Sophia nodded. ‘We have three operatives moving west.’
‘Three?’ Czarina said. ‘We can barely handle one.’
‘So we isolate and take one operative,’ Sophia said. ‘Play it safe.’
‘Does your map say their destination?’ Ieva asked.
‘Berlin. We leave tonight.’
Sophia’s phone chirped.
‘Proximity sensors.’ Czarina drew her pistol from the holster in the waistband of her jeans.
On her phone, Sophia opened the video feed for one of her IR cameras. Someone walked through their front yard with a high posture and crisp stride she’d recognize anywhere.
‘Ding dong, Navy SEAL calling,’ Czarina said in a sing-song voice, holstering her pistol.
‘He took his time,’ Sophia said.
‘Perhaps he knows the Russian agent?’ Ieva asked.
Sophia thought for a moment. ‘Don’t mention her. Not yet.’
‘But he might—’ Ieva said.
Czarina leaned over the table, grinning. ‘Hang on, you don’t even trust him yet, do you?’
Ieva dragged Czarina out of the kitchen, but not before Czarina pulled the gum from her mug and shoved it back in her mouth.
‘Maybe this time get a room,’ Czarina said with a wink.
Sophia shot her a glare, but Czarina was already creeping down the hall with Ieva. Sophia stood and slipped her pistol into her waistband holster. Then she changed her mind—she didn’t want to look armed—so she shoved it down the back of her waistband, hidden under her jacket.
The floorboards creaked beneath heavy boots. A moment later, DC stepped cautiously into the kitchen. A thin pink scar on his obsidian knuckles glinted like silver under the kitchen lights.
‘Nice place,’ he said.
‘Here for a good time, not a long time,’ Sophia said. ‘Would you like to stand in the doorway and not drink the tea I’m not making for you?’
‘I don’t drink tea or—’ DC noticed her smile. ‘Oh.’ He cleared his throat. ‘So what brings you to this neck of the woods, still chasing operatives?’
‘I go where the business is,’ Sophia said. ‘And you?’
‘The Fifth Column is crumbling.’
‘That wasn’t nearly dramatic enough,’ she said. ‘You need to work on your delivery.’
He folded his arms, his brown jacket pulling taut over his wide shoulders. ‘You don’t believe me?’
‘I’ll believe it when I see it.’
Still in the doorway, he remained irritatingly still. ‘They’re making a desperate push. It could be their last.’
‘Could be?’
‘This is bigger than just operatives, Sophia. I’m talking with some people. People who could help us end them.’
‘You know what happened last time I tried that,’ she said. ‘So you can see why I have trouble coming around to this idea. Especially when you’re pitching it.’
DC’s gaze shifted to the floor. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘You don’t need to tell me, I can smell it from the ectohormones you’re secreting through your skin.’
‘Huh. I bet you say that to all the guys.’
‘Sure, if they don’t shower.’
His smile disappeared. ‘Look, I don’t expect you to trust me.’
‘I don’t,’ she said. ‘And I won’t be played.’
‘So you think I’m playing you?’
‘I hope you’re not,’ she said. ‘And I definitely don’t want outsiders involved.’ Her words came sharper than she’d intended. Maybe outsider was a bit harsh.
‘But that’s exactly what you’re doing.’ DC stepped into the kitchen, finally. Only a small step, it almost didn’t count. ‘You didn’t score an operative today.’
‘You were watching us,’ she said. ‘I knew I had a stalker.’
‘There will be more. You can see their movements, even now.’
He was right. Activity was ramping up. It was why she was here in the first place.
‘Not all their movements,’ she said.
‘Maybe you should stop and catch your breath.’ He took another careful step toward the table. ‘Look at what you have around you.’
Frustration built inside her. ‘The Fifth Column has an extensive network of operatives. I have two.’
‘You have two here, sure. But you also have Nasira. And you have Damien and Jay.’
‘They’ve sacrificed enough,’ she said.
His scent evoked a particular combination of emotions in her that attracted and repelled at the same time. It made the hair on her arms prickle.
‘And you have me,’ he said.
