Stratagem

by Christina Hagmann

  I was young at the time, and my mother was still in her early twenties. Now that I knew something about her, this ritual took on a new meaning. Rather than changing faces in the mimic sense, she changed her face using makeup. I remembered asking her to put makeup on me, and she said that I wasn’t ready yet. And then, at the age of ten, about a month before she left, she told me I would never need it. I was too beautiful for it. I didn’t understand. I looked exactly like my mother, except my skin tone was a little bit darker and my eyes were a bright shade of green. I didn’t understand why I wouldn’t need makeup because she used it and she was the most beautiful woman I knew. Now I understood. It wasn’t the makeup she was talking about. It was putting on a different face.

  Thinking it would be safer if I kept to myself, I entered the master bedroom, curled up on the bed, and stared at the ceiling, waiting for something to happen.

  A phone rang in the bedroom and startled me awake. I jumped up, embarrassed that I had fallen asleep. I knew I should be ready for anything, but I wasn’t. I picked up the phone. It was one of the staff letting me know that my husband wanted to see me in his office. I hung up, wondering if someone had walked in and seen me sleeping there and thought it odd and un-First Lady-like. Then I wondered if the President was really the President at all.

  I straightened out my clothing, realizing I probably should have changed into something more appropriate for wearing around the house. I walked out of the room, slowly making my way down the hallway, and wondered if my mother was lurking out there somewhere, ready to put a bullet in the President’s head as well as my own. Maybe Isi was out there. Maybe the President was already dead. There was no way of knowing.

  The hallway was dark, and I padded quietly, my feet making a light noise as they hit the floor. Although there was security, there was none here in the inner sanctum, only service staff, and for the first time since everything started, I felt completely alone and scared. I knew it wouldn’t end until I finished this job and stopped the nuclear meltdown, or died trying. The Agency’s job was clear, and the Opposition’s one and only mission was to stop them. Brody, Aaron, Dan, and I had all been pawns in this game, and though we liked to believe that we, or more accurately they, had some kind of power or say in what happened, any side would use us to get what they wanted.

  When I arrived at the end of the hallway, I felt a bit turned around. I had studied the maps, but everything seemed different, bigger, in real life.

  At the door stood a member of the residential staff whom I recognized from a photograph. I was sure his name was Steven Karr, but he looked a lot like another staff member, Joe Belino. Luckily, he spoke first.

  “Hello, ma’am.” He nodded curtly, then approached me. “Do you need anything?”

  “Oh, no, sorry.” I wanted to call him by name, but I knew if I made a mistake, it would be trouble. “Have you seen my husband?”

  “Sure, he’s in his office. Let me walk with you.” I tried to look at the man’s eyes, check his pupils, see if it was really a man in there or someone else, but it was too dark, and then suddenly I was following him.

  “Oh, you don’t need to,” I began.

  “I insist, ma’am.” We went a little bit further to a beautiful solid wooden door. The man opened the door for me and stepped out of the way so that I could walk in. The President was sitting at his desk, papers sprawled out in front of him.

  I couldn’t move for a minute. No matter who you are, when you see the President for the first time, it is a surreal moment. After years of seeing him on television, it was crazy to see him in real life. He didn’t look up. I turned and glanced back, and Steve/Joe/whatever his name was watched me. I stepped in. Steve/Joe stepped into the room, shut the door behind us, and faced the President.

  “Yes?” The President regarded the man. Then he saw me standing there and broke into a big, warm smile.

  “I found her wandering the house.” I gave Steve a once-over; I was sure it was Steve now. I was surprised he was in here and that he spoke to the President first. It seemed like a very disrespectful thing to say about the First Lady.

  Before I could reach for my gun, which was tucked into the inner pocket of the suit jacket, a shot went off. I looked down at myself, checking for blood. I thought the shot had come from the security guard, but when I turned towards him, I saw the red blooms blossoming on his shirt. I knew who the shot had come from.

