I fought the urge to rush. Rushing meant mistakes, and we didn’t have time for even one. I drew in slow, careful breaths as I tied the knot, eyeballing the opening to ensure it was smaller than the pole so it wouldn’t slide down.
“Okay, knot is tied,” I yelled. “Stand by.”
I reached up, carefully pushing the noose up to the top of the pole. Using my arm to toss or throw it was out of the question, as the movement could topple me off. I’d have to use my wrist to flick it as hard as I could over the object.
When I had gone as far as I could reach, I flicked my wrist and gently pulled. The noose came right back to me, landing on my back. It hadn’t gone over the object.
I tried twice more, but no success. Sweat dripped down my temples and blurred my vision. My shoulders and back were screaming from the strain. I could hear whimpers from Hala below and knew my weight had to be digging into her shoulders.
I closed my eyes, took a breath.
“How’s it going, Angel?” Bo shouted up.
“Stand by,” I answered, reaching up and giving the noose another wrist flick. This time when I pulled, the noose didn’t come back. I carefully tightened it. I pulled as hard as I could, but I wasn’t at the right angle to twist it.
“Guys, I’ve got good news and bad news. The good news is I’ve got the noose around the object. I’ve pulled, but from my vantage point, I can’t rotate it enough to pop it off.”
More groans came from below.
“We’ve got only one option,” Bo called up. “We’re going to have to move.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
ANGEL SINCLAIR
“Whoa, what?” Wally said.
“We’re going to have to shuffle as a group with Angel as she pulls on the rope at the same time,” Bo repeated.
“Well, whatever we’re going to do, we’d better do it fast,” said Mike. “We’ve only got six minutes left.”
I gulped, then shouted, “I’m ready, let’s just do it.”
“Angel, which way do we go?” shouted Bo.
I froze. Good question. Why hadn’t I thought to add that to the one question I asked Mr. Donovan?
“I don’t know,” I said honestly. “I’m going with clockwise. It’s the most logical.”
“Maybe that’s exactly why we should go counterclockwise,” Wally shouted back.
“Just decide and do it quickly,” Jax yelled. His voice sounded strained. The collective weight of all of us on his and Bo’s shoulders had to be killing them.
“Clockwise,” I said decisively.
“Clockwise, it is,” Bo shouted. “On my mark, I want everyone to gently shift their weight with me to the right. I’m going to shuffle about an inch, and then I’ll call a stop. Just try to stay with me. Then we’ll go another inch, and so on, until that baby pops off.”
I pressed my lips together and tightened my hands on the rope. They were slick with sweat. The odds were high our stack would collapse when we moved.
“Now,” he shouted and I could feel the group move slightly to the left. For a second we swayed precariously and then straightened out. I pulled on the rope, but nothing. What if Wally was right and it was counterclockwise? I would have ruined it for everyone.
Focus, Sinclair. Second-guessing at this stage of the game isn’t helpful.
“Again,” I yelled.
“Now,” Bo called out. He shuffled, the rest of us coming along. This time we swayed even more. There were a lot of groans and some muffled cussing. I wasn’t sure we could take one more movement.
“Come on,” Jax shouted. “You can do it, Angel.”
I pulled as hard as I dared, but nothing happened. In sheer desperation, I lifted myself slightly off Hala’s shoulders, putting all my weight on the rope. I felt the object turn, and then with a pop, it flew off the pole and headed toward the mats below.
I almost went with it.
“It worked!” I shouted. I landed back on Hala’s shoulders a bit harder than I intended, but she steadied my ankles with her hands. For a moment afterward, our balance was precarious. Miraculously, we all managed to lean into the pole and stay up. We let out a collective sigh of relief.
After that there was a lot of cheering until I heard Frankie speak. “While that’s all great and wonderful, guys, the clock is still ticking. How the heck do we get down from here?”
I looked over at Mr. Donovan and noticed he was clapping his hands. “Jump,” he shouted at us. “It’s safe. You’ll bounce on the mats.”
Since I was on top, I had to go first and have faith he was right. Closing my eyes, I pushed away from the pole and jumped. I landed on the mat and bounced around a bit, but eventually rolled off.
“It works,” I shouted. “Jump!”
One by one, everyone unstacked and collapsed in exhaustion.
Bo again kept us on track. “We have one minute and seventeen seconds left. Who goes across first?”
“I vote for Bo,” I said. “He was our commander today, and we wouldn’t have made it without him.”
“I agree,” said Wally. “Without him, we’d all be toast. Especially me.”
One by one, we nodded our consent.
Bo shook his head. “I don’t feel right about this. This was a group effort.”
“We were only a group because you held us together.” Jax slapped Bo on the back. “The vote is a done deal, bro, so don’t bother protesting. Walk across the finish line so we can follow you and get cleaned up, okay?”
Bo finally nodded. “Thanks, everyone, for the vote of confidence.”
The moment he crossed the finish line, we rushed him in a happy surge. I’d never been so exhausted in my life, but the fact that I’d finished what I’d considered an insurmountable part of my training made me hope that maybe I could do this after all. Another trial down, and I was still standing.
