Authors: Julie Cross
“They are,” I said firmly. “More so than anyone else.”
I picked up a box of matches, buried under more pictures. The words
BILLY’S TAVERN
were printed in black across the white box. “Do you know this place?”
“No … never heard of it.” Stewart glanced at the rope ladder and then back at me.
“We should go back up.”
I could see she was worried about the same thing I was: Would the floor close up again?
And did anyone else know about this secret hideout?
Only one way to find out.
When we had returned to the safety of Dad’s closet, both of us started feeling around
the walls for switches or triggers. “Maybe I should lean against it like I did before?”
“Go for it.”
I carefully stepped over the hole and pressed my back to the wall. Nothing happened.
“Well, this sucks.”
Stewart frowned, her forehead wrinkling with concentration. “Try touching the wall
with your hands. It’s possible there’s a biometric fingerprint—”
The carpet instantly began to merge the second my fingers hit the wall, cutting off
Stewart’s explanation. “Okay, smarty-pants … how’d you know that?”
“Lucky guess.” She watched as the carpet sealed itself shut, leaving almost no trace
of a line where the floor was split in half. “I wonder if you have to remove all the
weight from the floor to get it to open. I’m sure you’ve never taken every single
item out of your dad’s closet, then touched your hands to the wall.”
“Nope. Can’t say that I’ve done that before today. But it recognized my fingerprints?”
She shrugged, looking just as frustrated as I felt with the lack of answers. The sound
of the apartment door opening jolted us back to the present and we both ran down the
hall so fast we nearly plowed into Senator Healy.
The grim expression he wore wasn’t in the least bit encouraging. “Agent Stewart …
Jackson … I’m sorry for sending you here with false hope. Unfortunately, I have some
more bad news.”
He gestured toward the living room couch, but neither of us moved. Stewart was holding
her breath, just like me. Healy sighed and turned to face us directly. “I’m so sorry
to have to tell you this, Jackson. It seems … well … it seems your father may have
made a deal with Eyewall.”
He’s still alive
. I couldn’t help feeling relieved. My dad was still alive.
“What kind of deal?” Stewart asked. I could see her game face clearly plastered on.
“Agent Freeman and I have been working on this investigation for a week now,” Healy
said. “The EOT that we captured in Germany—Cassidy—escaped, though we thought it was
impossible. Agent Freeman also confided in me about a bribe Agent Meyer had been offered
several months ago.”
“What?” Stewart and I both said.
The grimness returned to Healy’s face, but even worse than a minute ago. “He was offered
a cure … something that hasn’t been discovered yet…”
“Cure?” I asked, feeling utterly confused.
Stewart glanced at me, holding my gaze for a second before whispering, “For cancer,
right?”
Healy nodded slowly, confirming her theory. “Most likely he’s been taken to the future …
to help Eyewall…”
I felt like the wind had been knocked out of me. He wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t
leave me alone just to chase some idea that most likely was a trap.
“Wait … is that even possible?” Stewart demanded. “Wouldn’t it kill him?”
“One jump won’t kill him. And he isn’t the first to accept a bribe,” Healy said. “Treason
is a threat our agency has to deal with constantly.”
My head spun. This was too much to handle. What did I have left to keep me grounded
to this timeline, or any, for that matter?
“Unfortunately, we can’t discuss this further at the moment,” Healy said. “The reason
I sent the two of you here is because I knew you’d be tailed and we’d have a chance
to counterattack the opposition.”
“Eyewall,” Stewart said. “Who’s tailing us?”
“I’m not sure specifically which agents. However, our entire mission team is already
chasing agents on foot. We knew Dr. Melvin’s death was the kickoff event,” Healy said.
“The two of you are going to walk out of this building and go separate ways. Agent
Parker is placed across the street, giving me updates.”
“What’s the exact assignment?” Stewart asked.
“Catch them,” Healy said simply. “If you can keep them alive for questioning, that’s
preferred, but keep in mind, they may have the same plan. However, I can guarantee
it won’t be for very long.”
