Methodically, I began to google the names on the list, starting with the security engineers, as I assumed he would have had the closest contact with them. I created a folder and began compiling dossiers on each person. Nothing seemed unusual about any of them until I came to an engineer named Joseph Lando. He’d died in a freak boating accident about two weeks before my father disappeared.
I typed in his name and pulled up an article with a photograph from a newspaper. The article was about his funeral, which had taken place at a local church and been attended by sixty-two people. The eulogy had been given by a man named Isaac Remington. Joseph Lando had been thirty-six years old. There was no other information about the accident, other than it had happened on the lake near his house. He was survived by his mother, Sally Lando, his brother, James Lando, and his wife, Maria. Apparently, Maria and Joseph had no children.
The photograph accompanying the article featured a group of men carrying a coffin. The caption underneath the photo only named the first two men in line, Misha Peterson and Isaac Remington, the man who had delivered the eulogy. I enlarged the photo, and my breath caught in my throat. The second man behind Isaac Remington was my father. I’d seen enough photographs of him to recognize his face. So, my dad had known Joseph Lando well enough to attend his funeral as a pallbearer.
I quickly cross-referenced the names Misha Peterson and Isaac Remington with my list of employees at King’s Security. Only Remington came up as having been an employee of King’s Security. He had been Joseph Lando’s and my father’s boss. I did one more search that took me nearly an hour, but I discovered Lando’s wife was still alive.
I didn’t know what she could possibly tell me after all this time, but I planned to give her a call next Saturday. I’d take any scrap of information about my father that I could get.
Wally and Frankie sat in the seat behind me on the bus and chatted all the way home about the movie. Mike sat next to me even though there were several empty seats.
“So, Angel, you up for gaming after dinner?” he asked.
“What game did you have in mind?”
“Quaver Legend. You know it?”
“Of course I know it. I’ve made it to level seven already.”
He whistled. “Level seven? I’m at level five.”
“Noteworthy,” I said. Quaver was hard, so to be at level five was decent. “Anyone else in?”
“So far, you, me, and Jax. Does Frankie play? Hoping to pull in at least Wally for one more.”
“Wally will play,” I confirmed. I would have interrupted him to ask for certain, but Frankie was in the middle of explaining an important part of the movie to him. “I think he’s a level six in Quaver. Frankie isn’t into gaming, but you can invite her anyway. Personally, I could use a little stress relief. It’s a great idea, Mike.”
It turned out that only Wally, Mike, Jax, and I wanted to play. Bo wanted to head to the gym, and none of the other girls were interested in playing. So the four of us headed to the gaming room to get started.
Jax was a so-so player, so it was really a battle between Wally, Mike, and me. Mike and I fought tooth and nail, but Wally edged both of us out to win, using some unconventional moves that left the rest of us in the dust.
“Dang, I’m impressed,” Mike said, setting down the controller. “Wally, dude, you can game. All of you have wicked skill. I didn’t expect that level of expertise.”
Jax tossed his controller on the coffee table. “I was clearly out of my league on this one.”
I stretched my arms over my head. Gaming with these guys had felt good. It was strange, but I’d become comfortable in their company. Their appreciation for my skill and smarts was real. I appreciated it, although I didn’t need it. Perhaps that was part of the UTOP strategy—creating grounds for accepting and respecting the strengths and weaknesses of others.
In fact, the more I got to know my fellow candidates at UTOP, the more I liked them—minus Kira, of course. For a loner like me, that was a huge and startling personal development.
I wasn’t sure what to think of it.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
ANGEL SINCLAIR
“The next series of questions will be true or false, Angel. I want you to answer as quickly as possible, within a two-second time frame. Do you understand?” Mrs. Thompson sat patiently, her hands folded on the table, and waited for me to answer.
It was Monday morning, and I was cranky and tired. The previous group session with Bo and Jax, where we’d fielded bizarre challenges and spilled our guts, confirmed that the routine was going to be the same as last week. Now I was back undergoing more psychological testing.
Fun, it was not.
“Did you say true and false questions?” I asked to make sure I’d heard her right.
“Yes, that’s what I said. No matter how strange the question, I want you to go with the first answer that comes to mind, okay?”
I let out a breath. “Fine. I’m ready.”
She looked down at a sheaf of papers in front of her and began to read. “True or false. I’d rather be a florist than a fireman.”
“What?” I said.
She patiently repeated the question.
“False,” I said. “I totally kill plants.”
“Please don’t provide reasoning,” she said. “Just true or false, okay?”
“Sure. Whatever.”
“I’ve never lied to anyone in a position of authority.”
“False.”
“I’m a confident person.”
“Uh…false.”
This strange line of questioning went on for an hour before she was finally done. She made a couple of notes, and I stood to leave. To my surprise, she asked me to sit down and stay for a few more minutes.
Apprehensive, I returned to my seat and waited for her to speak. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table.
“Angel, I want to talk to you about Friday’s trials. Would you mind if I ask you a couple of questions about it?”
My hands tensed in my lap. I didn’t really want to revisit the disastrous trial, but I nodded. “Okay.”
