Enemy Exposure

by Meghan Rogers

  My heart beat faster the closer I got to the medical wing. I had pushed my father out of my head and tried to focus on Eliza, but that only made the situation worse.

  I was relieved to find Dr. March waiting for me. Her presence made me feel a fraction calmer even if she wasn’t here to take care of me today.

  “Are you ready for this?” she asked, looking at me out of the corner of her eye.

  I tugged my hair. “I honestly don’t know.”

  She squeezed my arm reassuringly. “We’ll be right there if you need anything.”

  I couldn’t decide if that made me feel better or worse. Dr. March led me to the back of the medical wing—farther back than I had ever been. She unlocked a room and showed me inside. It was an observation room.

  Simmonds was already there as I expected, but I was thrown to also find Travis. I had assumed that I would be the only person in on this since I was the only one at the meeting.

  Travis gripped the rail that ran along the bottom of the window, staring through the glass, transfixed. On the other side was Eliza. I stood next to him to get a better look.

  She was in a hospital bed, but it wasn’t like the others in the medical wing. Those were smaller, yet appeared to be more comfortable. This bed was longer and wider, but looked stiff. Eliza was either asleep or sedated, and from the looks of things, her ankles were chained to the bed. I whirled around to find Simmonds. “Why is she chained down? She isn’t a prisoner.”

  “No, she’s not,” Simmonds agreed, keeping his voice even.

  “She was a little—destructive—when she first woke up,” Dr. March said, stepping forward. “It seems that as long as we limit her mobility, she’s calm enough.”

  I looked between the two of them. It must have been clear how unconvinced I was, because Simmonds continued. “The ankle cuffs are padded, and digitally controlled, so we can release her from out here if we have to. She’s perfectly fine.”

  I turned back to her, fighting the urge to debate the issue. The chains reminded me too much of KATO, but I had to remember that Eliza was different from me. She didn’t ask for help. We were forcing it on her. And because of that, she had to be handled differently. Travis stood next to me, barely taking his eyes off of her.

  “Is your father coming?” Simmonds asked, seeming to just realize I had come alone.

  “No,” I said. “I need to do this without him.”

  Simmonds held my eyes briefly, and I saw his understanding. Then his phone beeped. He scanned it and grimaced. “I need to address this. It’ll only take a minute.” He stepped out.

  “I’m going to start to wake her up,” Dr. March said, following Simmonds out of the room. A few seconds later she was on the other side of the glass with Eliza.

  Travis bowed his head, looking away from the window for the first time since I’d entered.

  “You don’t have to be here,” I said to him. He straightened to look at me, tension stretched across his face. “Your goal was to bring her back. You made that happen.” A part of me badly wanted him to leave. Travis knew more about my time at KATO than anyone, but between my father showing up and KATO targeting me, I found myself feeling more exposed than ever. My stomach twisted at the thought of shedding another layer—even to him.

  “I thought my goal was to get her back,” Travis said. “I thought that would be enough—but look at her.” He broke his eyes away from me. “I did that do her.”

  “You didn’t—”

  “She was my responsibility.” His grip on the rail tightened. “I need to see this through.” I swallowed my argument.

  We watched Eliza in silence until March and Simmonds returned a couple minutes later.

  “Okay,” Dr. March said. “She hasn’t said much at all. At least, not about anything that makes sense. She’s been angry and harsh, but hasn’t revealed anything important. We need you to get her talking. Based on her weight and muscle mass, it doesn’t seem like they’ve been training her the same way they did with you. We’d like to know as much as possible, but at this point, just getting her to share something would be a victory.”

  I nodded, still not taking my eyes off of her. Her long dark brown hair hung around her face. I could tell from here that her eyes were bloodshot, and Dr. March was right—she looked way too thin to be an agent. I finally turned to face them. “Is there anything else you need?”

  “Learning what happened to her is the priority,” Simmonds said.

  I took a long breath and headed for the door. “I’ll see what I can find out.”

  I didn’t look at anyone else as I stepped into the hallway.

  There was a security guard in front of Eliza’s room. Dr. March had her security card out, ready to swipe it against the sensor. The guard let us pass, and Dr. March stopped in front of the door, turning around to face me. “We have two guards on standby if you need them for some reason.”

  “Okay,” I said, nodding, “but it shouldn’t come to that.”

  She smiled and stepped aside, then I could see Eliza sitting at the bottom of her bed, the length of the mattress behind her. The restraints must have had plenty of give, because she had her legs crossed, her elbows resting on her knees, and her head in her hands. She looked calm and in control, but there was a fire just behind her eyes that suggested this was an act.

  “Eliza,” Dr. March said, speaking to her as if she were someone on the verge of a nervous breakdown. “Eliza, there’s someone I want you to meet.” Eliza didn’t so much as glance in our direction, but Dr. March carried on anyway. “This is Jocelyn Steely.”

  Eliza finally turned her head to look at me. It was slow and calculated. Like she was a puppet being controlled. She studied me, but she didn’t speak. Dr. March nodded in a way that told me this wasn’t unusual, then took a step backward. “We’ll be watching,” she said, keeping her voice low so only I could hear. “If you need anything, direct your question to the window.”

