An attacker could also hit the front side of the jaw, whipping the head back and causing the neck to break or hit the small of the back, snapping the spine. We worked on life-like dummies. Near the end of class, we also learned the classic move they show on TV a lot where the attacker grabs the mouth and the back of the skull and twists the head with a sudden, violent jerk.
Out of nowhere, Sterling showed up in his pinstriped black suit. Instead of orange hair and accents, fluorescent blue attacked us all. He walked straight up to me and people stopped what they were doing to watch and listen.
“How’s it going today, Misha?” he asked.
I stiffened. He remembered my name. This was exactly what I wanted, to have him take notice of me, but I just stood and stared, a deep cold starting in my feet. His eyes were so dark, soulless. “Good, thanks,” I finally answered.
“Show me the temple kill.”
I turned to the dummy and demonstrated it, my heart hammering in my chest and my breathing erratic.
“How about the summit kill?”
I did that too, slowly gaining control of my racing heart.
“Pretty good,” he said. “Let’s move on to breaking the dummy’s back.”
I did. I was able to breathe normally now.
“And can you snap his neck?”
I did that move, calmly, in complete control.
“Fabulous, Misha. Just fabulous. Now I’d like you to do the skull jerk on me.”
I turned and looked at him in a sharp, fast movement. My heart sped up and my breathing turned quick and shallow. This was the moment I had been waiting for, and I didn’t even have to wait long. My heart sang. I wanted to shout out, Yahoo! He was giving himself to me to kill. I could accommodate him. But of course, it couldn’t be that easy. He was up to something. I readied myself in fighting stance.
Several things happened at once but in slow motion. I noticed about ten men, around the area but nowhere close, that hadn’t been there before. They all held rifles trained on me. I also saw the crowd that had formed around us. Their eyes and stance told me to beware. They loved this man. How had he inspired love? Was it Stockholm syndrome? Were these kids so neglected at home that they adored him? Did they believe that this was a far better world for them than what they had had before? He had given them a sense of purpose, of belonging. They felt safe and protected, and all their needs were provided for. I stepped back, relaxing.
No, I couldn’t kill him. He was too beloved. Sure there were some eyes egging me on, begging me to do it, to just kill him. But I knew if I did, I would die, too, and then one of Sterling’s lackeys would take over for him. No, killing him now would accomplish only my death. I would have to wait. I would have to sneak out and bring reinforcements with me. These kids would need serious psychological help after what Sterling put them through. They may never be the same. My chest burned, and I knew I’d come to the correct conclusion. I would spare him now because they loved him. I took a second step back.
It had been less than half a minute, but Sterling had caught my hesitation. “Why did you hesitate?” His smile was broad. He had done this to teach me. To teach me that they loved him and would kill for him, that I had no choice but to bend my will to him. I couldn’t believe he was asking me this in front of everyone. What if our conversation hadn’t ended in his favor? He must know he would win, or he wouldn’t be challenging me here.
Something in my head told me to be honest, so I was. “I realized these people love you. They’re loyal to you. And if I were to kill you, I would accomplish nothing. Your legacy would live on, and I would be dead. I’m incapable of taking on a hundred of your supporters or your snipers.” I stared right into his eyes, showing my hatred of him.
He chuckled. “I knew you were special the moment I got the call that you were being tracked by someone other than me. I knew you’d understand why I gave you the opportunity to do your heart’s desire.”
It took all my concentration not to grab at my arm where Division 57 had put my tracker. That would give me away for sure. No, I had to pretend I didn’t know about the tracker. I didn’t dare look away. He knew about it and still kept me alive? Why? I let shock and terror enter my eyes. “What are you talking about?” I cried. “I’m not being tracked.” I made my eyes scrunch together, adding confusion to my look.
He raised his eyebrows. “You claim not to have known?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I let anger enter.
“When my men retrieved you and you were unconscious, they inserted a tracker in your upper arm in the area you now have your brand.”
“What? I have a tracker in my arm? What are you saying?” I was trying to act as if I was on the verge of hysteria. I pulled my arm up and looked at my brand. It was still tender, but I poked at it anyway. I wondered if my infection came from their little ‘surgery.’
“When our tracker failed to work once inserted, they figured it was a dud tracker and made an incision to retrieve it. And guess what they found, not one tracker, but two. Somehow their signals shorted each other out. They fried each other. That made things a bit more interesting, you see. It made it so that we couldn’t figure out who it was that had been tracking you before us. So, be a good girl and spill the beans.”
He wanted to make an example of me, here in front of everyone. He wanted to root out a traitor while everyone looked on. Is this what had happened to the other agents from Division who had failed? Had Sterling discovered their treachery and killed them?
“You know what I think?” I said. “I think you’re a liar. No one was tracking me. Why would anyone track me?” I was freaking out inside. My Division 57 tracker had been removed, and now I was being tracked by Sterling. All my hopes for intermittent signals were lost. How would I ever get away? Jeremy definitely had no idea where I was. They had removed Division’s tracker on the helicopter. I couldn’t hope for Jeremy to find me now. His words on the jet came back to me. What if something goes wrong when you’re kidnapped, and I can’t find you? Things happen all the time and even to very seasoned agents. It has nothing to do with my belief in you. Things just go wrong. Things had gone wrong, and I was completely and totally alone.
