by Sam Sisavath
Xiao remembered what Joan—or the woman who was calling herself Joan—had said before either the Rhim or one of their allies blew her brains out:
“They’re moving things around, adjusting personnel because of what happened at the Wilshire. It feels like they’re scrambling, trying to rebuild what they lost and not being nearly as careful with covering their tracks as a result.”
“How did you get me out of there?” Xiao asked.
“The old-fashioned way,” Amelie said. “I caught them by surprise, otherwise I don’t think we would have made it out. The first guard was easy; he didn’t see it coming.” She reached behind her back and brought out a metal rod about a foot long. “You know what this is?”
“Oh yeah,” Xiao nodded. Just seeing one again up close made her reach up and rub her left shoulder. It still hurt whenever she thought about that night at the alley.
“I heard about that,” Amelie said. “The alleyway fight. You took out four of them.”
“Three, actually.”
“Still impressive.”
“I have my moments. How many were back there?”
“Four.”
“Not bad.”
Amelie smiled and put the staff away. “I have my moments, too.”
“You guys carry that everywhere?”
“No. But I brought it along because I didn’t want to leave it behind, now that my identity’s burned.” She shrugged. “It has sentimental value.”
“It’s a tool of the enemy.”
“Yes, well, that doesn’t preclude it from also having sentimental value.”
“I guess not.” Then, “Was one of the four you took out Hofheinz, by any chance?”
Amelie shook her head. “He was gone, along with the bulk of the security. That’s the only reason I even tried to get you out of there. Otherwise I would have been hopelessly outgunned, and we’d both be dead right now.”
“Still, four. That’s not bad.”
“Thanks,” Amelie said, and Xiao thought she even blushed a bit.
“Where did he go? Hofheinz?”
“Another temporary hub,” Amelie said, before her face darkened noticeably. “They have Quinn and Sarah.”
“Shit,” Xiao said. Then, exactly three seconds later, “Who the hell is Sarah?”
Amelie told her the rest of the story as they drove, taking a few small roads before merging onto the I-10 highway and becoming lost in the flow of evening traffic heading out of the city. Xiao sat in the front passenger seat and listened to what had happened to Quinn and Aaron. She learned about Sarah and a reporter named Zoe, who Xiao remembered from the local channels but never really thought much about. There were a few other names that didn’t mean anything to her but were at the scene where the others were captured, and were now presumed dead.
“As soon as it came through the official channels that they were transporting the captives to another hub, I knew Hofheinz and his security detail would be on their way to meet them there,” Amelie said. “It was then or never.”
“Why Hofheinz? Why is it always him?”
“Hofheinz is a unique commodity. The Rhim don’t really have a lot of people who can do what he does. I know it’s hard to believe, because he’s such a despicable human being, but the man really is good at what he does.”
Xiao tightened her grip around the SIG Sauer Amelie had given her that she had rested in her lap since they started moving again and wondered how “unique” Hofheinz would be if she put a bullet through that insectlike face of his.
“What about Porter?” Xiao asked.
“Porter,” Amelie said, as if just saying his name was painful for her.
Xiao glanced over. “You know him, don’t you?”
“Of course I know him.”
“I mean, you know him.”
Amelie hesitated before finally nodding.
“Then how are you still alive?” Xiao asked.
“You mean, after he was turned?”
“Exactly.”
“It’s hard to explain…”
“Try anyway.”
“Porter doesn’t remember who I am.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I told you, it’s hard to explain.”
“Keep trying.”
“The chair. You know what it can do.”
The statement made the hairs along both her arms and at the back of her neck stand up, and she might have even shuddered.
You mean like make me fall in love with Porter? Make me think we were going to live happily ever after in a mansion of our own?
She nodded instead.
“There are ways to replicate what the chair can do,” Amelie said. “But on a much smaller scale. After Porter went rogue, I helped him in any capacity I could. When the Rhim got too close, I was the one who warned him. How do you think he was able to stay one step ahead of them for five years, despite all of the Rhim’s resources?”
“You?”
“Me.”
That answers a lot.
There had been so many times when she couldn’t understand how Porter knew the things he did, but suddenly it all made sense. The man had been getting inside help all this time but had never let her or Aaron in on it.
You and your secrets, Porter.
“When they captured him and Quinn, I did the best I could to help them,” Amelie said. “It wasn’t until later, after you guys went in there like Rambo, that I found out Porter was actually in the same place all that time and that they hadn’t already moved him out of the city.”
“How did you know Quinn was there but not Porter?”
Amelie shook her head. “I don’t know why the Rhim does most of the things it does. I’m not exactly high up in the totem pole, Xiao. In my day job, I’m a government auditor.”
Xiao couldn’t help but smile. “You did pretty good back there, for an accountant.”
