by A. M. Pierre
Ten minutes later, it was official. She was wide awake, and likely to remain so. She sighed. Maybe some warm milk would help.
As she plodded down the hallway, her fuzzy slippers making barely a whisper across the floor, she noticed a flickering light coming from the rec room. No noise, though. She peeked in and saw Vladimir sitting in front of the big screen with headphones on. And on the screen . . .
She doubted Vladimir heard her come in, but he must have seen her out of the corner of his eye. He desperately mashed the remote but only managed to pause the movie, so he jumped up as if he could block her view of the television with his body. “Kaia! What a pleasant surprise to be seeing you. Is there something I can help you with perhaps?”
“I’ve seen this movie. It’s one of those ‘boy meets girl and they have a misunderstanding but it all works out okay’ movies, isn’t it?”
“Ah, yes, I could not sleep and was only thing on. Is not my type of movie but what can be done?”
She saw an empty disc case on the floor. An empty disc case with a picture of a smiling couple looking lovingly at each other. She grinned. “It was the only thing on, huh?” Vladimir fell back onto the couch, and Kaia sat down next to him. “I thought you said you liked westerns.”
“Yes, but they are not my favorites.” He closed his eyes tight as if expecting a blow. “I am liking romance. Romantic comedies the most.” One eye opened slightly. “You do not think is weird?”
“I think it’s kinda cute, actually.” She frowned slightly. “But we all have TV’s in our rooms, right? If you’re embarrassed, why don’t you watch it in there?”
“Problem is Mikaël. My roommate.”
“That stinks, the guys having to share rooms while the girls don’t.”
“Oh, no, is not like that. I grew up in orphanage in Russia. Mikaël is coming from very big family. He is youngest of nine brothers and sisters.”
Kaia choked. “Nine?”
“Yes. Big family. Small house. In his house and my orphanage, there is no having of own rooms. It feels weird to both of us, so we share one big room. We are less . . .” He studied Kaia for a moment. “We are less scared that way.”
Kaia studied the screen to cover her surprise. “So, does Mikaël know you sneak out to watch stuff like this?”
“Oh yes, but he never tells anyone.”
Kaia laughed, then turned it into a cough when she realized he wasn’t making a joke. “He, uh, he doesn’t like them, then?”
Vladimir shook his head sadly. “No. I invited him once, but he complained whole time that movie was boring. Was Casablanca, for Peter’s sake! Is no way movie with Humphrey Bogart and Nazis is being called boring by anyone but Mikaël.”
“Wait. He speaks to you?” She thought back over the last few days. “That’s funny—I’ve never heard him say a word . . . Is it me?”
Vladimir put his hands up in protest. “No, no, not at all. I am sorry, Kaia. You are misunderstanding me. Mikaël was . . . in trouble for speaking up when he was younger, so he does not talk. But it does not mean he cannot speak. He has his face. His hands. He is my friend and I understand him. Is that not enough?”
She smiled. “Yeah, it is.” A thought occurred to her—a question that had been itching her brain these past few days. Now’s as good a time as any. She cleared her throat and stared down at her lap. “You know, Vladimir, with all my training and stuff, I haven’t really talked with everyone about, well, about themselves. I don’t even know what everyone’s element is.” Granted, Mikaël wouldn’t tell me even if I asked, and it’s not like Alizée is on my list of “Top 10 People I Want to Have One-on-One Conversations with.” “So, uh, what’s yours? Your element, I mean.” Kaia snuck a glance at Vladimir’s face.
His slightly panic-stricken, white-as-a-sheet face. “Kaia, I . . .”
Kaia’s hands flailed in front of her as if they could wipe the air clean of her words. “No-no-no, never mind, I’m sorry I asked, please forget I said anything, okay?”
Vladimir smiled, but his eyes looked sad. “It is not your fault, Kaia. Do not be thinking I am mad with you. Is natural question. I am just not being overly fond of my element. Sometimes people are reacting . . . poorly when I tell them. I would prefer to just say I do not have to use my ability often, and I am glad of that.”