  I nodded, but I couldn’t take my eyes away from Eliza. Dr. March gave my shoulder one final squeeze then stepped back into the hallway. Even though she shut the door as gently as possible, it almost seemed to echo in the quiet of the room.

  Eliza and I stared at each other for a moment, neither of us speaking.

  She was the one to break the silence. “You’re a traitor.” There was a startling coldness to her voice that was unnerving.

  I hadn’t had enough time to think about what I was going to say here—but maybe that was a good thing. It kept me from psyching myself out.

  “She’s a traitor!” Eliza said again, this time to the mirrored window. So she knew we were being watched.

  I pulled the lone chair in the corner closer, so I was sitting next to the bed but in her line of sight—purposefully putting my back to the window. The only thing that separated us was the bottom bed rail. I watched her evenly and worked to put all of this in perspective. This wasn’t about me; this was about helping her.

  “You’re a traitor!” She shrieked the last word at me, as if she thought she was being ignored and hated it.

  “Yeah,” I said. “I figured that’s what they’d say.” I leaned a little bit closer to her. I couldn’t be rattled by what she was saying. I had to connect with her. “But what exactly did I betray?”

  Eliza’s lip curled slightly at my question. “You know what.” She spat the words at me, disgust marring her face. “You betrayed the directive. They had plans for you.” I drew a sharp, unexpected breath. I knew they did. But hearing her say it got under my skin. Still, I forced myself calm. This was about her.

  “What happened to you when they first brought you in?” I asked, my voice was casual enough, even though it was a loaded question. She didn’t answer, but I didn’t need her to. “They took everything from you, right? They took your clothes, your jewelry—anything you had on you that had any meaning.” The beginning
of anything awful was always the worst, and the same was true for KATO. The first kill, first fight, first injection. When things got “normal” for me, it was because I’d learned to steel myself. “Do you remember that?”

  Her face hardened, and this time when she spoke her voice had lost its icy edge, making her sound significantly younger than her fifteen years. “Of course.”

  “Do you remember the first time they broke your arm just to show you they could?” She pulled her left arm against her stomach, answering my question. I kept focused on her face so I didn’t have to think too much about the first time it happened to me.

  I pressed on. “Do you remember the first time they gave you Gerex?” She looked up at me sharply. “Do you remember how much it hurt? That feeling of fire spreading through your veins?”

  “I only feel the fire without it,” she said through her teeth. She was struggling against something inside her. I could see it all over her face.

  “Now,” I said. “But I’m talking about the first time. I know how badly you want it now, because I do too. But the first time they put a needle in my arm I didn’t want it, and it didn’t feel good—at least, not right away.” I swallowed. “I will never forget how much it hurt that first time.”

  She stayed silent, but her breathing had heightened. It was ragged and shallow, and just barely in control. When I was sure I’d made my point, I moved on.

  “Don’t you think there’s something wrong with a group that has to drug you just to keep you coming back to them?” I asked. “And we both know that’s just the tip of what they did to their agents during ‘training.’”

  Again, she didn’t say anything, but her face twisted in agitation. I saw her start to shake. I couldn’t tell if it was out of fear or anger, but I knew I was getting to her. Now I needed to get her to trust me. I needed her to see I was on her side.

  “I know everything they did to you, because they did it to me too.” I glanced at her neck and saw her small burn scar peeking out from underneath her hair. “I know why you have that burn, and how long it took to make. I know about the scars from when they cut into your feet. And I also know they did something to you in that house. Something they didn’t do to me.”

  Her eyes went hollow at that, and any humanity I’d uncovered went dark. “You don’t know anything!” Eliza said. She jumped to her feet, pulling at the chains as she stood on the bed. I had to fight against the instinct to back away. She towered over me, scanning the room, and I could see her trying to find a way to get to me without hurting herself. She couldn’t. “You don’t know ANYTHING!”

  Her voice rang through the room.

  I waited to make sure she was finished. “Then why don’t you tell me all about it?” I did my best to keep my voice calm.

  But it didn’t work. Whatever ground I may have gained, I lost by trying to get an answer out of her. She dropped back to the bed just as suddenly as she stood up. Her legs crossed again, only this time she pulled them too her chest. Her hands found her ears and she started shaking her head back and forth. She mumbled words I couldn’t make out. I glanced back to the window, having no clue what to do. Dr. March was in the room and next to me in an instant. She swooped in on Eliza, pressing something into her vein. It wasn’t Gerex—it calmed her too quickly—but it was similar enough that I had to look away. Eliza wasn’t clean yet, and Dr. March didn’t seem to have reservations about medicating her.

  Once she had relaxed, Dr. March helped her to stretch out on the bed then tucked her in. I had a hard time leaving her. I didn’t know what I was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t a meltdown of that level.

  “Come on,” Dr. March said, pulling at my shoulder. “We should talk with the others.” I tore my eyes away from Eliza and forced myself to follow.

  Chapter Eight

  A RISK WORTH TAKING

  Talking with Eliza had rattled me, but I did my best to hide it.

