Disruption (8 page)

Not that it didn’t work in nicely.

And Quentin totally fell for it. ‘I won’t bring you any trouble. Maggie … she really did save me in the testing and,’ he cleared his throat, ‘clearly you did too. I’m not about to cause either of you any trouble.’

I glanced between them and remained silent.

Finally, Gus said, ‘And what about when she helps you? Or can’t? What then? You’ll hand us over faster than your family tosses around six-digit money zips.’

Quentin shook his head. ‘I give you my word. No matter what. I’ll never be the cause of trouble in your life.’

Gus leaned back in his chair, appearing satisfied. ‘Good,’ he said. ‘Cause Maggie’s all the nightmare I can take.’

I smiled. ‘Gus, I never knew you dreamed of me.’

He gave me a one-fingered salute.

My smile widened. I could see Quentin studying my interaction with Gus.

I threw my feet up onto the table, earning another scowl from Gus. ‘Now that intros are done, how are we looking for tonight?’ I asked, popping another marshmallow.

‘What’s tonight?’ Quentin jumped in.

Gus chuckled. ‘You poor son of a bitch. She didn’t even tell you, did she?’

Quentin turned his steely blue eyes towards me and his brow did that furrowy thing it does, which in turn made my stomach do that unwelcome thing it does in response.

‘I want access to one of your family labs. Not a big one, but one that might have what we need to help you and might also have intel I need.’

‘Which one?’ he asked, still with the furrowy.

I bit my lower lip and Quentin’s eyes dropped to it suddenly. He covered the action smoothly by finally taking a seat.

‘Can you get access to an M-Corp headquarters computer?’ I asked.

‘Yes,’ he said, cautiously. ‘We have a mainframe in my father’s office at home which I’ve accessed before when helping him out. Why?’

‘I need the entry code to access a lab that will be listed under the title Junction 17. Can you manage that and meet us back here at the end of my shift?’

Quentin looked baffled. ‘There is no lab called Junction 17. You must have the wrong information.’

Gus tapped a pen on the table and spoke softly. ‘He doesn’t know anything, Maggie.’

That, or he was a very good liar.

‘Have you been into the underground network?’ I asked, watching for his reaction.

‘What underground network?’ he asked simply.

Gus snorted.

I stood up. ‘You’ll see tonight. I’ve got to start my shift. Just get the entry code from the computer. It will look like a normal file with a code attached to it. It will be long, so make sure you take down the exact sequence, including spaces. Ditch the driver and meet me back here at nine and …’ I gave him a look up and down, settling on his shoes. ‘… wear appropriate shoes.’

‘What are appropriate shoes?’ he asked, standing.

‘Shoes you can run for your life in,’ Gus answered helpfully. Then added, unnecessarily, ‘Welcome to the Maggie-verse.’

G
us had already disappeared by the time Stella and I left the store. I’d taken the time to drop off a coffee to the night security guard as per usual and had received one of his signature bows in return. I’d made a point of keeping on Darren’s good side. Never knew when it might come in handy.

‘Don’t suppose you want to come out with me and some of the gals for a bit of fun?’ Stella said, pulling her jumper off to reveal a sequinned halter-neck.

I shook my head, smiling. Every time we worked the late shift she asked me. Every time I declined.

She rolled her eyes. ‘What is it tonight. Muay Thai? Gym? Study?’

Usually it was all of the above, though I mostly did my study in the morning before school. ‘Gym,’ I replied, even as my eyes travelled towards the corner of the street where Quentin was leaning against the building, hands in pockets, looking straight at me.

Stella followed my eyes. ‘Uh-huh, well,
enjoy
that work-out, honey,’ she said with a laugh.

I shook my head at her and laughed it off, confident she couldn’t make out his well-known face from under the cap he’d been smart enough to wear. ‘Trust me when I say that is not the kind of work-out I’m looking for. And definitely not with him.’