Kaia nodded slowly. “I understand.” It’s not like I’ve never been judged for something I couldn’t control. She got up and plodded towards the kitchen again.
“You will not tell the others about my movies? I have reputation to maintain.”
“Your secret is safe with me,” she turned back with a wink, “as long as you invite me sometime.”
Vladimir smiled in return. “Is a deal. As soon as you get back, we will arrange viewing.”
Kaia suppressed a shiver. “Right. As soon as I get back.”
Vladimir walked over and placed an enormous hand on her shoulder. “Do not be worrying about mission so much. Ezio and Alizée and Dice will all work hard to keep you safe. We are wanting to make sure our new friend stays for very long time.”
Kaia’s eyes got wide, and she blinked back tears, managing a quiet “Thank you” before she headed back to her room. It looked like she wouldn’t need that milk after all.
So I’m sitting in the back of a high-tech tricked-out van on a high-tech tricked-out rotating chair, huddled in a high-tech rotating-chair circle with three other super-powered teenagers, all on our way to risk our lives to stop a group of “it’s cool to kill kids” type of terrorists, and I can’t stop thinking about how cute Ezio looks today. Jeez, I really need to—
The van lurched sideways, and Kaia grabbed onto the arms of her chair to steady herself. Dice swiveled his chair to face the front. “Hey, Mr. Brown! Would you mind not killing us before we get to the place where people want to kill us?”
Their driver shrugged. “Apologies. Someone cut me off. Crazy French drivers . . .”
“All right, back to the matter at hand.” Ezio smiled. Kaia had forgotten how nice his smile looked. “Travel time is approximately five and a half hours, putting us on site an hour before sunset, which gives us enough time to get into position and do a final survey of the location before infiltrating the main building, which is where our intelligence shows the device to be located.”
“Are we taking the device with us or ripping it apart?” Alizée’s expression said ripping it apart sounded much more appealing.
“The plan is to remove the volatile chemicals from inside the bomb for later disposal, then destroy the housing. With all the international lockdowns, it is amazing they managed to compile the necessary components even once, so a second attempt is highly unlikely. Besides, their current bomb-builder will not be available in the future.”
Kaia didn’t want to ask, but she couldn’t help herself. “Why won’t he?” she whispered.
“Because I took care of him,” Dice said with a proud smile. “It wasn’t that big a deal. I hacked his UNID card, added all the crimes we know he’s committed, and gave the authorities access to all the evidence they’ll need to make the charges stick. He left England this morning, and the cops arrested him the instant he set foot on his native soil. “
Kaia blinked. “I’m sorry, did you say you hacked his UNID card? But they’re un-hackable—”
“And un-crackable. I know the jingle. Actually, I wrote the jingle. And UNID is. Un-hackable, I mean. Just not for me.”
It still wasn’t clicking. “Why not for you?” Kaia asked.
Dice looked confused. “You know, because I made it.”
“You made his UNID card?”
“No, I made UNID.”
* * *
Daisuke wasn’t sure why Kaia looked so shocked. Hadn’t she thought about her arrest at the airport? The chain of events was fairly straightforward: (a) Customs guy swipes UNID card; (b) Cus
toms guy yells, “Eek! UNID says she’s a terrorist!”; (c) Beefy guys arrest her; and, finally, (d) Connor confesses they set her up. Conclusion? Someone in The Company hacked the UNID system to change her info. Given what Kaia had seen since she arrived, surely she should have reached conclusion #2: Daisuke hacked UNID.
He wasn’t too surprised, though. He’d seen plenty of cases where people failed to see the painfully obvious—something they’d have seen if they just stopped to think for half a second. Maybe they didn’t think it was something that could be explained at all. In that sense, it was a bit like their own elemental abilities. None of them ever really questioned (out loud, at least) where those abilities had come from. Had they been exposed to nuclear radiation as infants? Were they alien sleeper agents, planted as the vanguard of a future invasion? Or maybe . . .
Despite his love of conspiracies, it actually didn’t bother Daisuke that he didn’t have an answer. They had cool powers. They could do cool things with them. Was it really so important to know why? It’s not like it would change anything.
