Legacy: The Girl in the Box #8 (4 page)

He didn’t show much emotion at that. “It doesn’t pay to dwell too deeply on that, but I’ll tell you the U.S. government has this new piece of property out in the desert in Arizona that we just seized from the previous owner. It’s an underground prison. We had to do a bit of restaffing since Omega’s assault on the place, but it’s fully operational once more and there’s plenty of room for another guest to stay there.” He raised an eyebrow. “If need be.”

I thought about it. “Someone told me once that you had your own prison.”

He shook his head. “Never needed one. We handed over our captives to the Directorate.”

I pictured Zack in my mind. “Why would someone lie about that?”

“They probably thought it was true,” Foreman said. “If we wanted people to know we were in bed with the Directorate, we wouldn’t have worked so hard to hide all the links.” He was watching me carefully. “You’re not asking the question.”

I shrugged. “What question?”

“The obvious one,” Foreman said. “The one that new senators and congressmen ask within minutes of being briefed on the existence of metahumans and our history policing them.” Foreman leaned over to look me in the eyes, just a foot from my face. “You haven’t asked why we didn’t get back in that business after the Agency was destroyed.”

I shrugged again. “I already know the answer.” I waited for a reaction from him, but I got none. Recalling what I’d read in the file on the way over here, I kept going. “You don’t have a direct meta policing Agency because Sovereign made it clear to you that if the United States Government ever opened one again, he’d scorch it to the ground along with whatever city it was standing in.”

Foreman gave me a sad smile. “He did indeed. Everyone says he has the juice to carry through with that threat, too. But you have to admit, in light of everything that’s going on right now, with his Boys and Girls Club so close to wiping out the rest of the meta species ... that just doesn’t seem to matter all that much anymore.”

Foreman unlocked my hands and led me out of the confinement room. I was massaging my wrists the whole time but was so glad to be standing and walking that I ignored the feeling of pins and needles running down my legs which had partially fallen asleep from sitting in the same position for so long. I didn’t much care for the feeling, but it passed quickly enough. Foreman led me into a dimly lit concrete hall. He beckoned me to follow him and I did, stopping outside the next door.

“What?” I was so fatigued I hadn’t even asked him where we were going before we left the room. Not that I really needed a destination; I was sick enough of the confinement room that he could have told me he was leading me off to dump my body in a nearby swamp and I’d likely have gone along willingly.

“Go in,” Foreman said, scanning a key card from his pocket against the panel next to the door.

I waited for him to open it, but I’m sure a quizzical expression crossed my features. “And do what?”

“The first part of your job for us,” Foreman said, straitlaced and quiet now.

I tried to think it out, but was just too tired. “Unless Sovereign is standing behind that door and you want me to beat him to death, I’m going to need more direction.”

“You’ll see,” Foreman said, and there was a squeal of the door handle as he started to open it. “You’re not just the tip of the spear for us, not just here to get in fights and get your knuckles bloody. We need more from you than that.”

I let out an exhausted sigh. “You’ve got me over a barrel here, and I’m friggin’ exhausted, so if you could just please spit out what you want me to do and be specific, that’d be great.”

“You’ll need a team,” Foreman said, annoying the hell out of me with his wise man routine. He opened the door the rest of the way and then indicated I should enter. “Start here. I’ll wait outside. Knock on the door when you’re done.”

I wanted to glare at him but I didn’t have the energy, so I just stepped into the room. It was a cell not unlike the one I’d just been in. There was a man sitting in middle of it, though he was on the floor, his chair already a shattered mess, broken into pieces just underneath the one-way window. I recognized him instantly by his curly blond locks and his ruddy complexion, and he jolted upright at the sight of me, rising to his feet.

“I see you went with the rebellious option,” I said to Scott Byerly as Foreman closed the door behind me, locking me in with my friend in the otherwise empty cell.

He gave me a dismissive incline of the head, a half-shrug. “Like I know any other way.”

I felt the tension bleed out of me in a half-laugh. I closed the distance to him in two steps and threw my arms around his neck and pulled close, taking care not to knock him off balance. For metas, with our super strength, this is a very real concern. I felt him reciprocate, his strong arms crossing my back, and I let out a little laugh that was halfway between a choked cry and a sob of joy. “I’m so glad to see you, Scott.”