“I got lucky. I caught them by surprise. You were the only, uh, customer they had. That room you were in? It was the only one in the entire building.”
“Lucky or not, I’m glad you’re on my side.”
“Thanks.”
“So back to Porter. Why didn’t he give you up when they turned him?”
“He didn’t remember me,” Amelie said.
“Now you’ve lost me again.”
“Like I said, there’s a way to replicate some of the chair’s abilities. Some. Before we parted ways, Porter made me inject a command into his subconscious mind where if he’s ever turned he would forget everything about me.”
“Everything?”
Amelie nodded. There was a sadness on her face that was hard to miss.
“How do you know it worked?” Xiao asked.
“Because they never came for me after Porter was finally turned. You saw him—the new him.”
Xiao nodded, and this time it was her turn to be solemn as she remembered Porter, in that white room with Hofheinz telling the Rhim’s butcher to “Do what you have to do” in order to break her.
“It definitely worked,” Amelie said. “He doesn’t remember me. He probably wouldn’t know who I am if we walked past one another in the hallway.”
“I’m sorry,” Xiao said.
“Yeah, me too.”
They drove in silence for a while, and one mile became two, then five.
Xiao didn’t know which one of them was sadder about Porter. Or maybe it was the same amount of sadness, but for different reasons. At least, she thought it was for different reasons.
Finally, Amelie said, “You know what this means, don’t you?”
“Know what what means?”
“Porter.”
“What about him?”
“He’s been turned. He’s one of them again now.”
“I think we already went over that. What’s your point?”
Amelie looked over and smiled.
“What?” Xiao said, getting slightly annoyed.
“I don’t know what happened or who’s pulling th
e strings, but Porter’s on an even higher level within the organization now than when he went off the reservation six years ago.”
Xiao shook her head. “So? Why are you smiling like that’s good for us?”
“Don’t you get it? He has access to things now that he didn’t before. He knows more.”
It took a few seconds before she did finally “get it.” She wanted to blame it on the after effects of the chair still clouding her mind, but maybe it was more that she just never had a chance to think about what Porter’s betrayal meant because every time she thought of him, all she could recall was him telling Hofheinz to “do what you have to do,” and then walking away as if she didn’t matter, as if they hadn’t spent five years running and hiding together.
But it made sense, and she remembered what he had said to her, back in the dream (Is that what it was? A dream?):
“What is Red Sky?” she had asked him.
He had smiled, and answered, “I can’t tell you that.”
“But you know what it is.”
“Yes.”
She had forgotten about the conversation because she couldn’t believe anything that had happened while she was in the chair. But how much of it was a lie? All of it, or just some? Was there any truth to those hours with Porter in the mansion? She wasn’t sure. She wasn’t sure of anything when it came to the chair.
“You think he knows what it is,” Xiao finally said. “You think he knows what Red Sky is.”
Amelie nodded. “I think there’s someone in the Rhim that has a very special interest in Porter. They wanted him back desperately, and now that he is back, he’s been allowed access to things he never was before.”
“That’s a bit of a reach.”
“There’s only one way to find out, and the people I’m taking you to can help us with it.”
“Do these people have a name?” Then, when Amelie grinned at her, “Tell me you’re not taking me to a bunch of Sons of Porters.”
“Run into a few bad ones?”
“And a few good ones, but it’s hard to know who to trust.”
“You won’t have to worry about these SOPs.”
“What makes them so special?”
“You ever wondered who kept supplying Porter with all his resources? All those safe houses around the world?”
“Are you saying…?”
Amelie nodded. “You’re about to meet him. In person.”
Chapter 24
Quinn
“Your father would be so mad at me right now.”
The words bounced back and forth inside her head as soon as she regained consciousness and sat up in the chair.
The chair!
No, not the chair. A chair.
She was strapped to it, her arms bent around its cold metal frame and tied into place; a second pair bound her wrists together. It was the same with her legs—they were restrained at the ankles, then fastened against the chair with another set around her calves. Four sets of restraints in all.
Jesus. Talk about overkill…
The image of Sarah, half-blackened by the blast that had destroyed the RV and lying on the pavement, returned to her:
“Your father would be so mad at me right now.”
Her head was pounding, two jackhammers trying to see which one would be the first to penetrate her skull. It hurt, but at least she was alive, with Sarah’s words thumping at the edges of her mind:
“Your father would be so mad at me right now.”
My father? What was she talking about? Did she know my father?
Her eyes flew open to darkness, which was unexpected. She was in some kind of enclosed room and the uncomfortable seat was like sitting on concrete blocks. Trying to move her arms and legs only hurt her joints, so she stopped.
Definitely overkill.