My whole body was numb from shock … from the overwhelming sense that everything was
way too big for me to handle. But the second we stepped out into the very early morning
air, I saw the small, blond-haired agent hiding out behind Parker, waiting to follow
him.
And I knew I’d have to be the one to chase Holly.
Stewart turned her back on me immediately and headed toward the street corner. I made
brief eye contact with Parker and turned on my coms unit.
“Let me take Blondie … I’ve got her profile memorized already.”
“Copy that.”
Relief washed over me as Parker turned his attention and his gun to another agent.
Holly’s figure dissolved behind a bus and I took off on foot after her.
Her pace picked up and I almost didn’t see her head for the subway steps. She froze
in front of the turnstile and glanced over her shoulder, getting a full view of me.
Her eyes bugged out and then she pushed the man in front of her through the gate,
leaping over the turnstile in the process.
Okay … obviously she isn’t going to surrender quietly.
I flashed a fake FBI badge to the operator and jumped the turnstile, following her.
Several people screamed as Holly tore through the crowd, shoving aside bystanders,
who then ended up blocking my path. But the loudest screams of all came when she jumped
down onto the tracks.
“Damn it, Holly!”
This is not what I had planned. She’s supposed to get scared and give up without a
fight
. The last thing I wanted was for her to risk her life just to run from me.
She was safely on the other side before I had even jumped down. I hated getting on
the tracks, but I did it anyway. The second my feet hit level ground again, the next
train came barreling through.
I could see her about twenty feet in front of me and figured she’d get on the subway,
make a plan knowing I wouldn’t do anything too drastic on a crowded train. The doors
opened, but she didn’t get on. She ran farther through the tunnel, where there was
only a few inches between her and the train. I reluctantly followed.
She moved across the narrow space with such ease, it was clear all those years of
walking on balance beams came in handy. The people boarding the train had become a
distant blur. The dark swallowed us both, but I could see her small frame moving forward.
Then she just vanished. It took me another twenty seconds to reach the opening in
the tunnel that she had dived into.
A large brown door and another staircase … going down. The stairs led to a dark hallway
that smelled like sewage and moldy water. Her hair flew behind her and I focused my
eyes on it.
At least I
tried
to, until a shoe made contact with the side of my face, throwing me against the wall.
I recognized the Eyewall agent from our list of suspects. The dude reached his hands
for my throat and I sprang into action, tossing him onto the hard tile floor.
I used the technique the martial arts experts had taught us in China, squeezing his
neck just enough to make him pass out. I swiped his gun and ID before sprinting to
catch up with Holly. My eyes still hadn’t adjusted to the dark, so I was really surprised
to hear the sound of her breathing, like she was close by, very close.
“Dead end,” a male voice said from my right side.
Sure enough, Holly was pressed against the wall, running her hands along the surface,
like she might find a door. The dude to my right lunged toward me and I knocked him
out easily with a hard blow to the temple using my elbow. He stumbled back toward
the wall and slumped down.
“Flynn!” the first injured man, having regained consciousness, managed to shout, but
it sounded more like a dying croak. “Do it! Now.”
The whites of Holly’s eyes shone through the dark and she dove sideways into a door
I hadn’t even noticed. I leaped in after her and both of us jumped when the door slammed
behind us. A loud click echoed through the near-silence. I could hear Holly breathing
hard and could feel the smallness of the space. Like a tiny room.
The light from my cell phone was enough to see her face illuminated with fear. I bounced
the small light around the walls and realized she had most likely led me right into
this trap. That was the plan all along. Eyewall knew we’d follow … knew we’d go man-to-man.
A sick feeling rose in my stomach. Had Stewart and Kendrick already chased their targets
down? Were they trapped like me? And where were all the others … Parker and Freeman?
The rustle of movement forced me to shine the light on Holly again.
“Back up!” She pointed her gun at me, like she had in my apartment two nights ago,
except she didn’t look nearly as shaky this time.
I lifted my hands in the air and found my way to the corner farthest from her. “Guess
you tricked me. Nice job.”
