She was already waiting for them at the bus stop outside the airport and waved them over as they got off. As soon as Tripp was close enough, she threw her arms around his shoulders and squeezed tight. “¡Te ves mucho mejor!”
“Oh, don’t go getting all sentimental on me,” Tripp said as he patted her on the back.
Alma pulled away and slugged him in the arm, trying to look stern. “You could have died! You don’t get to tell me not to be sentimental.” She launched into a rant in Spanish that probably would have been too fast for Zira to keep up with even if she’d understood it.
Tripp cut her off after a few seconds. “Okay, okay. Cálmate. I’m sorry.”
“Good. You’d better not run off and pull a stunt like that again, understand?”
“Sure, I understand.”
“Prométeme.”
He scuffed his shoe against the sidewalk. “I can promise I’ll try my best.”
“And that you’ll come talk to me next time instead of just running off and disappearing.”
“I promise. Can we go now?”
Alma’s expression softened. “Yeah. But first, are you sure you want to do this?”
Tripp’s eyes widened. “Seriously? You went to all that work talking me into this and now you want to know if I’m sure?”
“I shouldn’t have pushed you so hard. I was just trying to do my job, and there’s a lot at stake here, but it’s more important to me that you’re okay. You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”
It wasn’t hard to hear the remorse in Alma’s voice, and for a few seconds, Tripp just stood there staring at her. It seemed he might actually take her up on her offer to back out of the situation. Then he turned to Zira with the faintest beginnings of a smile tugging at one corner of his mouth. “You must have put her through one hell of a guilt trip, kid.”
Alma rolled her eyes and muttered something under her breath.
Tripp winked at Zira, then turned back to Alma. “I’m fine, okay? So you can stop feeling bad about whatever it is you think you did wrong. I wouldn’t have come if I couldn’t handle this. But I’d like to get it over with as soon as possible, so if we could get going now, that would be great.”
“Sure. The car’s this way.”
They followed her across the street to a parking lot, where she unlocked a small white sedan. They all climbed inside and Alma entered the prison’s location into the navigation system.
“How is this going to work, exactly?” Zira asked as the car rolled out onto the street.
“The warden will meet us there and take us to an interrogation room to visit Ryku. I was thinking you could go in and talk to him yourself first, if that works for you. Tripp and I will be outside. We’ll be able to see and hear everything through the two-way mirror, but he won’t even know we’re there. I can come in later, but I think we should start with just you to see how he reacts. Is that okay?”
“That’s fine,” Zira replied despite the apprehension that lay coiled in her stomach. There was no logical reason for her to be so nervous. Ryku was in prison. There would be guards everywhere. Alma and Tripp would be right outside to step in if she got into trouble.
Still, her palms felt cold and clammy as she imagined all the ways the meeting might play out. What would he say to her? Would he even be willing to talk to her at all? If she put herself on his radar like this, would he retaliate? His ability to retaliate wasn’t even a question in her mind. He might have been in a prison cell, surrounded by razor wire and guards and concrete walls, but she doubted any of them were truly safe from his ploys.
The rest of their journey was uneventful and silent as all three of them remained adrift in their own contemplations. When they arrived at the prison, a guard at the front security gate checked Alma’s credentials before allowing them to pass through. After the car parked itself in the spot they’d been assigned, they approached the entrance under a gray winter sky, Zira shivered, but it had nothing to do with the cold.
“You okay?” Tripp asked her.
“Yeah. You?”
“I will be when we’re done with this.”
The warden met them in the front lobby. The surname Sisco was stitched across the right front pocket of his uniform. He stepped forward and extended a stiff hand for Alma to shake. “Miss Rosales. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Likewise. Thank you for accommodating us. These are the colleagues I told you about, Zira and Tripp.”
Sisco nodded to each of them, then turned and led the way to another security checkpoint, where they all had to present identification and submit to a quick pat-down. As they continued down the hall, Sisco spoke into his CL. “Block 7, please escort the inmate to interrogation room A.”
They made their way through a maze of corridors until they finally reached a door labeled, “Interrogation A.” The guard who met them there held it open to let them all inside.
A concrete wall with a wide viewing window divided the room into two parts. The larger section they stood in now had been darkened to ensure the person on the other side of the glass couldn’t see through. The interrogation room itself was brightly lit with two doors, one on their side and another on the opposite wall. Aside from the small metal table bolted to the center of the floor between two metal stools, the space was empty and looked as sterile as an operating room.
They all lined up in front of the glass and watched as the door on the far wall opened. Zira clenched her jaw. Beside her, Tripp crossed his arms and shuffled back a couple inches as two guards brought Ryku into the room.
They sat him on one of the stools and looped the chain of his wrist restraints through a ring on the table. Ryku sat as tall and proud as ever, giving no indication in his bearing or expression that prison was having any kind of negative effect on him. His demeanor was more akin to that of a judge presiding over a courtroom than a criminal in a cell.