“In reviewing the footage, I noticed you were the first one to find the ladder to the trapdoor on the ceiling and realize the game continued on another floor. Why didn’t you climb the ladder and immediately move quickly to find the exit on the next level?”
“Well, I sort of did.”
“Explain ‘sort of.’”
“I told Wally to cover me as I climbed the ladder. I was vulnerable there and needed his protection. Unfortunately, I still got hit going up. Once I opened the trapdoor, I went through and waited for him.”
“Why did you wait for Wally?”
“Because we were working as a team. It wasn’t in the rules that we couldn’t.”
“True.” She sat back in her chair. “So, on the first floor, was it was your idea to search along the walls, looking for the exit?”
“Yes. It was dark and hard to see. I figured the exit would be concealed, so it seemed logical to search for a door seam or a lever that would open it. That’s kind of a standard thing in games online.”
“Okay, once you got through and were waiting for Wally at the top, what happened?” she asked.
“Wally didn’t come up—well, at least not at first. Jax came next. I think he must have shot Wally or forced him away from the ladder to make his way up next. I was expecting Wally, but I managed to hit Jax when he came through. He probably expected to take the hit. He hit me, too. He didn’t bother with me after that. He ran off right away, looking for the exit, I guess.”
“So, Jax stayed focused on the assignment.”
I didn’t miss her point, and my face flushed. “Yes, I guess he did.”
“Okay, so once you and Wally were on the second floor, you resumed looking for the exit.”
“Yes. That was the goal. I eventually stepped on the door trigger by sheer luck,” I explained.
“Not just sheer luck,” she poi
nted out. “You were methodically clearing the level, looking for the exit.”
“True, but I stepped on the button by accident.”
“Fine. So, the door opened, and what happened next?”
“Wally was closer, so I pushed him through.”
“Why did you do that? You knew the first person to go through would get the bonus.”
“I know, but if he got shot one more time, he’d be dead. I was healthier, so I let him go first. I was going to follow right after him, but I tripped and Jax showed up firing. I had to roll away from the door to avoid being hit. That’s when Jax went through.”
She nodded, watching me carefully. “But you hit him.”
“I hit him as he went through. Apparently, he had enough points to take the hit and still make it through. It also took my score to a healthy fifteen points.”
“Why didn’t you go through after Jax? You had enough points to risk getting shot by anyone, including Bo, who was still in the area, and make it through safely.”
I looked down at my hands. “I know. I was going to, but…”
“But what?”
“But I knew Frankie was still out there, and I thought she could use some help.”
“You didn’t think Frankie could hold her own.”
“No, she could. I mean, I think she could. I wasn’t sure how experienced she was at laser tag. But I figured I had extra time and points, and there was nothing in the rules that said we had to come out before fifteen minutes. Just by fifteen minutes. I already knew I wasn’t going to get the top score because Wally had already secured the bonus, so I went back to see if I could give her a hand and maybe rack up more points before I came out.”
“But you got hit.”
“Yes, but Frankie found the ladder and got to the second level safely.”
“Until Kira appeared.”
I stiffened, my fists tightening at the memory of it. “Until Kira appeared. She scored a shot on me, but momentarily lost her gun. At that moment, were all down to five points. I was going to finish off Kira, but I didn’t.”
“Why not?”
I hesitated. “Because Frankie asked me not to, which was nuts. Kira doesn’t even like us, and especially not Frankie.”
“Why doesn’t Kira like Frankie?”
“I have no idea. Frankie is nice to everyone. But Kira flat out told us she didn’t want to be friends with any of us.”
“I see. So, while you were arguing with Frankie, Kira somehow retrieved her gun and shot at Frankie. You saw what happened and put yourself between Frankie and the laser, thereby saving her. Why did you do it, Angel?”
My cheeks heated. “I don’t know. I didn’t want her to fail.”
“So you’re her leader, then?”
“What? No.” I was taken aback by the comment. “I’m just her friend. I want her to succeed.”
“At your own expense?”
I looked down at my hands and then back at her. “I guess so.”
“Okay, thank you, Angel.”
I stood, feeling like I’d messed up more than I could have imagined. Slash would be so disappointed in me, and that hurt a lot.
I had a bad feeling my time at the trials was coming to an end faster than I expected.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
ANGEL SINCLAIR
The one bright spot in terms of physical fitness was my time in the pool. Hala and I were the fastest swimmers, though I was faster for shorter races and Hala had better stamina for longer distances. Unfortunately, my performance in the pool didn’t help me with the ups—the pull-ups, chin-ups, and push-ups. Our trainer, Mac, got me started on weights to strengthen my upper body. Everything hurt after one session. Subsequent sessions indicated I was weaker than a wet noodle.
Frankie was delegated to the treadmill, rowing machines, and working with some stretchy band things. All of us had a group yoga session on Wednesday that confirmed I had the flexibility of a sheet of steel.
Ugh.
Slowly we got into a routine with our classes, testing sessions, workouts, and each other. Frankie and Hala started foreign language testing—Frankie in Mandarin and Korean, and Hala in Arabic. The only foreign languages Wally and I knew were computer ones, and they were testing us out on them. I didn’t know what everyone else’s capabilities were.
