The Lethal Agent (The Extraction Files Book 2) (36 page)

LRF-PQ-241

SEPTEMBER 16, 2232

A dull ache woke him, throbbing between his shoulders. Mable had slipped down against his side. Her head rose and fell with his breath.

He didn’t move for fear of waking her.

On his wristlet, Theo spotted the time: 0544.

He needed to go see Aida, to talk with her about the bugs and Calvin and everything they’d been keeping from her. He needed to comm Dr. Arrenstein to see what he wanted to do about all the deaths at the LRF.

There were a lot of things he needed to be doing. But Theo remained motionless, resigned to let Mable rest as long as she could.

His heart hurt for her. He had never been a father, and had certainly never suffered the death of his child, but if it was anything like watching a boy die in his arms, then it was among the most horrible experiences imaginable.

Theo had only known the boy on the road for a matter of minutes. To this day, no one had ever told him the boy’s name. He was just another child, a Craftsman boy playing in the street.

But to Theo, the boy’s death changed everything.

Strong as she was, Mable cared deeply. She offered her affections slowly, only to those she thought worthy—none would be more worthy to her than her own child.

A child that was now dead.

Theo could do the math. She’d been young when he was born, still a Youth. Her son was the reason she left her Scholar life and descended into the underground. The pieces of Mable’s scattered life were starting to fall into place.

Only now the pieces were broken.

He wondered how much of her was remained intact, how much of her light would continue to shine. Was even Mable strong enough to survive this?

Had he lost her already?

Theo thought of Calvin. The redness of his cheek had been nothing compared to Aida’s words. Maybe he could talk to her, get them to sit down and work it out. She would understand, once the anger had passed.

His wristlet vibrated with an incoming ecomm. As carefully as possible, Theo lifted it and saw:

SILAS ARRENSTEIN: NEED HELP. AIDA.

Theo was torn between Mable and Aida, both hurting. Mable was sound asleep, while Aida needed him. As much as he didn’t want to, he had to go.

Theo moved Mable’s arm first, then tilted her torso until he could slide out from under her. She stirred when he picked her up and placed her in bed, asking, “What time is it?”

Theo said, “Go back to sleep,” and watched as she settled into her rhythm of deep breathing.

Then he slipped out the door.

The main corridor was empty but for the occasional Scholar power-walking in the direction of Filmore’s office. Theo wondered how many had died in total.

It was a short walk to Aida’s apartment, even faster given his quick steps. It was only 0615 when he arrived, but she answered the door as soon as he knocked.

Aida’s hair was braided down her shoulder but was messy in a way he wouldn’t have believed had he not seen it. Rather than look pleased to see him, she asked, “Did he make you come here?”

“No one made me come. Are you all right?”

“Did you know?” Aida crossed her arms.

“Aida—”

“Did you know who he was?”

Theo sighed. “Yes, I knew.”

“When?”

“A few days before we arrived.”

“And you know Dr. Arrenstein?”

Theo nodded. He may have had his rough moments with the CPI director, but Theo, nonetheless, put great trust in him.

“Do you know why he wants to see me?”

“I could make a few guesses. Not about Calvin if that’s what you’re thinking.”

Aida’s eyes narrowed. “His name is
Vincent
. As you well know.” She uncrossed her arms long enough to slam the door in his face.

Theo stared at the door for ten seconds in disbelief. He knocked several times but still no Aida. Finally, he gave up and sat on the floor, his back to the wall, and commed Dr. Arrenstein.

From his wristlet, Dr. Arrenstein’s face hovered in miniature.

“There you are,” he said, as if he’d been looking for Theo for hours. “We’ve been trying to contact your sister but haven’t had any luck getting through to her. Can you see if you can get her to meet us?”

“I’m here at her apartment. She’s pretty pissed. I don’t think she’s going to come around anytime soon. You’re here at the LRF?”

“We’re waiting in Filmore’s office. He’s not thrilled about it.” Dr. Arrenstein eyed someone off-screen.

“I’ll see what I can do, but you might be in for a long wait. I’ll let you know.”

Theo was moving to end the comm when he heard, “How’s Maggie?”

“Not good. She broke her hand.”

Dr. Arrenstein closed his eyes as he registered the kind of pain she must be feeling. “See if you can get her patched up. She’ll need to be here as well.”

“She’s sleeping.” Theo had zero intention of waking her. Not today.

“I have a surprise for her. Just get them here.” Then he was gone.

No big deal, Dr. Arrenstein. I’ll just pull two strong women from the pits of grief and get them to meet with you for nothing more than the promise of a surprise.

Fuck that guy.

Theo made one last attempt at Aida’s door and, to his shock, she opened it.

“What do you want?”

“I want you to stop being selfish for ten minutes and go to that meeting. It’s important. I’ll never ask you for anything again.”

Without waiting for her answer, Theo left. He didn’t want Mable to wake on her own, to wonder where he’d gone. He didn’t want her to have nightmares without anyone there to wake her.

He didn’t want her to be alone.

She was still asleep when he returned to the apartment, just as he’d left her. She slept peacefully—no screaming, no thrashing about. For the moment, it was possible to pretend she would be all right.

Theo sat beside her on the bed and rubbed her shoulder, trying to wake her as gently as possible.

“What time is it?” Her eyes were shut. Her voice was little more than breath.

“Still early. Dr. Arrenstein is here. Says he has a surprise for you.”

Mable’s swollen eyes shot open. “What?”

