darrow,” she whispered again. “I can’t.”
“Why? Why can’t you?” he said.
“Because you’ll only get hurt.” She whirled around, flung the door open, and raced into the hall. He heard Alvarez’s alarmed questions on the opposite side, and their voices faded into the din of the hallway.
Darrow slid to the ground, his back against the wall, breathing like he’d run a marathon. Because you’ll only get hurt.…How could Addie hurt him any more than she already had? It wasn’t possible. Nothing could hurt worse than the guilt he’d felt over her kidnapping, the years he’d let himself veer off-track, the emptiness of her absence. Even a knife-prick to the neck didn’t compare.
Excep
t…he’d seen Addie’s eyes flashing wildly just before she kissed him, and he knew it was possible. She could hurt him. The only way to protect himself was the one thing it killed him to do—stay away from Addie Webster.
Addie could barely focus for the rest of the day. She and Darrow avoided each other, but all she could think about was the lingering warmth of his lips on hers, even as fear gnawed away at her. Someone had gone after Darrow, because of Addie. She knew about McQueen’s blackmail attempts. But McQueen was dead. So who? And what the hell was Darrow talking about anyway, that someone might have killed McQueen?
The questions dogged her all afternoon. The only explanation Addie could come to—the most frightening one of all—was that McQueen must have found something. Something big.
When Addie got home from school, she went straight to her room. She opened her computer and headed for McQueen’s directory.
She searched for half an hour through every single one of his files, but came up empty. Definitely nothing in there that would have gotten him killed. Most of the guy’s time seemed to have been dedicated to researching security protocols, terror groups, and cyber threats. None of that was out of the ordinary. That was his job. She must be missing something.
She read through McQueen’s file directories, then his e-mail folder and calendar for a second and third time.
That’s when it hit her. Something was missing…
Cerberus.
McQueen had been hired directly in response to the Cerberus scandal, yet there wasn’t a single file on his computer related to it. Not a single e-mail. Not one word. Addie knew the White House had kept McQueen on a short leash, but it wasn’t plausible that there would be nothing to show for his six months in office. Someone had wiped all traces of Cerberus away.
Addie knew only one person who would have the skill—or the motive—to scrub McQueen’s computer of everything Cerberus-related. Her father. But why hide it from her? Unless…he was only giving her half the story, only telling her what he thought she needed to hear in order to get the job done.
The back of Addie’s neck began to sweat; she could almost feel him there, leaning over her, whispering in her ear.
Don’t do it, Lilla. You can’t hide anything from me. I know your every step, before you even take it.…
Addie wiped the cold sweat from her neck and started typing anyway. He hadn’t changed her password in the home network, which came as a surprise, given his paranoia. Maybe it was just because he knew she’d be back. Or maybe it was something worse…like a trap he knew he could catch her with. Like all those times she’d run out the unlocked front door, only to find him waiting on the other side.
She covered her tracks as best she could as she read through Karl’s directories. He was meticulous, every operation—the Republican fund-raiser, the Metro attack, the hijacked car, even the drone flying over the White House gates—all carefully documented with e-mails, screenshots of chat rooms and text messages that showed their planning. She’d never dug deeply into her father’s files, and part of her wanted to scroll through every bit, find out what else he was hiding. But she knew every minute she spent hacking his system was one minute closer to exposing herself.
She opened another directory and searched for the most recent files, finding a folder simply labeled GJM. General James McQueen. She clicked it open. Everything was there—frustrated e-mails between McQueen and the NSA director, spreadsheets charting the location of Cerberus’s messages, IP addresses, lists of suspected Cerberus members throughout the world. A final note to himself:
Believe to have isolated Cerberus IP address. Traced communication between Cerberus chat room IP and computer on White House network. Need AW computer for confirmation.
The last file was a message to Darrow, requesting a meeting.
An hour later, McQueen was dead.
So that was it. McQueen had connected her to Cerberus. But it didn’t appear he’d had a chance to share what he’d found with anyone. Except maybe Darrow. Addie tapped the trackpad and shakily moved the cursor to exit Karl’s computer. She’d already spent too long on here. But something caught her eye. A folder labeled Turkey Point.
Despite her fears, Addie clicked it open. The file contained the evidence Karl had sent to the press—screenshots Addie had taken of the chat room where the terrorists had planned their attack that proved the administration had missed critical intelligence.
But that wasn’t all. Karl’s file also contained several screenshots of the main power grid, as well as Turkey Point’s core monitor with its temperature rising. A wave of nausea washed over Addie before her eyes could even fully accept what she was seeing. Addie hadn’t taken any screenshots of the power grid or the Turkey Point page before shutting the reactor down. Just the chat room. There hadn’t been time for anything more. And no one else knew about the attack, no one else had been watching, it had all been up to her to stop it…so how did Karl have these images? The answer hit her like a ton of bricks.
