Secrets of PEACE

Home > Other > Secrets of PEACE > Page 7
Secrets of PEACE Page 7

by T. A. Hernandez


  This time, Zira didn’t even bother denying it. She liked Jared as a friend, and considering how short her list of friends was, that was saying something. But maybe it was more than that. She had to admit to herself that she’d been pleased when Aubreigh suggested Jared might have feelings for her.

  “When you finally figure out that I’m right,” Aubreigh said, “you should talk to him. Don’t start avoiding him like you did with the last guy we thought you liked.”

  “You thought I liked,” Zira corrected her. “And I stopped talking to him because he was a jerk.”

  “Well, Jared doesn’t seem like a jerk. You two are cute together—”

  “You’ve barely even seen us together.”

  “—and if you mess this up for yourself, so help me, I will kill you.”

  Zira raised her eyebrows. “It’s like that, then?”

  “Yes, it is. Seriously though, just think about it. I’ve never seen you like this before. You’re happy. Not that you weren’t before, but this is different. I like it.”

  Zira nodded. “Yeah, all right.”

  To her credit, she did put a lot of thought into what Aubreigh had said. There were a few times when she even believed there might be some truth to it. On occasion, she thought she caught Jared looking at her with something more than friendly affection in his eyes. But that was the problem; they were friends. No matter what else Zira might have felt for him, she valued his friendship above all else. Even just talking about something more than that might change the rapport between them, and she didn’t want to jeopardize that. She decided not to do or say anything. Not yet, at least. Not until she had a better idea of what she was actually feeling.

  Seth did not approach Zira again until the final day of the internal investigation. The E-1s were packing up and leaving in droves, but Seth had apparently chosen to stay behind until the last possible moment. He approached their table at lunch that day, and Aubreigh greeted him like he was an old friend. “Hey Seth! Have a seat—here.” She scooted to one side to make room for him. “Guys, this is Seth. We worked together a little bit in the South Atlantic Region.”

  “We’ve met,” said Zira.

  Aubreigh’s eyes darted between Seth, Zira, and Jared. The smile fell from her face as she sensed the tension between them. “Actually,” said Seth, turning to Zira, “I was hoping to catch you before I left. Could you spare a few moments to answer some more questions?”

  “I’m eating,” Zira said. “Can it wait?”

  “It won’t take long.”

  Jared looked like he was about to say something, but Zira put a hand on his arm and stood up from the table. “I’ll be right back,” she said, then followed Seth to a more secluded area in the cafeteria.

  “Sorry to interrupt your meal,” Seth said, raising his arm to examine something on his CyberLink. His fingers darted across the screen in a sort of calculated dance. “This will only take a few minutes.”

  Zira folded her arms. “No problem.”

  Seth brought up a holographic display over his CL and held it out to Zira. Her stomach dropped when she recognized the face of Arion Dreyfus, the successful businessman and drug lord she’d assassinated over a month ago. How Seth had managed to find out about it—and how he’d managed to connect her with Dreyfus—Zira had no idea. She tried to conceal just how much it unnerved her as she stared at the three-dimensional projection of Dreyfus’ face hovering there above his arm.

  Seth looked at her with an intent expression, eyes narrowed and flitting across her face as if waiting for some sign that she knew what this was. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction. She raised an eyebrow—a question.

  “You know who he is,” Seth said.

  Still unsure of just how much Seth thought he knew, Zira decided it was best not to play dumb. “Arion Dreyfus, former CEO of Dreyfus Pharmaceuticals.”

  “Former,” Seth emphasized. “He was killed several weeks ago.”

  “I know.” Dreyfus’ death had been on the news, if only for a short time, so it would have been pointless to pretend she was surprised by his passing.

  Seth’s eyes narrowed even further. “He also ran a pretty big drug smuggling operation.”