Only one question remained. How much more could I stand?
Chapter Thirty-Eight
ANGEL SINCLAIR
The next morning, every muscle in my body hurt. Arms, shoulders, back, butt, thighs, you name it. I could barely walk, even after taking ibuprofen. Regardless, there was no way I was missing the regular Saturday trip into town. I needed to buy some supplies and wanted to do some reading.
Neither Frankie nor Wally made it into town, as they’d both elected to sleep in. I didn’t see Kira, either, as she’d already been gone when I awoke. The rest of us sat on the bus quietly, staring out the window, sore from the difficult physical challenges of the trial.
The bus dropped us off, and we all went our separate ways. I headed straightaway for the main square, where I could make some calls. I talked with my mom for about twenty minutes, and then Gwen for another fifteen. I kept my comments to glowing endorsements of the curriculum and staff and mentioned zip about the physical pain and emotional roller coaster I was riding. After I hung up, I headed to the small bookstore café, which had become a favorite, to do some private research on my dad.
The café was nearly empty except for two girls sitting at a table and looking at their phones and the old guy who’d paid for my hot chocolate the last time I’d been in here.
He looked up from his newspaper. “Well, hello again. You’ve got money today?”
I held up my wallet. “I’m happy to pay you back.”
“You will not. It’s not every day an old man like me gets to buy a young lady a hot chocolate and croissant.”
“Thank you very much. It’s much appreciated.”
“My pleasure.”
He went back to reading his paper as I got in line to buy a hot chocolate. I added a cinnamon roll to my order, because it smelled heavenly.
I picked the same table I usually had so I could angle my laptop to the wall and no one could see what I was doing. It was just a precaution, but after the email warning me to beware of possible criminal elements in the NSA who might be monitoring me, I had become exceptionally careful about what I did online. I ate half of my cinnamon roll before I s
tarted reading information on Joseph Lando. When my hot chocolate cooled, I drank it, enjoying the rich flavor.
The bell on the café door rang, and I looked up as Jax strolled in. He spotted me, and I swear his eyes lit up. He made a beeline for my table, so I quickly closed my laptop, resting my elbows on top of it. This was turning into a regular meeting place for us, but oddly, I’d started to look forward to it. “Hey, Jax.”
“Hey, Red. How’s the hot chocolate today?”
“Excellent as always, and I actually paid for it by myself.”
He slid into the chair opposite me and looked over his shoulder. “Even though your boyfriend is here?”
“Very funny. He’s really nice. I offered to pay him back, but he wouldn’t take my money.” The teenage girls looked at Jax and giggled. I tipped my head toward them. “Those girls like you.”
“What girls?” He didn’t take his eyes off me.
“The girls at the table over there. You passed them on your way in.”
“They’re not my type.”
“Oh, you have a type?”
“I do.” He grinned and leaned forward, lowering his voice. “I’m partial to redheads.”
Even though I thought he was just teasing me, my cheeks heated anyway. “You’re impossible, you know.” He seemed amused by my blush, so I decided to change the subject. “How are you feeling after yesterday’s trial?”
He leaned back, shrugged his shoulders a couple of times. “My shoulders and arms are killing me, but personally, I think the obstacle course was way too easy. Something’s off. I have a feeling they’re preparing to spring something big on us. Something to shake things up.”
“What are you talking about?” I looked at him incredulously. “The trial yesterday was not easy. Every part of my body hurts and might possibly hurt for the rest of my life.”
“It was easy,” he insisted. “They’re priming us for something else. A shock, an unexpected twist. They think we’re complacent, so they’re going to make us change the way we’re doing things.”
“Complacent? Are you serious?”
“Completely.”
I cocked my head, studying him. “And you know this…how, exactly?”
“Instinct.” He lifted his hands. “I told you I’m good at reading people and situations. It’s a gut feeling, but it’s a strong one.”
I didn’t know what to make of his so-called gut feeling, but I figured I’d find out soon enough. “Fine. Go get your coffee and tell me more about this gut feeling of yours.”
He raised a dark eyebrow. “Are you inviting me to coffee, Red?”
“Only if you bring me back another cinnamon roll.”
He laughed and stood. “Ah, now that’s a deal I can get behind.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
ISAAC REMINGTON
“Did she finally wash out?” Isaac sat in his car at the parking lot of his favorite French restaurant, L’auberge, speaking to Sampson on the burner phone.
“Strangely, she did not. In fact, not one of the kids has washed out yet. It’s crazy. I think the entire class is going into the final trial together.”
“Impossible. What’s going on over there?” Isaac swore under his breath.
“I don’t know, but she was at the bookstore café again working on her computer—on what, we don’t know. She’s still being extraordinary careful behind the keyboard. She called her mother and sister from the cell.”
Isaac drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. Who would have guessed that the girl would hang in there for so long at the trials? One of his first duties as the new NSA director would be to overhaul the UTOP program, ensuring the standards remained high.
“So, what happened during your meeting with the director?” Sampson asked.
