They pulled up to the red brick building of the Aleem Center. Jason looked around, making sure there was no one near them. You couldn't be too careful. Especially after Ali's threat.
He kissed Connie, adoring her beauty in the sunset light. It might make it harder to focus, but it was worth it to be by her side again, for as many moments as he possibly could.
Inside, they were ushered into the west wing to several conference rooms the NSA had taken over. Robin Sheridan met him with a firm handshake. When he shook Connie's hand, he said, "It's good to finally meet you. I've heard a lot about you over the years."
"Really?" She looked surprised.
Robin smiled. "I knew he loved you before he did."
"We did some missions together," said Jason. "Back in the day. He rose to management, and I—got out."
"I don't blame you. It's hard to start a family in the NSA." He sighed, slid his hand through his reddish-brown hair. "Despite the fact you're not an agent anymore, you've done a lot. Looks like we got a breakthrough, thanks to you."
"It was just a hunch that helped me find them."
"Well, as you know, hunches can go a long way in the Agency. Follow your intuition—which is enhanced by training—and with the proper methodology, it can yield fantastic results."
"Have they said anything?"
"Not much. But we're piecing together hints between each of them. It's only a matter of time before it becomes something actionable. So far, what it looks like—which makes sense considering how hard it is to get to them—is that there is no headquarters. Perhaps a central cell, but they're so secure no one but the closest knows where it is. We think Samar might know. She seems to be on a higher level than Ali. A sort of chameleon, who can move from one milieu to the other with ease. Not just an enforcer or courier but someone who knows several dimensions of the operation. But she's not talking. Just—gloating and prodding. I have a feeling it'll take a long time to break her, so we'll have to put maximum pressure on her."
"Maximum pressure?" Mild alarm squirmed through him, but not to the usual level when torture was implied. After what she'd done to Saul…. he didn't have much empathy for her.
"We're professionals. The best methods aren't physical but psychological. Finding external pressure points from her life. It's hard finding many personal facts about her, since she's lived a double life so long, but we'll get there. The problem is…" He rubbed his chin, which had a days' growth of a beard. "We kind of have to take turns. And the Muldavians… they're professionals too, but not on our level. We have to let them have their time with her. They might mess up any carefully built strategy…. Of course, we can weave them into our strategy. I'd say the other problem is that it's personal to the Muldavians, but…it's personal to us too. We lost a good man out there."
"Novak."
Robin nodded. "I didn't know him well, but he was a good agent. Embedded deeply in an op in Slovakia… we'll have to find someone to replace him there. But first things first. He'll have posthumous honors—" He shook his head. "I had to bring the news to his wife. She's devastated. The life was hard on them, but each crack built back together made them stronger. Such a waste." His eyes grew hard with inner fire. "Yavesh was barely on our radar before…but now. We have to bring them down. They flaunt their 'superiority' –" He set his jaw. "It's hard to stay objective. Not go in there and tear them apart. I just have to keep in mind that it'll be better in the long run to be judicious. At least we have them. Thanks to you and Tasha."
"How is she?"
"She just came out of the coma. I'd like to go see her—I probably will after this. The things she's been through in the past few days…." His eyes flickered with sorrow. "She'll probably be able to provide more intel when she's feeling up to it. Perhaps some crucial pieces, because she was on the inside. Though she was incapacitated for much of it. Then there's Saul—we thought we'd let him have some rest first, since he's in about as bad of shape. So I thought I'd start with you." He gestured to the table and Jason sat down in a chair, Connie beside him nearest the window. Robin sat across from him and leaned his arms on the table.
"One of the pieces we're eager to put together is what exactly happened with Gray. The asset we've been pouring resources into for quite some time. Did he take his chance and escape? Or was he kidnapped?"
"The…latter," he said.
"How did this happen?"
Jason recounted the events. He had to gloss over some parts because they sliced too deeply into his soul. He gave what was relevant, the barest facts, trying to keep his voice even.