“That is the question isn’t it?” He tilted his head to the side and stared hard at me.
I tried to look confused, angry, and scared all at once. It helped that I was already angry and scared. All I could hope for was that he would think someone had put the tracker in me without my knowledge.
“Well, no matter,” he said. “You’re clean now, and your tracker is working just fine.” He smiled a maniacal smile. “One day you will confide in me because you will discover that I have your best interests in mind. Together we all make a difference.”
A loud chant arose from those around us. The chant they had recited when we were inducted into this group. “A world without smut. A world without indecision. A world without lawlessness. A world without greed.” His brainwashing had been very effective with these kids.
“I expect great things from you,” Sterling said. “I’m sure you won’t disappoint.” He was so direct. So out there. I knew why he wanted to do this to me in front of everyone, but why did he want his soldiers to witness it? Was he trying to make them wary of me? I would need to be bold with him. He waved me into a copse of trees, away from the crowd. The instructors told everyone to get back to work. Why did he now want me alone?
I tried not to freak out, or think that he was leading me away to murder me without witnesses. I knew that was irrational. He thought I was interesting and wanted me to stay around. I had to open and close my hands repeatedly to get rid of some of my nervous energy as I followed him. Once we were out of earshot of the others, he said, “I know it’s frightening; you’re not sure whom to trust. One thing’s for certain. I will not hurt you.”
He wouldn’t, but one of his lackeys would. And there was that collar.
“I’m here to help you achieve your potential while giving yo
u the greatest adrenaline rush you’ve ever experienced. I’m here to make your life full. You were chosen because you have great physical strength, you’re a quick thinker, and you’re creative. Only the best are chosen for this program. You should feel honored to be here. I can’t wait to see what you accomplish. I see great things in your future.”
Fire licked my throat, and I wanted to protest, but I held it in.
“That was pretty impressive back there. Most kids would have let their anger overtake them because they don’t understand what’s going on. You demonstrated great control, and control of anger in this profession is as important as air is to life. When I look for the elite, I have to weed out those who don’t quite fit. You survived the weeding process. Four of you from the eight. That is phenomenal, really. Congratulations, you are one of the elite. Houston appears to be a natural. He never questions anything and always does his best. Beyond his best. But does he have control? Only time will tell.”
I could imagine Houston puffing up and standing a bit taller had he been here to accept the praise.
“Frankie, on the other hand, is going to take a while to come around. She is the simmering type, while Houston is a constant hard-boil. I’m not sure about Duncan, yet. I don’t think he’s sure either. He’s somewhere in between those two.”
“Why are you telling me all this?” I spat.
“I observed you in the lab today,” he continued, ignoring my question.
I had to pretend that my insides weren’t quaking right now.
“I could see that I could count on you to be one of my best soldiers. I saw how quickly you absorbed the information. Yes, we are fighting a war, and we will conquer. I think we should work together for the good of the people. Stop viewing me as your enemy. Together we can conquer faster.”
Was he trying to appeal to my desire for power?
“So, are you ready for some friendly sparring?” He smiled and waggled his eyebrows.
I raised mine.
“I haven’t had a good opponent in a while. Let’s see if you can take me. We won’t truly hurt each other.”
“I don’t think I could stop in time, sir.”
“Good, honest answer,” he said. “You have my attention, Misha.”
We sat in silence for an awkward minute with him looking me over. He moved closer and put his hand on my upper arm. I wanted to grab him, throw him to the ground, and break his neck.
“I think we could be good friends if you’d open your mind and see the big picture. In fact, why don’t you come Monday morning for breakfast, six sharp, and we’ll discuss it? I’ll convince you that we are here to make the world a better place.”
He patted my arm before removing his hand. It made me feel like throwing up. Acid burned in my throat.
“I’m just not into the whole, let’s-kill-everybody-because-they’re-bad idea. I don’t kill, period.”
“On the contrary, my dear, you already have.”
The face of the karate master from the circus tent appeared vividly in my mind. Everything about her was seared into my memory, especially the sound of her voice as she’d pled for mercy. She’d said she’d had chemo, that she had a family. The horror of what I’d had to do washed over me. But I’d had to do it—if I hadn’t, not only would I have been killed, but I would have let Sterling continue his reign of terror unchecked. It was his fault that woman had died. Still, the memory of the knife in my hand, and the blood seeping out, sent a shiver of revulsion and shame through me.
“No!” I growled, low and angry. “You did that. You killed that woman!”
“Yes, it was very realistic wasn’t it?” Sterling continued.
“Realistic—what—?” I stammered. What was he saying?
