The Sway (11 page)

T
he training room
was kind of eerie. The floors were concrete, the walls painted black, and the lighting low. A wall of weapons stood to my left, its contents ranging from throwing stars to chained whips. I raised an eyebrow at the wall and Cole smirked at me. He pulled me along to the far side of the room. A board hung on the wall with a workout listed. I noticed the weights lined along the other wall, bars hung on the surface at varying heights. I hadn't done a pull-up in a year. This was going to kick my ass.

And it did.

After three rounds of the workout of the day, I wanted to curl up in a ball. I still had two more rounds to go though and I wasn't about to stop, brain injury or not. I lay on the floor in between sets, making a sweat angel.

Cole squatted on his haunches. “That's probably good for tonight. We still need to work on your control. Pick your poison.”

He motioned toward the weapon wall. I threw my arm across my eyes and moaned. Ouch. I was already sore; tomorrow was going to suck.

Cole reached his hand in front of my face and pulled me up to a standing position. I started walking toward the wall with shiny metal pointy objects hanging from hooks. Halfway there, I heard something metal being unsheathed behind me. My mind clicked. It was foggy though, like a haze was covering my usual puzzle-solving skills.

My ears pricked as I heard the sound of a wrist snapping back. The object was spinning toward me, end over end. I dove for Cole and tackled him to the ground.

The four-inch knife stuck out of a paper human shadow target taped to the wall. I'd been standing directly in front of that same target five seconds before. I jumped my feet underneath me, forgetting that I was sore, and turned to freak out.

Quade was standing on the other side of the room with Hank.

Hank started clapping. “See, I told you,” he said as he took strides toward me.

“What the hell is wrong with you? You almost killed Cole and me!”

Hank narrowed his eyes. “Oh, no smart remarks about how you're fine this time?”

I made a fist and released it. “You're an asshat.”

Hank smiled and Quade laughed.

“He kinda is, right?” Quade shouted.

I took a deep breath and stabilized my racing heart. Asshat. Who did that? Threw a knife just to check if my brain was functioning? Cole stood beside me, and tension rolled off of him in waves.

“So help me, if you ever put her in danger again, it doesn't matter that you are my father, I will debilitate you. You will be a vegetable when I am finished,” he said.

I raised my eyebrows and thought through what I knew about Cole's ability. I had never really thought of how it would be used in a defensive way. The ability to control emotions was terrifying when I actually thought about it.

Cole put his arms around me and led me from the training room. We wound our way to his living quarters and he huffed the entire way. If he could have slammed the door that slid open to his room, I know he would have.

I slipped in behind him and went to the window, looking out over the majestic valley surrounded by mountains. It reminded me so much of home that my heart ached a little bit to think of the Wasatch front. I grew up feeling safe, tucked into the bench of the mountains. Those same feelings overwhelmed my senses as I stood staring out at the Catskills.

“Do you think people have started evacuating?” I whispered more to myself than anything.

I turned when I heard him rummaging through a drawer.

He reached for the remote and flipped on the TV. The channel was blank. He flipped through until he found one with a display. It just kept flashing the same message across the screen. City after city was listed, followed by an evacuation order, signed by Letum.

“I don't know if the people in New York are going to hightail it out of the city or hunker down to stake their claim.”

Cole smirked at my remark. “I bet a lot of the die-hards will stay. It's their city. It's New York. Living there gives you a sense of entitlement. No one is going to make you leave. If they are going to try, they better be ready for a fight.”

I walked backward until the back of my knees bumped into the bed and I flopped myself down. “They don't know, though. I mean, they do, but if they don't leave, they'll die. Letum isn't talking of a takeover. They are talking of an annihilation. Manhattan will be decimated, completely wiped off the map.”

I rubbed my eyes and then tilted my head to the side so I could see Cole. “I don't know how we are going to stop this. I don't know if a bunch of kids who can light things on fire and stretch to the ceiling are going to be able to do anything against a militant group.”

Cole belly-flopped onto the bed, folding his arms underneath his chin. “We have to try. We can't sit back. If we can do something as a group, then we have to.”

Cole spoke with passion; he was going to do this.

The intercom in his room buzzed. “Cole. You and Julia are needed in the black diamond conference area.”

“When?” he asked.

“Now.”

I was so tired, I just wanted to sleep from now until noon tomorrow. I grumbled under my breath as I rolled onto my belly. I was a beached whale. I was never moving again. Cole was smiling at me.

“What?”

He shook his head and leaned forward to meet my lips. “You're cute when you get all huffy.”

“I'm not huffy.” I pouted. “I'm just tired. Can't a girl go to sleep? I almost died three times this week.”

He leaned in and pecked my lips three times in quick succession. “You are kinda huffy. Come on, grumpy pants. The sooner we go, the sooner you can go to bed.”

I rolled off the bed imagining that I looked like a ninja. Cole laughed at my flailing and stood.

He held his hand out to me. “You know I won't let anything happen to you, right?”

I took his hand and laced my fingers with his. “I don't need protecting, but I'll take it nonetheless.”

He smiled and pulled me out the door.

W
hen we walked
into the room, a group of people were already sitting around a rectangular conference table made of concrete. To my surprise, the director from the CIA sat next to Hank. He narrowed his eyes at me when I walked in with Cole. I recognized the secretary of the Department of Defense, not in his typical military drab and instead wearing jeans and a Baltimore Ravens sweatshirt.