  The President remained seated at his desk, but he held a gun that was now pointed at me. “Meda, why don’t you have a seat? No one will be coming. This room is soundproof.” I stared in disbelief, trying to catch my breath. I couldn’t help but think that I never stood a chance on either side. I thought about Brody, who would be out there somewhere waiting for me to return. It wasn’t fair to him.

  I stared, trying to see through the false skin. “Isi?” I asked. I had no way of knowing if this was the mimic my mother had trained or if it was my mother. There was no giveaway. But if this was the stone-cold killer, I didn’t understand why I was still alive. Or, maybe it was my mother, turned on Isi so that she could save me and make things right. My head spun.

  A knock sounded on the door. I jumped. “Mr. President. Is everything all right in there?”

  I turned and watched the President. He answered, voice raised and sounding presidential. “Everything is fine, Watkins. I’ll be finishing up momentarily, and I’ll check in with you before I turn in. And, Watkins, please don’t disturb us again.”

  With that, we were alone. I looked at the security guard lying on the floor and wondered who he was. Was that another mimic? Where was the real President? Were we too late?

  The President rose from his seat and walked over to me. I felt the gun, strapped beneath my clothing, pressed tightly against my body. Even now, I didn’t think I could use it. “So, tell me, how does it feel to be in the big leagues? Do you at least feel some kind of pride?” I looked at the mimic in front of me. It was a strange question. It was even odder to hear it in the President’s formal tone.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, sir.” I added the “sir” for effect.

  “Come now, Meda. You’re in the big leagues. The Opposition has finally made it, though they will never be as powerful as the Agency. They don’t have the resources. So, are you proud?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Come on.” The President gestured with his hands. “The big leagues!” he called out excitedly. “They couldn’t have done it without you. You must be proud.”

  I knew there was no point in pretending anymore. “No, I’m not proud,” I answered calmly. “In fact, I don’t even think I can do what they want me to do.” I was surprised I said it, but I figured it wouldn’t hurt to be honest. Isi prided herself on being number one, and I was perfectly fine with her taking the title, and my crazy mother, well, I wasn’t sure it mattered what I said to her.

  “And that, my dear, is why your mother was always disappointed in you. In fact, the first time I ever saw a little bit of pride in her was when she found out you escaped. At least that took some spine.” It had to be Isi. I heard the jealousy in her voice.

  Steve moaned from the floor, which jolted me because I thought he was dead. The President stood from behind his desk and turned his gun on Steve, and we both watched as Steve struggled to get to his feet. He was holding his side where he had been shot.

  “Oh dear,” the President chuckled as he watched the guard struggle. “I mean, Steve,” he said exaggeratedly.

  Steve grimaced as he propped himself on the corner of the side table that stood by the door. “How could you?” he asked the President. There was a pained, betrayed look on his face. “I mean, I knew you were deceitful, but I thought…after everything…I didn’t think you could actually do it.” He chuckled but there was no humor in his laughter.

  “Mom?” I asked, hoping I was right. Steve glared at me and shook his head slowly. Then he looked back at the President and began
to shift. I was surprised when his face began to form. It was the face of Isi. I was confused. Isi hadn’t even gone for her gun. She had done nothing to provoke an attack. I was trying to figure out what was going on when a voice spoke from behind me.

  “I guess it’s my turn,” the President said. His face began to melt, and he started to shrink down. I recognized the features instantly. Mom.

  chapter 32

  I couldn’t speak, and I couldn’t make sense of what was going on. The mission was completely forgotten.

  “Meda, honey.” My mom turned her head, looking exactly like my mother always had, but still wearing the President’s now baggy suit. There was a trace of condescension in her voice. The horrible things she said to me flashed over my brain.

  “It’s true,” Isi spoke up. “You thought I was bad, but I only learned from the best. What I can’t figure out is why she shot me.” Isi gripped her side but managed to straighten herself.