“Daisuke.”
Well, if they all turned out to be aliens, it would, in fact, change a whole bunch of things, but that honestly seemed the least likely explanation he’d explored. In fact—
“Daisuke!”
Daisuke blinked. “Sorry, you were saying something, weren’t you? Was it important?”
Alizée rolled her eyes. “No, not at all. Ezio was just asking what you brought along to help us stay alive when we’re dodging child-murdering terrorists with guns.”
“Do not be so hard on him,” Ezio said. “He was only daydreaming, something which I am sure—” he gave Daisuke a pointed look “—will not happen once the mission begins. Right?”
“No sir, no daydreaming.”
“See?” Ezio smiled at Alizée and took hold of one of her hands. “It will be all right. I promise. Do you believe me?”
“That it will be all right? Not really. But I do believe you would do anything not to break a promise.” She brushed her hand lightly against his cheek. “Thank you.”
Ezio turned back to Daisuke. “So, what have you brought for us today?”
* * *
Kaia felt a spark of jealousy as Alizée touched Ezio’s face. Was she flirting, or was it some French custom Kaia was unaware of? After all, she’d heard they kissed people they’d never even met before just to say hello. That’s probably all it was. With an effort, Kaia dragged her mind away from flirty French girls and tried to focus on what Dice was saying.
“Okay, we’ve got a newbie with us today, so I’m giving you guys the whole shebang. First, here’s everyone’s new UNID cards. Each one of these babies has a complete history attached—school records, texting habits, favorite animal, you name it. Of course, I made sure all the truly important info wasn’t fabricated—you know, allergies and immunizations, stuff like that.” He handed them out with a grand flourish. “My name will be Nakamura Haruto.” He smiled and paused. “Ezio, you shall henceforth be known as ‘Abbondanzio Manfredonia.’”
“. . . Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it. Kaia, you shall be ‘Kara Johnson.’” Dice looked at the last card in his hand. One eyebrow arched mischievously. “As for you, Alizée my dear, I dub thee Gertrude Edwina Ackerman.”
Alizée’s eyes blazed. “You had better hope for your sake that’s a joke.”
“Nope, and the look on your face makes it totally worth it.”
Ezio interrupted before she could reply. “Alizée, it is really not a big deal. The cards will be seen by the border officials and then stowed away unless we end up talking to the police at some point.”
Alizée crossed her arms. “Fine.”
“And Daisuke, I know this brings you great joy, but please take into consideration the feelings of your fellow operatives when you choose fake names in the future.”
“. . . I’ll think about it.”
“I suppose that is the best I can hope for.” Ezio absent-mindedly rubbed his injured leg. “Aside from the UNID cards, what did you bring for us?”
“Backpacks, of course, stuffed to the brim with everything a teenage covert operative could need. Most of these are for ‘worst case scenarios’—freeze-dried rations, a collapsible water bottle with filter, emergency sleeping bag, the works. In case you see anything you think would go good in our ‘Bad Guys of Britain’ scrapbook, I’ve also included a Swipe Card-enabled camera in each pack.”
“Swipe Card?” Kaia hated that she had to keep interrupting with questions. Ezio probably thought she was an idiot.
“Another one of my inventions. A brilliant one, if I do say so myself. It’s the next generation of mobile data storage.”
Kaia nodded as if it all made perfect sense. Not an idiot. Not an idiot.
“Swipe Cards look like boring old credit cards, but that’s just a disguise.” Dice pulled a card out of his pocket and flipped it slowly through his fingers. “Forget flash drives and USB ports. I’ll spare you the intricate—but brilliant!—details and leave it at this: it transfers massive amounts of data in the blink of an eye. Little things like a few gigs worth of pics? Cake. Once you’ve taken your pictures on my special camera, you swipe this card through the little slot on the side, and those photos instantly transfer from the camera to the card. The camera then automatically deletes the original files, and you’re left with an empty camera and a ‘credit card.’ Not only can the bad guys not access the information, they don’t even suspect it’s there in the first place. Cool, huh?”
