39
Kara - Present
Okay,soIadmitit. I lost my shit…again.
Just a teeny tiny bit, but come on. I’ve been dealing with a lot. Seeing Owen is like seeing my past play out in all its messy details in a shitty, slow-motion film.
Anya, Andrews, Luca Knight, the Covenant, the fucking hard drive.
I’ve spent years honing my skills. I’ve spent years being the best I can be. I’ve also spent years being scared to face the demons of my past.
One of the first things Andrews taught me is that the difference between being a hero and a coward, or having success over failure, is not whether you’re scared, it’s what you dowhileyou’re scared. That’s important.
And I’m scared right now.
Scared that the hard drive is as dangerous as Owen said. Scared that it was enough to have Andrews betray me. Scared that it was enough to send a kill squad after us. Scared to face Owen and our past. Scared to admit that I’m not sure what to do next.
I usually have a team, a plan, Andrews…
But I will not fail, and I will not be a coward.
Owen sits in the car, waiting.
I stand, but I don’t climb back in. Instead, I sit on the bonnet, letting the last bit of the heat of the engine warm me. Grounding myself in the moment.
I watch the small flies fly through the beam of the headlight and look up at the cloudless sky. The peace of the night isn’t lost on me, not when the inside of my head is so full and busy.
The car door opens and closes.
“Andrews used to take me star gazing,” I say as Owen joins me. “We’d have been training, or I’d have just come back from a mission. It may have been a heavy one. He used to drive me to the Royal Observatory in Greenwich. He said that when life gets too overwhelming, look up at the night sky and lose yourself for a while. That everything will soon quieten down when you take a moment and realise just how insignificant you are in the grand scheme of things.”
“We aren’t insignificant though, Luce. Far from it, what we have—”
“I know.” I glance across and smile tightly. “I want to see what’s on it. I want to see what he betrayed me for.”
Owen stares at me and nods.
“Are you okay?” he asks, after a moment of stillness.
I let his question linger.Am I okay?Such a simple question, with such a messy answer. “It’s what we do in these moments that makes us who we are.”
“So, what are we doing?”
“I’m still thinking.”
“I’ve got an idea.”
“What is it?” I ask, reaching out to try to catch a passing fly, missing.
“You’re right, we do need to go back to London, but we need to rest. You need to be stitched up…again, and I don’t think they will know to look where I’m going to suggest.”
“Why do I get the feeling I’m not going to like it?”
“You’re not.”
“Go on then, rip off the Band-aid.”
“It’s Maria’s,” Owen says.
