The Lethal Agent (The Extraction Files Book 2)

by RS McCoy

  “Yeah, and when we got the masses, they were almost entirely the same. What was the percent?” she looked back and asked Theo.

  “Uh, 0.008 percent.”

  “So what are you thinking Maggie?”

  Mable realized she didn’t have a good reason for visiting Ramona, especially not so early in the day. “I don’t know. It just seems odd.”

  “Tell me why,” Ramona pressed her.

  “Well, they’re animals, right? Don’t they come in various sizes? Humans have vast differences in their masses. Why are the bugs all the same?”

  “Are all the bugs identical in mass?”

  “No, just for each species. The Slight is the lightest, and the Echo the heaviest. But if you compare each Slight, they’re all the same. I tested the Echoes and Yields this morning, and they were close. I didn’t run the calculations yet, but I can already tell they’re close.”

  “So what do these identical masses tell you about the bugs?” Ramona leaned forward and attempted to stare at her despite her blindness.

  “I don’t know.” Mable felt it. The answer was close, a lingering aftertaste of something she couldn’t quite remember. The harder she grasped for it, the further it slipped away.

  “Yes you do. Tell me, Maggie. What does their identical mass indicate?”

  “That they’re identical?” It sounded lame as soon as she said it.

  “Yes child,” Ramona said with a sly smile as she leaned back in her chair. She closed her eyes and would have looked to be asleep if not for the smile.

  “You mean—” Mable said before her thoughts could catch up. “Come on, let’s go tell Arrenstein.” She leapt from the floor, thanked Ramona, and rushed out.

  A full minute later, they bolted into Arrenstein’s office. He sat at his desk with a file displayed in holograph. “You’re just in time,” he said, as if he’d been expecting them.

  “We figured something out. About the bugs.”

  “It’ll have to wait.” His voice was cold.

  “But this is big—”

  “You’ve got another assignment. Level One.”

  Mable froze at the words. She shouldn’t have been surprised. She knew jobs could come up at any time, that they would continue to come up until she’d figured out how to stop them.

  Still, she was shocked. “Where?”

  “Berlin, a pharmaceutical researcher.” Arrenstein was all fake smile and charm, sauntering around his desk as he spoke.

  “Let me guess, Dr. Ludwig?”

  Arrenstein looked at her then. “How did you know that?”

  “Lucky guess. When do we leave?”

  “As soon as you’re ready. You know, I could make a case for you to stay here. You’ve just suffered considerable injury and an extraction. Jane and Georgie have yet to go into the field. I could—”

  “No, we’ll head out within the hour. But when we get back, I want to set up a meeting so me and Theo can tell you about what we found.” His jaw set tight. He looked almost disappointed in her.

  “Maggie, you don’t have to—”

  “Yes, I do.” She walked over to him and stood inches from his chest, though she was too short to look him straight in the eye. “I’ll follow the rules, I’ll do whatever you want, I’ll make you look so damn good. So the next time I ask you to do the right thing, you won’t go belly up on me.”

  And with that, she marched out of Arrenstein’s office and headed to her room with Theo tight on her heels.

  AIDA

  LRF-PQ-291

  SEPTEMBER 5, 2232

  The idea of being alone again sat on her chest and emptied the air from her lungs. She knew it was the right thing—she knew they had been in the wrong all along.

  That didn’t make it any easier.

  Aida couldn’t decide what was going on with Sal. Why was he so—what? Not attentive, really, but less absent. He noticed when she didn’t eat or when she changed her outfit. In five years, he’d never shown such interest. Was he somehow aware, even innately, of her interaction with Calvin?

  Aida returned to her apartment and stripped off the decorative top she wore over her body suit. She put it on a hanger and closed the closet door, trapping a piece of herself inside.

  Where at first guilt had filled her, now there was something else. She was less afraid of her class rules, less concerned with the type of woman she would be made out to be. Now, her thoughts were with Calvin, even when she couldn’t be with him.

  Now that she’d sent Calvin away, would Sal retreat as well?