  My mom sighed, lowering the gun a few inches. “Well, it can’t hurt now.” She took a deep breath. “I’m authorized to do a clean sweep if I feel it is necessary. Sorry, Isi, but this has all been too much trouble. I hate to see you go, but you have been careless, and you haven’t gotten the job done. I saw you falter when you had the chance to stop Meda at the zoo.”

  “What about you?” Isi spit angrily. “You tried to kill her. You didn’t stop her either.”

  My mother’s jaw was set and her smile a grim line. “That wasn’t my job. That was your job. And what you need to realize is that the most important thing with these guys is doing your job. If you show momentary weakness, you’re done. I’ve told you that before. It’s too bad you didn’t listen to me.”

  “That is a load of crap,” Isi hissed at her. “You’re the one who went rogue to try to off your own daughter and then didn’t have the guts to follow through. Our job wasn’t to kill her. It was to stop her. To get her back.”

  I stared between them. I heard what my dad had said about my mother and hoped there was a trace of that woman left. She didn’t kill me at the barn. She could have. I looked at my mom. “Who are you?” I asked.

  “Meda, honey. Catch up. And wipe that face off. There isn’t time to go into all this. Let’s just say that sometimes, once you’ve been so many people, you forget who you are. It’s easier for you because you never knew who you were in the first place. Same with Isi. It turns out I am not who I thought I was, or who your father thought I was, or the mother you thought I was.”

  It finally hit me. Before, in the barn, when she was saying all of those awful things, I didn’t believe it. I thought someone was forcing her to say it. But now, stuck in this room with no contact from the outside world, I knew it was all true. I knew my mother was now what she had always been, and she had only taken a detour as a mother. And now she was wiping all traces of that detour and making a devastating decision that would put many people in harm’s way. I let myself shift back into my own form.

  “All I have to do is get rid of the two of you, help them waste the nuke plant, and then shazam, I’m on the top of the world again.”

  “What, you didn’t think you could compete with me?” Isi laughed, then clutched at her side, feeling the pain of the gunshot.

  My mother smiled, tilting her head. “Dear, the beauty of it has always been,” she took a breath, “that I don’t have to compete.” She leveled the gun on Isi and pulled the trigger. I was aware enough to pull my own gun out and point it at my mother as Isi tumbled down, grimacing and making low growling noises.

  My mother turned her gun on me, knowing that I wouldn’t be able to fire, maybe ever. We stood and faced each other, completely forgetting Isi.

  “I know you don’t want to do this. You aren’t cut out for this life.” Her tone was comforting, motherly. “Just think how much easier it would be for your father and your sisters if you were gone. No one would watch them anymore. I mean, they aren’t watching them for me.” She shook her head. “Meda, I know you wanted the dream. The family. But it isn’t in the cards for us. Look at Isi. She was abandoned. Unless we are with people of our own kind, we will never be accepted. I had the same problem. My dad was a mimic, but my bitch of a mom didn’t get it. She kicked me out of the house after I pretended to be her, but what did I know? I was a teenager. Of course, I was going to try things. That was how I ended up at the Agency. That was how I ended up with you.” She took a step closer to me. I didn’t lower the gun an inch.

  “Your real father was the only one who ever accepted me and was proud with what I was able to do. Now, it didn’t help that we were both being controlled by the Agency, and I don’t like being controlled. I was afraid that once I got pregnant, they would discard me or use me in a way that I didn’t want to be used, which is why I ran. It was only by chance that I ended up in that library in Oak Park. I was going to find some fancy ritzy place in Chicago and get a man to take care of me. But there he was, your father, who had money, a job, and wanted someone to care for. He didn’t even care that I was pregnant with another man’s baby. It was perfect.”

  “Stop it!” I yelled at her, shaking my head. I didn’t want to hear what she was saying. “You cannot possibly be that heartless. You are my mother. You raised me for ten years. You taught me how to read. You taught me how to multiply.”

  “I know,” my mother replied. “I was surprised that I was so good at that. I guess us mimics can adapt to pretty much anything.” She laughed. I gritted my teeth, trying to contain myself.