She smiled. ‘Not yet.’
Chapter Seven
Las Vegas, United States
‘I would offer you a chair,’ the suited man said, taking a seat in the hotel room. ‘But you’re a spring chicken who can make do with the floor. Plus, I really must compliment you on your hair. What color do you call that, chili red?’
‘Scarlet,’ Aviary said.
He wasn’t even looking at her. ‘Close enough.’
Aviary sat near the bed, her wrists and ankles cuffed. The green-tinted window cast an appropriately radioactive haze over the man before her.
Not long ago, this hotel was for guests. Now it was under the control of the US Marines Corps.
The suited man was regular in almost every respect. His skin was taut around his eyes and mouth, crinkled across his forehead and scarred below his lips. His nose seemed slightly askew, or perhaps his face was slightly askew. His suit was crease-free and his hands were well moisturized. She could smell the light fragrance of his hand cream.
He seemed in a much better mood than anyone else in this building, which wasn’t hard; the marines lingering outside were on double shifts, wavering between restlessness and fatigue.
‘My name is Hal,’ he said. ‘With an a, not an e l l.’
What was his strategy? Aviary thought. To irritate people into a confession?
He laughed to himself and removed a tablet in a hideous leather casing from his briefcase. He placed it upon the table, cracked his fingers and wiggled them.
‘Okie dokie, let’s get this chat rolling.’ Hal smiled at Aviary. She felt ill. ‘Now, you have been questioned a bit already. And I do apologize for that. I mean, you’re barely an adult and you’re thrown into this horrible mess. You will be relieved to know that I won’t be covering the same line of questioning as the United States Marine Corps.’
He flopped his badge open, almost an afterthought.
‘I’m with the National Clandestine Service of the CIA.’ He took a moment to rub his thin nose. Even at this distance she could see the pores. ‘Make of that what you will. Now, let’s get to the meat of this.’
Hal seemed excited by the prospect. Aviary wasn’t.
His fingers tapped the surface of his tablet. Each tap was heavy and she wondered if the screen might break under impact. Already she was starting to prefer his talking.
‘All righty, so let’s get one thing super-duper clear, shall we?’ Hal said. ‘This resistance you’re part of? Not a big fan. I mean, the United States Marine Corps don’t care for them folks either. But—’
Oh God, now he was waggling his finger.
‘I care a great deal less,’ Hal said. ‘You see, they keep the marines busy and all, but I’m here to have a conversation with you. A good old-fashioned conversation between a gentleman and a lady.’ He gestured to her cuffs. ‘Alas, the lady is tied up right now—’
He rubbed his hands together and leaned forward, his gaze firmly on Aviary.
‘More than likely, everything I say to you will go in one ear and out the other. Chances are, you won’t be interested in what I’m yakking about,’ Hal said. ‘So I’ll keep it brief. Five minutes of my waxing lyrical. I don’t expect we’ll be talking much beyond that.’ He raised a hand. ‘However, this is always the most interesting part. For me, anyway.’
He paused and sucked at somet
hing between his teeth.
‘You know the gravity of your situation. I’m sure the kind marines—while short on humor—have informed you of your status as a terrorist, subject to indefinite detention. Listen to me, talking like a politician. To put it simply, we’re not calling an alligator a lizard, are we? You know you’re going away for a very long time.’
Aviary nodded slowly.
‘Excellent! I mean, not excellent. Terrible. Very terrible.’ He pursed his lips, thinking for a moment. ‘This is interesting because I can do certain things to change that.’ He held out both hands to inspect them. ‘Now, before you question my moral status, there are limits to my powers of persuasion, but they are not to be underestimated. While I can’t change the fact that you’re a terrorist and all the nasty stuff that comes with your unfortunate life choices and personal … style, I can change how we handle you.’
He launched to his feet, almost knocking his chair over. He apologized to no one in particular, maybe the chair, and paced the narrow space around the hotel bed.
‘Down to brass tacks. Your best case scenario is where your value outweighs,’—he shook his fist as he formed the thought—‘gosh, your value is really valuable. That might well be enough to keep you from detention altogether.’ He halted and locked his gaze with her. ‘Now wouldn’t that be something? Wouldn’t that be something worth talking about?’
