Page 122 of Crimson Flames

“Ditto,” Cillian murmurs beside me. “That’s not right.”

“Are they capable of being saved at this point?” Havoc asks, not really looking for an answer. No one gives him one as we stare at the exercise playing on the screen.

They are given orders which are followed without thought. You can see they hardly have time to process the directions before their bodies move exactly as they are told. Like little puppets. Or dolls.

Just like Ronan calls Nessa his little doll.

Nausea churns in my stomach, threatening to overflow as I picture Ronan having control over my mother in the same way he has taken control of these kids. My hand finds hers and she squeezes, making me think her mind is creating the same images in her head as I have.

“Mom,” I say warily, but she shakes her head.

Glancing back, I see Dr. K holding a hand over her mouth in shock. That’s when I know to be worried.

“Can we still save them?” I ask her. When her eyes connect with mine, I already know the truth.

Silently, she shakes her head. “This level of brainwashing would take years to undo, if we even could. This is far beyond my level of expertise. It could be possible, but I will need to reach out in the field and find someone who has experience.”

Dread seems to consume the room as Evie pulls out a computer of her own. “Who do you know that could undo this?”

Soon, everyone has a computer or some sort of device as we try to think through this mission. Ronan said this would be impossible, taunted us with how to find them, and now we can see that saving them is going to take nothing short of a miracle.

While I believe in these people because I was once saved, this is something so much greater. I want to help these kids, but I have a bad feeling about what we’re about to get ourselves into.

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Another week of planning and everyone decided it was time to make our move. When Lev got word that the teenagers would be sold off within the next month, Evie and Nessa said we were going to make our move.

Dr. K helped set up a place where the survivors will be able to go to be deprogrammed. She was able to find a specialist in the field who agreed to see the kids through treatment, no matter how long it took.

I, however, have a horrible feeling about all of this. Ronan told us where to go. He baited us.

And we’re all aware that we are walking directly into a trap. I should want to be on the front lines with Nessa. I should want to protect and defend like I’ve done so many times, but admittedly, I’m just scared.

“Misha, are you okay?” Boris asks me quietly as our large van pulls up just outside of the security of the orphanage. I won’t lie to him. I won’t lie to any of them.

“Not really.” I shrug. Boris nods his head, keeping his words just between us.

“It is okay if you wish to stay back today. You have the trackers to watch, and Lev can always use backup in the van. Besides, you know it would make your mother more than happy to have you out of harm’s way.”

Blowing out a breath, I nod in agreement. It makes me sick to stay back, but it would be worse if I went and ended up being a distraction. “Yeah, okay.”

Boris wraps an arm around me and pulls me close for a side hug. I return it, leaning my head on his shoulder and drawing a little comfort from his strength. When we break apart, something he always lets me lead, I feel a little bit better.

“Thanks, Pops.”

He ruffles my hair, smiling at me. “I will always have your back. Now, I think it is time to get this over with so that we can go get some ice cream.”

“Not toothpaste ice cream, right?” I say with a disgusted face as I remember Cillian having not one, not two, but three bowls of the stuff last night.

Boris’ nose wrinkles in disgust. “Definitely not.”

The van comes to a stop and we get out to meet everyone. Lev is inside his little work zone in the back, surveillance pulled up already while he types away.

Rhea is with him, her headphones on. The light for Bluetooth connection is blinking, letting me know it’s just for show and that she only has them so no one talks to her.

I chuckle under my breath, climbing into the van and pulling up the extra seat. Boris is informing everyone that I’ll be hanging back, which has Rhea removing her headphones.

“Let me go in his place,” she offers, jumping down from the car and walking over to the group. A few of them exchange looks, but eventually they agree.

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