She looked me over, settling on my eyes. ‘You may not know it, but there’s hunger in those eyes of yours. Trust me, it’s a look I know well.’

Zipping up my coat, I shrugged. Stella could think whatever she wanted. In fact, it probably helped if she thought things like that.

‘See you tomorrow, Stella.’

She gave me a wave and we headed in opposite directions.

Quentin had lost the dress shoes. In fact, he’d lost a lot of his previous outfit and replaced it with something … Put it this way, I hadn’t realised the guy worked out. But in those faded jeans and a long-sleeved fitted charcoal T-shirt, it was all too clear that he worked out almost as much as me. I glanced down to stop from staring.

‘Acceptable?’ he queried, his voice soft. Low.

It was a trick question. Had to be. I swallowed.

Then he waggled his feet and I realised he was talking about his footwear selection. I checked myself and glanced up from his well-worn blue Converse.

‘Fine,’ I answered. ‘We should go,’ I added, turning abruptly to head down the street. Quentin followed, his stride easy, some of the usual tension that radiated from him oddly absent.

‘You seem different,’ I blurted after a few minutes.

He shrugged. ‘People don’t notice me when I’m in these clothes. I always feel more like myself when I don’t have to be …’

‘A Mercer?’

‘An … ideal,’ he said, and I glimpsed that sadness I’d seen before.

‘If it’s any consolation, I don’t see you as an ideal at all,’ I said, hoping to lighten the mood.

He smiled, though his brow was back to furrow mode. ‘I suppose it is, in that at least you don’t just see me as the stereotype.’ He glanced at me, then back to the road, before adding, ‘Though I can’t help but wonder what kind of person I would be if I were ideal to someone like you.’

What was I supposed to do with that? Did that mean he wanted to be ideal to me? For me? Or that he didn’t want to be that type of person? I couldn’t work it out. My fists clenched with frustration that I was even thinking about it.

I took the next left and headed into one of the local malls.

‘Shopping?’ Quentin asked as we entered.

I glanced at him wryly and made for the elevator. I pulled out my phone, pressing my auto dial.

‘Old school,’ Quentin commented, noting my handheld phone. No doubt, he only ever used the earpiece that connected to his M-Band.

‘Dead yet?’ Gus answered.

I smirked. ‘Not yet, but the night’s still young.’

‘Here’s hoping.’

‘We’re at the elevator. You set up?’

‘Of course.’

I pressed the elevator button, ignoring Quentin’s curious gaze.

The elevator on the far left dinged. ‘Elevator four,’ I said.

‘No. It already has passengers,’ Gus replied quickly.

Stepping back, I pulled Quentin with me. He raised his eyebrows. I raised mine back. He conceded and shifted away from the opening doors. We waited for the lift to open and close, and then pressed the button again.

When the next elevator arrived, I said into the phone, ‘Elevator two.’

‘Good to go.’

When the elevator opened, I entered and Quentin followed.

The phone cut out inside and when the doors opened at sub-level three, I redialled. ‘Cameras?’ I said when Gus answered.

‘Down. You have two minutes to cross the garage and get into the next elevators.’

I glanced at Quentin. ‘Keep up,’ I said, then started to jog across the lot, moving through a small tunnel that connected the mall’s parking garage with the neighbouring office buildings. When we arrived at the next set of elevators, I pressed the down button, and waited.

‘Are we in a rush?’ Quentin asked.

I didn’t take my focus off the elevator doors, willing them to open. ‘We have thirty-seven seconds till the cameras in the garage come back on. Then we’re made. Thirty-two seconds.’ Leaving any kind of trail was bad.

Quentin’s posture stiffened beside me as he joined me in watching the doors. At twelve seconds to go, the ding came. Eight when the doors opened and two when they finally closed. Even for me, that was close, but I refused to show my relief to Quentin. If he realised how close it had been, he didn’t show it either. And damn if my respect for him didn’t go up a notch.