  “There is no way it was all an act.” The gun in my hand was an exclamation point following each word. I was so angry, yet I still would never be able to pull the trigger on her. I knew the only reason that she was holding off on pulling the trigger on me was because she had to be concerned with Isi as well. It was a good thing she told us her plan.

  She tilted her head quizzically for a moment. “No, you know, you’re right. At first it wasn’t an act. It was who I thought I was outside of all this. I thought I finally discovered myself. You were a well-behaved child, Meda. It wasn’t that. It wasn’t even you. It just got so…tedious, mundane. You had to know what my life was like before that. It was exciting and dangerous. And I think that I convinced myself I was happy with you and George, but he wanted children of his own. So, I decided to want that too. And then I was pregnant with twins. And while you came out this dark-haired, bright-eyed little thing, wild by nature, they came out little redheads, destined to be pale, freckled bores like their father.”

  I tried to contain my anger, but I was breathing heavily through my nostrils. She continued. “Then I got to watching you. You had picked up so many of George’s mannerisms even though he wasn’t your real father. I resented him for forcing me to have the twins and taking you away from me. I began to resent all of it. Then I took a closer look at my situation and realized I didn’t have to stay.” She smiled, gesturing openly with one hand. “So, I went back to the Agency, and they welcomed me with open arms.”

  “What about my biological father?” I asked.

  “We’re not like that anymore.” My mother smiled. “Chayton was a great deal older than me when I got pregnant.”

  “So, what does he think of me?” I didn’t want to sound needy, but I knew it came out that way. Of course I wanted to know what my father thought, and even if I hadn’t known he existed, once I came to the Agency, he surely knew who I was.

  “He doesn’t think of you. Why would he? You were raised by a librarian. Barely a mimic. You don’t have many skills.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong,” Isi suddenly spoke up between grimaces. “You know it, Ava. You know the reason the Agency would never get rid of Meda is because she was born of two mimics, the only one of us. Which means she’s more of a mimic than any of us.”

  I kept my eyes on my mother to gauge her reaction and to watch for any sign of movement, but she showed nothing. I was confused. “What does that mean?” I asked Isi, making sure I didn’t take my eyes off my mothe
r.

  My mother faked a yawn. “I’m bored with this conversation,” she said. She raised the gun again, but she had no way out. It was two against one.

  Isi continued. “It means that there are things you can do that even we can’t do. And you will learn them, eventually. First, they had to convert you. They couldn’t have you switching sides.”

  My mother suddenly turned, pointing her gun at Isi again. “Shut up!” she demanded.

  “Stop!” I yelled at her. She turned and looked at me.

  “What?” she snarled. “You wouldn’t. You couldn’t. I am your mother, and she is nothing.” She walked towards Isi and pointed her gun at Isi’s forehead. Isi stared down the barrel of the gun.

  “Oh, do it already,” Isi said. “I’m sick of your threats. Just do it.”

  My mother smiled. “Oh, honey, I will. There is nothing stopping me. Certainly Meda won’t stop me.” She looked at me out of the corner of her eye. Isi looked at me as well. “The funny thing is,” my mother continued, “you two both needed a mother so badly that it was sad.”

  Now it was Isi’s turn to look angry. She always seemed to be in control, but my mother had hit a sore spot. “Shut up. You are not my mother. You never were.” She leveled with my mom. “Did it ever occur to you that I treated you that way because I knew you were such a narcissistic, egotistical bitch? That the only way I was going to be able to work with you was to suck up to you?”

  My mother laughed. “You can stop, Isi. I know your true feelings. I saw the videos of you crying at night in your room. They were worried about your mental state. Worried you would crack. I vouched for you because I knew you were weak. That I could bend you to my will.” I watched as Isi’s tough façade crumbled. Her chin quivered. My mother grinned wickedly. “You know, at this point, it’s probably better that I end your misery.” I watched as my mother’s grip tightened on the gun. I watched as Isi steeled herself for the final blow. Then, I closed my eyes.