He must have revealed some distress because Connie grasped his hand beneath the table. Of course, she knew him better than anyone else. Perhaps Robin didn't pick up on it.
You couldn't help but be affected by such a thing and Robin would know that, but Jason didn't want to betray his weakness, or his guilt.
Robin's brow furrowed. "So…. Let's see." He tapped his pen on the table. "Gray left with the agents willingly. He wasn't kidnapped."
"There was an overwhelming force. He couldn't exactly resist."
"He could have left before they arrived. He seemed to wait for them."
"That's because—" He glanced at Connie, who gave him a reassuring look. "Ali asked for…someone to exchange for Tasha and Saul."
"Why would he do that?"
"I don't know. I don't know why…Gray would be more valuable to them."
"Perhaps because of what he is. How elite of an agent he's been."
"He's kind of…been incapacitated."
"But we've been building him back up. We wouldn't spend so much time and resources on him if we didn't see him as worth the effort. Even with how he's been… he still has that potential."
"Maybe that's what they saw," said Jason. Though what they saw in me…. Especially with how easily Ali was able to subdue me…. "After the shootout, though— it was hard for him. Without Tasha."
"Ideally, she would have mentored him for some time…. It was true he probably shouldn't have been in the field yet. Still…. Perhaps this solves a problem."
"What do you mean?"
"If he wasn't up to the task…. And considering the kind of trouble he's been—perhaps he's more trouble than he's worth."
Jason's heart fell. To see Gray just as an asset….
Good thing I'm out of the Agency or I would be a liability as well….
"He did have strength," said Jason, trying to keep his voice calm. "To exchange himself—to sacrifice himself for her—"
"It's true I never would have expected that of him. Even with how close a bond he and Tasha seemed to have developed. But perhaps he saw it as an opportunity to escape our control."
Somehow, Jason hadn't considered that. It was true Jason hadn't heard what exactly Ali had offered. But Gray hadn't looked particularly eager to leave. Just—determined. "They…" Jason hadn't wanted to reveal this, but didn't want Ali to think badly of Gray. "Ali…he… acted like he wanted a slave. Well—it wasn't really clear what he wanted. But his first offer was just to take me. Against my will."
Robin's eyes sparked. "So—he offered the deal to you as well."
"I…couldn't."
"I don't blame you. If it was the same with Gray—going into torture…." Wonder stirred in his eyes. "If they'd condition him into an agent for their cause—which makes sense that he wouldn't be a common slave, because that wouldn't be worth two high-value agents—then we either need to find him and get him out before they turn him, or kill him."
"After what he's done for us, what he's gone through—"
"He would, I think, embrace death rather than experience more degradation. As most of us probably would in the same situation." Robin's eyes gleamed over grim shadows.
If there was no way out…. If they were breaking me, making me into something I didn't want to be…
"You'll try to get him out first?"
"Of course. We may not even find him. But we'd better find him, at least before they turn him into an asset. If that's possible. He may simply shatter. Their gamble may not pay off."
Robin looked more hopeful about that than Jason was comfortable with.
He continued the interview, and Jason filled him in as well as he could, though he tried to skim over the parts that he didn't want to think about.
Afterwards, Robin asked if he wanted to see the fruits of his efforts. He assured Jason the Yavesh agents wouldn't see him beyond the one-way window.
Jason thought about turning him down, but he did want closure.
Wanted to see the people in a cage who had caused such devastation and pain.
He had second thoughts, though, as he headed into the basement to the interrogation rooms. The only thing that kept him going was Connie's hand in his.
He recalled she hadn't been here yet, so as he walked to the area at the bottom of the stairway, he explained what had happened the first time he'd been here and showed her the bullet holes in the wall.
She shivered. He held her close to ward off the evil that breathed through this place.
"Quite the history here," said Robin. "You can almost hear the echoes of screams… I suppose that's intentional. Not just for a reminder, but to intimidate subjects."
