Authors: Sarah Alderson
Alex nodded. He was staring out at the ocean, the line running between his eyes giving away his anxiety.
‘Did you hear about my dad’s job offer?’
He looked back at me. ‘Yes. Key heard you and your dad talking about it.’ He nodded to himself. ‘So, Richard Stirling’s here. Did you meet him?’
‘No,’ I said, shaking my head.
If I ever met Richard Stirling, I would probably inadvertently kill him. Or maybe not so inadvertently. I gazed down at the black waves slapping the pier beneath us. Then my eyes lit on an orange buoy out in the ocean about fifty metres away and just like that it started to move, as if it was a jet ski, tearing through the dark mass of water until it became a pinprick in the distance before vanishing over the horizon.
‘Hey, hey, Lila . . .’ I tore my gaze from the waves and looked back at Alex. He seemed troubled. I reached a hand over, unthinking, and stroked the line between his eyes until it disappeared. He took hold of my fingers. ‘You can’t lose it, Lila. You have to control your power. Especially, and I mean
especially
, around the Unit. If you do meet Richard Stirling, you can’t let him know how you feel. You can’t give yourself away. Promise me.’
‘OK,’ I whispered.
He held my gaze for a few more seconds, his lips pursed in an anxious way. He was right to worry. My record for self-control with regards to both him and my power was pretty terrible.
‘Have you heard anything from Demos and the others?’ I asked, hoping to steer him away from any more lectures about control.
‘They’re good,’ Alex said. ‘They should be in Washington soon.’
‘How long will they need to get everything in place?’
‘A day or so.’
I chewed my bottom lip, thinking about how long that gave me to figure out an escape plan. ‘I don’t know how we’re going to get Jack off the base, Alex,’ I finally admitted. ‘There are soldiers all over the place. And the headquarters is like some kind of Fort Knox – there are all these security checks to get through to even use the elevator.’
‘I know,’ Alex said quietly.
‘So, how will we get in? Let alone out?’
‘Maybe having your dad working for them isn’t such a bad idea,’ Alex said quietly.
I looked up, startled, snatching my hand out of his. ‘What?’
Alex said nothing for a while then he turned to me and I saw the moonlight had turned his eyes a pale blue topaz colour. ‘It could help having someone on the inside,’ he said.
‘No way!’ I shouted. ‘He needs to know, Alex. Imagine if it was me and you thought I was dead? It’s killing me not being able to tell him. It’s like this voice in my head is screaming all day long at me to tell him. We have to! We can’t let him work for them. It’s just too horrible.’
Alex shook his head at me. ‘If we tell him, he might not react so well. I know I’d struggle to act rationally in the same situation. And we can’t risk having him blow our cover. Right now we need to be able to control as much of the situation as we can. He’s an asset, but we have to keep him in the dark until the time comes when we can make use of him.’
I thumped the pier with my closed fist. It sure didn’t feel like the right thing to do. It made me feel sick just to contemplate my father working for the Unit. But Alex was the Recon Marine – and, though I didn’t like to admit it, maybe he was right. If my dad found out now, he’d probably try to do something crazy or stupid – like call the police – or, I drew in a breath, he might not even believe me.
Alex laid his hand on my arm. ‘We’ll just keep him in the dark for a few more days. And anyway, if he takes the job, then it also helps remove any suspicion off you,’ he said. ‘They’ll assume that if you did know about the Unit, or the fact they’re holding your mother, that you’d have told him.’
I sighed. I could see he was right. ‘I suppose.’
We sat thinking in silence for a minute, the waves slamming into the struts of the pier below us as if they could sense my own feelings of frustration and anger.
‘What about Jack?’ I finally asked. ‘They’re going to transfer him to prisoner holding even if my dad takes the job. They said they’d still need to process him even if they’re going to drop the charges.’ I looked at Alex. ‘Do you really think they’ll let him go like my dad says? Do you think they’re telling the truth?’
‘No.’ Alex shook his head. ‘There’s no way, not if they think he might know the truth about what they’re really doing. It’s too dangerous for them to risk it.’
‘So, shouldn’t we try to spring him now while we still can?’
Alex shook his head again, grimacing. ‘I think we might have to let them transfer him to prisoner holding. It’s easier having just one target. If we’re trying to break Jack out of the hospital and your mum out of headquarters, our focus is split, as are our resources. And there just aren’t enough of us. It would be easier to mount just one offensive against the headquarters.’