Addie stood so quickly her chair toppled backward, hitting the hardwood floor with a thud. Karl had known about the attack on the nuclear power stations beforehand. Suddenly the timing, the fact that Karl had been so conveniently unreachable right when the attack was under way, made her wonder…what if the Yemeni terrorists hadn’t been pulling the strings? What if it was just…Karl? Her head was swimming, and for a moment she thought she might pass out. She knew the attack had been real. And she knew if she hadn’t stopped it, millions would have died. Just so Karl could prove a point. Just so he could manipulate Addie into carrying out the next phase of his plan—infiltrating the White House.
Addie reached over and pressed the power button on her computer, holding it until the screen went dark. Tears clouded her vision. She grabbed her phone. She needed answers. She typed a Burnchat message.
Father. Have acquired Shi. Need to meet.
The response came back almost immediately.
Excellent work, Lilla. Handoff tomorrow. Will message later with details.
After suffering through the world’s longest dinner, barely able to look Elinor in the eye, Addie returned to her computer and inserted the thumb drive holding Shi into her USB port. She spent the next several hours reading through layers of code. Her mother had been right; the program was brilliant.
But…Addie hadn’t been lying at lunch the day before. It was also terrifying. She hesitated. There were no take-backs for something like this. She needed more time to think. So she cloned the program and removed the original drive.
Then she set about making an inverted program. One that wouldn’t seek out and exploit the flaws in operating systems, but one that would do something else entirely with them.
It was well after 2 A.M. when Addie was finally finished. She copied the program to a new thumb drive, marked it with a tiny red dot, and stuck it in her desk.
Exhausted, she collapsed into bed.
She was nearly asleep when the phone next to her bed buzzed. A follow-up Burnchat with the rendezvous point. She quickly read and committed the details of the plan to memory, just before the message self-destructed.
Addie’s limo rolled up to the side entrance of Cabot. Addie leaned on the door, her breath fogging the window. She wiped it away and watched her classmates milling about the entrance. She’d barely slept last night. And when she had, all she could dream of were hands. Hands grabbing her. Hands pulling her deep into a pit of darkness. When she woke up she felt like she was covered in palm prints, a million fingers pressed into her raw skin.
“You okay?” Agent Alvarez asked. “You don’t look like you’re feeling too hot.”
“Yeah,” Addie said. “I’m all right. Just a little stressed.”
“I know the feeling,” Alvarez said.
“You know what would help, though?” Addie said. “A run. A real one. I’m sick of the track. Think maybe we could do the National Mall? Reflecting pool? Something like that?” Addie held her breath.
“That’s go
nna take some time to coordinate.”
“I know,” Addie said. “I was thinking after school. Three, three thirty or so?”
The car rolled to a stop. Addie waited for Alvarez to come around to her side and let her out.
“Three, three thirty…” Alvarez said. “Sounds doable. I should be able to pull together a team by this afternoon.”
“A team?” Addie said, swallowing hard. She thought she could outrun Alvarez if necessary, but she wasn’t too sure about an entire team. “I’d rather just run with you. Those guys you work with make me self-conscious.”
“I hear you,” Alvarez said. “Don’t worry. I’ll be the one to run with you. The rest of the team will be positioned in vehicles in advance of us and behind us, okay? I’ll do my best to keep them low profile.”
“You’re the best,” Addie said.
“Yeah, yeah, flattery will get you everywhere,” Alvarez said. “Just make sure to give me a nice review on
Yelp.”
Addie laughed. She liked Alvarez. She really liked her.
Which made what Addie was about to do even harder.
It was a perfect afternoon for a run. Seventy degrees and sunny. Barely a cloud in the sky.
Addie and Alvarez jogged along the path that ran parallel to Jefferson Drive on the National Mall, the Washington Monument looming large behind them. Tourists clogged the green, flying kites, sitting on picnic blankets, and wandering from museum to monument. Nobody paid any notice to the pair of runners in their midst—one famous, one lethal. In their athletic shorts and T-shirts, MP3 players strapped to their arms, Addie and Alvarez blended right in with the rest of the joggers and cyclists circling the Mall.
Alvarez tapped Addie’s arm. Addie pulled out an earbud and listened.
“Here’s the deal,” Alvarez said. “We’re going to follow the path here all the way around. Twice is four miles. Sound good?”
“Perfect,” Addie said. She popped her earbud back in and pretended to turn on her music. Alvarez scanned the crowd for threats. Addie looked for an opening. It was already three forty-five. They’d gotten a late start. Addie would need to find an out—quickly. Timeliness was nearly as important as security to him.