Alma raised an eyebrow. “So?”
“The man he allegedly stole from is almost twice his size. He had no business picking a fight with someone like that. It doesn’t make sense.”
“It’s a sandwich,” Alma said flatly. “None of it makes sense, and I’m not sure how it’s supposed to be connected to Ryku getting jumped.”
“Yeah, okay, fine. Ignore the sandwich. The important thing is that Davis ended up in solitary for something he claims he didn’t do the day after he attacked Ryku.”
Alma gave Zira a doubtful look, but she just shrugged in response. As much as she wanted to believe this was all a coincidence, a nagging voice in the back of her mind whispered that Tripp might be on to something bigger. “What else?”
“Coates and McKinley were cellmates. Last week, guards searched their cell and found drugs and a few improvised weapons. Both of them got two months in solitary and had their visitation privileges revoked.”
She clenched her jaw. Ryku. It had to be. “I’m guessing the fourth guy ended up in the hole, too?”
Tripp shook his head. “Good guess, but no. Frazier was already scheduled to be released the day after the attack. Even though the guards suspected his involvement, there was no proof, so they let him out anyway. He bought a bus pass to the South Pacific region and left, no problem. But I ran a quick search on the Net, and there’s this news story from two days ago about a murder in that same area. Any guesses what the victim’s name was?”
“Frazier,” Alma said.
“Yep. Found dead inside his new apartment, multiple stab wounds. Law enforcement is still investigating.”
Zira sucked in a cold breath and looked at Tripp. His eyes reflected the same fear that was beginning to seep back into her own mind. If Ryku was actually capable of orchestrating murders from within the prison, they were in even greater danger than she’d previously believed. All of them—her, Tripp, Jared, Chase, and anyone else he viewed as a personal enemy.
Alma shook her head. “They never should have put him back in general population. I’ll talk to Chase about it.”
Zira wasn’t sure how much good that would do, but it was better than nothing. She looked over her shoulder, her skin crawling with the sudden urge to leave. “Are we done here?”
“I am. Tripp?”
“Yeah. But you might want to get a copy of these records.”
“I will. Let’s go.”
She knocked on the door, and the guard standing outside unlocked it to let them out of the room. They followed him back through the winding corridors of the prison to the main entrance, then walked to their waiting car in silence. Alma put a destination into the autopilot system, and soon they’d left the surveillance drones and razor-wire fences far behind them.
After a few more miles, Alma broke the contemplative silence. “How certain are you two that Ryku was behind Frazier’s death?”
Tripp gave her an incredulous look. “Are you serious?”
“It could have been someone else, right? That’s a possibility. Multiple stab wounds would indicate a crime of passion more than a carefully planned attack.”
“Or that’s how Ryku wanted it to look,” said Zira.
Tripp nodded in agreement. “Combined with everything else, I don’t see how there’s much room for doubt.”
Alma’s brows drew together in a scowl. “If he was able to communicate with people on the outside to arrange that murder, he could be communicating with the PRM, too. We need to figure out if that’s really what he’s doing. And why.” She scrunched her mouth to one side and glanced out the window. “You know, I could really use some more people in my department to help with that. People I can trust. Would you two be interested?”
Zira raised her eyebrows. “Work for you? On this?”
“Well, sort of. You’d be working for the National Security Department, but under my division, Special Investigations and Operations. I was thinking I could put you both on one of our lead teams. Zira could run it. And Tripp, you’d make a great technical support specialist.”
Zira gave her a skeptical look. She needed a job, and she hadn’t planned on being choosy about the kind of work she was willing to take, but she couldn’t help being hesitant about this particular job. The prospect of working under Alma was fine, but she had some justifiable misgivings about being employed by the Republic. She’d worked for a different government before, and that hadn’t ended well for her. The last time she’d worked with the key players in the current government, she’d ended up in prison and Tripp had relapsed. Was agreeing to work with them again really in either of their best interests?
“Oh, don’t give me that look,” Alma said. “You need work—both of you. And as long as you don’t do anything incredibly stupid, we shouldn’t have any problems.”
“I assume this job might require me to carry a gun once in a while?” Zira asked. “I’m still on parole.”
Alma waved a hand. “I’ll call your parole officer. You’d be amazed how much authority I have these days.”
“I’m glad to see it’s not going to your head,” Tripp teased.
Alma just shook her head. “I’m serious. We could really use you both. The PRM is getting more aggressive, and now it seems Ryku might be involved. We need loyal people with specialized skills who understand how he operates.”
She had a point. But Zira had to think about Tripp now, too. She tried to get a read on what he might be thinking, but when their eyes met, he just shrugged.
Having something to keep him busy might be a good thing. If he kept his mind occupied, maybe the pull to use heroin again wouldn’t weigh on him so much. Then again, working as part of a team to take down the PRM could put them right in the middle of all the triggers that had sent him spiraling down that road in the first place. If Ryku really was involved in this, if the PRM destabilized the nation to the point that the Republic lost control, or if a mission went wrong and people died—would Tripp be able to handle that, or would he just go right back to his destructive coping mechanisms?
