Then the pain hits me. Pain and I are old friends—we shook hands during the car crash that killed me and then it followed in my footsteps in the years afterward. I might have titanium pins in my bones, regrown muscles, a new cheek and nose, but the fixes weren’t perfect. I can feel the ache of the old injuries when I overwork myself. And the last few hours have been nothing but work. My head throbs in time with my pulse and my mouth is too dry. My visor and ringware are gone.
I’ve never been hungover but I’m pretty sure this is what it feels like.
I crack one eye open. At first, everything is a blur. I blink again and again until I’m sure of what I’m seeing.
I’m tied to a metal folding chair. My hands are behind my back, my ankles zip-tied to the chair’s legs. My shoulders protest the stretch.
The room has concrete floor and walls, the mainframe lights blinking softly in shades of red and green and blue,the keyboard and monitor, a spare garbage can with a bit of gum stuck to one side, and a single scrap of paper with a pen resting beside it. These smart buildings are designed to be self-sufficient, but a place this large would have someone stop by at least once a day to check on the system. I wonder what happened to that employee. Perhaps they weren’t in here when the building was taken. I hope not.
This is the beating heart of the building, the place where Vale could end hundreds of lives with the push of a button.
I can’t stop her. I’m tied to a chair, head throbbing and still a little drugged. And I’m not alone.
I close my eyes. Let them think I’m still asleep.
“—kid. This is the person that’s been taking out my crew?”
I recognize the crisp feminine voice. It’s smooth and cold as steel.
Hannah Vale.
A sigh. This one is heavy, male. “She looked older through a scope.” That must be Corey aka Mr. Muscle.
And then a third voice. “It’s brilliant, actually,” says Carla.
I bite back a curse. Corey must have freed her after Eames escaped. If he escaped.
“Why?” says Corey.
“Think about it,” says Carla. “No one looks twice at a teenager. No one would suspect her. She’s the perfect plant. How long until she wakes up?” Her voice grows louder, as though she’s approaching me. I keep my face slack, my breathing slow.
Corey makes a thoughtful noise. “That dose was meant for someone lighter, so not long.”
“We have other darts, I assume?” Vale says. “You didn’t waste them all?”
Corey scoffs. “Such faith, Hannah. I’ve got plenty for when you need them.”
Vale makes a frustrated sound. “Well, they won’t do us any good right now. Corey, get back to the second floor. Keep searching.”
“I don’t get why we’re searching at all,” grumbles Corey. “They were supposed to be handed over already. You think something happened?”
“Shehappened, most likely,” says Vale coldly, and there’s no doubt that she’s talking about me. “Someone sent her, but they didn’t use official channels. Extra protection and all that.”
“One wraith,” says Corey, “shouldn’t be that hard to deal with.”
“You say that because you have never dealt with them before.” Vale’s voice sharpens. “Corey, keep searching. Carla, can you get Bud and Anasova?”
“Those doors are locked and secured,” says Carla. “There’s a security code I can’t get through.”
My left foot twitches. I can feel Matthew’s ring where I stashed it in my shoe. If I had been wearing it, they would’ve taken it with the rest of my gear.
Carla continues. “You’ll have to hack the doors manually. Or you can ask our little saboteur here. She’s awake.”
Shit.
“All right,” says Vale. “You two, get to work. I’ll deal with her.”
There is a shuffle of feet, then a door opening and closing. I hear the click of boot heels on concrete, and then fingers take hold of my chin and gently tilt my face up.