Cole led me to the two open seats left around the table, putting us between Hank and Quade. We were the only teens in the room. I swallowed the boulder that had decided to take up residence in my throat. This was slightly uncomfortable. I mean, I was used to people not liking me in places—teenage girl agent in the CIA—but this was a bit extreme.

“The president will be live in two minutes.” Hank spoke out to the group. Oh, that explained it. He cleared his throat. “I know that some of you were pulled from your homes and put on a plane to an unknown destination. I'm sorry for the abrupt way that we brought you here. I'm also going to apologize in advance for not being more honest with you all in the past. The information you are about to hear is extremely sensitive. Try and hold your questions until the end.”

The secretary of the DOD looked like he was about to blow a gasket, and he seemed to be grinding his teeth together to keep from opening his mouth. He wasn't aware of who Hank was, which was no surprise. What surprised me was the cool facade of the CIA director. He had to be aware of what was going on. Which made absolutely no sense to me, considering their taking my parents on Wednesday.

The large screen on the wall near the head of the table clicked to an image of the Oval Office. Despite all my time in the government, I had never stepped foot in the Oval Office, even on tours. I had seen the president speak from a distance but never like this. I was kind of freaking out in my head and had to keep reminding myself to stay cool, that I was here for a reason and that reason was not to go all fangirl on the president.

“Mr. President,” Hank said solemnly and stood.

Slowly, every person around the table stood and held a salute to the screen at the far end. It was a two-way camera.

“At ease, people. What can you tell me, Hank?”

Hank sat down and put his palms flat on the table.

“Letum has an underground bunker in the middle of Africa, in Segou,” he said, his chest rising and falling slowly. “A bunker isn't appropriate. They have a facility that rivals the Pentagon. This place has the ability to send multiple WMD's to hundreds of cities, sir.”

The president rubbed his eyes. “Hank, I have let you slide around with these people and trusted you for years. We have been friends for a lifetime. Tell me, how can we move forward to stop this? Tell me the solution.”

Hank stiffened his shoulders and resolve formed in his eyes, with a little bit of mirth mixed in.

“Mr. President, why is Mr. Secretary here formulating a plan to shoot me under the table? Does he not know about me? Who I really am?”

The secretary's face paled. The president chuckled.

“Russ, relax. Hank is on our side. He has worked nearly his entire life to stop things like this. He has been working for the government since he was a teenager. We were roommates at boarding school,” the president said.

The secretary's eyes got wide. His face reddened, and he nodded in acknowledgment.

My head had put out a nice little table and was lining up the facts so far in the conversation. Hank was not only working with the government but for them. He had a personal friendship with the Commander in Chief. He'd roomed with the president at school, leading me to believe that the president himself was transcendent.

Hank glanced over at me and nodded. Walls, I needed to put up my walls. A ghost of a smile passed over Hank's lips.

I pushed my tongue against the roof of my mouth in concentration. It was like sandpaper, making me wish I had a glass of water. I glanced around the table. Nearly everyone had a water bottle besides Cole and me. My concentration refocused at the sound of my name.

“This is Julia Caldwell. She was actually one of your recruits, before the new headmaster sold out to Letum.”

The president laughed at Hank's comment, like this wasn't a time of crisis. Like they were just old friends shooting the bull. I felt slightly self-conscious at being individually introduced to the president. I nodded toward the screen.

“I'm sorry that taking a bid to run the free world changed our plans for Eisenhower. Really, though, that is old news. Are we going to go there now? I'm sure the room has more pressing questions. Why don't we start with you, Russ? You look completely lost.”

The secretary's face flamed and his Adam's apple bobbed up and down.

“How the hell does this guy, number one on our watch list, know what I'm thinking?” Russ said. He leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table, made a fist with one hand, and started cracking his knuckles.

Hank rolled his head from side to side, as if to work out a kink in his neck.

“Your country needs you. You took an oath to the president. We are helping you to uphold that. The reason I can hear your thoughts is because I am Transcendent.” Hank waved his hand in front of his face. “I have an ability, specifically being a telepath. I can hear your thoughts. Well, everyone's thoughts.” He smiled. “You are thinking of the number 1,843. Your first dog was Benji. You met your wife in eighth grade.”

The secretary stared across the table in shock.

Hank continued. “You also have an ability, Russ. Albeit a dormant one, but we can boost it. The protective instincts that have made you successful in your years of service aren't just by chance. We can talk more later.” He stood. “We are going to need each of you to prepare in our way over the next seventy-two hours. Mr. President, if you would.”

The president held his hands in front of his face, like he was holding an imaginary football. A ball of shining light started to spark in the middle of his palms and hovered there. He made eye contact with the camera and then tossed the ball of energy at a plant in the Oval Office. The plant turned to a burnt crisp, faster than you could say the word poof. Then he smiled. “I'm Transcendent, too.”

Russ looked close to passing out.

Hank looked like a kid that got an extra slice of chocolate cake. “Right, then. This Saturday, the heads of Letum are set to meet in Prague at a gala. It is a black tie event, a masquerade. So as you may have guessed, each of you will have a part to play. They will have the access codes on their persons. Certain members hold the cards. We need all five codes to access the facility in Africa.”

There was a pop behind Hank, and I could swear the Secretary of Defense jumped a good two feet out of his chair. Harrison leaned in and said something to Hank and he nodded. Harrison laid out eight envelopes on the utilitarian table, each with a name.