They headed deeper into the basement; Jason had to fight the oppressive feeling weighing down his heart.
Last time he'd been here, he'd lashed out in anger—
He'd vowed never to do it again, then he'd done it to Ali.
They had both deserved it, but that was beside the point.
Robin led them to the first interrogation room. To Jason's surprise, inside were several others—Markov and Amber, along with a man and woman Jason didn't know. They were watching Leila, who was standing with her hand on the back of the empty chair. Samar was shackled to the other chair, a smirk plastered on her face. Her long blond hair was somewhat disheveled, one strand of it falling over her forehead, and she wore the gray clothes of a prisoner, but her eyes were defiant, even amused. She looked calm and composed, which contrasted with Leila, who looked rather flustered and tense, the muscles in her forearm standing out above the hand that gripped the chair. One strand of dark hair fell in front of her face. She was looking away from Samar, but then she looked back, her eyes fierce.
"Tell me where your leader is."
Samar just laughed, her head tilted slightly.
"Hey," said Markov as they took their place beside him in front of the window.
"Hi!" said Amber.
"How's it going?" said Jason.
"It's…going," said Markov. "I think Leila's a bit too close to this. She'll be compromised if she doesn't step out and get some air in a moment."
Amber looked at Markov pointedly.
"I know," said Markov. "I paid for my mistake. I can hardly be blamed for it. Considering. And what Saul just escaped…. What would have happened…" A shadow darkened his eyes; he looked down and rubbed the wooden windowsill absently.
"I don't think I could be objective either," said Amber. "I'm not even going to try my hand at this." She shook her head. "She's having fun. As if she's glad she's here—just to taunt us." She looked back through the window.
"Who is your leader?" said Leila.
Samar crossed her arms, the chains jingling. "As if I'd tell you that."
Leila leaned over the table, resting her fist on its metal surface. "We have you. It's only a matter of time before we have the others. You're just making it harder on yourself."
"This is hard?" She laughed, the sound ringing through the small room. "You have no idea what hard interrogation is. It's a privilege to represent the organization you call Yavesh. It's amusing to watch you all running around trying to patch up the damage."
"The interrogation hasn't started. We can put a lot more pressure on you."
"You mean torture?"
Leila shook her head. "We're not barbarians like you are. There are more effective ways."
"Like psychological methods? You're clueless there, too. Torture would probably be more effective than the weak haphazard tactics your people come up with. You think you're professionals – you're juveniles when it comes to manipulation. Because you won't go certain places, whereas we have no limits. We use the entire toolbox, and thus we can be more creative, picking and choosing as we go, tailoring to the specific target and situation. Often a mixture will work best—psychological, physical, chemical. Some of the physical ways you would never dream up, because you have to at least present an image of respectability, even if there's a monster raging inside. Our 'barbaric' ways are an advantage. Everything's on the table. I not only know ways of interrogation you could never imagine, I know how to resist it, as all high-level agents are trained to endure anything."
"How high of a level are you?"
"High enough to have met the master personally. I'm quite the catch—you've done a good job." She smirked. "But it won't do you any good. I won't give away anything crucial, even if you come undone—like you're threatening to do—and lash out at me."
"I'm the one in control."
"Are you so sure? Look at your hands. Do you know they're shaking? Do you know why?"
"It doesn't matter. You're the one that has to worry about your position."
"I don't think so. For one thing, I won't reveal anything. For another thing… I'm not staying here for long."
"You're not getting out."
"Maybe, maybe not. Depends on how expendable they decide I am. In any case, I get to entertain myself watching you run in circles."
Leila sat down, leaned her arms on the table, and clasped her hands. "What's your specific role in the organization."
"Kind of a go-between, interstitial agent."
"Like Ali."
