Jay had her phone, but he didn’t pick up.
Why wasn’t he answering?
Nasira was gaining ground on her, and she hurried to keep up. There was a dark blood stain on Nasira’s shoulder; an exit wound that marred the silver shimmer of her top yet didn’t appear to slow her down.
Aviary sprinted on, touching her body, arms, even her legs as she ran. Damien had taught her that she wouldn’t register pain in a situation like this, so she needed to know if she was bleeding. She wasn’t—none of the blood staining her stolen, shredded jacket was hers.
Her call connected.
‘They’re locking the whole strip down!’ Jay yelled. ‘Had to turn the car around.’
Nasira slowed to a fast walk. She took Aviary’s wrist and spoke into it so Jay could hear. And so could most of the startled patrons, but Nasira seemed past the point of caring.
‘Where are you?’ Nasira yelled.
‘North, just passing the Eiffel Tower,’ Jay yelled.
Nasira ripped off her shimmering top, down to her black singlet. Aviary followed suit and tore off her blood-soaked jacket. Damien was beside her now. He took her jacket and flung it onto a passing roulette table. The dealer and players froze in shock.
‘Thirty-three black,’ Damien said, removing his own shirt.
Aviary flushed at the sight of Damien tearing his blood-soaked shirt off with both hands, then flushed deeper at the idea that it could still have that effect given their situation. He plugged his earphone back in and caught up.
From Aviary’s watch, Jay yelled, ‘Find a way to the strip and I’ll get you out.’
‘You better,’ Nasira said. ‘Don’t do anything stu—’
Jay ended the call.
‘Get us out of here, Aviary,’ Nasira said.
Aviary was generally familiar with these casinos, but panic and adrenaline had robbed her of her bearings. Now her hands trembled. ‘I don’t know where!’
‘Then get knowing,’ Nasira said.
Aviary pointed. ‘OK. That way.’
She directed them to a bridge, its two long moving walkways a quick way of ferrying patrons between this building and The Venetian next door. Aviary sprinted across, weaving around the occasional patron. Nasira and Damien fell in behind her.
Her watch bleeped. Jay, calling again. She hit the crown to answer.
‘Hey!’ Jay said. ‘You’re riding me! I mean, uh, you’re right on top of me!’
Aviary looked over the side of the walkway and spotted Jay’s getaway car beneath her. ‘Don’t go far!’ she said. ‘We’ll find a way down!’
At the end of the bridge was a large open-air plaza. Gondolas floated under arched walkways and along canals of turquoise water. They’d arrived at The Venetian.
‘The fuck is this place?’ Nasira asked, slowing to a fast walk.
‘Can’t get through!’ Jay yelled through Aviary’s watch. ‘Security fences everywhere!’
‘Can you make it to arrivals at the Venetian?’ Aviary asked. ‘It’s the closest access by car.’
‘That’s a whole other casino,’ Damien said. ‘We won’t make it.’
‘Give me a map.’ Nasira extended her hand. ‘We have to make it. Are they closing on us?’
Damien was listening to their radio. ‘Still behind, but they’re catching up.’
Nasira took one look at the map on Aviary’s phone, then started running. She tore through the Gold Club Lounge and into the central casino. Nasira ran for a particular corner, catching puzzled glances from nearby patrons. Lungs burning, Aviary finally caught up.
‘Through Walgreens,’ Nasira said.
‘Nope, nope, nope.’ Damien was listening to his earphone.
Nasira hesitated. Aviary saw why.
Half a battalion of marines poured down the escalators in front of Walgreens.
Chapter Fourteen
Kaliningrad, Kaliningrad Oblast
Olesya opened her notebook and Xiu’s photo slipped into her hand.
She wasn’t smiling in the picture, but Olesya could remember how she looked when she did, and the way she wrinkled her nose when she was concentrating.
Even here in Kaliningrad, she couldn’t escape her feelings of loss.
There was a light knock on the door.
Ark stepped inside. ‘Gleb called a meeting.’
‘Right now? Where?’
Ark made way, and the intelligence officer entered the room. Gleb stood awkwardly in his neatly pressed combat fatigues, hands clasped behind him. ‘Here, if that is no issue.’