Without delay, I hoisted myself onto the railings. I pulled a small power tool from my back pocket and reached up, pressing it to the first of the four screws in the elevator’s ceiling hatch, waiting as each twisted out smoothly and soundlessly. Once the hatch was open, I gestured to Quentin. He was watching in slight horror.

‘Come on up. I’ll give you a boost.’

His lips curled. ‘You go first. I can boost you.’

I rolled my eyes, but let him hold onto his pride, placing the hatch just inside the hole before pulling myself fluidly into the dark opening and onto the elevator roof. It burned my upper arms. Just like every other time.

With a wave, Quentin followed the steps I’d taken, levering himself up and onto the ceiling. I pretended I didn’t see his arms shake as they took the brunt of his weight. I didn’t help him either – wouldn’t want to bruise that pride of his.

Once clear of the opening, I walked to the far side of the elevator shaft. ‘Stay on the support beam,’ I instructed.

‘Don’t you need to …?’ He pointed to the open hatch.

I shook my head. ‘Gus will hold the lift here for us for thirty minutes.’

‘He can do that?’

‘With the right contacts. Sure.’ Actually, it was damn hard to do and each time it cost us more money than we had to spare. It wasn’t just about hacking into the building’s electrics, but also paying off the night security to be particularly lazy in their rounds, and rerouting all other lifts to compensate for one being down. But Quentin didn’t need to know all of that.

‘Where does that go?’ he asked when he realised I’d stopped at a slim door between elevator levels.

I ignored his question and gestured to his M-Band. ‘Any chance anyone could track your GPS in the next twenty minutes?’

‘No, but I can put a haze on it just to be sure.’ He tapped a few keys.

‘You have a haze on your GPS?’ Hazes were expensive stuff and required a rigorous amount of paperwork and government clearances. They sent out a frequency wave to stop your GPS giving a pinpoint location. If the police had an emergency, they could override it, but even then, it would take time. Hazes were reserved for the seriously rich and famous. Which … he was.

He shrugged. ‘It’s a security precaution. The whole family has them, just in case anyone ever harasses us. Or in Zach’s case, if his wife is looking for him,’ he said with a grim smile, referring to his brother Zachery. ‘We’re not supposed to tell people we have them.’

‘Your secret’s safe.’ But I was totally jealous. Having a haze on my GPS would come in handy. Not that anyone was often looking for me, but still … I
was
often where I wasn’t supposed to be.

‘One more,’ he muttered as I opened the door.

We were silent as we headed down the tunnel. I listened intently for any sign of activity. The entrance wasn’t supposed to be guarded, but I’d been surprised before. I turned a corner carefully, grateful that Quentin was following my lead.

When we reached the larger tunnel network with the transit lines, Quentin was dazed, taking in the slim, flat tracks.

‘What is this place?’ he whispered.

I looked at him, feeling a pang of unwelcome sorrow. But he needed to be put to the test if I was going to be able to use him. And he deserved to know the truth.

‘Transit tunnels. And since this main one has no patrols, it’s the safest way to get around down here. The side tunnels are a different matter,’ I explained. Quentin stared at me and I let out a breath. ‘It was once all government property,’ I said. He didn’t need to know that the intricate system ran all the way to Mt Weather’s main facility. ‘
Now
, it’s a world of secrets.’

Maybe if he knew, just maybe, he could do something useful with the knowledge. If he was the guy I was starting to suspect he was.

From that point on, he was mostly silent. Just the fact that this place existed, let alone was controlled by his father’s company … It was a lot to take in and I didn’t push.

Walking briskly, I heard a familiar whirr and froze.

‘What’s wr—’ Quentin started to say. But he never had a chance to finish because, without a second thought, I fisted my hands in his shirt and pushed him into the shadows of the wall. I pressed into his body hard, willing us to melt into the wall, as the transit pod approached then whizzed by us at top speed. I didn’t dare glance behind me to see if there were any passengers aboard. I just waited. Listening for any sign that the pod was slowing or stopping. If it did, we were toast.