“It’s only been a couple weeks,” he said as we pulled back from each other.

“I know,” I said, “but it feels like ... months.”

He nodded. “It’s been a long couple of weeks. Since ...” His face fell. “Since Kat. Since the Directorate.” He looked around. “Looks like it could be a lot longer. What false charge did they drum up to bring you in on?”

I felt my excitement at seeing him fade. “Murder.” He seemed to freeze, stuck in place, trying to control his surprise. “Clary, Parks, Kappler, Bastian.” I forced a fake smile. “So ... they didn’t have to do much making up in that department.”

“Geez,” he almost whispered and looked around his small cell. “Okay, wow. Well, that’s, um ...” He rested a hand on my shoulder and for some reason I felt great reassurance from it. “I take it they broke the news to you that you wouldn’t be seeing a lawyer anytime soon?”

I smiled. “I don’t think we’re gonna need one.”

He almost did a double take at me then did a slow nod of understanding. “You’re here because you cut a deal.”

“I’m here because they offered me a ‘Get Out of Jail Free’ card.”

He let a low sigh then jammed his hands in the pockets of his navy pullover, which was tight on his muscular frame. “There’s no such thing as a ‘Get Out of Jail Free’ card.”

I gave him a wan smile. “What, you’ve never played Monopoly?”

“You know what I mean, Sienna,” he said, and I could tell he was cross, getting more irritable by the moment. “They want something in exchange.”

“Yeah,” I agreed, “but it’s something I was gonna do anyway, so I’m fine with the exchange rate on this one.”

He gave me a wary glance. “Really? You think the U.S. government is just going to let you skate on four murders because you run some errands for them?”

I let my head drift sideways as I looked up, pondering it. “When the errand involves beating Century to save the whole human race, I think it might justify my price.”

He frowned. “What’s Century?”

I felt myself pause, as if the gears in my head had seized up. How could he not know? “They’re the ones who are trying to wipe out metakind. Didn’t we talk about this last time we met?”

“I was drunk, right?” His face contorted into disbelief. “‘Metakind’? That’s a thing now? And Century? Really? That’s their name?” He forced a tight smile that showed me all his even, shiny front teeth. “Whatever. After that—assuming you pull it off, you think the government is just going to let you walk free?”

“What are my alternatives, Scott?” I said, letting a little bit of my exasperation show through. He could be such a difficult horse’s ass sometimes, and I wasn’t in the mood for having this discussion, especially since I was fully aware that now that they had their hooks in me, I might not ever pry them out again. “Spend the rest of my life in jail, waiting for Sovereign and his Gang of One Hundred to wipe us all out to the last meta?” I shrugged. “Wait for an opening to stage a jailbreak, then try and stop Century while simultaneously on the run?”

He sighed, a low, loud one. “Jailbreak then a flight to Bora Bora, I’d say.”

“That’s really helpful.”

He shrugged his arms expansively, and I caught a hint from his expression of just how in over our heads he thought we were. “I don’t know anything about this Century group—”

“They wiped out Omega,” I said. “Wiped them out to such a degree that I ended up in charge of what’s left.”

“What?” His face was scrunched, like he was trying to sort through what I’d just said. “You mean there’s nothing left of them, right?”

“No ...” I said.

Scott frowned. “You? In charge of them? Like ... were you elected or something?”

“By the survivors, yeah,” I said. “Not much group cohesion left. Janus and Kat are basically the only ones left alive from old Omega.” Scott’s lips puckered at the mention of Kat’s name. “Anyway, these guys, Century—run all you want, they will eventually find you, even in Bora Bora.” I bowed my head. “We’re being offered a chance to use our training to stop this threat. For me, it’s a chance to start over.” I felt a twinge of something—guilt, I was almost certain. “A clean slate.”

Scott let hang a silence between us for a minute as his face went through a cavalcade of emotions, all of which seemed to be a struggle for him. “Well, I’m happy for you.”

“Be happy for yourself, too,” I said. “Because you get the same deal.”