‘There’s no room here for everyone,’ Olesya said.
Ark closed the door. ‘This meeting’s just for us.’
She glared at both of them. ‘What about Illarion?’
Gleb cleared his throat. He hadn’t shaven today, which she found unusual. Now he looked his age, which she estimated only a few years more than the rest of them.
‘It’s best we keep this between ourselves for the moment,’ Gleb said.
‘I’m not sure how I feel about that,’ she said.
‘If you’ll hear me out, then you can make your decision.’
‘And if I don’t?’
‘Then I will brief Illarion.’
Olesya folded her arms. ‘Fine. What’s this about? And can you sit down? It’s unsettling having you both stand there.’
Gleb sat on the very end of Marina’s bed, shifting the fluffy anchovy from under him with a perplexed expression. Ark helped himself to Marina’s chair.
‘How long does it take?’ Ark asked.
She blinked. ‘For what?’
‘He means deprogramming.’ Gleb clasped his hands. ‘How certain are you that it can be done successfully?’
She met his gaze. ‘I know it can be done. Otherwise Ark and I wouldn’t be here.’
‘You weren’t completely programmed by the Fifth Column, is that correct?’ Gleb asked.
Olesya raised an eyebrow. ‘Is that why you’re here? To evaluate us? Who exactly do you report to?’
‘Normally I report to Illarion,’ Gleb said. ‘Tonight, I report to you.’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘Gleb is here because we can help each other,’ Ark said.
The intelligence officer unfastened a button on his uniform and removed a large envelope from inside, which he handed to Olesya. ‘You’re not supposed to see this. And I didn’t give it to you.’
The envelope contained a stapled collection of papers and a small thin book—a standard firearms manual. The papers were printed with the Intron logo, the two arrows intersecting like a misaligned X.
‘Check the next page,’ Gleb said.
Olesya turned over the top sheet. At the head of the page there was a code: M165.
‘What do you see?’ Gleb asked.
‘An invoice.’
She looked closer. The buyer was obscured. Everything was in numbers except for the description of the product. Height in centimeters, weight in kilograms, eye color, hair color, nationality: Russian.
‘Looks like human trafficking to me.’ She looked at Gleb. ‘You haven’t shown this to Illarion yet, have you?’
He shook his head.
She pointed to a word on the invoice. ‘Tetrachromacy.’
‘Ultraviolet vision,’ Ark said. ‘The ability that Val was born with.’
At the bottom of the invoice, she noticed the word cancelled and a date beside it. The date was recent. ‘Whoever they are, they cancelled the order.’
‘That date is the night when the Fifth Column raided an Intron facility in Belarus.’
‘What did they raid it for?’ she asked.
‘They abducted some of the patients,’ Gleb said.
‘Val,’ Olesya whispered.
Ark nodded. ‘Exactly what I’m thinking.’
‘This invoice tells a story.’ Olesya wet her lips. ‘Of Intron abducting Val and conspiring to sell her. Until she was abducted.’
‘At this very moment,
I’m tracking a new operative in Eastern Europe,’ Gleb said. ‘She is marked for an operation tomorrow.’
‘A new operative? So that’s our operation in Poland tomorrow?’ Olesya asked.
Gleb shook his head. ‘Poland is running federal elections tomorrow and Purity’s political party are in the running. We have sources who suspect they might spike their popularity with something … traumatic. You’re dispatched to make sure that doesn’t happen.’ He paused. ‘However, the new operative is in Estonia.’
Olesya handed back the papers. ‘We can’t be in two places at once.’
‘I have the authority to declare you unfit for duty. I can choose to classify you—both of you—as suffering from post-traumatic stress. That means temporary leave.’
‘You’re going to lie?’ she asked.
‘It’s the truth.’
Ark leaned forward in his chair. ‘Olesya, this operative has a fresh tag.’
‘They’re training new recruits?’
‘We have no reports of that,’ Gleb said. ‘Look at the firearms manual. Please.’
Olesya opened the book and found page after page of scrawled handwritten notes in English. Each page looked to be a photocopy, and not a great one either. She leafed through, skimming the words.
Her heart raced. ‘This is a deprogramming manual.’
Gleb nodded. ‘The only one of its kind.’