"I suppose you could say that. We're both different aspects of a similar role. The outward facing agents. The ones who are moving and shaking, making things happen, free and flexible but with an overall mandate, up to us how we fulfill it. Personally, I like to think I'm more essential than Ali. Probably more valuable—stronger and more reliable, with more expertise. He's a bit of a maverick, doesn't always fit with our overall image. Sometimes I wonder why we keep him. He nearly made some unforgivable blunders. My image has been smooth and flawless."
"Until now."
"Yes, well, I would have succeeded if not for a fluke. I never would have been found if not for a certain agent."
She looked toward the window, her eyes striking Jason's.
How could she know he was here? How could she even know he was the agent? She'd been arrested right after his meeting with Ali… she might know of his role since the auction … but that still didn't explain how she knew he'd been involved most recently.
Connie nudged his arm; he looked at her. She met his eyes with concern and reassurance. Kissed his cheek. His skin tingled at her touch, dulling the alarm from Samar's glance.
Samar was looking at Leila as if nothing had happened. Perhaps Jason had imagined it.
"Who are your contacts in Yavesh?" said Leila.
"You don't really think I'd tell you something so crucial with so little pressure, do you? You're going to have to kick it up a notch. Of course, I'm not revealing anything I don't willingly give, and I'll never betray the One."
"Who is this One?"
Samar shrugged. "Maybe it's many. Maybe it's an AI. Maybe there is no such thing, and we're leading you on. You'll never find out. You'll never find our central self or what we truly are."
"We found you already. You're not invincible."
"We're so far beyond you you might as well be infants."
"That's just your arrogance talking."
"It's pride in truth-our virtual flawlessness. We're the most powerful thing on earth. A collective working for one purpose. Not the inefficient, ineffective things your agencies are."
"What purpose are you working toward."
Jason had thought it was just to earn money—which still might be the case. But what if there was more?
"That's the prerogative of a select few. Even I don't know the details. Only the One knows all."
"That sounds close to blasphemy."
Samar's eyes glittered. "We are godlike. God either approves of what we do, doesn't exist, or is less powerful than we are."
"God will bring your downfall."
"He hasn't yet. Hasn't done much of anything to hinder us. If he's relying on his agents on earth—he's going to be disappointed. Your paltry agencies won't make a dent."
"We already have. You certainly aren't perfect—we've taken you in, along with others who seem pretty high level. It's only a matter of time before we devastate the rest of you."
"At what cost? Look what it's already cost you. How many agents."
"We've learned from our mistakes. Learned not to underestimate you."
"You're still underestimating us. That suits us." Samar traced swirls on the table, the fluorescent lights shining on her handcuffs. Then she looked up at Leila, her head tilted. "What will it cost you personally? Are you prepared to take that risk? Look what it's already cost you. What I took from you."
Leila's jaw tensed. "He's safe now."
"Are you so sure about that? There are worse things we can do to him. To your family."
"You can't do anything to them in here."
"There are others… and perhaps I'll escape. I'd love to pick up where I left off. It was tragic I was interrupted. How is he, by the way?"
"Being cared for. Contrary to your best attempts to end his life."
Samar's eyebrow raised. "You think I wanted to kill him? I admit, some did go a bit overboard, but I wasn't going to let him be damaged beyond repair. I could still tell the defiance etched into his muscles, though he could barely move. And how he fought! I had to stick two knives into him to settle him down."
"Don't talk about him."
"Why not? He's something we both share. We both appreciate his beauty. We've both touched him intimately."
"What." Horror flashed through Leila's eyes.
"Oh, didn't he tell you? I suppose he might be…hesitant to tell you everything. Christians are so limited—they freak out at anything out of the ordinary." She laughed raucously.
"You hurt him." Her voice trembled.
"Mostly, I guided the party. But I was looking forward to taking my…exclusive turn after. Then you interrupted me—took away that chance, though it may come again. At least I get to savor the memory of lovingly tracing him with the knife. My design was a masterpiece, I must say. Now I own part of him you don't—I'll always be branded on his mind, burning into him deeper than you ever have—in fact I could give him a lot more than you, and would have if he hadn't been taken—"
Leila leaped from her chair, yanked Samar's hair back. "Don't you ever say his name again."