  “That didn’t go well,” I said when Dr. March and I rejoined Travis and Simmonds in the observation room. Simmonds turned to me while Travis watched Eliza, deep in thought.

  “You had her talking,” Dr. March said. “That’s something. We’ve had behavior specialists working with her and you had her attention longer than anyone.”

  “Does she always have this bad of a reaction?” Travis asked. Dr. March didn’t answer, but held his gaze in a way that said plenty. I set her off.

  I lowered my chin to study the floor. I would hate if someone dragged my past out of me like I had done to her.

  “This is good,” Dr. March said, seeming to know I needed to hear it.

  I shook my head. “I pushed too hard.”

  “But you set her up for next time.”

  I cringed at the idea of having to do that again, but if I had made the most progress with her there was really no other choice. We needed her to get to a place where she really understood what they did to her so she would want to be here.

  “She’s—” Travis started, but cut himself off. His jaw locked and his attention was on Eliza. She was asleep and looking downright peaceful. “I don’t know who that girl is.” He looked to us. “When I was with her she was quiet, and observant. Now she’s explosive.”

  Dr. March nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, based on the reports we had from when she was under our protection, I had gathered as much,” she said. “I have to update her behavior specialists. Today was good progress. Hopefully we can get to the bottom of this soon.” She gave his shoulder a maternal squeeze and headed for the door.

  “I have a meeting to get to,” Simmonds said. “Good work, Agent Steely.”

  I nodded, even though it didn’t really feel like good work.

  Travis sighed deeply when the door shut. I gave him a once-over. He seemed to be fighting to stay in control. “You should go to class,” he said, straightening. “I need to go hit something.”

  That was a feeling I could relate to. “I’ll meet you later in the mission prep room?”

  “Yeah.” He sounded relieved to have something else to focus on.

  • • •

  I found myself grateful to be sitting in Agent Lee’s class that afternoon. Being surrounded by a roomful of people who didn’t know—and didn’t want to know—the details of my history was a welcome change of pace. The afternoon only got better when I got to Agent Harper’s class. It was my first time in his room since I had strangled him. So far, I hadn’t heard a word about the incident from anyone. Harper proceeded to spend the entire class actively avoiding me.

  About halfway through, Gwen spun around. “Look at him,” she said with a smile. “He’s terrified of you.”

  “Of course he is,” Olivia said. “She found his weakness. The last thing he wants is Simmonds finding out what he’s been doing.”

  “It’s thanks to you that I even had that card to play,” I said to Olivia. She gave me a small smile before turning back around. Gwen was right about her. She was a natural strategist. I couldn’t imagine why she resisted it so much.

  The class got even better when Sam slid his phone across the desk at me. It was a message from another tech specialist. My eyes darted to him. “Is this what I think it is?”

  Sam smiled. “Tell Elton to meet us after class. We have some more files to look over.”

  I spent the next half hour biting my lip to keep from smiling. There was no guarantee that this would shed any more light on the situation, but after this morning I was desperate for even the possibility of progress.

  • • •

  I wasn’t at all surprised to find Travis already in the mission prep room when Sam and I got there. I had sent him a message as we were leaving class, though I was sure he headed right there after his time in the training room anyway.

  “All right,” Sam said, taking a seat at the computer. “These should be pretty straightforward.”

  He pushed a
button on his keyboard and sent some files to the monitors above him. Each was organized the same way as Eliza’s—a name with a series of facts underneath, followed by large chunks of text. My eyes widened as the realization set in. “They’re all KATO agent files.” There had to be at least twenty. They were organized by code name. Some I recognized, but some I didn’t. It wasn’t too surprising that agent files would be grouped together, but what was surprising were the code names themselves. Hornet, Venom, Monarch—they were some of KATO’s most elite agents, and I couldn’t imagine why Eliza’s file would be included. And Eliza’s was different from all of them. The files in front of us continued with details written in sizable chunks of text, but Eliza’s ended abruptly.

  These files were also decoded and translated. Sam pulled up a file and zoomed in on the first box next to the agent’s picture. “There are two things that pop as being nearly identical in each file. This is the first one.”

  It was a line I had decoded when I was working on Eliza’s file. “That says they’ve labeled this agent as trained and loyal,” I said.

  “Yes, it does,” Sam said with a smirk. “And by the way, they really missed the mark with you.”

  Travis looked at me sharply, and I tensed. I could feel his eyes searching my face, trying to read me.

  “I have a file here?” I asked.

  “You do,” Sam said. He glanced up at me and seemed to know better than to pull it up.

  I swallowed hard, thinking of everything that could be in that file. “I’ll deal with that later.” I put my attention back on the screen. “What’s the other similarity?”

  “The second thing is in the very last box.” He pulled it up on the monitor. This was a box that hadn’t completely made sense in Eliza’s file even after I tried decoding it. It was also the only box that had more of a sentence than a simple word or phrase. “They all start out the same, but the last couple words are different.”

  The file on the screen read, Executes trust with North Star.

  I leaned closer. “Those words are upper-level code words from something else, but I can’t remember what.” I stared at it harder, as if that would fix the problem, but it wasn’t clicking.