‘Where did you get it?’ she asked.
‘It’s best I don’t answer that.’
She glared at him. ‘If you want us involved, I need to know.’
‘This stays between us,’ Gleb said. ‘This document was on the bed of the abducted patient in Belarus.’
Olesya considered that for a moment. ‘So you’re saying that Intron abducted Val, and then the Fifth Column stole her?’
‘It’s possible that the abduction was a condition of the sale,’ Gleb said.
‘It wasn’t cancelled at all,’ Olesya said. ‘The new operative is Val.’
‘I have no doubt,’ Ark said.
‘It’s probable,’ Gleb countered.
Or perhaps not, Olesya thought. It could be Xiu.
‘I know it’s a big ask, going to Estonia,’ Ark said. ‘But we can let the others take care of the election. Gleb can put us on the bench.’ He shrugged. ‘At least look like we’re on the bench.’
‘And then what?’ Olesya said.
‘I’ve already issued you with Estonian passports and driver’s insurance—that’s standard procedure,’ Gleb said. ‘But I can also book you flights.’
‘That’s not standard procedure,’ she said. ‘Why should we trust you?’
‘I just handed you a deprogramming manual that’s not supposed to exist.’ His eyes were glassy now. ‘My career is on the line. And Val…’
Olesya watched him for a moment. ‘You care about her.’
‘She’s one of our hunters, it’s essential that I care about her,’ Gleb said.
‘No,’ she said softly. ‘It’s more than that.’
A tear spilled down his cheek. ‘It’s foolish. I’m not—I know there’s no chance that anything could…’
Ark stared at him. ‘What are you saying? Were you guys…’
‘What Gleb is saying, is we all care for her very much.’ Olesya glared at Gleb. ‘Right?’
Gleb stood and brushed creases from his shirt. ‘And that is precisely why I’m here.’
Ark turned to Olesya. ‘Gleb wants to help get Val back. Do you?’
‘On one condition.’ She closed the deprogramming manual. ‘I run this operation.’
Chapter Fifteen
Devil's Mountain, Berlin
Sophia looked through the torn shell of the radar dome.
Once an NSA spy station during the Cold War, the surface of the golf ball-shaped structure had peeled away, and was laced with graffiti. Below it, thick forest sprawled toward Berlin.
She didn’t want to take their newly captured operative back to the old mansion in Lithuania. Not yet. This forgotten spy station was the perfect location for the first stage of deprogramming, even if it meant risking impalement by wild boar just to get here.
She checked her phone in case DC had made contact—nothing—then turned her attention to the woman in Naval uniform. Her name was Priya and Sophia had sat her in an old red bathtub. The woman’s hands were unnaturally still, resting on the lip of the tub as she stared ahead, unfocused. She’d been locked in slave mode since the nightclub.
Czarina and Ieva stood at a safe distance, near the ladder they’d used to climb into the dome. While they’d made it out of the club mostly unscathed, Czarina sported a cut lip and Ieva a dark bruise that swelled across her jaw. Ieva held her phone, tapping notes into the screen. Czarina hovered, eyes on the prisoner, hand over her pistol grip. Sophia felt responsible for their injuries, but it could’ve been a lot worse had she not used the DJ’s microphone in time.
‘Priya, my name is Sophia.’ Her voice reverberated off the dome’s interior, sounding like she was in a philharmonic hall. ‘Confirm neopsyche designation: Alcyone.’
Priya stared through Sophia. ‘Alcyone confirmed.’ Her voice was not hers anymore. It was even and smooth. She was a world away.
Sophia crouched in front of the bathtub. ‘Where are you, Priya?’
‘I’m playing Pachisi with Grandma.’ She smiled. ‘I think she’s letting me win.’
‘Are you safe?’
She nodded enthusiastically. ‘You can call me Pri-Pri, like Grandma. But it’s your turn to roll.’
‘Sure, give me a moment.’ Sophia stood and turned to Ieva and Czarina. ‘It’s important we ground her before continuing.’
Ieva raised her hand. ‘Question.’
‘You don’t need to raise your hand, Ieva.’
‘Which one is Alcyone?’
‘Alcyone is the neopsyche—her false personality,’ Sophia said. ‘Denton programmed this into each of us.’
