I find myself out in the courtyard. It’s been roped off by police tape and unmarked SUVs.
I tell the story of what happened about eight times. I’m not even sure who I’m talking to half the time—it’s all a blur of faces and noises and demands.
I omit certain details, of course. Nonna becomes “That Nice Old Lady Next Door Who I’ve Definitely Never Met Before.” I absolutely do not talk about Edgar. I hold my backpack between my knees, his chassis hidden in the secret pocket. I will have to find him a new portable body, but that’s a problem for later.
When I am asked what happened to Eames and Piper, I simply tell them that I don’t know. I pushed Hannah Vale into the pool to disable her ringware and cut her access to the mainframe, and then I awoke several minutes later, having been pulled to safety.
It’s only when I see Prefect in a rumpled white dress shirt that I realize I’m wearing his suit jacket over my soaked clothes. He must have put it on me at some point.
He sits down beside me and exhales. He looks bone-tired. The first button on his shirt is undone and there’s no tie to be found. It’s the most wrecked I’ve ever seen him, and I wonder what he has been doing for the last few hours. Probably fighting with SWAT to keep them from storming the building or something.
“Prefect,” I say.
“Augusta,” he replies.
Neither of us speaks right away.
“Consul alive?” I ask.
He dips his chin in a begrudging nod. “Unfortunately.”
I huff out a laugh. “That’s a terrible thing to say about a coworker.”
“When that coworker turns traitor and sells out two informants, endangering the lives of civilians and my asset, no. It’s not a terrible thing to say.” He reaches to straighten a tie that isn’t there, makes a face, then puts his hands in his lap. “And the one time we met in person, she took the last doughnut from the office kitchen.”
“Oh, well,” I say wryly, “she absolutely deserved to get shot, then.”
He gives me a tolerant smile. “We’ll all be undergoing some security checks, I believe.”
“Oh, great.” I snort. “The most paranoid federal agency is about to get even more paranoid.”
To ISD, my victory is half won. Hannah Vale and her crew are captured—but I lost Project Persephone. I lost ISD’s best leverage against Vale. She’ll be convicted but she won’t be used. All those hacks she perfected—she won’t divulge them.
Prefect’s gaze slants away. A silent confirmation. “Wereviewed all the faces you ran through facial recognition. Carla William and Oliver Dawson were part of Ratiocination, along with Vale.”
“Oliver Dawson?” I ask, frowning.
“The hacker.”
“Oh, you mean Bud.”
Prefect grinds his thumb into the line between his brows. “Oliver ‘Bud’ Dawson. They were part of Vale’s little cyberterror crew.”
“Not terrorists,” I say. “Vale was in this for money and revenge, not a cause.”
I glance toward the building. There are still many people being evacuated—EMTs helping out children and the elderly; middle-aged people milling about the little rescue center that’s been set up; kids playing an impromptu game of tag.
“You should talk to Carla.” I lick my dry lips. My mouth still tastes of chlorine. “If anyone’s going to make a deal, it’ll be her.”
Prefect inclines his head. “I’ll take that into consideration.”
“So what about Consul, Corey, and Anasova?”
“Consul is being retired.”
I scrunch up my face. “Retired? That’s it? Like, I am not a law expert but I think words like ‘treason’ and ‘aiding and abetting’ should be thrown around right now.”
“Oh, no,” he says, “she will never see the inside of a courtroom.”