“He wouldn’t tell me. He wants to have a meeting with Aida, but she won’t see him. Or me.”

When she tried to sit up, Mable used her broken hand. She winced and collapsed back down before trying it with the other.

“Going to let me wrap that up for you?” he asked.

“I can do it.” Cradling her arm against her chest, she walked to the closet and pulled out a tattered old bag. From it, she produced a strip of black fabric, the kind he’d seen her wear on her way back from fighting with Dasia.

When she sat beside him on the bed and handed him the roll of fabric, Theo accepted it like a Nobel Prize. “I’m sorry I blew up yesterday,” she offered, as if that explained anything.

Theo pulled her hand from her chest and set it on his lap. “You don’t have to be sorry. You have every right to be upset.”

“No, I don’t. I gave him up.” She winced as Theo wrapped the first layer of fabric around the palm of her hand.

“Did you have another choice?” he asked.

“No.”

“Would you have kept him if you could?”

Mable only nodded. A single tear slipped down her cheek.

“Then you have every right to love him. And you don’t have to be sorry to me or anyone else.” Theo concentrated on her hand, too afraid to look up, too afraid he’d said something to renew her anguish. He wrapped the black strip around and around her hand until it was good and strong, firm enough to hold her bones in place until they could find a long-term solution.

“Thank you,” she whispered when he was done.

“Ready?”

In answer, Mable pushed off the bed and walked to the bathroom where she used the mirror to evaluate the mess of her hair. Without the full use of her right hand, Mable struggled to get her blonde hair tamed. Eventually, she gave up and pulled it back into a long pony tail.

To a stranger, she would have looked fine. She carried herself well, she was put together.

To Theo, she was a mess. He could see the lingering swelling around her eyes, the slightly reddened cheeks. He could see her sadness in her walk.

Mable emerged into the corridor, a vision of hidden grief.

Theo knew then, she’d been doing it for years.

As they walked side by side, neither spoke. There was nothing to say.

Mable reached down her hand and slid it into his, only to pull away a moment later. Then, she moved to his other side and slid her left hand into his right.

“Bad hand,” she explained.

Theo squeezed the good one and smiled. In that instant, he knew it had happened. Mable’s walls had come crashing down around them, and, at long last, she had decided to let him in.

LRF-PQ-241

SEPTEMBER 16, 2232

Love is blind. Love is unfair. Love is cruel. Love is crooked.

It gives and it takes without care. It lets you believe you’re happy then burns your dreams to the ground.

Somehow, she let herself fall back down the hole. She’d pumped the brakes and dragged her feet, but Dasia and Theo had come into her life—they’d given her their love. As hard as she tried, she couldn’t keep from loving them back.

But it had a price. First, Hadley and Rowen. Then, the colony was terminated. A missile flew across an entire cosmic region to strike her brother and her son from existence. Neither knew her, but it didn’t soften the weight of her grief.

She squeezed Theo’s hand.

It was wrong, she knew. Nothing good could come from getting close to others.

Love is crooked.

Theo leaned in and kissed the top of her head as if no one else was there. He loved her. The way he stood, the way he walked, it was written all over him. It had been for a long time.

Mable wondered how long it would be before he, too, was taken from her.

Oblivious to her fears, Theo walked her to Filmore’s office. He scanned his palm a moment before the doors opened. Filmore sat at his desk looking somewhere between tired and aggravated. He had killed both her brother and her son less than a day before.

Mable fought back the urge to end him. In her mind’s eye, her fists pummeled his face until he couldn’t breathe through his own blood. If she had her way, she would have the best seat in the house as Michael Filmore choked to death.

She shook away the vision. Arrenstein sat in one of his office chairs. When they entered, he turned but didn’t say anything, his eyes full of a sadness that mirrored her own.

In the other chair, Mable saw a familiar face, but an impossible one. Dasia’s new blonde hair hung loose over her shoulders. As soon as Dasia saw her, she bolted from her chair and slammed into Mable with the force of a train.

Mable returned the lung-squashing embrace.

“Missed you,” Dasia whispered in her ear.

“Missed you, too,” Mable replied, sure that the words didn’t quite convey the whole truth of it.

“Is there anyone who isn’t one of your agents?” Filmore asked from his desk.

They both ignored him. “What are you doing here?” Mable asked, not one bit disappointed to see her.

“He made me come. We figured it out.” Dasia shrugged like it was no big deal.

Mable kissed her cheek. “I knew you would.”

“Are you okay?” Dasia whispered.

Mable nodded, but Dasia didn’t look the least bit convinced. “Did you hear about the attacks?”

“What attacks?”

“The domes are down in Philly, San Diego, Madrid. Chicago, too. A lot more.”

“San Diego? Is Georgie okay?” Based on the look on Dasia’s face, he wasn’t.

“I’ll tell you later.”

The office door spun open again. This time, Aida stepped into the room. Her arms were crossed, and her lips were tight.

“Thank you for coming, Dr. Perkins. If you could have a seat, please.” Arrenstein motioned to the chair Dasia had vacated.

Aida didn’t move. Theo arrived behind her and led her to the chair. “What’s this about?” she asked as she sat.

Arrenstein leaned his hip on the edge of Filmore’s desk. “We need you to help us figure out a way to abort the colony to Perkins-196.”

“And why would I do that?”

In a lethal move he probably learned from Ramona, Arrenstein told her the truth. “Because if you don’t, thousands more are going to die.”