“What are you thinking?” she asked him.
“I’m up for it if you are.” His eyes were bright and full of purpose in a way they hadn’t been since Zira had found him in that abandoned house.
“He’ll be closer to Rita,” said Alma. “He can go to some of the support groups she runs in the evenings, and if he gets into any kind of trouble, she’ll be right there to help.”
“I appreciate you asking for my opinion on that,” Tripp said. “What if I don’t want to go to a support group?”
“I’ll drag you there myself if I have to,” Alma growled.
“Relax. I think it’s a great idea. And it might be helpful to be closer to Rita.”
That was all Zira needed to make up her mind.
Then she remembered what Jared had said about not letting the Republic have all the power. He was right. If they wanted something from her, they should be willing to give her something in return. And since the cards seemed to be in her hands now, she knew just the thing to ask for.
If Alma and Chase could be objective about it, they’d see it was something that could benefit them, too. They were smart people. They might not like her request, but they’d see the sense in it. She was reasonably sure of that.
Sure enough to gamble Jared’s freedom on it, anyway.
“All right,” she said. “I’ll do it. But I’m going to need something from you, first.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Late in the afternoon, Jared answered the knock on his hotel room door to let Zira and Tripp inside. “How was it?” he asked.
“Strange,” Zira said. “Very strange.” She slumped onto the couch and stretched her legs out in front of her. Tripp took the spot beside her, and Jared sat down on the nearby bed.
“Did you learn anything useful?”
“Tripp did. I’m not sure I was much help.”
“I just put the pieces together,” Tripp said. “You did all the hard stuff.”
“Ryku managed to kill a guy a few days ago,” Zira explained. “Or arranged for him to be killed.”
The news didn’t come as much of a surprise to Jared. “Why would he do that?”
“Some of his fellow inmates jumped him a while back. He got the others sent to solitary confinement, but this guy was already scheduled for release. Police found him stabbed to death in his apartment, which I doubt was just a coincidence.”
“You and everyone else in this room,” said Tripp.
“What about the PRM?” Jared asked.
“He’s not working with them,” Zira said in a mocking tone. “He only has this country’s best interests at heart, you know. We’re certain he didn’t have anything to do with the assassination attempt last week, though.”
“We knew that already. It was a poorly executed plan.”
“That’s what I told Alma. And speaking of Alma….” She pulled her feet in and sat up straight. Her eyes flickered across his face, and she hesitated a few moments before speaking again. “I have a proposition for you. You’re probably going to be mad, and I know it wasn’t my place to say anything without asking you first, but please trust me. Okay?”
Jared’s eyes narrowed. “What did you do?” Did he even want to know the answer?
“Alma offered Tripp and I a job with the National Security Department. She wants people who have experience with Ryku and the PEACE Project to try and get ahead of this PRM thing before it escalates any further. I was thinking about what you said, and it seemed like an opportunity I should take advantage of.”
“Meaning what, exactly?” He glanced at Tripp, who was listening to the conversation with rapt attention but had his arms folded tight across his chest.
Zira raised her chin. “I told Alma I knew someone who could help.”
Him. She meant him. Jared felt like a heavy block of ice had just dropped into his stomach. “No.”
“She’s going to ask Chase to drop all charges against you. I said it was the only way I’d be willing to work with them.”
He clenched his jaw. “No.”
“I didn’t tell her you were here. I just said I knew how to contact you. Look, I know you’re mad, and I’m sorry, but you shouldn’t have to hide forever.”
He stood up. “You had no right!”
“I know.”
“You should have asked me.”
“I didn’t think you’d agree to it.”
“Because it’s a terrible idea.”
“It’s not a terrible idea. Do you really want to spend the rest of your life on the run?”
“You don’t,” Tripp said. “Trust me, I’ve been there.”
Jared shot him a glare.
“I was trying to do a good thing,” Zira said.
“Maybe you don’t know what’s good for everyone else.” He could feel himself teetering on the threshold of shouting or saying something he didn’t really mean and would regret later. He didn’t want to do that, not when he and Zira had just barely started to repair their relationship. He grabbed his coat from the back of a chair and headed for the door. “I’m going for a walk.”
“Jared, wait.”
“I just need a few minutes.” He stepped outside, shoved his arms into the coat, and started walking, not really caring where his feet carried him.
His hands balled into fists deep in his pockets, and his breath fogged out in front of him as he silently fumed at Zira’s decision. How naïve was she? How could she trust these people after everything they’d done to her? It didn’t even matter if she trusted them or not, because he didn’t. For her to reveal that he’d been in contact with her and might even be willing to help them was reckless and irresponsible on all counts. She’d put him at risk for no reason. More importantly, she’d put herself at risk by admitting she’d spoken with him and hadn’t immediately notified the authorities.