Aviary scratched an adhesive bandage on her palm. ‘Sure, why not?’
‘You see, Miss Aviary Keli’i.’ His tongue tripped over her Hawaiian surname. ‘I couldn’t give two hoots about your involvement with this resistance. I mean, what started all this business anyway? A pesky nationwide firearm ban?’
‘Or programmed shooters,’ Aviary said. ‘Take your pick.’
‘That sounds a bit silly.’ Hal almost smiled. ‘You see, the resistance are not the reason I’m here.’
Hal leaned over and tapped on his tablet. This time, he wasn’t typing. He lifted the tablet over so Aviary could see the screen. She recognized the woman in the photo.
‘Sophia. Born Zofia Novotný, Czech Republic,’ he said. ‘Do you know her?’
‘Does she still keep her surname?’ Aviary crossed her legs on the carpet. ‘Or is it just a mononym like Björk or Madonna?’
‘See, I was hoping you could tell me.’
‘Or Sting,’ Aviary said.
‘This is one of the many questions about Sophia that keep me up at night. Which is not that hard because you were aiming a little low there. No offense.’
‘Some taken,’ Aviary said.
‘You have three options. Option one: you tell me everything you know of Sophia’s whereabouts, activities and operational capabilities. You know, all the good stuff that people like me really love to know.’
‘I thought you don’t care about the resistance,’ she said.
He smiled. ‘Sophia is not the resistance. She is not even connected to the resistance. She is merely a woman. And I want all the dirt on her. In return, you have your freedom. Under one condition: you leave this country and you never come back.’
Aviary frowned. ‘Cher? No surname.’
His smile faded. ‘Option two: you work with us. All the aforementioned dirt on Sophia, sure. But you become our little spy. You pretend to join her, only you’re on our side. Once she’s taken care of, we can broker a deal between the resistance and the government. Something to your satisfaction.’
‘My satisfaction?’ she asked.
‘Civil war ends and we all go back to fighting climate change. And you go back to whatever you like. Just not more terrorist stuff, because that would be awkward.’
‘See, I thought terrorism was your specialty.’ She smiled. ‘Awkward.’
Hal took a seat again. ‘Bless your little heart, Aviary, but I really don’t think you’re giving this the attention it deserves.’
‘You’re right,’ Aviary said.
Hal drew his pistol and placed it on the table, the barrel facing her. It was large and clunky, and there was a small red diode on the pistol grip.
Weapon retention system.
Even if she could get to it, she wouldn’t be able to fire it.
Hal nodded to his pistol. ‘It’s big.’
‘I doubt that,’ she said. ‘You haven’t told me option three.’
‘Option three is you don’t play ball. And then it’s prison for a very long time.’
‘Listen,’ Aviary said, ‘There’s a reason why I don’t have much faith in your options. I get what you’re trying to do, but if you’re looking for the threat to our country you need only look up.’
Hal looked up at the ceiling.
‘Figuratively speaking.’ She sighed. ‘I’m wasting my breath.’
‘You probably are,’ Hal said. ‘But please, continue.’
‘You want to stop the bloodshed, right?’
He gestured with open hands. ‘It’s why I’m here.’
‘But you won’t. You’ll keep killing,’ she said. ‘Bloodshed is where we started and it’s where we end.’
‘Do you want the end?’ Hal asked softly.
‘The end is never the end though, is it?’ Aviary said.
‘All things come to an end. Even you.’
‘There are billions of us,’ she said. ‘And we’re all programmed to execute an infinite loop. Our conditions are never met. And so we are doomed to reset.’
He sucked on his teeth again. ‘You might be surprised to know I have thought of this on many occasions. A little less melodramatically and without your programming lingo. But sure as God made little green apples, I’ve considered this dilemma at least once. Possibly even twice.’ He cleared his throat. ‘This infinite loop, do you want to change it?’
