Psion Alpha (48 page)

It’s the only way,
Sammy
.
She closed her eyes and counted to three. Instead of squeezing the trigger, she
paused. Her thoughts went to the conversation she’d had with Sammy when she begged
him to include her on the mission. He’d trusted her, even sharing with her the
knowledge that he suffered from Anomaly Thirteen. Then he told her a scripture:

Where thou diest, will
I die, and there will I be buried. The Lord do so to me, and more also, if
ought but death part thee and me.

Jeffie took a deep
breath and lowered the can from Sammy’s face.

“DO IT!” Diego shouted
at her. “Do it now, you stupid girl, or it’s over!”

“No.” The defiant tone
in Jeffie’s voice surprised her. “I’d rather die than betray Sammy’s trust.”

“You are a stupid,
silly girl!” Diego spat.

Sammy stirred next to
Jeffie. The glazed look in his eyes vanished, and he smiled weakly at her.
“Hiya stranger.”

“Hiya back,” Jeffie
said, relieved to see him awake. Tears formed in her eyes as she thought about
how close she’d come to spraying him with that gas canister. “Are we gonna
die?”

“I’ll do everything I
can to avoid that,” Sammy said.

Diego watched them
closely.

Sammy covered his
mouth, dropped his voice to a whisper, and leaned close to Jeffie so it looked
like he was speaking to her. “Nikotai, you there?”

“Still here.” Nikotai
sounded tired and small. “What’s up?”

“How much time left for
reset?”

“Just over ten
minutes.”

“Stand by. I have the
missing digits. I’ll give them to you shortly. Copy?”

“Copy.”

Sammy put the safety
back on his gun and set it down beside his leg. Then he took his pulse. “Okay.
What happens next is all up to you.” He looked at Diego. “I know the passcode.”

Diego laughed. “You
don’t,” he shot back. “It’s a bluff.”

“It’s not. I am going
to retrieve every last bit of information from your systems, exactly as I said
I would. The question is what happens after that. That part is all up to you …
Trapper.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-
FIVE
- Knives

Friday, January 3, 2087

“What’s taking you so forever, Anna?” Brickert
mumbled from his slumped position on the closet floor. His hands rested on his
chest, his legs stretched out in front of him, eyes closed. “You said three days.
Four tops.”

“That only be a guess, Bobby,”
she reminded Brickert, calling him by his fake name and using her own version
of street slang like Brickert. “You know that, but you not thinking so clear. You
done good work so far. Everything’s nearly set with the info you and Nancy have
gotten us. Okay? We wanna bust in and break you out, but things at HQ are
tense. We’re trying to muster up some muscle to hit that place so hard they never
wake up. Diggin’?”

Brickert nodded even
though Anna couldn’t see him.

“Bobby? Answer me.”

“I’m here. These people.…
” He took a deep breath and had to consciously think about what a normal kid
would say. “They crazy like … bananas. Beatin’ on us every day. Askin’
questions ‘bout everything.”

“Hang tight. I need you
to hold your brains together. Your brother, Joey, is right here. He wants me to
tell you to stay strong.”

“Okay. Tell Joey I love
him.”

“I will. They feeding
you any better?”

“Juice … that’s all
we’ve had for a week. Juice. I think they do something to it. It tastes like they
pissin’ in it.”

“I’m sorry. Just keep
it together a few more days. You can do that.”

Brickert opened his
eyes and stared at the ceiling. His body was weak, he struggled to focus his
mind.

Despite what he and
Anna had just told each other, he had known all along that he and Natalia would
be held captive for a week, give or take a day or two. For the last seven days,
he and Natalia had passed coded information to Anna about the inner workings of
the facility to help Anna plan her attack with Justice and Avni, the team’s
Tensais. Guard positions, shift rotations, security checks, anything they
picked up from their time inside and outside of the closet where the enemy held
them.

Thankfully, Anna had
used the code word
diggin’
, which meant that the attack would happen
sometime today. As far as he could tell, it was currently early morning,
pre-dawn. If he had to guess, the attack would happen sometime later that
night.

One more day. I can do
this. But can she?
He let his head roll to the side so he could see Natalia, who lay on the floor,
sprawled and sleeping. Both sides of her face bore bruises. Dried blood stained
her nose and mouth. Brickert felt sick with pity each time he looked at her.