Still, something about him had changed, at least in Zira’s mind. He’d always seemed larger than life to her. Even when Chase was escorting him out of the compound with his hands bound behind his back, he’d seemed untouchable somehow, as powerful and intimidating as he’d always been. Now, in this tiny interrogation room, he was diminished, shabby and pathetic in a bad-fit neon orange jumpsuit not unlike the one Zira had recently worn. Yellow-green bruises covered the left side of his face, obscuring the old, pale scar that cut across his brow and cheekbone. His nose had been broken recently, but when he looked up, his eyes burned with the same predatory ferocity they’d always held.
Alma turned to Sisco. “What happened to his face?”
“He’s not too popular around here, as you can imagine. Some of these guys are in here because of his push for law and order. Some of the ones who used to be in here are dead now, thanks to all those executions the Project ordered last year.”
She frowned. “He’s supposed to be in solitary confinement.”
“He was, right up until a few weeks ago. We had to rotate him out to get some of the others in—the ones who actually need it. He’s never given us any trouble, always been very polite and respectful. He was the best candidate to go back into general population.”
“Did President Bradshaw approve that?”
“We sent the paperwork. No response yet.”
“You should have waited.”
Sisco stiffened. “I don’t tell you how to do your job, so I’d appreciate if you didn’t tell me how to run my prison. All of you cops and prosecutors and judges send people here and then get to pat yourselves on the back and wash your hands of them. We’re the ones who have to deal with them every day, and in here, it’s the worst of the worst. We do whatever we have to do to maintain some order.”
Alma looked like she wanted to say something else, but Tripp spoke first. “Do you have an incident report from when he was attacked?” His voice was quiet, and his gaze remained fixed on Ryku through the glass.
“Of course.”
“I’d like to see it, please.”
Sisco jerked a nod to the guard at the door. “Get them whatever information they need.”
“Yes, sir.”
Sisco turned back to Alma and Zira. “Well, are you ready to do this or not?”
Zira’s heart began to beat a faster, heavier rhythm against her chest, but she nodded “I’m ready.”
The warden stepped up to the door and pressed his palm to the scanner.
Zira glanced over at Tripp. “I’m right here if you need me,” he said. “Which you won’t, because you’ll be perfect. You can do this.”
She could do this.
Sisco pushed the door open. Zira squared her shoulders, then stepped inside and looked down at the former chairman with carefully controlled impassivity.
“Hello, Ryku.”
CHAPTER TEN
For an instant, a look of confusion flashed over Ryku’s features. He masked the expression with a smile just as quickly. “Zira. What a pleasant surprise. You’re looking well.”
She resisted the urge to comment on his appearance in return, not about to let him goad her into a battle of clever words. She was here to do a job, and the sooner it was over, the better. “I have some questions for you. I’d appreciate your cooperation in answering them.”
“You won’t even spare a moment to catch up with an old teacher?” The hurt in his eyes appeared almost genuine. “Please, have a seat.”
Inviting her to sit down like he owned the place, like he was the one still in control. Zira was reluctant to do as he’d asked, but maybe, if she complied, he would be more willing to cooperate, or at least let his guard down subconsciously.
Then again, maybe not. He was well-practiced in the art of manipulation, after all. She sat down anyway.
“How have you been?” Ryku asked with all the warm informality of a man trying to reconnect with a favorite relative he hadn’t seen in years.
His tone grated against Zira’s patience, but it wasn’t hurting anything. Let him ask his questions and ramble on as much as he liked. The more he talked, the more likely he was to say something that could give them a clue into what he was thinking or planning.
“How are your rebel friends doing?” he went on. “Most of the news in here is just gossip, but I’ve heard some interesting things.”
“I’m sure you have.”
“Is it true they sent you to prison? Aiding and abetting, wasn’t it?” He waited a few moments to give her a chance to answer, but when she didn’t, he continued. “How noble of you and Jared to sacrifice so much for each other. How is he these days? Or did they finally catch him and lock him up, too? What about Judah? I saw him at my trial, but we didn’t get a chance to talk. He seemed a little disappointed by the outcome. I don’t suppose either of them are here with you. Or maybe they just didn’t want to come in and say hello.” His gaze shifted to the reflective glass behind Zira. He raised one hand and waved.
“It’s just you and me. Tripp was smart enough not to subject himself to this.”
“Unlike you, you mean?” Ryku clicked his tongue. “You shouldn’t debase yourself like that. You were always one of my smarter operatives. Reckless, maybe, but smart. You had to be to thrive in a program where almost everyone was bigger and stronger than you. To cheat death and turn my most loyal operative against me. Even I underestimated you.”
Zira resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Did he really think he had anything to gain by stroking her ego? Besides, if he had underestimated anyone, it was Jared. He hadn’t planned on his right-hand man being anything but a completely devoted servant, and that miscalculation had become a tiny crumb in a trail of events leading to his downfall. Even before Jared had opened the compound gate to allow the rebels inside, losing him had to have been a severe blow to the chairman who thought he controlled everything.
The silence stretched on a while longer. Ryku leaned forward, and the chain between his wrists rustled as he clasped his hands together in front of him. “Why are you here?”