  “Really?” Zira said. “Well then why hadn’t your people caught him and put him in a labor camp where he belonged?” She knew she shouldn’t provoke him, but she couldn’t resist the jab. It was often E-1’s worst unresolved cases that Ryku drew on when giving assignments; E-2 operatives did the dirty work when the E-1s hit a dead end.

  Seth lifted his chin and clenched a fist. “We tried—we just couldn’t find the evidence. If the jury hadn’t been so afraid of him…” He straightened, seeming to regain composure as he set his mouth in a long, thin line. He tapped the screen of his CL again. Dreyfus’ face was replaced with footage from a security camera at the airport in Amarillo. Zira recognized herself striding across the camera’s view. “That’s you,” Seth said.

  “Obviously.”

  “You got on a plane to Los Angeles.”

  “And?”

  “Dreyfus was murdered at his home just outside LA.”

  Zira said nothing, her expression deadpan as she waited for Seth to continue. Let him come out and say what he was thinking; she wasn’t going to incriminate herself.

  “What were you doing there?”

  “I was on an assignment.”

  “Right. And what was the nature of your assignment?”

  “I told you before. If you have questions about my file or my assignments, you’ll have to talk to Ryku.”

  The holographic interface vanished as Seth lowered his arm. “I think you had something to do with Dreyfus’ death,” he said.

  “What, just because we were in the same city at the same time? It’s a big city, and that’s a big conclusion to jump to.”

  Seth pursed his lips. “So young and new, but you’re already just like the rest of them. You think you can bypass the law because you’re only taking out the trash. And to hell with anyone who tries to tell you you’re wrong.”

  Before Zira could respond, Seth turned and walked away.

  Zira returned to her table and sat down beside Jared. Though she did her best to maintain an expression of neutrality, Aubreigh—of course—sensed that something was wrong. “You okay?” she asked.

  “Fine.” Zira’s voice was a little harsher than she’d intended, but she was irritated at Aubreigh for having welcomed the enemy with open arms, even if it had been unintentional. She pointedly avoided looking at her friend’s hurt expression and speared her wilted green beans with her fork. “That guy is way too clever for his own good.”

  “Meaning what?” Jared said.

  Zira glanced between the two of them. As much as she wanted to tell Jared what Seth had shown her, she couldn’t discuss it now. Not in front of Aubreigh. “He just knows things he shouldn’t.”

  Across the table, Aubreigh frowned. “Isn’t that the whole point of this investigation? They’re supposed to find out what the other units are hiding. Maybe if E-2 wasn’t so secretive—”

  Zira rolled her eyes. It always came back to the same argument. “We’ve been over this.”

  “Yes, but your unit makes it really hard for the rest of us to trust you when you won’t tell us anything about what you’re doing. We’re all in this together, right? We all want the same thing. So why all the secrets?”

  “It’s a necessary part of our work.”

  Aubreigh let out a cold, humorless chuckle. “Well that’s convenient, isn’t it? You’re hiding something, but it’s necessary, so I guess that makes it okay?”

  “Yeah, it does,” Zira said.

  “That’s a really shady excuse, you know that?”

  No matter how many times they’d had this conversation, Aubreigh still didn’t get it. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “No, I don’t. Because my best friend won’t tell me anything that really matters.”

  The words cu
t Zira deeper than she’d expected. “I can’t—you know that! And I think it’s ridiculous of you to keep bringing it up.”

  “Yeah?” Aubreigh seized her tray and stood up. “Well I think it’s ridiculous that we’ve been friends this long when you won’t even talk to me.”

  Zira dug her fingers into her knees under the table as she watched Aubreigh storm off, then noticed Jared sitting beside her as if he’d just appeared. He was arranging the silverware on his empty tray and looking supremely uncomfortable. Zira shook her head and pushed her own tray aside, no longer hungry. “Sorry about that,” she said. “She’s always been curious about what I do.”

  Jared nodded. “She probably knows more than you think she does. Most of them do. Or they guess, at least. Aubreigh’s smart. I’m sure she’s put some of the pieces together by now.”