"I haven't even said his name yet! But I will now. Saul… Saul… Saul…" She licked her lips, gazing pointedly at Leila.
Leila's fist twisted tighter in Samar's hair; she winced in pain but didn't stop smirking. "I hit a nerve, haven't I. His skin will always be scarred with me. I will take him again, and I'll wrest his love from you, wreck it, and he'll worship me, even as I take him apart—"
Leila's fist flashed across Samar's cheek. She stood back, eyes blazing with hatred and anger, strands of hair framing her face. Samar grinned, blood leaking over her lower lip, spilling onto the table. She leaned back and laughed.
Leila looked like she might launch herself at Samar, but instead she whirled and marched out of the room.
The door whipped open, and Leila collapsed onto the dark couch in the back of the observation room, flung her head into her hands, her hair shading her face. "I'm sorry. I couldn't…."
"No one could blame you," said Markov, an undertone of rage graveling his voice, overlaid with empathy.
"I thought I could be objective… I… knew she was the one who had hurt him, but I… didn't know how much…. I didn't know she knew I'm his… that she'd strike personally…"
"That's what they do."
She leaned back, though she met no one's eyes. "I better not go back in…."
"We have plenty of people who can deal with her that aren't so close to this," said Robin. "Best you stay in the background."
"I…I've never felt such hatred… I want to go back in there and. Make her think I'll kill her. What she said…" She shook her head. Then looked hesitantly at each of them. "I wish you hadn't heard that. To know what she did to him…. It's not something anyone should know." Horror wracked her face, her eyes glistening. "I don't want to know. But…now that I do… I can help him… I need to get back to him. Since I can't really help here. I'll have to be part of another aspect."
"After we get some actionable intel," said Robin.
"As long as it's not Samar—I think I can keep control." A troubled look crossed her eyes. She stood. "Excuse me." She headed out the door.
"Well," said Robin, hands on his hips. "I suppose it's my turn. Salvage this…"
A jangle from the interrogation room. Samar stood and stepped to the end of her tether. Pulled on it, the chains clanging. Her striking blue eyes stabbed through the window. She waved. "Hey. I know he's here. He's the only one I'll talk to now."
"Who?" said Robin over the intercom.
"Jason, of course."
"He isn't one of ours."
"You owe me for what just happened."
"We owe you nothing. You deserve much worse."
She smiled. "So you do condone torture."
"I'd hardly call that torture. You sound more spoiled than you implied."
"On the contrary. I'm just seeing things from your perspective—and how inconsistent your morality is. We have no contradictions."
"No, you're just pure evil."
She pressed her hand over her heart. "You wound me, Robin."
"Will you actually tell him anything, or is it just a game."
"Send him in and find out. Who knows, maybe you'll glean something. Otherwise, I'm not saying anything. At all." She jangled back over to her chair and sat down. Crossed her arms.
Robin shook his head. "I'm not letting her call the shots. On the other hand… if you'd be up for it… perhaps she'd give you something she wouldn't to us. Simply because each person will bring out a different aspect."
"I'm…not sure," said Jason.
"Think about it. No pressure. In the meantime, we'll test her bluff."
The male agent Jason didn't know stepped into the room. He asked her questions, but Samar just looked up at him with an amused expression.
"How did she know I was in here?" asked Jason.
"Beats me," said Robin. "Sometimes I think they have ESP. The alternative is almost as frightening—they have eyes a lot more places than we thought. And they're almost as intricate and powerful as Samar implied."
The female agent took her turn, but she fared just as well. Finally, Robin entered the room. He didn't go for the direct approach but instead took an ice pack and handed it to Samar to lay on her mouth and cheek and gave her some pain meds. Samar looked grateful, then started skimming her eyes over him suggestively. It didn't rattle Robin. He simply stared back, strode around the room, giving Samar a similar silent treatment. Finally, he stood in front of her, arms crossed, looking imposing. Samar tilted her chin and raised her eyebrow, daring him to do something. Robin just chuckled silently and strode out of the room.