Kaia nodded. Not an idiot.
Dice started rummaging through the backpacks again. “I’ve also included a compact but fairly comprehensive first aid kit—it even has Pepto Bismol.” He grinned at Kaia. “I’ve included it in every medpack since the Great Potty Emergency in Shanghai last year. You can ask Connor about it, but only if you don’t tell him I’m the one who told you. There’s nothing worse than untreated tummy troubles while you’re on a mission.”
“Getting shot sounds worse to me,” Alizée mumbled.
Ezio took her hand again. “I promised you it will be all right.”
Kaia tried to hide the smile that teased the corners of her mouth. Ezio was exactly what a perfect leader should be—strong, but kind and considerate to those under him.
Dice ignored them completely. “Also, a couple of last-ditch measures.” He held up a metal container that looked vaguely like a soup can with a grenade pin on top. “Knockout gas. Pull the pin and it’ll disperse in a 20-foot radius, so either throw it quickly or hold your breath while you run away.” He pulled out a plastic-y tube about nine inches long. “It’s a signal flare, sort of, with the added advantage that it won’t burn out. It’s a copper pipe, see, so if you pull off the lead-lined sheath I’ll be able to find you. Last but certainly not least, I have this!” He pulled out a small, vaguely roundish bag with something indeterminately lumpy in it. “Voila! My Cool Thing!”
Kaia, Ezio, and Alizée glanced at each other. Ezio asked first. “And what is your Cool Thing?”
“My Cool Thing is a secret. A cool secret. A secret that shall only be revealed when the time is right. I do not know if it will be today or a week or a year from now, but when its true nature is known you will all be in awe, for it is cool.”
A pause. “That sounds very . . . cool, Daisuke,” Ezio said. “Thank you for putting all of this together for us.”
“Don’t mention it. Oh, yeah, I almost forgot.” Dice pulled a small jewelry box out of his pocket. “For you, my lady.”
Inside was a small piece of plastic no bigger than the tip of her little finger. Kaia stared at it for a long moment before she got up the courage to admit—“I’m sorry, but I don’t know what this is.”
Ezio picked it up out of the box Daisuke was holding and leaned over towards Kaia with a smile. She tried not to blush as he got neare
r. He gently tucked her hair behind her ear. She fought the immediate instinct to pull it back into place.
Ezio slid the small piece of plastic into her ear. “This makes it official.” Kaia could barely hear him over her pulse pounding in her head. “Our earpieces are what connect all of us. If you ever need help, your friends are only a touch away.” He lightly tapped her ear to illustrate his point before leaning back into his own chair. “Now we have heard the basic outline of our plan, but I would like to add some specifics. To begin . . .”
Kaia tried to pay attention. Really, she did. Ezio was talking about floor plans and guards and flanking maneuvers, but she couldn’t focus. Try as she might, her thoughts kept coming back to Ezio’s hand brushing her face, and how her cheeks and her ears felt like they were on fire.
A heavy thump jolted Kaia awake. Wh-What? Where am I? Kaia rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. Oh, right. Still riding in the van. Kaia glanced around to see Daisuke and Alizée asleep . . . and Ezio hunched over some detailed schematic. Come on. This is your chance—your one-on-one opportunity. Open your mouth and say something funny and profound and cool and amazing. And . . . nothing. I’ve got nothing. Great. At least her clothes weren’t adding to her discomfort—the dark blue cargo pants and hoodie were loose and covering—but the mental paralysis was uncomfortable enough. Her hand reached up to rub her pendant and came away empty. The momentary panic faded as she remembered the reason why: no personal effects allowed on missions. Finally, a potential icebreaker that wasn’t completely gibberish popped in her head, and she grabbed onto it like a life preserver. “Hey, Ezio.”
“Hmm?”
“Are you, uh, nervous?”
He straightened and swiveled in his chair to face her. “A bit, I suppose. The unknown is always scary, whether it is good or bad. And I think large men with guns can safely be considered to be on the bad side.”