Quinn forced herself to calm down as her eyes started to adjust to the darkness. Gradually, she was able to make out the walls to her left and right—they were steel plates with inch-or-so long ridges that ran vertical from the top to bottom. The ceiling started to come into focus—more steel—and she guessed the height at seven to eight feet. The room would have been all metal if not for the floor, which was flat wood. She couldn’t begin to tell what was behind her or how long the room was.
What is this place?
It didn’t look anything like the white room she’d woken up to before with Hofheinz staring at her. That should have made her feel better, but it only brought up more questions, and the not knowing was somehow worse.
There was definitely an odd smell to the air, like she was surrounded by leftover food that hadn’t quite rotted but was getting there. At first she thought it was her own sweat, a combination of body odor and fear clinging to her skin. But it wasn’t that; it was very much this place they had put her in.
There was a slight pain coming from her right shoulder where they had stuck her with the needle—when? An hour ago? Days ago? She couldn’t tell if it was day or night outside. There was no window in the room to allow in any natural sunlight, though she thought she could hear the sounds of…what were those noises?
Quinn closed her eyes and slowed down her breathing. She had been hyperventilating slightly but hadn’t realized it until now. She began counting backward from one hundred until the noises outside increased and she could make out…machinery and voices. Short, clipped conversations. And something else—gusts of wind against the outside wall?
And then, from out of nowhere, breathing.
Behind her!
Quinn turned her head, or as much as she was able while locked down in the chair. “I can hear you back there.”
There was a soft chuckle from somewhere in the back of the room. “You heard me breathing.” Male and deep, and very familiar. “Your senses are getting better. Pretty soon you’ll be as strong as me. Maybe stronger, if the eggheads are correct.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” She kept her voice as level as possible. Stay calm. Stay calm... “Where am I? What is this place?”
“That’s all you care about, Quinn? After everything that happened?”
“After what happened?”
“Sarah, Aaron, and the others.”
Quinn paused as Sarah’s words came back to her again: “Your father would be so mad at me right now.”
My father? How does she know my father?
“Are they okay?” Quinn asked.
“They’re alive.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“Too bad.”
A flash of anger that she had to temper down. “What are you doing sitting in the dark like some asshole? You’re not playing with yourself back there, are you?”
Her “roommate” chuckled again. He sounded amused with her—or maybe that was just a very convincing act. “You must have mistaken me for Ringo. He’s the only asshole I know.”
“You should look in the mirror more often, then.”
“Let’s keep this civil, shall we?”
“What’s civil about locking me in a smelly room and binding my arms and legs? I’m really getting sick and tired of it, by the way. The next person who knocks me out and puts me in a room is going to get my fist shoved down their throat.”
“It’s for your own good. Just in case you get feisty.”
“Feisty? Is that what you call it when someone tries to get away from her abductors?”
He didn’t answer.
“What’s the matter, no more lame excuses?” Quinn said.
“Where is Xiao?” he asked her.
The question caught her off guard. “What?”
“Xiao.”
“I heard you the first time.”
“Where is she?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, while thinking, Xiao? Why is he asking me about Xiao? She’s dead, you idiot.
Isn’t she?
“She escaped this afternoon,” the man said.
Escaped?
Xiao’s alive!
Another flush of emotion, this time exhilaration and happiness, and it was all Quinn could do not to scream out in joy.
“She had help, from the looks of it,” her captor continued. “We haven’t been able to figure out who it was, though. Someone with intimate knowledge of Rhim operations. They attacked the temporary hub where we were keeping Xiao. The security there was lacking at the time.”
You’re alive, Xiao. You’re alive!
Goddamn, girl, I should have known you wouldn’t go out that easy.
She grinned to herself, thankful the man couldn’t see from behind her. “And here I thought the Rhim was a lean mean machine. Glad I was wrong.”
“Small hiccups happen all the time; it’s nothing we can’t handle.”
The man stood up, the fabric of his pants ruffling slightly in the closed confines of the room, and walked around her. The warmth of his body brushed up against her in the dark just before there was a click, and a single lightbulb, dangling from the ceiling almost directly in front of her (Was that there the whole time?), slowly buzzed to life.
Porter stood in front of her, hands in his pockets. He gazed down at her, as if this was the first time they had ever met one another. And maybe it was, in a way: The Porter she remembered had a different face, but even with the lightbulb shining in her eyes, she knew it was him. If she had even entertained a little doubt after seeing him on Aaron’s laptop screen, she had none now, up close.
It’s you. It’s really you.
Sort of…
“You recognize me,” he said. It wasn’t a question. “You can see through the new face, can’t you? Xiao saw through me, too.”
Because she’s alive. Xiao is still alive!
“You’re a hard man to forget, Porter,” she said instead.
“I should take that as a compliment.”
“You can take it however you want.”
“Compliment it is.” Then, “It’s not the first time, you know.”
“So how many times have you screwed up an assassination?”
He smiled. “You heard about that.”