Everything seemed fine until Thursday, when all of us—except Frankie—started to stress out about the upcoming trial on Friday.
Maybe in an attempt to distract me from my anxiety, Frankie started talking to me about Jax out of the blue.
“I like Jax,” she announced Thursday when we were on our way to lunch. “He’s smart and tough, but I bet he’s a softie beneath that rough exterior.”
“Why are we talking about Jax?” I asked. “The next trial is tomorrow. We have to pass it or we’re toast. That’s what should have our focus right now.”
“Oh, forget about the trial for a while. I’d rather talk about Jax.”
“I don’t want to talk about him.” I glared at her.
“Stop being so grumpy. You never want to talk about anything. Come on, you have to admit he’s super cute.” Frankie slipped her arm through mine and smiled. “And he does seem to have his eye on you.”
I had no idea how to respond, because I wasn’t even sure what she meant by that. Asking for clarification would only encourage more discussion on this topic. The truth was I didn’t want to talk about anything. I wanted only to embrace my sky-high anxiety and shut everything else out, but Frankie wasn’t going to let me.
She wiggled her eyebrows at me. “He has that bad-boy vibe.”
“That’s not a vibe, Frankie. It’s real.”
“Ooh, is it? Well, I like him anyway.” Frankie gave an exaggerated sigh. “Too bad he’s not my type.”
“You don’t have a type. You like everyone.”
“Of course I like everyone.” She looked at me in exasperation. “That doesn’t mean I want to date everyone.”
“See, what does that even mean?” I said. “This is exactly why I don’t like to talk about boys with you.”
“You don’t talk about boys with anyone.” She laughed again. “But don’t worry. You’ll get better at it. I promise.”
“Happy birthday, Angel!”
It was Thursday evening and I’d just walked into the cafeteria for dinner to find Frankie holding a cupcake with a candle on it. Bo, Mike, Wally, and Hala stood around her clapping and smiling. Jax and Kira were missing, as usual.
“You remembered my birthday?” I said stopping in the doorway.
“Of course we remembered. Come on and blow out your candle.”
Embarrassed by all the attention, I walked forward as they sang “Happy Birthday.” After they finished, I blew out my candle. Everyone wished me a wonderful birthday and then Frankie brought out cupcakes for the rest of the group.
“Where did you get these?” I asked Frankie, biting into the cupcake. Chocolate exploded on my tongue.
She took a bite and sighed, closing her eyes. “Oh, I conspired with Suzanne a week ago. She was so kind and agreed to make some for me. Wasn’t that sweet?”
I frowned, puzzled. “Who’s Suzanne?”
“What? You don’t know Suzanne?” She looked over her shoulder. “She’s the sweet girl over there who serves us dinner every evening. She’s twenty-one years old and studying forensic anthropology. She works part-time here, helping to pay for school. She has three younger brothers and a dog named Rex.”
“Do I need to ask how in the world you know all that?”
“We see her every day, for heaven’s sake, Angel. Why wouldn’t I talk to her?”
“You really do talk to everyone,” I said, sighing.
I looked over my shoulder at Suzanne. She noticed me staring, so I pointed to the cupcake and mouthed Thank you.
She grinned and gave me a thumbs-up.
Although we’d eaten our dessert first, we got our dinner and sat at the tables. This time Bo pushed togeth
er a couple of tables so the six of us could eat together. Other than Jax and Kira, the rest of us were becoming a solid unit.
Frankie whipped something out from underneath the table and handed it to me. “Happy birthday, Angel. I hope you like it.”
It was wrapped in tissue paper. I unwrapped it and pulled out a blue T-shirt that read Have you tried turning it on and off?
I held it up against me and everyone laughed. “Thanks, Frankie. I love it.”
She gave me a hug just as Wally passed me an envelope. “It isn’t much, but I know you’ll like it.”
I ripped it open and found he’d bought me thirty dollars of credits on Hidden Realm. Whistling, I gave him a high five. “Sweet.”
“Thought you’d like it.”
As we ate, the conversation turned toward tomorrow’s trials.
“What do you think the trial will be this week?” Wally asked around a mouthful of fried rice. “Skydiving? Fighting terrorists? Playing poker?”
Mike snorted. “I hope it is poker. I’m unstoppable at poker and even better at chess.”
Wally dipped his head toward me. “If I were you, I’d be scared of Angel. To her, everything is a mathematical calculation. She’d be formidable in a game of cards.”
“No way could Angel be formidable,” Frankie said. “She has a terrible poker face.”
“Hey!” I said in mock outrage while everyone laughed.
“Yeah, and she’d still have to get the cards.” Mike speared a piece of sweet and sour pork and ate it. “Luck does play a role, you know.”
We threw out a couple more ideas until Hala held up a hand. “Guys, I think we’re on the wrong track here. I bet it’s going to be an intelligence test of some kind. Strategic thinking or teamwork.”
“Reaction and response,” said Mike, nodding. “A series of events we have to react to and respond.”
“How we react in dangerous situations,” Bo offered.
Knight Moves Page 14