“Well, after all, we did go to great effort to make it appear so. I’m sure it even felt real to you, didn’t it? Hmm, yes. But the fighters were wearing body suits that were triggered when the knife, a stage prop, hit the suit,” he grinned wickedly, clearly taking pleasure in the diabolical nature of his ruse. “You see, when the blade hit your opponent’s body, it retracted. At the same time, a needle protruded. The needle does two things, it punctures the knife suit, and it immobilizes the victim. Oh, and for the selections, blood seeps from the handle of the prop knife. Very convincing, very realistic.”
His words washed over me like an ocean wave, and I gasped for air, trying to make sense of what he was telling me.
“You mean—she’s alive?” I whispered, barely daring to hope he could be telling the truth. “But why? Why would you do that? You kidnapped those people! You took them away from their families, all for what? Some game, to make us believe we were murdering innocent people?”
“They may have appeared innocent to you, but the reality is that they were the worst of offenders. I am merciful. I gave them a reprieve,” he paused, looking me over, as if deciding what would be the best way to explain it to me. As if any explanation could sway my opinion of him. “Someone as intelligent as you—I’m sure you’ve heard of trial by battle? The accused are given the chance to prove their purity through combat. A test, to see if their repentance is complete. If the good Lord felt they had paid their dues, they would be victorious. A few were, weren’t they? The others? Guilty as charged, and now they can receive just punishment.”
“But what about my friends?”
“They’re fine, just fine. Well, all but one. He’s still fighting for his life. My vote is on him.”
My eyes must have been the size of golf balls. “Is Lunden alive, then? Did you not feed him to the lions?” I asked.
He chuckled. “No, no. None of your friends received such a fate. We will put them to good use. They are very much alive.”
I gaped. Was he lying to me? Was it possible they were all alive and well somewhere? The thought made my heart race with wild hope. Maybe I could still save them.
“I’m a bit disappointed you hadn’t already figured that out, Misha. So ready to believe what your eyes tell you. That makes me wonder, though, what kind of a person do you think I am?”
“A mad one.”
“Good answer. Sometimes I do see myself as mad. I guess there’s one thing I can count on from you, and that’s honesty, no matter how brutal it seems.”
What was he doing talking about brutality?
“Understand, though” he said. “All the kills we do are necessary. Justice demands it.”
“And what if I don’t want to murder people? I don’t want to be the judge.”
“You’re not the judge. I am. You execute the orders of the judge. You get it, execute? Sometimes I crack myself up. You’ll see, you’ll come around. Go back to your fighting. Become the best and don’t settle for less.” Then he walked away, turning back only to say, “Monday. Breakfast. 6:00. My dining hall. Follow the forks and the knives.” He threw his head back and laughed.
I didn’t know what to think. I went back and was both mad and pleased. Mad that my tracker was gone and happy that Sterling seemed to be enamored with me. Pleased also that my friends were alive, and I hadn’t killed that woman with cancer. None of us had killed anyone. Mad that he had tricked us like that.
My plan was working, Sterling wanted me to work with him, but how could I escape when my tracker was gone and Sterling’s tracker was inside me? I’d have to find a way to remove it before I got out of here. Ian popped into my head, and I wondered if I’d ever see him here. He probably didn’t dare show his face. Not after what he’d done. Or was he truly heartless and watched us all on monitors, laughing at us like Sterling?
After class, Frankie whispered with a ton of agitation about what had happened with Sterling the whole way back to the lunchroom.
“Way to go. Bring attention to all of us.” She swore colorfully. “He’s going to make our lives miserable.”
“No, he isn’t.” I said. “He said he’s impressed with me.”
“Why you?” Houston said, coming up behind me. “Why are you the one he’s impressed with?”
“I don’t know,” I said.
“I brought down six people in fighting class in under three minutes, and Sterling didn’t notice because you stole the limelight.”
“Houston, I don’t want any kind of limelight. You go ahead and take it. Grab it. Own it. Run with it. Go ahead and murder as many people as you want, because I won’t.” I knew I was being harsh but I couldn’t help myself.
“Then you’re just stupid,” he scoffed.
“Then don’t think of me as a threat then. Go and be the best assassin you can be. Just leave me be.”
“Well, maybe one day I’ll get the okay to take you out. What then?” He smirked.
“I don’t know why you’d wanna do that.”
“’Cause this is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I love this place. I totally belong here. I’ll never go back to my dad, never. Maybe I’ll get approval to assassinate him.”
“Don’t say that, Houston. I can see that you feel like you belong, but don’t go after your dad. Everybody sees that you’ll have an itty bitty learning curve and be an amazing assassin. So just let your dad be, and let me be. Let me not be an assassin.” Deep down I felt truly bad for him. His home life had been so terrible, he saw Sterling as an angel, delivering him from evil.
Some guys came up from behind us and enticed Houston away from us, screaming and shouting about how rocking tonight was going to be.
Frankie was still next to me. “I just hate that you have a target on your back.”
“Don’t say that. I don’t believe it, and you shouldn’t either.” Is that why Sterling did his little stunt in front of all those people? Did he want me to have a target on my back?
Adrenaline Rush Page 15