  “So why make such a big deal out of it if she already knows?” Zira asked, but even as Jared shrugged in response, she thought she knew the answer. Aubreigh wanted to hear it from Zira herself. They’d known each other since before they were old enough to remember and had been inseparable until the Project placed them in different units. Since then, the different colored bands around their arms had put a small rift between them, but they were still best friends. Aubreigh likely took Zira’s refusal to confide in her as a personal insult.

  When they were done eating, Jared and Zira walked outside together. It was their last day working with the recruits and they were headed to the shooting range. As they carried weapons from the training center to the truck, Zira told him about Dreyfus and Seth’s suspicion that Zira had something to do with his death.

  “Like I told you before,” Jared said, “you shouldn’t worry about it too much.”

  “But why is he looking into Dreyfus specifically?”

  Jared shrugged. “I don’t know, but I don’t think anything’s going to come of it. He’s just making guesses. Seriously, Zira—stop worrying about Seth. He’ll be gone by the end of the day anyway.”

  That, at least, was something to look forward to.

  * * *

  Once they’d returned from the shooting range, Zira accompanied Jared back to his apartment. Ryku had sent out new assignments today and she wanted to see if they’d received one. Jared unlocked the door and swung it wide. An unmarked folder lay on the floor. Zira snatched it up before he could and threw herself on his couch. He sat down beside her, so close that their arms brushed as Zira opened the file. Warmth fluttered across her skin where they’d touched.

  She pulled an unusually thick stack of papers from the file. The top ones were photos, and she spread them out on the table in front of them. There were nine portraits of nine different people, the kind local law enforcement often took to put in their criminal databases. There were also several pictures that showed a large building from multiple angles and what appeared to be the same people going in and out. “Are they all targets?” Zira asked, glancing through the rest of the papers in her hands.

  Jared leaned over so he could read the pages, too. “It looks that way,” he said. “They’re radicals.”

  She’d learned about the people the Project called radicals during her training. Their specific motives varied individually, but they all seemed to believe that the PEACE Project was too controlling or otherwise unjust. In the worst cases, they started riots and attempted to take up arms against the Project; thankfully, units P and E-1 always managed to shut them down before they got out of hand. Most of them simply attempted to get off the Project’s grid, either defecting to other countries or just hiding out somewhere in America beyond the Project’s reach. The nine radicals in their mission file appeared to be doing just that, having taken refuge in an abandoned factory that was dangerously close to a nuclear fallout zone.

  “Why not just have E-1 arrest them and send them to a labor camp or something?” she asked.

  “They already have. Look here.” Jared pulled out one of the papers in Zira’s hands. “Six of these people have been arrested for protesting before and managed to escape the labor camps. They’re also smuggling weapons out of that old factory, so they’re either planning some kind of uprising or trading the weapons to criminals. Either way, we can’t allow it.”

  “So they’re armed,” Zira said. “And there are nine of them. This isn’t going to be easy.”

  “They’re also untrained and inexperienced. We’ll be fine. I’ve still got your back.”

  They looked through the remainder of the file, discussed their options, and carefully studied the layout of the factory. Outside, dusk turned to night as the hours passed by. They’d missed dinner, which had ended hours ago, and Jared got up to get them something to drink.

  Zira stretched out on the couch, looking at the photos of their targets one by one. Her eyelids drooped and the faces began to blur together. She should go home soon. She should have gone home a long time ago, but the couch was so comfortable. Just a few more minutes. Then she’d say goodnight to Jared, go home, and go to bed. She continued to flip through the photos.

  Moments later, she drifted off to sleep.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Jared watched the sleeping girl on his couch with a smile as he tied his shoelaces. She looked so peaceful there in the morning sunlight, just as she had last night. He hadn’t wanted to wake her and had instead lifted her feet onto the couch and draped a blanket over her shoulders before retiring to his own bed. Now, he shook her shoulder gently. “Zira, wake up.”