  Had she lost them both? Did she care about them both?

  It was for the best, she reminded herself.

  No one had forced her to be with Sal. The committee had made their recommendations based on genetic compatibility, career aspirations, and background. Aida, in the upper echelon of Scholars, had had a narrow window from which to choose. The Gallaghers of New York. The Birminghams of Tulsa. The Perkinses of San Diego. There were only so many others who could match her profile, and of them, even less with careers that would send them off-world.

  At the end, there had been four options, and she’d chosen Sal. He was the kindest of them, the least robotic. She hadn’t realized, even then, that that was important to her.

  Now, in light of Calvin’s consuming warmth, even Sal fell short. The entire apartment felt cold.

  “You’re home early today,” he said from his desk.

  Aida sank into her own chair and pulled up the news feed, pretending to read it.

  Two full hours passed in silence. She couldn’t concentrate on the news but refused to go back to Calvin so quickly. She’d give it a few days at least, to make sure nothing was wrong, that Sal was still unaware of her infidelity. Then, not a moment later than she had to, Aida would go back to Calvin. Aida had to laugh at herself. A successful Scholar woman, so easily derailed by the bright-green eyes of her junior researcher.

  She couldn’t pretend for even a single evening.

  Or at least she thought.

  Without pretense, Sal spoke as if to no one. “Dr. Ramos was promoted this morning,” he said like she knew who that was. “I’ll be the new Lead for PC.”

  Aida realized the significance. They were both leads in their departments. Among Scholars in LRF, their combined salaries were some of the highest. If they ever made their way back to Earth, they would be very rich.

  But Aida didn’t want to go back to Earth. Not anymore.

  “I think it’s time we apply for a Child Permit.” Sal spoke about it like it was little more than a new provision flavor. It wasn’t what he wanted, but rather it was what he thought appropriate of someone in his position. It was his duty.

  Aida struggled to breathe. Tears stung at her eyes. The unfairness of it.

  She would have to choose between the child she wanted, and the man who awakened her. A baby or a lover.

  She couldn’t have both.

  Aida wanted to smack him. So rarely in her life had she been violent, but now, the desire came so easily. If only he’d agreed to a child weeks before when she’d asked—when she’d been ready. When she didn’t know what she would be missing.

  “I think that’s wise,” she said instead, her voice even. There was no other choice. If she hesitated, Sal would ask why. If she told him the truth, she would be exiled.

  So instead, she agreed.

  “I’ll submit the necessary files in the morning.”

  A Child Permit Application. It was a dream come true.

  THEO

  SHUTTLE DOCK NYY-616, NEW YORK

  SEPTEMBER 5, 2232

  The travel badges, the equipment bag, the emotionally unstable partner. These little excursions were becoming almost routine.

  This time, though, they would cross an ocean. They would leave North America entirely, and if anything went wrong, Dr. Arrenstein wouldn’t jump on a shuttle to save them.

  Theo would have to be the responsible party this time. And he was determined to be.

&nbs
p; International travel required a few extra steps, bag searches and scans, and two forms of identification. Nick provided them with everything they’d need. Theo, as Dr. Albert Munroe, was a frequent traveler recognized by both American and EU governments. Mable, as his wife, Dr. Alice Munroe, was afforded the same privileges, bumped to the front of the line, and cleared for boarding without a search of any kind.

  They practically waltzed onto the shuttle. The flight from New York to Berlin would take a whopping five hours, so they put in their orders for drinks and a meal while they waited for the rest of the passengers to board.

  “Hey, why does everyone call you Maggie?” Theo asked to pass the time. He rubbed the baldness of his head, sad over the loss of his hair, even if it was only temporary. Osip had made quick work of his dark locks.

  “They don’t.” Her eyes were lost in the digital pages of whatever book she was reading.

  Her own appearance was dramatically altered. She had bright-red hair a shade lighter than Dasia’s, and where it had been straight before, now it held a considerable wave. In an indigo body suit that matched his own, he almost didn’t recognize her.