And what made her think he even wanted to help the Republic? Ryku may have been a tyrant, but the Project itself hadn’t been inherently corrupt. Or it wasn’t intended to be. Was the Republic truly any better? Jared wasn’t sure, but after everything he’d been through as a member of the Project, he couldn’t help being skeptical of getting mixed up in the new government’s plans. As far as he could tell, he’d still end up behind a gun, waiting to pull the trigger on someone else’s orders. Was that how he wanted to live his life?
Did it even matter what he wanted? It wasn’t like he knew how to do anything else. The Project had prepared him for a lot of things, but living a normal life wasn’t one of them. Neither was spending the rest of his life as a fugitive.
Still, if he agreed to this, there was nothing to stop Alma or her people from arresting him as soon as he came forward to accept their deal. Zira seemed to trust them, but that wasn’t exactly a guarantee. There was nothing concrete to protect him from being played and spending the rest of his life in a prison cell.
Maybe that was what he deserved.
He clenched his fists tighter and picked up his pace. That was the harsh reality of it all, wasn’t it? A reality he didn’t want to accept. Some of the things he’d done on Ryku’s orders were wrong, but that didn’t mean he was willing to pay the penalty they wanted him to. If he was, he would have turned himself in a long time ago.
Or maybe he was willing, at least partially. He’d thought about handing himself over so many times before. Especially in the beginning, there had been a constant, nagging voice in the guiltiest parts of his mind, whispering that he didn’t deserve to be free, that he should be standing trial and serving out his sentence like all the other E-2 operatives the rebels had captured. And it would be so much easier not to have to hide anymore, or worry about someone recognizing him, or what he’d do when his money ran out.
But then he remembered Zira taking the rifle from the woman who would have shot him and screaming at him to run. She’d gone to prison for letting him escape, and if he turned himself in, her sacrifice would have been for nothing.
Or maybe that was just what he wanted to believe because it made him feel better.
He stopped walking and found himself standing in front of an old, recently deserted fuel station and convenience store, probably abandoned when former employees left in search of better opportunities elsewhere. The windows were shattered, and if anything of value had been there before, looters had already taken it. Inside, an old PEACE Project propaganda poster rustled against the wall as the wind blew behind it. “Don’t side with the enemy,” it proclaimed in bold letters against a menacing, shadowed figure in the background. “Report suspicious activity.”
Report suspicious activity. Law and order. Peace and stability. No matter the cost. Words Jared had once lived by.
Words that had sent thousands of people to their deaths and thousands more to a lifetime of imprisonment.
He’d helped Ryku build that country—the one where people lived in fear of making a single wrong move and faced severe consequences if they ever dared to voice disagreement with the Project. He’d killed dozens of radicals whose only real crimes were refusing to accept the Project’s control and fighting for the freedoms they believed all people deserved. Radicals who were not the menacing, faceless enemies the poster portrayed, but were instead people he knew. People like Seth, Aubreigh, and Tripp. People like Zira.
Jared would never again blindly follow anyone or anything, and the Republic had its own issues, but they at least seemed dedicated to providing the same peace and stability the Project had promised without resorting to harsh scare tactics and brutal punishments. If he really wanted to make things right, preventing the PRM from throwing the country into further chaos seemed like a good start. That is, if the Republic would even take him.
Either they’d accept Zira’s proposition and drop the charges against him in exchange for his cooperation, or he’d be arrested, put on trial, and sent to prison. Whatever happened, he’d be making amends for his crimes. Maybe that would ease some of the weight on his conscience. An
d he wouldn’t have to hide anymore, constantly looking over his shoulder in fear that the Republic or Ryku’s vengeance were closing in on him.
If he was lucky, he might even get to work with Zira again. The thought brought on a rush of fond memories and a warm, soaring sense of optimism, which he immediately bottled up and buried before his hopes got too high.
He walked through the convenience store door, broken glass cracking as he crunched it under his feet. The poster fluttered in the breeze one last time before Jared reached forward and pulled it down. He tore it into tiny pieces and let them fall to be scattered in every direction, then headed back to give Zira his decision.
* * *
Zira and Tripp were still in his room when he got back to the motel. He could hear their muffled voices through the door but couldn’t understand anything they were saying. They stopped talking as soon as he came inside. Zira stared up at him from the couch with a challenge in her eyes, just waiting for him to start another argument. Tripp looked between the two of them with nervous apprehension.
“I’m sorry,” Jared said. “I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did.”
Zira blinked, and her expression lost some of its animosity. “You had every right to be angry. I’m sorry I didn’t ask you first.”
“No, you were right. I would have said no.”
“You can still say no.”
He shook his head and sat down on the bed. “I’ll do it.”
“Are you sure?”
“If you trust them, that’s good enough for me.” It wasn’t, really, but it was the best he was going to get for now.
“Okay. I’ll call Alma in the morning. Chase still has to agree to it, but she seemed to think she could convince him.”
“Oh, she can,” said Tripp. “I’ve never known Alma to not get her way when she really wants something. And besides, there’s no reason for him to say no.”
Jared grunted. “Aside from the fact that I’m a wanted criminal who used to be Ryku’s dog, you mean.”
“You just were just following orders,” Zira said. “Like I was. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
Survivors of PEACE Page 8
