Voice (21 page)

***

The preparation moved more quickly with voices than it had without, with everyone’s hands free and no tablet technology to explain. Ashley stopped to talk to them before they were ready to start.

“Dallas will ask questions to walk you through your story. It’s live, so make sure you avoid any curse words. He’ll split the questions between you two and try to keep the speaking time pretty equal, but Jemma, you’ll probably have a little more, just because of the nature of some of the later events.” She looked between them. “Any questions before I turn you over to Dallas?”

“One,” Jemma said, rubbing her arm, “but not about us. Your friend, the one you mentioned last time I was here. Did he come back?”

Ashley nodded, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. “He did. He’s okay, but he’s different. You mentioned volunteers, when you told me what happened. Maybe keep in mind that some of them didn’t exactly have a choice in whether or not they volunteered. They threatened his family, then told him he could stay and help or he could go and take his family on the run until they caught up. Even though it wasn’t much of a choice, he’s having a hard time knowing he was working with these people without them having to use the same force they did on you.” She walked away with another nod.

Jemma’s stomach clenched. What would she have done in that situation, if she’d been just a normal person, one whose family they’d threatened? Would she have helped, looked away while others were being hurt, just because they weren’t her family?

She wasn’t sure, and she saw uncertainty on Jack’s face, too.

They were waved over to the chairs for the final adjustments to lighting, and Dallas joined them, shaking their hands before he, too, sat. There was a small table in the center of the setup, Jack and Jemma on one side, Dallas on the other, all three chairs angled toward the camera. Jemma could feel her arm throbbing, and she knew she should take another of her pain pills, but she didn’t want to go on the air with her mind impaired.

When the signals started indicating the show was about to go live, Jemma felt some of her nervousness kick in at the idea of doing the televised interview. Last time, she’d been desperate, alone. This time, she felt more aware of the cameras, the noise, the rush of people, the push of energy.

Jack covered her hand with his, sending a wave of reassurance, and she felt her shoulders relax. She didn’t want to risk Talking to him when they were about to be on camera, but she sent back a surge of thanks along with her smile. Jemma looked at Ashley, who gave her an encouraging smile from near one of the cameras, and she looked over at the police, who were watching calmly from just off-set, standing between them and the nearest exit.

They were safe, for the moment. The senator wasn’t. If they did this, they might be able to help him. If they didn’t, well, she didn’t really need to think about what might happen to them, not in detail, not right before she had to tell the story. It would make it too hard to get through.

The buzz of the studio got louder, then a hush fell, the countdown started, and a light came on, letting Jemma know they were on the air.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE:

Gone Again

“Dallas Frederick here, and tonight, we bring you an exclusive interview.” The man was charismatic, assured, confident, his smile wide without detracting from his serious tone. Jemma knew she was letting some of her dislike for him show through her connection with Jack, their hands still linked, but he put her a little on edge. Jack sent a wave of understanding, and Jemma focused back on the man’s words. “You’ve heard about Tricorp BioD, about the people they held for study in their labs. Now, we bring you the world’s first interview with two of those who were studied. Stay tuned throughout the interview to discover what nobody outside of government and law enforcement seems to know: who, exactly, activated the cure to return our voices?” He turned from the camera to Jemma, his expression shifting to one clearly meant to demonstrate sympathy. “Jemma, tell me, when did you first discover that Tricorp BioD was interested in you?”

She swallowed before answering. She’d been through this before, lived it. She could tell it one more time. “We didn’t know who it was, at first…”

The interview went smoothly, at least initially, going exactly as Ashley had described. Some of the questions made her pause for a moment, but most let her and Jack respond almost automatically with the next part of their story, and as they took turns, Jemma was better able to ignore the cameras. She slowed a little when the focus shifted to her final week, to the time she’d spent in the facility without Jack. She didn’t have him to share the burden of the retelling, save for brief explanations of conversation, and the events had been harder on her. She knew the camera would be clearly able to see her clutching at Jack’s hand over the armrests of their chairs, but she didn’t care. She kept her voice steady, and she continued.

“So then you, Jemma, were the one responsible for the Return.”

Jemma shifted under Dallas’s gaze. “I couldn’t have done it by myself.”

“You risked yourself, multiple times, and you, ultimately, were the one who activated the cure, despite being injured, nearly blind, exhausted, and malnourished. Correct?”

She hesitated, then nodded. When the studio employees broke into applause, she jumped. Jack squeezed her hand.

“Now,” Dallas continued, “I was told, before we started, that the two of you believe that, despite the fact that we’ve been told no more dangerous employees of Tricorp BioD remain out among the public, we still might be in some danger.”

Her stomach and shoulders both tightly coiled, Jemma felt a surge of relief when Jack responded to his statement. “That’s right. First, you’ve already heard today how dangerous some of the assistants in the company are. We were told that the government was considering releasing the lower-level employees. We need them to take that on a case-by-case basis, not to do it all at once like it sounds like they’re considering.”

“I visited him. Josh.” Jemma looked at Jack, finding it easier than watching the cameras or Dallas. “He knew before we did that he might be released. He’s got some way of contacting people, and he says he has a lab. He’s already taken our voices once, and he’s ready to try again, because he thinks it’s the right thing to do, or maybe just to prove he can.”

“We tried to ask Senator Pratt for help finding his contacts, and for help keeping him locked up.” Jack looked toward the camera that had the current indicator light. “It was just hours later that the senator was taken.”

“Senator Pratt has been kidnapped?” Dallas’s reaction, for the first time in the interview, sounded genuine. Jemma looked at him, seeing him glance toward Ashley before looking back at them.

