Betrayal

“The roof,” Raine says. “They’ll be coming up the elevator and stairs.”

We race to the roof and look over. Dozens of Security vans have converged on the two streets below. We tie down the rope ladder and throw it over the narrow alley walkway on the other side. Raine goes over first, the sword still in her hand. “Leave it behind,” I say, afraid she’ll lose her grip.

“Not a chance,” she answers, and begins her descent. I tell her I’ll follow once she reaches the ground, worried that Hap’s handiwork won’t hold us both at the same time. She balks, saying there isn’t time and she won’t continue unless I come along right now. I do, praying with each rung that the carefully woven twine will hold, and relieved when the last few rungs are finally in sight. We jump the last few feet to the ground just as Security Officers round the corner and spot us. They yell for us to stop and aim their weapons, the red target lights already centered on our chests. We freeze, both of us lifting our hands into the air, but then someone else rounds the corner behind them.

Hap.

He silently reaches out, grabbing both by the necks, lifting them off the ground. We hear them scream but we don’t wait to see what else happens. Hap has given us our chance to run and we do, because we know more officers will be right behind them in pursuit. We turn down alleys, duck between buildings, and take cover in stairwells.

I hear Raine’s ragged breaths but she never lags, pulling me into shadows and crevices I didn’t know existed, more familiar with these alleyways than I am. We pull flat against a wall as a Security van races past hunting for us, and we stop breathing when forces on foot run down nearby passageways, guns in hand.

When it’s safe, we escape from one dark corner to another, trying to gain some distance between us and them. After a full minute passes with no sight of them, we make a break for the Commons across the street, running low through cars that slam on brakes to avoid us, and we don’t stop running until we reach the public gardens and the hidden entrance to Arlington station. We go halfway down the steps and finally stop, taking a moment to catch our breath.

“I’ve got to go in to get him now,” I say. “It won’t be long before the Secretary’s free and he figures out where we’re headed.” I look down the steps trying to see into the cavern. “Someone was supposed to meet me here. He must still be on his way. Wait here. It’s not safe for you to go farther.”

Raine grabs a fistful of my sleeve, stopping me. “Hold on just a minute,” she says sarcastically. “You’re not going anywhere without me.”

“Raine, you don’t understand. It’s dark down there and—”

“And I’m pretty damn good with this sword. I seem to recall you telling me there’s safety in numbers and it doesn’t hurt to have someone who cares about you covering your back. Your pearls of wisdom don’t work both ways?”

“But—” I look at her face. She’s an easy read right now, the obstinate tilt of her chin, her eyes wide, resolute, and unblinking, and I know it’s useless. There’s no arguing with her. I’ve more than met my match. I bend down and kiss her. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

We make our way down the rest of the steps and as we go I explain to Raine where the four light panels are but that I don’t know if those four are enough to get us all the way to where Karden is. The files started closing before I pinpointed them all. “Stick close,” I say.

“Right on your back,” she answers.

I find the first light panel, which is deftly camouflaged in the streaked concrete near the entrance, and I press it. The distant red light and the hum radiate the prescribed distance, but then I hear another noise behind me. Raine and I both spin. Carver steps out of the shadows.

I straighten from my crouched position where I was ready to spring. “You shouldn’t sneak up like that. I almost—” I look around. “Where’s Xavier?”

“On his way. You said you had the knife.” He puts his hand out, waiting for it.

“We’re going in for Karden now. There isn’t a lot of time.”

“You’re taking her?”

Raine doesn’t know Carver from Adam and bristles at his tone. “I’m his daughter. Why not?”

Carver shakes his head. “Do whatever you want,” he says, like he’s suddenly stopped caring about details, as though he’s forgotten how hard we’ve all worked toward the goal of saving Karden. He stretches his hand out farther. “But give me the knife,” he says again, this time with urgency. His coolness is gone. The hunger, the need, the sharp pinpoints of his eyes—it all has new meaning.

That’s when all my nagging thoughts tumble into order. The note window that Carver gave me on the first night we met; the aged piece of paper in the Secretary’s desk; the address of the house that burned down that was oddly familiar even though I had never been there before; the numbers I recognized though they were new to me. Almost. All handwritten. Notes written years apart. But all with the exact same handwriting. Lesson two: You may never know precisely who the enemy is.

I step closer to him. “You’re going to burn in hell, Carver.”

He looks at me like I’m crazy, but just as quickly I see him grow tired of the game. Feigning denial is too much work and apparently not necessary anymore now that he thinks he has what he wants. He pulls a gun from his pocket and aims it at me. “Hand it over.”