‘No, it’s the conditions that need to change,’ Aviary said. ‘They don’t account for one bug in the program. We don’t even know how to debug it. And it destroys us every time.’
Hal smiled. ‘Are you the bug, Aviary?’
‘No,’ she said. ‘You’ve been the bug from the moment you were born.’
‘Curious.’ He clasped his fingers together, as one might to indulge a child. ‘How can you tell?’
‘You run a different loop,’ she said. ‘You have parameters missing.’
‘Are you suggesting I have some sort of brain damage?’ Hal asked. ‘That’s quite an accusation for a terrorist to make to an employee of the Central Intelligence Agency.’
‘It might be, except you’re not from the CIA. In case you’re wondering why I have little faith in your options.’
He waved his CIA badge in one hand. ‘And if you’re wondering why they are options, it’s because your suspicions are correct.’
Aviary’s heart raced.
‘Final boarding call,’ he said.
‘I’ve been waiting for you.’ Aviary released her handcuffs and launched to her feet.
Hal took up his pistol. ‘Not so fast. Sit down this instant.’
Aviary squeezed the palm of her hand, triggering the implant under her skin.
A faint whining sound came from his pistol. A tiny red diode blinked on the pistol grip, above his thumb. She’d just denied him fingerprint access to his own weapon. He looked back at her and realization washed over his face.
‘I don’t think you’ve thought this through,’ he said.
Aviary approached the table. ‘Three interviews. Two interrogations. What does it take to get the Fifth Column’s attention around here? I mean, come on.’
‘Let’s remember that you’re in a building filled with soldiers who like to shoot first and ask later,’ Hal said. ‘And my partner is due any moment. Doesn’t help you, now does it?’
‘Bitch, please. Doesn’t help you either,’ Aviary said. ‘And besides, you don’t even have a partner.’
Hal stiffened. ‘Sit down this instant, or you’ll face charges for assaulting a federal officer.’
‘Why aren’t you calling for help?’ Aviary asked.
Hal bl
inked. ‘If I call this in, there’s no going back. They’ll give you one heck of a beating.’
She raised an eyebrow. ‘Shame you won’t be alive to see it.’
‘You don’t have combat training.’
‘Neither do you,’ she said.
‘I’m a reasonable fellow. We might just put some options back on the table.’
Hal carefully reached for his tablet.
She slammed her fist on his fingers. They crunched. He lashed out with his other fist. She stepped back, kicked the table into his legs. He stumbled into the wall. She vaulted over the table—narrowly avoiding a kick as Hal fought back—and jammed the edge of the tablet into his neck.
Hal’s gasp was explosive.
He slid down the wall, hands over his neck, trying to breathe. Aviary took his pistol from the holster. It was black and heavy.
‘Do you penetrate yourself with this?’ she asked.
Hal coughed, tried to reach for it. She retreated, taking the tablet and pistol with her. She placed the tablet on the bed and peeled the adhesive bandage from her palm, revealing stitching that hadn’t dissolved yet. Under the bandage, she peeled off a strip of sticky tape and applied it to the slide of Hal’s pistol, where his supporting thumb rested. Then she—
Hal’s elbow caught her across the face. Light sparked around her. She dropped to both knees, one hand on the carpet to brace herself. Hal took the tablet and was about to crack it across her face, then hesitated. He discarded the tablet and his fist came crashing down instead.
Aviary narrowly dodged the blow.
She whipped her knuckles into his ribs, but his knee caught her in the chest and sent her reeling back across the carpet. She crashed into the lamp beside the bed. Hal was on his feet, wheezing.
Aviary struggled to draw breath. She panicked, clutched at the bedside table behind her, grasping little more than the room service menu. She slipped to the floor.
‘What were you saying about’—Hal coughed—‘combat training?’
She kicked him, but he sidestepped and lowered his knee to her chest, pinning her.
‘You must bring so much shame to your parents.’ He loosened his tie. ‘Does that make you sad?’
She wanted to spit in his face but she could barely breathe under the weight of his knee. He pinned one of her wrists under his other knee and grabbed her free hand. Now she couldn’t fight back.
Exile Page 5
