I’d better get cleaned up.Henderson’s probably to try and talk me out of it.She headed for the bathroom, rubbing her neck and grimacing.
She should have dyed her hair; the ash-blonde mane was too distinctive.Even Cath had gotten rid of her trademark mohawk, but Rowan couldn’t bring herself to fool around with Clairol.
That would be like admitting Justin was really gone, and she was on her own.As if I’m some idiot of a fainting maiden who keeps waiting for her man to come back.He cometh not, she said wearily, as she looked from her tower window.
Her mood was getting worse; she was even irritating herself.She kept breathing, deep down into her stomach, trying for calm.
The shower warmed up quickly; she ducked under the water and started scrubbing.No time to luxuriate in hot water.
Ten minutes later she pulled the white cotton tank top down and zipped up her jeans, tossing wet hair back.She’d braid it in the comm room.She attached the shoulder holster, checked the Glock, and shrugged on a hip-length leather coat.The knife went in her boot; she scooped up her kitbag—the canvas messenger bag holding an operative’s toys and tricks, settling it so the strap ran diagonally across her body.She unplugged the CD player and paused, looking around the bare white walls.
He’d stop by the door and smile, ask if I was ready.She shivered, gooseflesh rising on her skin.Maybe Cath’s right.Or maybe he’s dead.Maybe they killed him and I’m going to waste my life on a wild goose chase.
It just didn’t feel right.She wouldknowif he was dead.Wouldn’t she?Sigma hadn’t killed him; they needed to use him against the Society.He was alive, and if he was alive he would come back to her.He’dpromised.
And of course I believe him, don’t I?
Rowan swore, threw one last punch at the heavy bag, and left as it creaked back and forth, its hook sunk into a ceiling stud.This house was nice, and they’d been able to stay for a little while.Soon enough Sigma would close in with uncanny accuracy, and they’d be on the run again.It was as if the Sigma psions had suddenly gotten better…
…or as if someone was helping them.
She didn’t want to think about that, either.
Henderson pushed steel-rimmed glasses up, sharp nose wrinkling slightly.“Morning, Rowan.You ready?”The patch of white hair at his temple had grown, but his iron-colored eyes were still bright and interested, and he moved with the same fluid precision as always.
She understood why they called him “the General.”His air of command and cool confidence was almost archetypical in its depth.
“Ready as I’ll ever be.”She glanced at the table, collating the maps swiftly.He was going over the layouts of the building again, each exit, the city for a few blocks in either direction, and routes out of the metropolis.She knew he probably had everything memorized, but Henderson’s innate precision wouldn’t take “already memorized” for an answer.
Not when it had to be perfect, and an operative’s life was on the line.
Her life, today.She might have cause to thank him for being anal-retentive before sundown.
Her fingers flicked as she finished braiding, tied the thick rope with an elastic band.“What’s the chatter?”
“They’ve scheduled for 1600 when he gets home from work.Primary penetration unit and a net.”Henderson tapped a printout with one blunt, callused finger.Before Headquarters was destroyed he’d been the chief of covert operations for the Society.Now that the handful of psions fighting Sigma had been scattered, he was the closest to an official leader they had.Rowan had never really found out justwhowas the actual leader of the Society, but she suspected Henderson’s name would have been on the list of candidates.“With you to get in and get close, we should get him around 1100atwork.Is he ready?”
She nodded.“It was the file that convinced him.And the reporter that died of a so-called ‘heart attack.’”Her lip curled.I told Lewis it would happen.Then again, I wouldn’t have believed either, when I was a civilian.Her throat closed.Another life ended by the monsters who had killed her father.
And was Rowan responsible because she’d initiated contact?She tried not to think about that, either.“Sigma’s pushed him right into our hands.”Just like they pushed me.
“They have a habit of doing that.It’ll be nice to have another precog.Eleanor will like training him.”
Rowan cleared her throat a little uncertainly.“General?”
He knew what she was going to ask.The comm room was deserted—Yoshi’s laptop sat on a desk and Cath’s Dr.Who scarf was draped across an ergonomic chair.Henderson began rolling up the maps.“I can’t send you to Vegas, Rowan.I need you too much; you’re my second.”
Now that Justin’s gone?Hot anger flooded her throat.I’m not qualified for this, General.You know that.“I’m not a replacement.”
“No,” he agreed.“But you’ve stepped into the breach admirably.You’re cool under fire, you’re competent and talented, plus you got us all out of the disaster at Headquarters.”
I didn’t “get us out.”I nearly got us trapped and stuffed.“All except Justin,” she reminded him.
Henderson moved with exacting slowness, his hands steady.“Be patient, Rowan.He’ll come back.”
“It’s been five months.”She swallowed, her voice husky.I never used to be furious.The very idea of getting this angry used to be foreign to me.What happened?
She knew what had happened.They had stolen everything from her.Her father, her best friend—and Justin Delgado.
