The White List

by Nina D'Aleo

  “She’s not going to stop, is she?” I said.

  “No,” Rocco said.

  “Why don’t you stop her—like your people did with her assassins?”

  “She’s smarter than they were. She positions herself out of range or in public places. I’d have to use my abilities and I can’t do that. We can’t alert the person who has hired her that you are involved with us. We have to assume they are inside the company and that they may be connected to the Horseman.”

  I nodded. It made sense. A horrible, twisted, confused sense. I really really didn’t want to go down to the office.

  “Can you change your appearance to an agent and come with me?” I asked, as a last desperate idea.

  “If we could do that, we wouldn’t need you,” Rocco reminded me, his voice calm and patient. “The Horseman would know. Pope won’t risk hitting you in the office, but he is down there. Don’t forget that.”

  A chill ran along my back. “Are we sure it’s a he?”

  Rocco shook his head. “It could be anyone—male or female.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Eric enter the building. His eyes went straight to us as though we were magnetic.

  “My supervisor,” I whispered.

  I looked up at Rocco and found his face inches from mine. He kissed me on the lips.

  It was just a Goodbye, Have a Good Day kiss—nothing pornographic, but still I felt slightly weak at the knees and couldn’t help regretting that I hadn’t brushed my teeth for the last two days. To pretend to be a couple as a cover made sense, I just hadn’t been expecting it.

  Rocco hugged me against him and whispered in my ear, “Get this right and we may still have a chance to stop the Horseman. Don’t, and I’ll be dead, you’ll be dead, everyone you know and care about—dead. This world as it is will be gone. Find the List, Silver.” He let me go and stepped back.

  “No pressure or anything,” I muttered.

  I turned away, feeling Rocco’s eyes on my back as I walked to the elevator. I couldn’t bring myself to smile at Norm today, for which he seemed sincerely relieved.

  I stepped into the elevator. On the outside I maintained my professional front, on the inside I was running around and around in circles screaming. I’d always wanted to feel like I was doing more of worth in my work and suddenly ‘saving the world’ was part of my job description. Be careful what you wish for.

  20

  Agents blurred around me—speeding up then slowing down. Faces leaped into focus for a moment’s scrutiny then vanished. Everyone familiar now seemed sinister. I noted every twitch of their mouths, every shift of their eyes, every hair out of place—or not. They spoke to me but their words were lost. I just kept nodding, hoping I was giving the appropriate response. Hoping I wasn’t blowing my cover in the first few seconds of the game. Any of them could be the Horseman or one of his soldiers. Trouble was we were all agents—all professional liars, to our friends, to our families, everyone around us—and we all looked suspicious to a certain extent. How could I differentiate between the normal shadiness and the unnatural kind? I reached my desk and sank into the chair. I avoided looking at the photographs of my family and Dark. An impromptu crying session wouldn’t help anything now.

  Jovic and Feng had photocopied yesterday’s Op Services night-shift reports for me and put them in my in-tray. I snatched them up and read through. The executive summary—everyone was hunting for clues on Omen and no one was finding anything. Many of the agents from my division were out in the field investigating leads or working normal walt cases; a few were on desk duty, sorting out incoming updates and compiling reports, like I was supposed to be doing. For once I wasn’t upset about being held back. Being stationed external to Headquarters would have made the search for the List all the more difficult.

  I glanced over toward Twentyman’s office and saw Eric skulking around outside the door. I wondered what, if anything, he’d had to do with the bounty on my head—had it actually come from Twentyman or from someone beyond him—maybe even the Horseman himself?

  On the way down in the elevator, I’d resolved my decision to start the search for the List in Twenty’s office. The question now was how was I going to get in and if, by some miracle, I managed that, how was I going to get access to his computer files? I’d have to know his password, plus somehow bypass the Shake security. Both impossibilities—but one question at a time—first—how to get in?

  I took the cell phone Rocco had given me out of my pocket and, keeping the screen half hidden beneath the photocopies, I opened the security blueprint of Headquarters. A cluster of surveillance cameras was positioned right outside Twentyman’s office. Nothing inside though, which didn’t surprise me. The man was so arrogant he would think everyone else needed to be watched, but not him, or maybe there was another reason he didn’t want anyone keeping tabs on him—a Horseman reason. Someone cleared their throat behind me and I jumped out of my chair, reeling around. Byter stared at me, his eyes wide, two cups of coffee held out in front of him as though to fend off an attack.

  “Sorry,” I forced a laugh. “Just a little bit on edge here.”

  “No, I’m sorry.” He gave an equally uncomfortable laugh. “Shouldn’t have snuck up on you.”

  I dropped back down into my chair, slipping the cell into my pocket. It was still logged into the blueprint and sat like a brick against my side. Byter perched on the edge of my desk and placed one of the coffee cups down in front of me.

  “Thanks,” I murmured. I looked up at my friend. He was wearing the same clothes as yesterday and had purple blotches under his eyes and crumbs of something in his beard—that tragic beard.

  “We’re in crisis and you still can’t stop thinking about my beard,” he said, a hint of a smile curving his lips. “It mesmerizes you, doesn’t it?”