“They beat her pretty
bad, Anna,” he said. “She ain’t said nothing for a while. She just sleep.”

“You check her for a
head injury?”

“Yeah. I did what you
said.” Brickert sniffed a little bit as a powerful wave of emotion hit him.
“It’s just—it’s hard to tell nothin’ in the dark. And it’s a little scary, I
tell you.”

“I know, Bobby. Trust
me, I do. Now tell me you can keep your brains together a few more days. I need
to hear you say those words.”

Brickert wiped his eyes
and drew in a raggedy breath that shot pain up the front of his face. Several
of his front teeth were chipped or broken from where the Thirteen with no nose
had beaten him. Every time he inhaled, an electric shock jolted up his gums,
and he cringed. “I—I can keep it together. I’ll hold out a few more days.”

“Good. Take care. I
promise it’ll be over in a few days.”

Anna’s line went dead. Brickert
took the earpiece from his ear, switched it off, and stowed it in his pocket.
His fingers trembled from the effort.
I should have had more sympathy for
you, Sammy
, he thought.
Now that I know an inkling about what you went
through with Stripe … my soul shivers.

The door to the closet
opened. Light streamed in and stung Brickert’s eyes after becoming so
accustomed to the darkness. He squinted to see two large cups placed on the
floor.
Feeding time
. Strength returned to his limbs as he crawled across
the floor and lifted a cup to his lips, cherishing every mouthful of liquid
that he swallowed. Again he tasted the bitterness mixed in with the flavor of
cranberries and apples. He was sure urine was in the drink, but he didn’t care.
Gulp after gulp flowed down his throat until he drained the cup. He licked his
lips.

It’s not enough. It’s
never enough.
He gazed at the second cup, then reached out and placed his fingers on the tall
cylinder.
I need it more than you do, Natalia. You’ll be fine. I promise
you’ll be fine.

The sugar in the juice
had already taken effect, steadying his hands as he brought the second cup to
his mouth to drink. His eyes froze on Natalia. Her green and blue hair formed a
punk-style halo around her head. Her slender, muscular build made the rise and
fall of her chest seem more exaggerated. But it was on her face his eyes
lingered the longest. Her cheekbones were more pronounced now than a week ago.
Her eyes had a slightly sunken appearance that the casual observer might not
note, but for someone who had dated her, even kissed her daily, the difference
was there. He wondered what his own face looked like.

He set the cup back
down and slid over to her. He put his hands under her and pulled her to him. It
required an enormous amount of effort to get her into a cradling position, but
when he did, her eyes opened. He could tell by the faint light reflecting off
them. He put the rim of the cup to her lips. When her lips parted, he emptied
the vessel into her mouth. She drank and drank until he stopped pouring. Brickert
sighed and wished he’d given her his drink, too.

Why had it taken being
locked up and starved in a dark closet for him to realize how frivolous their
fight was? She adored him. She had for two years. And he liked her back. He’d
liked her for months.

Her chest heaved as she
caught her breath taking such a long drink. Brickert stroked her face tenderly
and wondered if he’d already done irreparable damage to their relationship by
refusing to forgive her.
Only one way to find out.
He let the empty cup
clatter to the floor at the same moment his lips pressed into hers.

They had kissed
hundreds of times in the last several months, but this was different. Before,
Brickert had felt a certain kind of thrill, a lustful pleasure that came from
the sensations of lips and tongues touching. Now the emotion coursing through
him was much different. The kiss was simpler, gentler, and more wonderful than
anything he’d experienced. When he pulled away, Natalia was crying.

“I’m sorry,” she
whispered through slurred words. “I promise I’ll never—”

“Don’t promise me
anything,” he said just as quietly.

Natalia’s tears fell
faster. “I apologized to you so many times. How many more times do I have to
say it until you believe me?”

“I didn’t mean it like
that.” He caressed her cheek as he’d seen his father do to his mother. “I
forgive you.”

“You do?”

“Yeah. I do stupid
stuff, too. I—I guess I shouldn’t have expected you to—”

The door opened again
and three Aegis entered. Brickert nearly dropped Natalia. A pair of hands
reached down and stole her from his grasp.

“Please—” he pleaded,
“please … she hurtin’, man! We’re hungry. Let us go!”