He saw the look on my face. ‘Lila, this was my job. This is what I’m trained for, remember?’
‘But what if we can’t get inside the headquarters?’
‘We will,’ Alex answered calmly. ‘When the time’s right. You need to trust me.’
I leaned into his shoulder. ‘I do trust you,’ I whispered. It was all just so frustrating. I didn’t know how he could stay so calm.
‘Do you trust Sara?’ Alex asked.
I turned to him. ‘I don’t know. For the most part I think she’s genuine. I really want to trust her, but . . .’
‘But what?’
‘I don’t know. I just don’t know.’
‘Always listen to your instincts, Lila. If you aren’t sure, she stays out of this. Don’t tell her anything, OK?’
I nodded and buried my head once more in his shoulder.
‘I think you should take the job, Dad.’
My dad looked up from his papers and put his mug of tea down on the table. ‘You do?’ he said.
‘Yes.’ I took a piece of toast and started spreading butter on it. ‘Like you say, Demos needs to be stopped. If you can help, you should.’
Lying, lying, lying. I was actually getting better with all the practice. My face was no longer turning as red as a stoplight and my voice no longer went up a pitch in tone.
‘Well, I still don’t know,’ my dad said. ‘It would mean moving over here and I’ve not given any notice back in London and—’
‘You could ask for compassionate leave. For Jack. I’m sure the hospital would understand.’
He paused. I knew he would already have done the maths on this. I was just giving him my endorsement.
‘Well, if you’re sure. I don’t want you here, but on the other hand, I actually think we might be better off near the Unit, with the security they can offer us. And I’m not going anywhere until Jack’s on his feet again—’ He broke off abruptly, realising what he’d just said.
I kept spreading butter. ‘You should tell them today. You know, get the ball rolling. Keep busy,’ I added, taking a bite of toast which instantly got lodged like a burr in my throat.
My dad nodded to himself then swept his papers up into a loose pile and walked through into the living room to make the call.
I watched him go then put my toast down and sat with my head in my hands.
‘Will you be OK if I leave you here for a moment?’ my dad asked. ‘I need to speak to someone about starting work. I need to get into a lab. There’s some things I need to set up.’
‘I’ll be fine,’ I answered weakly. ‘I’ve got an armed guard on the door, remember.’ I glanced at the opaque glass of the hospital door, through which the wavy black shape of a Unit soldier could be seen.
My dad came and ruffled my hair. ‘I like your hair by the way. Suits you,’ he said before he turned to open the door. ‘Back soon.’
I swivelled to face Jack. Same old, same old. The damn beep of machines and wheezing
hush
of the ventilator.
‘Wake up, goddamn you,’ I hissed. ‘I need you to hear me.’
Nothing.
‘You need a shave.’
Nothing.
‘Dad’s working for the Unit.’
Nothing.
‘He’s looking for a cure for people like Demos.’
Nothing.
I sighed then bent forward until I was right by his ear.
‘I’m madly in love with Alex and while you’ve been sleeping he kidnapped me and took me to Mexico and we went skinny-dipping. And let me tell you – it was A. Lot. Of. Fun. I’m sure you want to kick his ass, but oh, what a shame, you’re in a coma.’
Nothing. Then the machine, the beeping machine, started going faster. It was momentary, but the read-out showed a spike in his heart rate.
‘You can hear me,’ I said, blinking at Jack’s inert body in astonishment. Was I imagining it or had the peaceful expression on his face changed? Was that a muscle twitching by his eye? I bent down again so my lips were pressed against his ear. ‘Did I tell you about the double room?’
The machine definitely hiked for a second.
Beep. Beep. BEEP
.
I laughed under my breath, wondering if I should keep going to see if I could get him to wake up. Then I sat firmly back in my seat. I didn’t want to give him a stroke. I leaned forward one more time. ‘Please don’t kick his butt by the way.’
‘You must be Jack’s sister.’
I very nearly fell out of my chair. I spun round. A man was standing in the doorway. He was wearing military uniform underneath a white doctor’s coat. I caught the flash of medals slung across his chest. He was early thirties I guessed, with short dark hair and quick brown eyes. He crossed to the bed and picked up Jack’s chart.