  “Something like that,” I replied.

  His face grew serious again. “Any news on Dark? I keep ringing the hospital but they won’t tell me squat because I’m not family.”

  “They said this morning that he’s awake. I couldn’t talk to him either because he was with the doctor.”

  “At least he’s awake again.” Byter’s tired eyes brightened.

  And I remembered what Rocco had said about the people who trusted me being my biggest asset. It gave me an idea. “Byter, I know you’re crazy busy, but do you think you can help me?” I asked. “My Shake doesn’t seem to be working.” I prodded the security device on my desk.

  “Oh.” He picked it up and turned it over. “Sure, I’ll just run a few tests and see what’s up.”

  I watched him as closely as I could without being obvious as he took a device with five prongs out of his pocket. He inserted it into my Shake and the login box popped up; he typed in my name, codename and an override password. I watched his fingers as they moved across the keyboard—it looked like 4124squeakandbubble. My computer files appeared on the screen. He clicked on a few generic applications before logging out.

  “Seems to be okay now,” he said. “Might have just been a glitch.”

  He took the pronged device out of the Shake and said, “Try it now.”

  I did and went straight into my files.

  “Thanks,” I said, eyeing the device as he pushed it back into his jacket pocket.

  “No problemo,” Byter replied. “By the way I’m definitely still working on clearing the footage of the attack—I won’t give up.”

  “Thanks, Byter, I really appreciate it.”

  “Anything for you,” he said and punched my arm lightly. I noticed there was something a bit “close” about the way he was looking at me. Maybe I was dreaming it, but I was getting a vibe from him.

  “How did you go with the other skipped footage?” he asked, breaking the moment.

  “It just seemed completely random,” I lied.

  “That’s what I thought too,” he said. He looked up at the sound of approaching voices and smiled. Jovic and Feng were arguing their way toward us, and by Jovi
c’s reddened face and strained neck veins, I guessed he was losing the debate. As soon as they saw us, the conversation was over.

  Feng came over and gave my shoulders a quick massage and asked, “How is he?”

  “Awake,” I said.

  “Told you he’d be fine.” Jovic gave me a friendly nudge. “Man of steel. Just like me.” He flexed a bulbous bicep. Feng scrunched up her face at him.

  “You love it,” he teased her.

  “Not me,” she replied. “I prefer my men more like Byter.”

  “Pleasingly trim,” Byter said.

  “Skinny like a girl,” she said.

  “Great—I’ll just be in the bathroom—crying.” Byter pretended to walk away and she laughed and dragged him back.

  “Thanks for the copies,” I told her, holding up the reports.

  “It’s nothing,” she said, then leaned in so close I could smell her jasmine perfume. “Don’t say anything to anyone yet, but guess who’s about to move on up—Supervising Manager—Medical Division?”

  I looked at her and raised my eyebrows and she nodded. A few days earlier and I would have just been happy for a friend, but now my skin prickled with unease—Medical Division was where the Horseman’s soldiers re-capped all the walts—how could she become part of Medical if she wasn’t herself a Shaman? The thought shook me. This wasn’t some random person; this was one of my closest friends, I’d shared a desk with her for years—and maybe she was now reading my mind. I panicked and tried to think of something to block her. Instead of reciting the alphabet, I started to think about sex. Maybe it was normal human instinct to jump there, or maybe I just had a dirty mind? I glanced up at Feng. She was checking her phone messages.

  “Well I’d better get going,” Byter said, giving us a wave. “Us girly boys are in high demand.”

  “Stop sulking,” Feng said. She sat down at her desk and opened her computer.

  I took the opportunity to run after Byter. “Hey,” I said, taking his shoulder. He turned and I hugged onto him, pulling him close.

  “I just wanted to say thanks for everything.” I squeezed him tight against my body with one hand while the other reached into his pocket and extracted the Shake override—distraction, misdirection—whatever—I had it. I slipped it into my pocket and stepped back, leaving him a little flushed.

  He muttered, “Of course, anything for you.” He gulped a bit and I felt like Judas—big time.

  “See you soon,” I said and went back to my chair.

  Feng immediately leaned over and whispered, “What’s going on?”

  “Nothing,” I replied.

  She rolled her eyes. “We really have to get you a man. It’s been way too long. I need some gossip here.”

  I faked a smile and glanced again at Twentyman’s door. Now I had a way into his computer, but I still had to get into his office to get to the computer. A thought came to me. If the Shaman rebels could blur the C11 surveillance cameras around the city and splice in old footage to mask their comings and goings, maybe they could do the same with the cameras inside Headquarters as well—surely they’d already thought of that. I had to speak to Rocco. I massaged the ache behind my eyes and Feng said, “Have you still got a headache? Did you get a scan at the hospital after the attack?”

  I shook my head.

  “You should go get one—seriously,” she said, her face creased with worry. “I knew a girl who fell off her horse, got a headache and died that night. You need to get scanned.”

  “I will, I promise,” I said. “After. For now—I’ll just grab some water. Back in a sec.”