‘So that lives alongside the arky … archeo—’
‘Archeopsyche,’ Sophia said. ‘That’s the real you. It’s always there, but it’s not in control. Only when you are deprogrammed can the real you return.’ Sophia regarded Czarina. ‘Are you taking notes?’
Czarina tapped her head. ‘All up here.’
Ieva grinned. ‘At least something is.’
Czarina elbowed her, but kept her attention on Priya.
‘Any other questions?’ Sophia asked.
‘No, more of a general complaint really,’ Czarina said. ‘This stuff is hard to get my head around.’
‘Maybe you should write it down,’ Ieva said.
‘It’s not your head you need to get around, it’s Priya’s,’ Sophia said. ‘Priya, execute Alcyone, confirm parapsyche listing.’
Priya didn’t say anything for a moment.
Sophia knelt in front of the bathtub. ‘Pri-Pri?’
‘Alcyone loaded. Listing’—Priya frowned—‘unknown.’
Sophia paused. Interesting.
Czarina’s fingers twitched over her pistol. ‘Everything OK?’
Sophia checked her handwritten deprogramming manual, noticed her bookmark was in the wrong place. She stuffed it in her jacket pocket and approached Priya.
Priya’s hands were steady, her emotions simmered flat. Sophia hoped she remained that way. She’d stressed to Czarina and Ieva on many occasions that the early stages of deprogramming were often the most dangerous. For the deprogrammer and the subject.
But Sophia hadn’t really started. Not yet. ‘Pri-Pri, I need you to answer a few questions.’
Priya didn’t blink. ‘But it’s your turn Sophie, have you rolled your shells?’
Sophia cleared her throat. ‘Yes, I have rolled.’
Ieva whispered loudly. ‘You rolled a six!’
‘I rolled a six,’ Sophia said.
‘You can leave the Charkoni now.’ Priya moved the invisible piece from the center of the invisible board, her hand waving over the bathtub. ‘Yo
ur journey begins. It’s your turn again.’
Sophia shifted closer to the bathtub. ‘Already? OK. But first, can you please tell me about your target in the Berlin nightclub?’
‘Evgeny Sporyshev,’ Priya said. ‘He dances funny.’
‘What were you doing with him?’
‘We took him away, Sophie. We took him far away.’ Priya tilted her head. ‘What did you roll?’
‘Three,’ Sophia said. ‘Where do you take him?’
Priya sang, ‘I’m late, I’m late, for a very important date!’ She moved Sophia’s invisible piece, then said, ‘He has an important meeting in east Berlin and we can’t be late.’
‘What is the meeting for?’ Sophia asked.
Priya’s gaze fell to the inside of the bathtub. ‘I don’t know, Sophie.’
‘Why does the Fifth Column want Evgeny?’ Sophia asked.
‘Kill … kill.’ Priya’s fingers quivered. ‘Turn it off, please! It’s too loud.’
‘Turn what off?’
‘All of us! We’re too loud.’ Priya’s body jerked in the bathtub, limbs twitching. ‘I don’t want to play anymore.’
Too far. Sophia raised her hand. ‘Disregard question.’
‘Pri-Pri is tired. Can I sleep now?’
‘Soon.’ Sophia stepped away from her, to where Ieva feverishly took notes and Czarina stood in silence. ‘It’s important to know the tolerances of the programmed operative. In fact it’s not just important, it’s crucial.’
‘What sort of tolerances?’ Ieva asked.
‘Truth,’ Sophia said. ‘It’s the same for an operative as any person. Our minds can only abandon so many lies at once. We can only accept so much reality.’
‘There’s a capacity for her?’ Czarina asked.
‘She can only be stretched so far,’ Sophia said. ‘And you’re no different.’
Back to the questions, while she had the chance. ‘Priya, do you know what will happen to Evgeny now that you’ve taken him to his important meeting?’
Priya seemed not to hear the question at first, but then, hesitatingly, her lips moved. ‘Put them on ice,’ Priya said. ‘Put them on ice and melt them to dust.’
‘They? How are they melting?’ Soft waves of anxiety emanated from Priya, curled around her. Sophia was pushing too hard. ‘Disregard.’
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