“He has,” said Jack. “We can’t prove that Tricorp was involved, but we’re sure of it. That’s why we’re here. We need everyone to know that this isn’t over, not yet. We need to save the senator. We need to keep people safe, especially the ones who’ve already been hurt. After Senator Pratt spoke, so did the public, and the government listened. I know we’re not in positions of power, but we’re hoping that you’ll listen to us anyway, and that you’ll do everything you can to help. We’ve gotten our voices back. If you want to keep them, you need to make sure they’re heard.”

Jemma sent her support for his words through their connection, then turned her attention back to Dallas.

“That’s all the time we have for tonight, but thank you both for joining us.” He turned and face the cameras. “With an exclusive you’ve only seen here, this has been Dallas Frederick.”

The on-air lights turned off, and the studio broke into organized chaos as they prepared their next segment. Dallas walked away from them, storming toward Ashley. Jemma moved toward the other woman before she’d consciously decided to. Jack, still holding her hand, followed immediately behind.

“You didn’t warn me about the senator, or that they were going to spring that on me,” Dallas hissed, his back to Jack and Jemma. Ashley watched him, her arms crossed, her face impassive. “I could’ve looked like an idiot on live television, on my own segment.”

“You didn’t, did you? You had everything under control, just like you always do.” Ashley kept her voice even, but Jemma felt her fists clench watching how Dallas towered over the woman while he spoke. Before she could decide the best course of action, Jack stepped forward, releasing his hold on Jemma.

He positioned himself next to Ashley and Dallas, putting his hand out, almost between them, for a handshake. “Thank you both for your help tonight. We couldn’t have done it without you.”

Jemma watched as he defused the situation, each of the stronger personalities walking away satisfied. Her brow was furrowed and a smile was pulling at her lips when he turned back to her. “How do you do that? How do you know how people are going to react?”

He rubbed his neck. “That one wasn’t too hard. Most of the time I’m just guessing, but they reminded me of my friends from high school, before I found my way into the computer world. They were stubborn and drove each other crazy. I had to learn how to talk them down or they’d have torn themselves apart.”

“Are you still in touch at all?” For all of their discussions, she hadn’t heard Jack go into detail about any of his friends. He’d spent so long taking care of his father that most of his friends had been only casual ones.

He shook his head. “Not really. We might exchange a message once every year or two. They went away for college, and they each stayed away. Carrie’s in Boston, Blake in California.”

“Distance is hard.” Her own situation had been almost the inverse, but with the same result; her friends had come to the area for college, then moved home afterward.

“Mhmm.” He stroked her cheek, and she leaned into the touch, watching as a smile grew on his face. “Let’s get home.”

***

They’d just stepped outside the doors of the news station, Jemma blinking at how much later it was than she’d realized, when she felt herself being pulled away from Jack and from their police escort.

“Please come with us, Miss Tyler.” She hadn’t even seen the men approach, but they had a firm grip on her arms. The one on her good side held her upper arm, and the one on her bad side held her lower arm. They were trying not to hurt her. “This will be easier if you come quietly.”

They were walking her toward a car parked by itself at the far end of the parking lot. She looked toward the man on her left. He was wearing a suit, and he was armed. The one on her right looked the same, and only their skin tones differentiated them. Even their haircuts were identical, as far as she could tell; their faces were blurred at that angle.

“Jack,” she sent, trying to tamp down her panic, even though he wouldn’t be able to feel it. She knew she couldn’t fight them, not with her current limitations. Then again, she wasn’t sure she’d have been able to fight them even without the limitations. Jack wasn’t a fighter, either, and she didn’t want him doing anything reckless. “Are you still there?”

“They’ve got me right behind you.” His mental voice was reassuringly close. “Another one stopped the cops. It looked like he showed them something, though, not like he threatened them.”

“You mean they’re just letting this happen?” Jemma’s steps faltered until the men leading her forward helped her continue. “Does that mean this isn’t Tricorp taking us?” She couldn’t quite focus, her emotions shifting wildly between hope and panic.

“I don’t know. But it doesn’t look like they’re splitting us up. I’m right here.”

She focused on Jack’s voice as the men opened the door to the back seat of the black sedan and released her. “Get in,” ordered the one on her right.

She took the opportunity to pull away and study him. He was calm, focused, in control. He had none of the compassion on his face that she’d seen with Heidi or with any of the guards she’d hoped might be willing to help. She didn’t think they could negotiate with him, and—her eyes darted back toward the building—she didn’t think they could get away unharmed.

“Who are you?” she asked. The man pointed, while the other took a step toward her. She climbed into the car, and Jack was just seconds behind her, taking her hand as soon as he was in. The door slammed shut behind them.

There was an opaque, black glass separating the back seat from the driver, like a separator in a limousine, and the windows were heavily tinted. Otherwise, the inside of the car looked unremarkable. Jemma tried the handle on her side, unsurprised when the door remained firmly shut. The window, too, seemed to be locked.

“No luck over here, either,” said Jack aloud.

The car started moving. Hands shaking, Jemma fumbled for the seatbelt, buckling herself in and then watching Jack until he did the same.

“Phone,” she said, remembering the cell phone in her pocket. She shifted to reach it, then frowned down at the screen.

No service.

They were in the middle of town. How did she have no service? She looked at Jack and saw that his phone had been similarly disabled.

“What’s going on, Jack?” she whispered, cradling the phone in her lap, only dimly aware of the fact that he was stroking her hand with his thumb.

“I don’t know. I don’t think it’s Tricorp, though.” She could feel Jack watching her. “It doesn’t feel like them. They didn’t hurt us, didn’t drug us, didn’t take our things, didn’t split us up.”