  I headed for the bathroom, not the one closest to the office, the one further down the hall. It was always empty because no one could be bothered walking that far unless they wanted the extra privacy. I always went there. Being extremely smell sensitive, I would walk an extra mile to go to a clean bathroom. I walked in and did a check of the cubicles before choosing one and locking the door. I sat down on the closed toilet seat. There wasn’t supposed to be surveillance in the bathrooms, but we weren’t supposed to be torturing and murdering people either. I opted to keep the cover going. I pressed the red button on the cell phone Rocco had given me. He answered and I put on a New Relationship voice.

  “Hey, how are you?”

  He waited and I continued, “Yeah I’m okay … but you know how I was going to go into that store and buy that present for my brother’s birthday—well I just had a thought that maybe he’ll see me if I go this afternoon, so I was just wondering if you could … obscure his vision somehow?”

  The message was so cryptic I doubted Rocco would get what I was talking about, but he answered straight away, “We can’t interfere with surveillance inside Headquarters without attracting the Horseman’s attention, but I can make a diversion that will get your boss to leave his office. You’re talking about Twentyman, aren’t you?”

  “That’s right,” I said.

  “So if you can get into his office, I can get him out—at least for a few minutes.”

  “What path do you think I could take to get in without my brother seeing me?” I asked.

  “Have you thought about just making an appointment with him?”

  No I hadn’t, but I should have—I’d been having all kinds of visions of mission impossible break-ins, when I could just walk in.

  “How will you know when to distract Benicio if I can’t signal you?” I asked.

  “You can—just press the red button as you’re going into the office and that will signal me,” he said.

  “Great. Thank you—bye—love you,” I said.

  “Noted,” Rocco replied. Something about his voice said he was smiling.

  I hung up and left the bathroom, taking a direct path to the alcove beside Twentyman’s office, where his fierce guard-dog PA, Agent Kenealy, sat behind her desk. She glanced up over her glasses as I approached, and a look of exasperation spread over her flabby-jowled face—as though I’d just farted on my hand and was trying to make her smell it. I didn’t appreciate the look—in fact I felt like telling her to shove it. Her level of gruff unpleasantness was totally inappropriate, but I controlled myself. Kenealy was the gatekeeper to Twenty and getting in depended on her.

  “Yes?” she demanded as I stopped in front of her desk.

  “Good morning, Agent Kenealy.” I used her last name instead of her codename, which was an unwritten way of paying respect to a senior operative—though I actually outranked her. “I have something very urgent to discuss with Agent Twentyman regarding … ” I hadn’t figured out what my cover story was. I swallowed and Kenealy narrowed her eyes. “ … the Omen investigation.”

  Kenealy turned back to her computer and recited in a bored monotone, “He’s in meetings all day. Send me an email and I’ll forward it to him if I think it’s relevant.”

  I reined in my rising anger. I felt like head-butting the woman. Instead I made my tone sugary sweet and used all my submissive body language cues. “I know it’s last minute and I’m really sorry to be annoying. If there’s any way you could squeeze me in anywhere I think the information would make a lot more sense if I explained it in person. I’m really sorry again.”

  Kenealy sighed heavily and pounded on her computer with big meaty man fingers. She spent several minutes fussing and sighing and finally said, “He can see you at eighteen hundred hours for four minutes only.”

  “Great—thank you so much,” I groveled, and backed away from her desk. I checked my watch. Six hours to go. With a million things to do, I was sure the time would race. I spotted Jovic and Feng heading out of the office and felt a whisper of relief. At least I wouldn’t have to spend the whole day thinking about sex or singing the alphabet song—although that didn’t sound completely unlike some other work days I’d had.

  21

  First on the task list—I went back to the bathroom and used the cell phone from my personal stash to message my most reliable non-C11 contact in Toran-R to ask if he’d be willing to try
to get Dark out. I explained about the bloodthirsty assassins hovering vulturously around the hospital, but omitted the part about the people with supernatural abilities who were also watching. He said he’d give it a shot—for the right money of course. I knew him to be one of the best retired tactical soldiers I’d met. I just had to hope and pray he was up to the task.

  After that I messaged my overseas contacts minding my brother and parents—both reported to have them in their sights. For now—I repeated Rocco’s words with agitation—For now. And then I rang the hospital. When the nurse who answered said she’d give the phone to Dark I felt the huge knot of anxiety in my stomach tighten. I needed to tell him as much as I could, while making it sound as though I wasn’t telling him anything at all. I had to get it right. I pressed the phone hard against my ear and waited.

  When I heard his voice on the line, sounding worn and distant. I almost broke down. I held my head trying to get composure and Dark said, “Please tell me you’re not crying on the toilet.”

  I snorted out a strangled laugh.

  “I can hear the echo,” he said.

  “I’m on the toilet but I’m not on the toilet,” I finally managed.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked immediately.

  “Well my partner’s smashed up in hospital, there’s that,” I said.

  “Apart from that … something’s wrong, I can hear it.”

  “It’s just the echo,” I told him, buying time, still trying to figure out what to say. “How are you feeling?”

  “Awesome,” he said, then grunted with pain as he tried to move.

  “Seriously, how are you?” I pushed him.

  “I have an infection in one of the wounds, but it’s nothing to stress about, just means a bit more time in here.”