Another Aegis grabbed Brickert’s
shoulders and jerked him to a standing position. The blood rushed from
Brickert’s head, and he swooned before the Aegis took a handful of his shirt
and held him upright.

“Walk!” she barked in
Brickert’s ear.

Focused on putting one
foot in front of the other, Brickert stumbled to the same place the Aegis
always took them: the shooting range. And the same Thirteen awaited them. For
the first time, he didn’t have a gun with him; he had knives. At a glance,
Brickert guessed he had at least two dozen identical thin blades lined up
across a table. Natalia saw them, too, and whined in a low, weak tone. The
Thirteen’s permanent grin grew exponentially, showing off the two scars running
down the opposite sides of his face.

“It is so good to see you
two!” he exclaimed as though it truly gave him uncontainable joy. “How long has
it been? A day?” The more enthusiastic his voice became, the more noticeable
his speech impediment from his missing lips.

“What—whatchoo want?”
Brickert asked. “Why won’tchoo let us go?”

The Thirteen put up his
hands in a gesture of understanding. “I know. I know. The two of you are tired.
You’re hungry. You’re sick of smelling your own stench. I get that. So I think
it’s only fair that I be honest with you. If you can’t give me any more
information on this Anna woman, I’m going to kill you.”

Natalia’s moaning
instantly transformed into weeping. Brickert’s breath caught in his chest,
unable to think of what to do. Anna had strictly ordered them to use no
blasting. She had said no matter how dire things became, they must not blast.
Does
that apply to this situation, too? Did she mean we should sacrifice ourselves?
He imagined she did, or she would have told them otherwise.

“You’ll probably take
it personally, though you shouldn’t.” The Thirteen picked up one of his knives
and ran his finger along the length of the blade, ignoring the thin line of
blood that spilled from his skin. “I’m only trying to motivate you to help me
keep my building secure.”

He jerked his head at
the half-dozen Aegis, who responded by dragging the Betas to two target poles
near the front of the range, much closer to the firing line than last time.
Only five or six meters separated Brickert and Natalia from the Thirteen.
Attached to each pole were wide, thick boards with hundreds of dents, cuts, and
holes in them. Natalia cried harder as the Aegis secured her and Brickert
against the boards, arms and legs spread as if they were making snow angels.

The Thirteen chose a
knife and stared down its blade. “I decided to try my hand at blade tossing.
It’s messier. You remember the rules: don’t move a muscle, and when you’re
ready to give me the information I want.… ”

Brickert noticed the
Thirteen looking his way, and knew the first knife would fly at him. He
squeezed his eyes tightly shut, tensed his muscles, and clenched his teeth,
waiting for the Thirteen to throw. The next few seconds passed at a crawl. A
thousand thoughts and fears raced through his mind. He tried to breathe and
maintain his composure, but when he heard the knife faintly whistling as it
sliced through the air, he nearly lost it.

DUNT!
It stuck into the
board near Brickert’s head. He opened his eyes and saw that no more than five
centimeters separated him from the knife. Whether the Thirteen had missed on
purpose to scare Brickert or had miscalculated by a slim margin, Brickert did
not know.

“Anyone wish to speak?”
the Thirteen asked them.

Brickert looked at
Natalia. Her wide eyes fixed back on him. Tears streaked her face.
Hold
strong
, he told her.
He’ll throw at you next.

His unspoken thoughts
proved prophetic. The Thirteen’s knife sailed at Natalia. Brickert closed his
eyes again, waiting for the same sound as before. Instead he heard the sound of
blade meeting flesh, immediately followed by a piercing shriek. A knife
protruded from Natalia’s thigh, just above her knee. Her scream went on for a
long time. Brickert watched, helpless, as she strained against her bonds to
free herself. She wanted to pull out the blade.

The Thirteen snickered
into his hands. “Wow, I am terrible at this game! Now, don’t get carried away
in your struggles, young lady. You wouldn’t want to bleed to death. If you
would like to leave and seek medical attention, tell me what I need to know.”

“What can we tell you?”
Brickert asked. “We gave you her name! We told you how we contact her!”

“Yes, that’s all nice
and good.” The Thirteen threw another knife, this one at Brickert. It bit his
left ear, leaving him stinging and bleeding. Before Brickert could say
anything, the Thirteen had his fourth knife in hand. “But I want the address of
her so-called ‘HQ’ and the hit she’s planning on this facility.”