"Maybe I can crack her," said Markov.
"We might set some of you loose on her later," said Robin.
"I didn't mean—"
"Perhaps something similar to extradition. Perhaps a third party, if you're done with those tactics. We've got a lot more we can work with before we resort to extreme measures." He looked at Jason. "I don't want to use you as a pawn, and if you're not comfortable with it, of course you can say no. But since you're here…"
It was disturbing to think about, but he thought he could keep control this time.
At least she was bound.
Although… it was an interrogation room. A small space.
Connie's here. She'll keep you grounded.
This is something I can do that doesn't involve any real risk…
Though his skin crawled when he thought of how Samar had looked at him through the glass.
She can't wound me physically! How dangerous can she be?
He kissed Connie's cheek; she grasped his hand, kissed him on the lips, knowing what would bolster him. Flames raced through his veins; evil couldn't touch him with her beauty and light flowing through him.
He stepped into the room.
"Aw, that was nice of you." Samar looked past him to the mirror, which reflected Jason standing and Samar sitting on the edge of the table. She swung her legs, kicking her chair lightly, grasping the table with both hands. The chains made a discordant music. She swept her hair back and looked at Jason, her eyes flicking up and down. "It is nice to see you again. You of course saw me on the hill, but I didn't see you, though I felt your effects." She smiled. "Since last time we were in the same room, it's been a bit of a reversal. I was at the top of my game, you were…a bit incapacitated. Although…you've got a few more marks now, haven't you." She narrowed her eyes, examining each visible injury.
His wounds twisted but he suppressed the feeling and stepped over to the table. "You're the one trapped, so you're the one who has to answer questions."
"I don't have to do anything. I can sit here and stare at the walls for days without psychological damage. But it was nice of them to bring me some mental stimulation."
"That's not what I'm here for."
"If you say so."
"You said you'd give information."
"I said I'd talk. I'm talking, aren't I?"
"Stop the games."
"I love games. If I didn't play them, I'd be bored. That's how I survive. But I'll humor you. What would you like to know?"
Jason thought for a moment. What would be something valuable that wouldn't be unreasonable for Samar to tell. Or…manipulating her into letting something slip. Aside from the fact Jason wasn't good at that, he doubted Samar would give something up easily. It was best to just keep her talking and let the professionals sort out the data.
He sat down, subtly inviting Samar to do the same. Her back was to him from her seat on the table. But then she turned around and knelt, looking down at him expectantly. She swept a strand of blond hair back. Her mouth and chin were reddened from the blood which had mostly been wiped off. Her cheek was slightly swollen, a profusion of blush on one cheek. Her eyes were vibrant blue crystals, disturbingly clear.
"Could you tell me more about your overall purpose?" Jason asked.
She smiled. "I thought you might ask that. Something I might be inclined to hint, and not something so specific it would be unlikely I'd reveal it easily. I don't know elements of our central purpose, but I do know our general mission statement. I'm not about to reveal that either, but maybe I'll share something with you." She slid along the table toward him; the chains yanked her into place before she could go any further. She frowned, tugging her leg as if testing the strength of her bonds. "Our purpose is to avoid rules and norms, escaping laws that make us inefficient. So we work underground, creating an autonomous parallel world where the normal rules don't apply. We kept ourselves secret until we were ready to reveal some of ourselves, long enough to become so powerful we're beyond anyone's efforts to crush us. We're so adaptable that if you crush several of our cells, even all of them, we'd arise from the ashes, multiplying like a virus over the earth."
"So your purpose is to gain power."
"You could say that."
"Does your power have a purpose."
She shrugged. "To exist. To be as perfect a version of ourselves as we can be. Isn't that everyone's goal? Are we so different from you?"
"The purpose of your existence is to hurt people. We're exact opposites."