  “Yeah, that Ramona called you Maggie. And Dr. Arrenstein does all the time.”

  “He’s just bad with names.” She didn’t look up. The same old Mable, despite her appearance.

  “If you don’t want to talk about it, you could have just said.” Theo settled into his seat and pulled up the music application on his wristlet.

  “I believe I just did.”

  He slid his audio devices behind his ears. “I only meant that if you like to be called Maggie, then that’s what I’ll call you. But if you don’t, I’ll stick to Mable.”

  “I like Mable,” she said. Her voice sounded quieter, though that could have been because of the music streaming into his ears.

  Theo turned off the music for a moment, unable to hold it back any longer. “You know, you can pretend to be this tough girl who doesn’t care about anything all you want, but I know that’s not who you are. I was there when you cried over Hadley and Rowen. I know that deep down in there, you’re a good, caring person. So whenever you’re ready to stop pretending to be a hard ass, let me know.” With a tap on his wristlet, he let the music fill his ears once more. He didn’t know if Mable responded, and he didn’t really care.

  Once the passengers were boarded and the shuttle was in the air, the Craftsman servicewomen came around with drinks for both of them, water again despite their orders. Three hours in, two bowls of the nutritional provisions arrived.

  Mable pushed hers away.

  Theo nearly gagged. He would never touch it again.

  Three seats to his right, Theo saw several passengers receive plates of roast chicken with vegetables and start eating.

  He’d never wanted real food so bad.

  Mable was silent for the duration of the flight, probably mad at him. Theo couldn’t decide if that was good or bad. Most of the time, he liked talking to Mable. As much as he would never have thought it possible upon first meeting her, Mable was smart and creative, and he enjoyed her company. Other times, she was a wild, feral cat, ready to pounce on him with claws out whenever the mood struck.

  Nonetheless, Theo was pleased to get a chance to listen to music, uninterrupted. He’d missed it more than he’d realized. More than once, he found his fingers tapping the armrests along with the beat, as if the songs coursed through him.

  Once landed, their travel badges coded for a pod to take them to a hotel. It was late, almost midnight in Germany. With Dr. Ludwig at her family home with two small children, they would have to wait until morning.

  Theo pressed his palm to the scanner by the hotel door and watched as a thin, plastic card emerged. On it, the room number 832 was printed.

  Mable yawned as they filed into the elevator and made their way to the eighth floor. Little pieces of hair splayed out all over, and her suit was wrinkled from the shuttle flight.

  They both needed a good night’s sleep. Theo was eager to get to the room and collapse into bed.

  Neither of them expected what they’d find.

  Room 832 was small, with a single bed, narrow shower, and window that faced the adjacent building. It had a low crimson chair that matched the crimson bedding and crimson curtains, but Theo could only see the bed. The single, solitary bed.

  They both stood in the door pretending the situation wasn’t awkward.

  “I’ll take the floor,” Theo grumbled as he filed into the room and threw his bag onto the chair. Too late did he remember the jar of ammonium nitrate they would use to collect the Echo tomorrow.

  Mable tossed her bag onto the bed and stripped out of her suit in a flash. Before Theo could stop her, she stood beside the bed nude but for a pair of slim, black hip-hugging bottoms.

  Theo couldn’t help but stare.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I was your first,” she said sarcastically.

  “First?”

  “Naked girl. You need to get out more.” Mable made no attempt to cover herself as she dug through her bag.

  “I’ve seen girls before,” he protested.

  “Then why are you staring?” She cocked an eyebrow at him.

  “You look a lot different. You had more tattoos last time.”

  “And a top,” she reminded him.

  “A very small one,” he rebutted. “And your belly button was pierced, too, wasn’t it?”

  Mable stood up straight and dropped a shirt back into her bag. She took a few steps and arrived mere inches from him. He shook like a leaf, but refused to let her know how much she unnerved him, especially so bare.