‘What the hell was that?’ Quentin breathed.

His chest was moving up and down in time with mine and I concentrated on it, using the distraction to calm myself down. I wasn’t sure if either one of our heart rates had beeped off. If they had, it would’ve been covered by the noise of the pod.

‘Transit pod,’ I said tightly. ‘That’s why there are no foot patrols in this tunnel.’

‘A bit of warning might’ve been nice,’ he said dryly.

A few moments passed and I kept concentrating on my breathing.

‘Um, Maggie?’ Quentin said.

‘Yeah?’ I replied, still distracted.

‘As nice as this is, I … I can’t breathe.’

It was then I realised I still had my body, head to toe, pressed flush against his. I jumped back. ‘Sorry,’ I said, quickly starting forwards again to cover my embarrassment.

Why the hell had I been so panicked? I’d done this how many times now? Why was tonight any different?

I glanced at Quentin. ‘Hurry up,’ I snapped.

Two junctions down we arrived at the doorway we needed.

‘Junction 17,’ Quentin said, reading the painted sign.

I put out my hand, still annoyed with myself. And him by default. ‘Code?’

Quentin read out the sequence, including spaces, and I entered it, wondering if this was it. If he’d set me up. Any moment sirens could sound and guards with more weapons than they knew what to do with could be on top of me. But this was part of the gamble. There was no way forwards without it.

The screen beeped, causing me to flinch, then required an M-Band verification barcode. I was grateful yet again for having Gus in my pocket. I reached into my backpack, pulled out the black-market band he’d programmed earlier and held it up for scanning. Like the others, it was untraceable and had been uploaded with a mid-level M-Corp scientist’s credentials. Ones that we’d anonymously extorted from him after I secured pictures of him downing lust-enhancers at Burn one night. It wasn’t just girlfriend concerns – though they’d definitely helped – it was highly frowned upon in M-Corp to alter Phera-tech. Although when you knew where those alterations actually come from, it was ironic.

Another thing Quentin probably didn’t need to know.

The door opened and we slipped in.

The lab was dimly lit, but there was enough light to see where we were going. I left Quentin to his wide-eyed explorations and headed straight for the main office, knowing that if there was any intel, it would be in the main computer.

I jumped right into my usual routine, pulling up the access files I needed while I called Gus again.

‘In?’ he answered.

‘Like Flynn.’

‘Give me the IP address?’

I rattled it off and then a series of other numbers Gus demanded, until he was satisfied. ‘Okay, plug it in.’

The data transmitter looked like an ordinary USB stick and was a much smarter option than trying to use any M-Corp tech to hack into their system. The transmitter was old school, like our phones, but Gus had also tweaked it so it would send him a mirror image of any computer we plugged it into. I glanced up to see Quentin moving around the stainless-steel lab silently, picking up paper files and glancing at them in horror. I could imagine what he was seeing on those files was as simple as transport orders, experimentation approvals and behavioural reports, but even that was enough for him to realise the face M-Corp showed the world was not the same as the truth underground. Not to mention the sterile environment, and the fact that it wasn’t supposed to exist. It was eye-opening stuff. And this was one of the small labs.

Quentin stopped dead in his tracks when he reached the far wall, and I strained my eyes in the low light to see what he was looking towards.

‘Streaming,’ I told Gus. Anxiously, I waited while he uploaded what he could. His hacking systems were incredible and nearly undetectable. As long as we got out of there unseen they would never know we’d been there. While I waited, I pulled out the small vial I’d brought with me and palmed it, ignoring the all-too-frequent twinge in my gut.

‘I can only access the files that guy’s ID was cleared for,’ Gus mumbled. Uploads were never a sure thing, and there was always a two-minute time limit before we had to pull the plug, just in case. ‘Okay, pull it,’ he said, and a second later the plug was out of the computer and I was closing all of the screens I’d opened, carefully ensuring I left the computer exactly as I’d found it, including the angle of the keyboard and mouse.