"Everything will be Yavesh, in the end. Even you." The certainty in her eyes gave him chills.
But most likely she was just trying to inflate Yavesh's power in order to intimidate them.
"I'll always fight what you are."
She chuckled. "Are you so sure? We've already pushed you to your limits."
"What do you mean."
"What Ali did. You weren't even close to defeating him. It's probably best we didn't take you as an agent. Real agent material wouldn't have let a few injuries, some mild PTSD, keep him from fighting. It's up in the air whether Gray will be any better, but…under his layers of scars, he has more promise. You— you're only good for one thing." Her eyes scanned him appreciatively.
"How did you know what happened with Ali."
"That's simple. We have protocols in such situations. Communication in an emergency." She sat down in her chair, leaned her arms on the table.
"Who's your direct superior?"
"I'm not going to answer those types of questions. I'm getting bored of this anyway. Why don't we pass the time in a more…pleasant way? I have a few ideas… If you'd just untie me."
"None of that has the slightest temptation."
"It is remarkably freeing to have no moral limits. You should try it sometime."
"Morality is there not just to protect others, but protect ourselves. Our souls are damaged by the kinds of things you do."
She patted her chest. "Deliciously dark. The way I like it." She licked her lips. "If not for these handcuffs, I'd do to you what I did to Saul. Carve into you—brand you with my own monogram. Then bind you, admire you for a while…. then… taste everything you have to offer—"
"Enough!" He hated her insinuations, even worse that Connie could hear them. He wasn't getting anywhere anyway. He strode toward the door.
"Don't go!" Samar's voice was mock-plaintive. "I have something to tell you."
He looked at her. "Is it actually something or—"
"Since the beginning we've tracked you. Since the beginning we've known. It's all been a game!" She laughed uproariously.
He took a step toward her as her laughter filled the room, churned through him, vibrating in his jaw and teeth.
"There's nothing we don't know. Nowhere we don't see. None of you can make any moves without us knowing all of it!" Tears of mirth streamed down her face.
"That's not possible."
"Ask me something. See if I know the details."
"Where did we go on Saturday morning."
"First you went to the hospital. Then you went to Zelise. Got caught by Karl. Ali took you to see me. It was a privilege to meet you for the first time after all I heard about you."
Could it all have been a game or had she learned this afterwards. How early did their knowledge go?
"What did we do the first night after we got here?"
"You went to the Centennial. Or did you mean the night you arrived? Not much, but it was a nice preliminary. The best was that day you went on the adventure down the hill to the meadow—"
His heart plummeted. "You can't possibly—"
"Amazing network of hackers and spies."
"Why…"
"All the games? Pretending like we didn't see you for what you were? Besides the fact it was immensely diverting, we wanted to test you. See if you were agent material. Ali wanted to give you a choice to come willingly. An agent has that option. Sometimes. But a slave… he has no choice. We still do think you have something to offer in that direction. You might fetch a brilliant price. If no one buys you, I'll take you. It's only a matter of time." She shifted to face him, chains jingling. "We're coming for you. If anyone else gets in the way, they're fair game. You don't mess with us and get away with it. Even if you have no possibility of making any kind of headway. It's the principle of the thing. You put a target on your back as soon as you set foot in this country and set on a path of tracking us. But we were lightyears ahead of you. Everyone who sets themselves against us gets taken down. Look at your ragtag band. How cut up and demoralized it is. You think the NSA will fare any better?" She glanced at the mirror. "We are more than your equal! You'll be gutted! Every cell of you will vaporize!" She laughed, the maniacal sound ringing in his ears.
He stepped out of the room, not caring if she thought he was leaving because she was affecting him. Her laughter cut off as soon as he shut the door.
Connie embraced him when he got back to the observation room. Her cheek pressed to his, clearing away the filth clinging to him from the 'interrogation'.
Samar was staring through the window as if she could see them, smiling eerily, her eyes piercing, one hand on her hip. A strand of hair straggled over her face to spill past her wounded cheek.
