“The police are irrelevant. They’re ants.” Havoc waved a dismissive gesture. “You’re worried about jail. You should be worried about vivisection.”
A chill that had nothing to do with the wind crawled up my spine. “What are you talking about?”
“Oblivion. That chip isn’t a medical device. It’s a leash. And the man holding the other end, Tobias Dresner, wants his favorite toy back. He doesn’t handle loss well.”
Xavier’s head cocked to the side at the name Dresner. Something crossed his face. Not memory, but reaction. A flash of pain. His palm went to his head for a split second before he forced it back to the knife.
“He recognizes the name.” Clinical again. “Good. The conditioning is breaking down. That’s... messy. But useful.”
“Conditioning? You mean brainwashing?”
“I mean complete neural restructuring. We aren’t born, nurse. We’re made. Stripped down to the studs and rebuilt. New names. New purpose. No past.” He gestured vaguely at Xavier. “Blackout was the stealth model. Ghost in the machine. And Reaper...” A pause, dark humor lighting his features. “Reaper was the first to crack. He found a girl, too. Something about you women disrupts the programming. It’s annoying. Same for Specter. Damn it.”
He spoke about them like they were iPhones. Different models. Different specs.
And Xavier...
I watched the man beside me. He was reading Havoc’s lips, trying to understand, frustration tightening the corners of his jaw. He was a person.
“He’s not a machine. He’s a human being.”
Havoc met my stare with something almost like pity. “He’s a Quinta generation operative. He has a kill count higher than some plagues. He no longer has a childhood, he has a codename. The fact that he’s currently playing bodyguard for you is a malfunction according to protocol. A fatal one, if Dresner catches him.”
“Why are you helping us?”
The question cut through Havoc’s casual description of Xavier as a malfunctioning weapon. I stepped fully out from behind Xavier’s protective stance, ignoring his immediate attempt to block me again.
“Why reach out? Why warn us? You clearly don’t give a damn whether we live or die.”
Havoc’s jaw tightened. Annoyance flashed, cracking the bored mask for half a second.
“I don’t. Hellhound does. He’s been riding my ass for three days about extracting Blackout. Apparently, your boy here is the only surviving Quinta generation asset, which makes him valuable intel. Or a liability. Depends on the day.”
“Hellhound.” Another codename. Another weapon with a cute nickname. “Who...”
“Someone with a hero complex and terrible judgment.” He cut me off. “He thinks everyone deserves saving. I think most people deserve exactly what they get. We agree to disagree. Frequently.”
Xavier’s palm found the small of my back. Steadying. Or warning. Hard to tell.
“But you came anyway.”
The expression darkened. “I don’t want Dresner getting his hands on an operative who’s trying to get away. Call it professional courtesy. Call it spite. I don’t care what you call it.”
His gaze locked on Xavier with something that might have been respect if it wasn’t wrapped in so much cold calculation.
“Besides, watching their perfect soldier choose a girl over programming? That’s entertainment value right there. Dresner’s going to lose his mind. Again.”
I swallowed hard. The sleet hammered down over the structure.
“The chip. Could it be causing his muteness? The short-term amnesia?”
Havoc tilted his head, considering. Then shrugged, completely unbothered by the life-or-death implications.
“Don’t know. Neural conditioning usually doesn’t include voice suppression. That’s crude. Inelegant. Not Dresner’s style.” A pause. “But I’m not a neurosurgeon. Hellhound might know more. He’s been tracking Oblivion’s methods longer than I have.”
“Where is he?”
“Closer than you’d think. And getting impatient. So here’s how this works. You follow my instructions exactly, or I walk away and let Dresner’s hunters find you. Your choice, nurse and mute boy. But make it fast. And ditch your phone too.”