“I told you. I have some questions, if you’re done with the small talk.”
“Are these your questions, or your rebel friends’?”
He knew the answer to that, so there was no point in trying to pretend otherwise. “The Republic asked me to come.”
“Still sending you to do their dirty work. I see not much has changed.”
Zira shrugged. “You’re in here, I’m out there. Plenty has changed.”
“Touché. Ask your questions then. I can’t promise I’ll answer them.”
“Do you know a man named Shawn Carlson?”
He shook his head. “Not personally, but I hear he recently tried to assassinate Chase Bradshaw. I suppose your friends think I had something to do with it.”
“He did mention you by name. You’re the most obvious suspect.”
Ryku gave a small shrug of indifference. “The most obvious suspect isn’t always the culprit. Sometimes you have to look beyond what’s right in front of you. For example, I never would have suspected your friend Aubreigh was a traitor, but you remember how that turned out.”
Zira’s deadpan expression faltered. Hearing Aubreigh’s name out of his mouth so sudden and casual caught her off guard. It shouldn’t have. She should have expected him to throw that at her at some point. Clenching a fist under the table, she forced her features into flat indifference and stared back at him. It took her longer than it should have to remember where the conversation had been going just moments ago.
“That struck a nerve,” said Ryku. “I apologize. Let’s get back to your question. No, I don’t know the man who tried to assassinate Bradshaw, and I wasn’t involved in any way. How could I be, locked up in here?”
“I’m sure you could come up with something, if you wanted to.”
“You give me far too much credit. If you want my advice, though I’m sure you don’t, you might try looking into this PEACE Restoration Movement. I hear they’ve been causing some trouble for your little Republic lately.”
“Some are even claiming they want to give power back to you.”
“So I’ve heard.”
“Why do you think that is?”
He let out a short, low laugh. “That’s not a serious question, is it? Did you and your friends honestly expect this to be easy? Running a country is anything but easy. Of course there’s resistance. There always is, whenever substantial changes are made. And contrary to what you all seem to think, the PEACE Project was not a defective system, nor was I the villain you all consider me to be. I just wanted to keep people safe. I wanted the best for this country, the same as Bradshaw and the Republic.”
Zira wasn’t sure if his manipulation tactics were working or if he was actually telling the truth, but for whatever reason, she was inclined to believe him. At least partially. “If you really want what’s best for this country, then tell me what you know about the PRM. Before they can cause any serious damage.”
“What I know? I know nothing. I have nothing to do with their movement. I didn’t want this, and I’m certainly not involved.”
“And you expect me to just take you at your word?”
“I don’t care what you do. But I’m telling you—you and whoever else is listening out there. You need to look elsewhere. Questioning me is a waste of everyone’s time.” Once again, he directed his attention to the window behind her. “I’m done talking now. We can all sit here and watch while Zira and I twiddle our thumbs, but I’m not saying anything else.”
She sighed and stood up. If Ryku said he was done, he was done. They weren’t going to get any more information out of him than what he’d already provided.
The door opened, and she walked through to the opposite side of the glass to stand beside the others. Tripp was busy looking through files on a data pad and didn’t even look up at her. Alma crossed her arms and chewed on her bottom lip as two guards came in to escort Ryku back to his cell.
“Well?” said Sisco. “Did you get the intel you needed?”
“I�
��m not sure,” Alma replied. “Would you give us a few more minutes?”
“Sure. I’ll have one of the guards wait outside the door. They can show you out when you’re done here.”
“Thank you again for arranging this.”
Sisco gave her one final nod, then left them alone in the dimly-lit room.
Alma turned to Zira. “You did great in there. You okay?”
“Yeah.” She would be, anyway, once her sympathetic nervous system caught up with the fact that the perceived threat was gone.
“So what do you think? Was he telling the truth?”
“For the most part, yes. I’m still not totally convinced he isn’t involved with the PRM, but I don’t think he even knew about Carlson or the assassination attempt before it happened.”
“So Carlson acted on his own,” Alma said, “or the PRM did it without any prompting from Ryku.”
“Chase has other enemies besides Ryku, and you have to admit, the whole thing wasn’t planned very well. Not Ryku’s style at all.”
“True.”
Zira turned to Tripp, who still hadn’t so much as glanced up from the data pad. “Tripp? You want to weigh in here?”
“That slippery old rat,” he muttered, shaking his head.
Zira exchanged a glance with Alma, and when Tripp didn’t say anything else, she prodded him further. “Care to expand on that?”
“Look at this.” He showed them the document he’d been looking over. “This is the incident report for Ryku’s altercation with some other inmates two weeks ago. None of it was caught on camera, and he didn’t snitch, so they don’t say for sure who was responsible. They just list the names of the people who were suspected to be involved. Here—McKinley, Frazier, Coates, Davis.”
He closed the incident report and pulled up a new document. “This is from the day after. Davis and another inmate were sent to solitary confinement for fighting. This other inmate reported that the fight started because Davis took his sandwich. Davis claims he didn’t do anything.”
Survivors of PEACE Page 7