  Her hands dipped down and she pointed to a hip with each index finger. “I had two here. A chandelier here.” She pointed to her navel. “Both nipples.” Theo couldn’t help but watch as she touched them as well. “Fourteen on my left ear, sixteen on the right. A ring in my septum.” Mable pinched her nose lightly. “One in each corner of my lower lip, and one through the middle. Two on my eyebrow, and two little studs in my cheeks.” She pressed her fingers into the place where dimples might be.

  “That’s all?” He smiled to hide his nerves.

  “There may have been one or two more.” His smile faded when she winked and walked back to her bag. He could only imagine the spots she hadn’t mentioned.

  “Dr. Arrenstein made you get rid of them?”

  “Yep.”

  “What about the tattoos?”

  “Yep. Those, too.”

  “What about this one?” Surprising even himself, Theo stepped forward and pressed a finger to the bright-yellow tattoo along her ribs. He could hear her breath stop at his touch.

  “I asked to keep it.”

  “And he said yes?”

  Mable looked up and smiled. “I’m very persuasive.” A moment later, she put both her hands around his and moved it up until his fingertips pressed the soft flesh of her chest. She gazed up at him, but he didn’t know what she expected. Theo didn’t want only a night of her, and he knew she didn’t want more from him.

  Theo complied for a few seconds before he pulled his hand back. “We should get some sleep.”

  “Really?” She rolled her eyes and returned to her bag where she slipped into her shirt followed by a pair of loose pants. “Do you want the bathroom first?”

  “Yeah, sure.” Theo sighed. There was no middle ground. She either liked him or hated him, and if he didn’t wise up soon, she’d likely hate him forever. Theo couldn’t figure her out.

  DASIA

  CPI-RQ2-04, NEW YORK

  SEPTEMBER 5, 2232

  Mable didn’t show up that night, though Dasia should have known better. One of the profiles from the matrix had disappeared. Someone had gone to extract the bug. Mable was gone.

  It didn’t take Dasia long to figure it out.

  She was just disappointed. All day she’d waited to see what Mable had in store, what cleaning had to do with changing herself. She was excited, more than sh
e let herself admit. She wanted to be new again, to be more than the shell Cole left behind.

  When Osip knocked on her door, she didn’t have much of a choice. She’d avoided him all day, and without Mable to be her excuse, she had no reason not to open it and let him in.

  “Hey D. Another profile popped up. I thought you’d want to go over it together.” Osip had none of the smile or life in his eyes he usually had. Instead, his brow was wrinkled, as if he hated talking to her at all.

  “Yeah, sounds good. Your room or mine?” She tried to sound less nervous than she was.

  “I’m all set up in mine if you want to come over. Or I can move it over here. Whatever you want.”

  “Okay, let me grab my stuff.” Dasia pulled the tablet from her desk and the sweater on the back of her chair and walked across the hall to Osip’s room. The door was open and waiting for her.

  It was strange to be in his room now. The walls mocked her, the chair laughed at her. Now, she sat in it again, refusing to cower.

  “Here, this one’s gone, Dr. Ludwig in Berlin. They sent a recon team, so next up is this one. Dr. Virgil Rathbone.” Osip spoke like she was his boss, like he was delivering a book report. He tapped the profile and produced the photo and data for yet another possible host.

  Dasia scanned the information, as confused and clueless as ever. “You think we should go ask Nick?” They weren’t getting anywhere on their own.

  “Because he was so helpful the first time?”

  “True,” she admitted. A suffocating silence filled the room, as thick and inescapable as a haze storm. Dasia wished Mable had come, showed her how to be someone else. Given the choice, she would be like Cole. He was the best she’d ever known. Kind and open, confident in a quiet way, as if he’d known they’d end up together all along. He was smart and outgoing, friendly to strangers and loyal to friends. Sure, he was reckless and addicted and ultimately got himself killed, but there was so much good in the rest of him.

  Dasia wanted to be like that.

  And why shouldn’t she? She could be kind and friendly to Osip, even if she didn’t want anything else from him. “I used to have rabbits. Did I ever tell you that?” The silence disappeared as fast as it had come.