She walked toward the door and kept one hand on the gun and one fumbling with the
weird bar across the center of the door. This room was about the size of a very large
walk-in closet and didn’t appear to have any other exit except the one door we’d come
in.
I watched as she pressed harder and harder against the bar, swearing under her breath.
“I think it’s locked,” I finally said, resting my back against the wall.
“No … no way. They’d never lock me in here with…” She snapped around swiftly to face
me, putting her second hand back on the gun.
“Obviously, they did. For all we know, it might be a long wait. Are you seriously
going to keep that gun pointed at me for hours? My arms are gonna get really tired
up in the air like this.”
“Yes,” she said through her teeth. “I’m going to keep my gun pointed at you until
I either decide to shoot you or I pass out or die.”
“Okay, then,” I said with a groan. “This should be a blast. Maybe you can just shoot
me in the leg or something. Then we can both sit down. I’m pretty tired from that
run you just took me on.”
“You’d rather be shot in the leg than have your arms get a little tired?”
“You won’t shoot me.” I shone the light on her face again to get a good view of her
expression—pissed off, as I predicted.
“Try me.”
I aimed the light around every wall, one at a time, though I had already memorized
the dimensions. “Well … based on the size of this little jail cell, if you missed
the shot—”
“Oh, I won’t miss.”
I knew I shouldn’t have been turned on by that, but I sort of was.
Commando Holly
… a new nickname. “Anyway … if you did miss … the bullet would bounce off these walls
and there’s a very good chance it would be headed your way.”
She had her cell phone out now, punching in a text message that I knew for a fact
couldn’t be sent from underground. I waited until she glanced at me again, then I
quickly whipped out my gun and the one I’d swiped from the other agent.
Her gasp was completely involuntary, as was the arm that instantly lifted to cover
her head.
“See? You still haven’t pulled the trigger,” I said, and then I opened both pistols
with my thumbs. I tucked one gun under my arm and from the other removed each bullet,
one at a time. They clanked against the tile floor. Once the bullets from both guns
were all on the floor, I set the guns on the floor and slid them across with enough
force that they collided with Holly’s tennis shoes. “Holly—”
“Agent Flynn,” she snapped, still pointing her gun at me.
“Right,
Agent Flynn
. Now that I’m unarmed, I’m gonna sit down until someone comes looking for us.”
She walked across the room, only a couple feet away from me now. “Take off your clothes.”
Again … kind of a turn-on. But I forced the thought from my head, knowing this could
be the setup they had intended. Holly would no doubt be able to distract me, as she
had proven at Healy’s ball. I kicked off my shoes and handed them to her.
“And your shorts,” she said, but this time her confidence wavered just a bit.
“Seriously?”
“Yep.” She tossed my shoes in a corner.
I sighed heavily and unbuckled my belt, then slipped out of my shorts, standing barefoot
in boxers and a polo shirt. “This is when the door opens, right?”
I could see her roll her eyes. “Hand me your shirt, too.”
“I’m totally having a middle school flashback right now.” I pulled off my shirt and
tossed it at her.
She waved it in the air like a flag, then picked up my shorts from the floor. Those
were turned upside down until my wallet, keys, and phone tumbled to the floor. She
threw the shorts at me after yanking out my belt. “You can put them back on now.”
“Thanks so much,
Agent Flynn
.” After my clothes were back on, I sat on the floor, in my corner.
Finally, she sat on the floor in the corner diagonal from me, relaxing a little. The
gun stayed resting in her lap along with her cell phone.
“You look tired,” I said. Now that my eyes had adjusted to the minimal light I could
see her better.
“Sleep-deprivation training,” she admitted with a heavy sigh.
“What is that, exactly?” I lifted the bottom of my shirt up to my face, wiping the
sweat from my forehead.
“Regulated and monitored sleep decreasing over the course of six weeks. I’m on a strict
three-hours-a-day maximum. We also take daily mental competency tests to see how we
handle less sleep.” She glanced wistfully at the door. “God … I don’t get why they
locked me in here with you. That was
not
the plan. There was supposed to be another door … an exit.”