Isaac watched a couple walk into the restaurant. The man was in a suit and the woman in towering heels, clutching onto his arm for support. Two ordinary citizens who had no idea the lengths to which their government went to keep them safe. “He’s on the fence. While he’s concerned about the terrorist information not panning out the way he thought it would, he wants to wait until the next contact with Sinclair to make a final decision.”
“That could be dangerous. Sinclair is getting desperate.”
“Exactly, which is why we need to make sure the next contact never happens. Let’s put the play for the daughter into place. Finalize the arrangements, and for God’s sake, be discreet. Make sure there is no trail.”
There was a pause, but Sampson came through. “Done. Next Saturday?”
“Next Saturday,” Isaac confirmed.
“The UTOP trials will be finished by then. What if she makes it?”
“She won’t. But even if she does, I have it on good authority they won’t announce who’s going through until the evening. Snatch her that morning while she’s in town talking on the phone. You said she’s usually alone then.”
“That’s correct.”
“Do it then. If that doesn’t work, improvise. Just see that she doesn’t return to the UTOP campus. We need the leverage.”
“Understood, sir. I’ll let you know when it’s done.”
Chapter Forty
ANGEL SINCLAIR
Monday morning we were instructed via loudspeaker to report to Room 101 after breakfast instead of reporting to our first class.
As we ate, I couldn’t help thinking about what Jax had told me—how they were going to shake things up. He was noticeably absent from breakfast, as was Kira. What was with those two? They always seemed to be missing at the same time.
I choked down some cereal and followed Frankie and Wally to Room 101. Frankie chatted cheerfully the entire way, but Wally sensed my apprehension and shot me several questioning glances during our walk to the classroom. When we got there, we slid into our seats and waited quietly. Jax and Kira were the last to arrive and came in together. Kira sat near the front of the room, while Jax sat in his usual spot two desks behind me.
Mr. Donovan shut the door. “Students, we wanted to let you know we were quite pleased with your performance on Friday. It was nice work from all of you. Excellent teamwork, strategic thinking, and a good utilization of your strengths.”
He leaned forward, bracing his hands on the teacher’s desk. “However, I do have a couple of important announcements before you begin your week’s activities. First, while I know it is disconcerting not to know your exact standing in the class, rest assured we’re looking at all aspects of your character. This includes capability, mental toughness, stamina, physical fitness, intelligence, special skills, flexibility, and adaptability. We’re conducting a complex and thorough evaluation. So if you feel as if you aren’t doing well, I’m here to assure you, you are.”
We all looked at each other, but none of us said anything. What could we say? He’d told us exactly nothing.
“So, after considerable debate and conversation, we’ve decided to make something about the competition known to you,” he continued. “Although each of you has admirable and excellent skills, we’ve decided we’re only going to choose two of you to proceed to the UTOP Academy to further your studies as an operative.”
The room was so silent, you could hear the birds chirping outside the window. I stared at him, speechless.
What. The. Heck?
Only two of us?
“Two?” Wally finally spluttered. “Why only two?”
Mr. Donovan crossed his arms. “Because, Mr. Harris, that’s the number of students we want. Now, if any of you feel this is unfair, or would like to drop out of contention, please say so now. If not, you may leave and continue with your day’s schedule.”
We remained silent, so he smiled. “So be it. That concludes my announcement for the day. Please head to your next class.”
Jax was the first to rise and leave the room. As he passed by, he glanced at me. His expression clearly said, I told you so.
“They’re going to do something to shake things up.”
Holy c
rap. He’d been right. They’d done exactly that.
One by one, the rest of us filed out without a word. However, as soon as we got in the hallway, Wally pulled Frankie and me aside.
“Did you hear that?” he whispered heatedly. “They’re only going to take two of us. It’s not fair. We haven’t even finished the trials yet.”
Frankie’s expression looked heartbroken, which now that I thought about it, was the first time I’d ever seen that look on her. That worried me far more than what Mr. Donovan had said. “What’s wrong, Frankie?”
Sadness shimmered in her eyes. “Only two of us are going forward. At best, at least one of us will get left behind.”
I felt sick at the possibility. Break up the White Knights after we’d been through so much? Worse, what if both of them were selected and I got left behind? Or I got selected and they got left behind. Or any variation thereof.
None of those options were acceptable.
“Maybe it’s just another test.” I knew I was grasping at straws, but there had to be some way to make this work. “You know, to see how far we’re willing to go—to step on each other—to make one of the two slots.”
“I’m not going step on either one of you,” Frankie said.
“Me neither, “Wally agreed.
“Well, I’m not, either,” I said. “But I don’t think the others will share our sentiment. Kira will be the first to step on all three of us.”
“She won’t,” Wally said, crossing his arms against his chest. “You’ve got her all wrong, Angel.”
“I don’t have it wrong, Wally,” I said irritably. “She’s out for herself and no one else.”
“You’re not giving her the credit she’s due,” he insisted. “Jax is the one we should be worried about. I think he’d undercut us in a fast minute.”
“Don’t try to deflect this from Kira,” I said hotly. “You’re thinking with your hormones instead of your brain when it comes to her.”
“Stop it, both of you.” Frankie put a hand on each of our shoulders. “What are we going to do?”
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