He let out a little scoff. “I haven’t done anything wrong. These charges are bullshit and I will fight them.”

“No, you won’t,” I said, shaking my head slowly. “Because even if you could stomach the thought of sitting on the sidelines while I’m fighting—” he started to say something in protest but stifled himself before I had to, “you know that every meta who dies between now and when you ‘get out’—if you get out—is one you might have been able to help save if you’d been working with me instead of twisting around like a wild bull trying to avoid the lasso.”

There was a long pause, and his frown expressed near disbelief. “A bull dodging a lasso? Really?”

I shrugged. “Zack took me to a rodeo once. It fits.”

He looked utterly disgusted, but I saw the concession on his face. “Fine.” He threw up his arms. “Fine, I’ll help. But not to save my own ass.” His look softened. “I’m doing this because you need someone who’s going to watch your back while you’re involved in this deal with the devil.”

I gave him a weak smile. “I don’t think the U.S. government is the devil.”

He gave me a wary look. “They threaten to charge you with murder—”

“Which I’m guilty of.”

He kept going as if I hadn’t said anything, “—then offer you a deal overlooking said murders if you work with them.” He shook his head. “Doesn’t sound like the forces of good and righteousness to me.”

I felt a tightness in my jaw as I walked to the door and pounded on it once, hard. “It sounds like pragmatism to me. Like they acknowledge that they’re in a hard place and need help. Real help.”

Scott followed me to the door, standing only a foot behind me as I waited for it to open, and his face split into a wide grin. “Then why the hell are they coming to you and me?”

I heard a lock sliding and I could have sworn a draft was sweeping in under the door because I felt a chill. While I waited for it to open, I looked at Scott and gave him a sad look, one that wiped the smile entirely off his face.

“Because we’re all that’s left.”

Foreman led us down the hall a little farther, Scott glaring at the senator with eyes like daggers. I didn’t know what Foreman’s power was, but I hoped it wasn’t the ability to sense when someone was giving you dirty looks while your back was turned.

The hall was long and dim, and when we stopped outside the next cell, Foreman paused, holding out the FBI ID he’d thrown at my feet earlier, along with another that had Scott’s picture on it. “You’ll be needing these.”

I took mine from his hand and gave it a once over before sliding it into the pocket of my jeans. Then I clipped the badge onto the bottom of my untucked blouse. I watched Scott look at his with utter distaste before pocketing the ID in his pullover.

“Got a couple more stops to make here,” Foreman said, and rapped his dark knuckles against the metal door. “None of our people have spoken to this one yet. Been stewing since they got here—”

“Dodging gender pronouns so you can be mysterious doesn’t really get you any points with me,” I said. “My last boss did the vague and mysterious act a lot, too.”

Foreman gave me a broad grin. “In my case, I’m doing it for my own entertainment. I love the emotion of surprise. I think most people do, actually. We love the reaction when two unexpected characters meet again after a long absence, love seeing the emotional spinout from it. We love cliffhangers where the music swells, and we’re left wondering how they’ll play out when we come to the scene again. People love surprise, to not know what’s going to come next. It gets them through their days.”

I clicked my teeth together in annoyance. “Not everybody loves surprise.”

He shrugged. “I do, and since I’m running the show ...” He threw the door open and gestured for me to enter.

I sighed and did so as he moved out of the way, revealing a woman sitting on a cot at the edge of the room.

“You,” Ariadne said with a hint of surprise, her red hair ratty and knotted as if it hadn’t been washed in a couple days. “I should have known you were behind this.” Her eyes were wild, her face in near disbelief. “It wasn’t enough that you had to kill her, now you get your revenge on me, too? Having me locked away—”

“Don’t get your panties in a twist,” I said, cutting her off. “I didn’t have anything to do with you being imprisoned.” I looked back at Foreman, who was standing at the door, still holding it open, unconcerned about Ariadne taking flight. “What’s this about?”

Foreman raised an eyebrow at me. “We’re effectively picking up the pieces of the Directorate. We need an administrator who can run things—with appropriate legislative oversight, of course.” He smiled disingenuously.

I looked back at Ariadne and avoided saying something untoward. “She’s certainly capable of that.”