Jason turned away from her, not wanting to give her any more attention. Even though she couldn't possibly sense what he was doing. He took Connie's hand, taking solace in her presence.
"I don't think she knows nearly as much as she's saying," said Robin, regarding Samar without a hint of discomfiture. "She's playing a game, as she said. She just wants to make us second-guess ourselves. But she won't succeed."
"How does she know all of that?"
"Retrospectively, most likely. They looked back at what you've been doing—that wouldn't be hard to track."
"What about…" said Connie, looking at Jason with alarm. "The…glade. Not even cameras there! Unless…"
"You might have said something through text or phone. I hate to say this, but they may be spying on your devices."
"We thought we were safe in the palace," said Jason. "But…we should have been more careful about our phones."
"I recommend getting a new phone just in case, and another phone for secure communications."
"I'd better do that." It was disturbing to know he'd been spied on. He hadn't thought of Yavesh as that far-reaching…. Hadn't even thought they knew he was investigating. But they must have caught on at some point. Ali might have been playing games for some time…
He'd book their flight as soon as they got back to the palace. Go home and put all this behind them.
They headed to the hospital to see Tasha. It was dark by then, just a rim of pale orange on the horizon.
Tasha smiled when they came in, though dark circles haunted her eyes, and she was deathly pale, enhanced by the dark hair framing her face. Jason drew up a chair close to her. Connie sat down in the chair beside him.
"How are you feeling?" said Jason.
"Just tired…" she replied. "I'm not complaining. Not after…." Her brow creased and she winced as if experiencing a painful memory.
"You're safe now."
She nodded. "If only I hadn't been shot. I could've done something. I could've saved him."
A barb pierced Jason's heart. He should have done more… "I'm sorry. I should have kept him from leaving with them. I should've…."
"He left with them willingly?"
"He chose to. You couldn't have done anything."
"I could've kept it from getting to this point in the first place. I can't believe he would give up… after all we went through…."
"He did it to save you."
"That's why we're safe?"
Jason nodded.
"He did the right thing, in the end…." Her voice caught. "I knew it wasn't all in vain… But now…he's lost…. We've lost our chance…. He could've been a great agent for our side. He couldn't accept it himself, but he was becoming an agent we could be proud of. Even if the Agency couldn't see it. In the end, he showed who he was. Too late…"
"Maybe…if we take Yavesh down…"
"There's that chance… but it's a monster that's grown to impossible proportions…. We saw only the barest hint of its mass. It's beyond anything we've encountered. I could sense what it was. Even past the veil it's pulled over itself…. I still fell into its trap and took him with me…and he's the one who suffers for it… even with how much progress he made, I never foresaw this. Giving his life for mine. More than his life. I… felt a semblance of it when I was in Iran. But compared to what he's been through… what they were insinuating they would do to me…. it's a debt I'll always owe him. I'm not going to abandon him. I've vowed to protect him… I'm not breaking that vow. Even if it takes my life, even if I have to…leave the NSA, I'm going to find him. As soon as I get better, I'll look for him." She grasped Jason's hand; hers felt startlingly frail. Her eyes pleaded. "Will you help me?"
Jason nodded. He owed Gray that at least. But he wasn't going beyond the limits he was bound by. He could only do so much. He could help but not lead the charge.
She lay back, looking content. "At least I know Muldavia. I'll attach myself to Robin's contingent and stay here as long as it takes." She looked out the window, her eyes straying, as if she could seek out where Gray had gone. "When he's back, he'll have more than earned his freedom. He should never have been our slave in the first place…."
After a few more minutes, they said goodbye, left Tasha to rest, and strode out into the drizzling darkness.
Back at the palace, Marija met him at the door, looking distraught.
"What's wrong?" His heart lurched, thinking she might've seen the video of Luna, or found something worse had happened to her daughter.
"It's James!"
"Is he alright?"
"He's gone!"