  Her eyes fluttered open and her eyebrows drew together in confusion for a moment as she glanced around at her surroundings. Finally, her gaze settled on his face. “Sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep here.”

  “It’s all right. I didn’t want to wake you. You looked comfortable.”

  She yawned, sat up, and stretched her arms. “I was. Your couch is fantastic.”

  “It’s the same as yours.”

  “Yeah, but this one is better.”

  He chuckled. “Let’s go eat. I’m starving.”

  “Sure. Just let me use your bathroom real quick.”

  She came out looking less disheveled than before and they walked outside. “Did we ever figure out when we want to leave?” Zira asked.

  She was talking about the assignment. “We can leave whenever you want,” Jared said. “We’re driving, so there’s no flight schedule to worry about.”

  “I think I just want a couple days to practice with the grenades,” said Zira. “I’ve never had to use them before.”

  They’d decided that infiltrating the building from two separate entry points would be their best option, but they were still outnumbered, even if their opponents were untrained. Each of them planned to carry a few stun and smoke grenades to give them an extra advantage over the radicals. “Sure,” he said. “We can run some simulations after breakfast, if you want.”

  Aubreigh sat with another group of friends in the cafeteria that morning, though if Zira noticed—and Jared was sure she did—she pretended not to care. After that, they spent most of the day running hologram simulations in the E-2 training facility. They did the same thing the day after, and the following night, Zira said she felt like she was ready. They decided to leave the next morning.

  After loading all of their equipment into the car, they started driving. Their destination was a remote ghost town called Medvale on the eastern side of the South Central Region, another forgotten victim of the war. When both sides started using robots to do the fighting, things had gotten ugly for civilians. Bots were supposed to be able to distinguish soldiers from ordinary citizens, but they’d never been particularly good at it. Most of Medvale’s population had been employed at a nearby computer parts factory that had been converted to manufacture weapons for the military during the war. The RA had sent in the bots to destroy the factory, but they’d taken out the rest of the town in the process. Now, it was just another ruin, as bleak as the landscape that surrounded it.

  It was late in the afternoon wh
en they arrived, and they wanted to wait until dark to fly a drone over the factory for surveillance. The information from their mission file was less than a week old and showed two months’ worth of fairly consistent behavior, but Jared still thought it would be a good idea to get a quick look at the area before moving in. Surveilling the place themselves, however, would only give the radicals an unnecessary opportunity to find out he and Zira were there, and with so many armed hostiles inside, they needed to catch their targets off guard. They didn’t dare go near the building until it was time to strike, so the drone was a good solution. Get in, do the job as efficiently as possible, and get out. That was their objective here.

  They found a creaky old house with a garage that had been left open and parked the car inside. “We should try to get some rest while we wait,” Jared suggested. There were still several hours until dark.

  “You go ahead,” said Zira. “I’ll keep an eye on things and wake you up when it’s time.”

  Jared agreed and leaned back in his seat. The car was cramped, especially for a person his size, but he’d learned to be comfortable just about anywhere and fell asleep in minutes. When he woke up, night had fallen. He looked around for Zira and saw her out the rear window, sitting on the trunk of the car with the drone controller in her hands. Jared glanced at his CL for the time. 8:47 P.M. He rubbed his face and got out of the car.

  “You didn’t wake me up,” he said, jumping up on the trunk to sit beside Zira. He tried to find the drone in the night sky, but couldn’t see it anywhere.

  “I was going to. Just wanted to set this thing up first.” She studied the video on the controller for a few more seconds, then brought the drone down to rest on the ground in front of them. She passed him the controller. “You want to do the honors?”

  “Sure.” He lifted the drone into the air again and sent it towards the factory. A shadowed landscape flew by beneath the drone as it passed over crumbling houses and old, rusted cars.

 

‹ Prev