‘I’m Dr Roberts. Your brother’s doctor,’ he said.
I studied him as he read the chart. He was about five foot ten, average build. He didn’t have the square musculature of the soldiers from the Unit, nor was he wearing black, but you never knew. I wasn’t going to trust anyone, especially not in this place.
He unwrapped his stethoscope from where he had it looped round his neck and pressed it against Jack’s chest, waited a few beats then noted something down on the chart. Then he crossed to the machines and started checking the read-outs. After a few seconds he looked over at Jack then back at the chart.
‘Something the matter?’ I asked.
‘No,’ he answered, still studying the read-out. ‘It looks like he had a spike in his heart rate a minute or two ago. I’m not sure what caused it.’ He frowned at the read-out and then he frowned directly at me.
I flashed him a wide-eyed, innocent smile and looked back at Jack. ‘How’s he doing?’
‘He’s healing well. Very well. We’ll take a look at how the wound is doing tomorrow. His vitals are fine, though. You should keep talking to him. There’s a chance he can hear your voice – it’ll help him come round.’
Or induce a heart attack.
‘Will he be able to walk?’ I asked, clearing my throat.
The doctor stared at me with what I imagined was the expression he wore when passing on bad news to relatives. ‘It’s impossible to tell at this stage how serious the damage is,’ he said. ‘The bullet went in here,’ he pointed to Jack’s stomach. ‘It nicked the rib here at the front and then lodged against his spinal cord here at the back. Until he wakes up and we can do further tests we won’t know whether or not he’s lost the use of his legs.’
I closed my eyes for a moment. ‘When will he wake up?’ I asked.
‘Who knows? He was heavily sedated at first, but we’ve eased up on that. These guys,’ he said, nodding at the bulky shadow of the Unit soldier standing on the other side of the door, ‘they want him up and about last week already. They’re putting pressure on me to bring him round, but there’s little I can do – he’ll wake up when he wakes up – his body needs time to recover from all the trauma. But now they’re talking about moving him soon to their headquarters. They don’t care if he’s conscious or not. I don’t know who these people think they are but . . .’ He muttered something under his breath.
My heart was hammering. The Unit were going to move Jack? I knew that Alex had said it might be for the best – all that stuff about split assets and resources – but now it was actually happening it suddenly didn’t seem like the best idea. I realised the doctor was still talking to me and in a daze turned back to face him.
‘I’m just still a little concerned about the way his stats are spiking,’ he was saying. ‘If it keeps happening, I’m going to have to keep him here under observation.’
He was staring at me intently, then just like that, he turned and walked out. I stared after him, blinking, wondering if I might have misheard or misinterpreted what he’d said or the laser-beam stare. But no, he’d clearly been offering a suggestion – a way to help keep Jack here in the hospital under observation. I smiled to myself. Maybe, with a bit more luck and a few more innuendoes whispered in Jack’s ear, I could find a way of getting my brother out of here before they transferred him. But was that the best plan? Or was I just panicking?
I got up and walked to the door, feeling frustrated. I threw it open and the man guarding it turned to face me, barring my exit with a gun the size of my arm held against his chest. I looked up, glaring, ready to demand he moved when I stopped short, drawing in a sharp breath.
‘Jonas?’ I stuttered.
The man in front of me was actually a boy. He was only a year or two older than I was. He had chestnut eyes and skin like burnished copper. In another lifetime, in a world without Alex, I might have found him hot.
‘Lila,’ he said, smiling. He gave a quick look up and down the corridor which was empty for the moment. ‘I didn’t want to disturb you.’
‘So, you’re what? On duty?’ I asked.
He flashed me a smile that showed off the white of his teeth and made him look about six, playing dress-up in commando clothes.
‘Yeah.’ He looked embarrassed, which was something I supposed. ‘This whole thing with your brother and Lieutenant Wakeman, it’s kind of big. They’re just wanting to make sure he’s secure.’
Right. Until they could transfer him to prisoner holding and keep him there indefinitely. That kind of secure.
He saw me wince because he started to mumble. ‘I mean, I don’t think Jack did anything wrong. It wasn’t like he had any choice . . . what with you being taken and then Demos and . . . what else could he do . . . ?’ He started scuffing the floor with the toe of his boot.