Sydney rubbed her eyes. She looked more exhausted than Winter had ever seen her. “Whoever killed Niall is likely the same group that has been targeting you and me,” she said to Tems.
“Seah was my key suspect,” Tems replied darkly. “Apparently he was only part of the story.”
Winter shuddered at the memory of Sydney’s attacker at the airport. The walls around them felt like they were closing in. “Who else would want you all dead?”
“Whoever targeted the president,” Sydney muttered, “must have known that Panacea was behind this effort to protect Rosen.” She looked at Tems. “We should have gotten you out of the country when we first arrived.”
At that, Tems narrowed his eyes at Sydney. “Are you saying this is my fault?”
“I’m saying Niall might be alive if we hadn’t changed his plans.”
“Niall would have come here,” Tems snapped, “whether you changed your plans or not. Have you already forgotten that someone was targeting you the instant you and Winter landed in this country? You were all wrapped up in this.”
“Niall was a seasoned agent,” Sydney said. “To catch him off guard like that isn’t normal. Nothing about this mission is normal.”
“Give me an example of a normal mission,” Tems said. “Or have all your missions been textbook? Because this isn’t the first time mine have gone wrong.”
“This is the first time I’ve lost someone,” Sydney said.
“You’re lucky, then,” Tems snapped. “Because it’s certainly not mine.”
There was a hollowness in his eyes that struck Winter, a flash of fury that brought his brother back into his memory with startling clarity.Suddenly, he saw his brother sitting here with his arms outstretched, his expression a cloud of frustration. Winter had only ever seen him like that once, two days after he’d returned from one of his trips: Winter had complained about something silly, asked his brother why he couldn’t come along to an audition. Artie had exploded in return, had asked him why he couldn’t do anything without Artie beside him, why he had to rely on him so much.
I’m sorry,Artie had said to him later that night. He’d said it with a shake of his head and a look in his eyes so sad that Winter had forgiven him without a second thought, just grateful to have his older brother back in the same house for a while.
At the time, Winter still thought Artie worked for the Peace Corps, not Panacea. Now he looked back and wondered what kind of mission Artie had really been on. Whether his brother had lost someone on that trip, too.
“Let it go,” Winter said quietly.
Tems and Sydney looked at him in unison, eyes flashing, but Winter just stared grimly at them both.
“Grief takes the shortest path it can find,” he said. “And the shortest path is at each other. Let it go. It won’t help us now.”
Tems glared at him, although he didn’t answer with a retort. Instead, he straightened and headed toward the door. “Check in at zero three hundred,” he called over his shoulder.
Winter watched him reach the door and swing it open. It clicked shut behind him, sealing them in silence.
He turned his eyes back to Sydney. She was looking out the window, her eyes far away. Perhaps she was lost in a memory of her own loved ones, people now forever out of her reach.
Again, he tried calling Claire. Again, no signal. He tried Dameon. No luck.
“Shit,” he muttered.
He hesitated, staring down at the next number on his phone. Gavi.
She had gotten a local phone card. He might still be able to call through to her. They’d risk getting tracked—but their options were running out.
He dialed her. Sure enough, it went through. She picked up after the first ring.
“Winter,” she said breathlessly. She sounded like she was in a chaotic crowd of voices. “Winter, thank god. Where are you?”
“I’m safe,” he said.
“Where are”—her voice cut out for a second—“everyone’s looking for you.”
“You told me you owe me a favor,” he said.
She seemed to suck in her breath, then quieted her voice. “I did.”
