Page 75 of Sunflower

Callum nodded at George as he stuffed more burger into his mouth.

George set his burger down and pressed his thumb and forefinger against his forehead with a sigh. “Leland was born to a powered family but didn’t develop powers himself. Like most people in his situation, he went into training to join the Agency as a normie. It was the worst thing he could have done.”

Swallowing my mouthful, I felt my eyebrows go up. “How so?”

“Growing up,” George said. “Leland was only surrounded by those powered that had the dream reading ability. His parents, siblings, and his cousins, you know?”

Nibbling on some now lukewarm fries, I nodded, easily following it so far.

“When he joined the Agency, he was suddenly presented with people that had all these other types of powers.” George shook his head sadly. “He got jealous. Why had all these other people received such amazing gifts when his family was stuck withonlydream reading? He saw his family’s ability as a weak power, and here he was, not even able to developthat. The knowledge ate at him from the inside.”

Imagining myself in his shoes, I couldn’t deny that I felt some sympathy for the Agent, but then I remembered how he’d threatened my family. Needless to say, the compassion I felt quickly disappeared.

“He’d only been with the agency for a couple of years when one of our empaths flagged him as a person of concern.” Pushing his plate away, George crossed his arms on the table, took a deep breath, and let it out slowly before he continued. “He’d met up with some like-minded people who had somehow found out about the powered families. Leland started feeding them information about our workers: what they did, where they went, what sort of powers they had, that sort of thing. He was sanctioned on numerous occasions, but nothing changed. When one of our psychic shadows ended up badly injured directly because of his actions, he was court-martialed.”

I felt my stomach sink. That sounded all too familiar. How had George not put the pieces together before now? Why had it taken until now for him to be named?

“I was called as an expert witness, as I’d seen something similar happen overseas,” George explained, unknowingly answering my questions. If this wasn’t the first time he’d come across this sort of thing, then it made a bit more sense why he hadn’t realized who the culprit was this time. “They kept his identity secret until the case was over, so as not to sway any of the jurors or specialists they called in. I only ever got his name, never his picture, because once he was convicted of being an accessory to treason, his whole family disowned him. They went scorched earth, destroying all records of him. No photos of his childhood or as he was growing up remain.”

Fuck. Treason? I guess it made sense, though. If he worked for the government and he was actively trying to hurt or kill those who worked in said government, of course, they’d try him for treason. Hell, I could make an argument that what he was doingwith me was an act of sedition. Trying to get me to act against the authority of the US government? That was sedition, right? How the hell hadn’t he learned his lesson the last time?

“He was sentenced to six years in prison. That would have been… what… twenty years ago now?” George shook his head in astonishment. “How time flies.”

Until now, Callum had been nodding along with what George had been saying. Now he leaned forward and crossed his arms, mirroring George’s body language. “Leland holds you responsible for him being convicted. He fully believes that it was your testimony that caused his dishonorable discharge and how long he was sentenced to prison. He blames you for it all.”

George sighed, a deep sigh from his bones, before wiping his hands down his cheeks. “If that’s true, it’s obvious he hasn’t read the court transcripts. My testimony got his sentencedownto six years. Without it, he would have been serving fifteen.” He shrugged in resignation. “I guess it doesn’t really matter either way. He’d still be out by now, and he would have come after me, regardless. I just wish he hadn’t gone after people I work with. It’s like he’s learned nothing.”

“Sorry I’m late, guys.” A slim woman with a rather distinctive accent that appeared to be in her late twenties with long bottle-blonde hair approached us. Regardless of the cool weather, she was wearing a flowing, vibrantly patterned skirt, long enough to hide what she was wearing on her feet, and a black-and-white checkered, long-sleeved top that was tied in a knot at her waist. A wide-brimmed black felt hat completed her eclectic ensemble. “The day’s been your typical Thanksgiving long-weekend crap-shoot with the in-laws-from-hell. Don’t tell Sav I said that, or she’ll have my tits barbecued. And then on the way here, I got caught on the freeway when some dickhead decided to do a header into the back of a ute and turned it into a carpark.” Without waiting for a response, she pulled a chair from aneighboring table and sat herself down at the end, next to George, and pointed at me. “Who are you?”

Blinking, I looked at Callum. “Um… It’s like she’s speaking English, but I only understood half the words… Help?”

Thankfully, everyone at the table, including the brash woman, burst out laughing.

“Sunflower,” George said, obviously taking pity on how lost I was. It was interesting that he was using the code name he’d gifted me last night, but I’d roll with it. “This is Boomerang. Don’t mind her. She’s just Australian.”

“Ooh, are we using our code names?” She grinned and leaned forward to stage-whisper in my direction, her hand up between her and George. “Forget I said anything about Sav. She doesn’t exist. Everything’s made up and the points don’t matter.”

Okay, I had to admit she was going to be a riot to be around. Once I got a handle on her accent, that was. I grinned back at her. “Hi, Boomerang. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Sunflower. Nice.” With an appraising look, she leaned back to place an elbow on the back of her chair, cocked an eyebrow and looked at George. “He’s fancy. Where’d you find him?”

He rolled his eyes. “Never you mind. We need your help tracing something. You’ve got your tablet?”

She pointedly rolled her eyes right back at George and leaned into a highly amused Callum, their shoulders pressing together in a way that spoke of their obvious friendship. “Do I have my tablet? He calls me out here urgently on a Saturday night when I’d rather be next to my wife, all bundled up and warm, so we could both be sparring with my in-laws instead of leaving her to fight our battles alone, and he asks me if I’ve got my tablet. I mean, really.” Seemingly out of nowhere, she pulled a tablet and placed it on the table, shoving all the plates back without care.

Without complaint, both Callum and George hurried to move things out of her way to avoid anything spilling, giving the distinct impression that she did that sort of thing fairly often.

“What am I reading?” she asked, her focus on powering up the tablet with one hand, while she held out her other, palm up, before curling her fingers in agimmemotion.

“Hair.” George picked up the baggie that held both the hair and my glove. He opened the baggie, and without touching the contents, dumped them on her outstretched palm.

She gripped the glove for less than a second, then looked directly at me. “Well, the owner of this glove is sitting right there.” She pointed in my direction. “But you said hair. Is it in the glove?”

Christ, she was quick; I’d grant that. I nodded. “It was placed in my palm and the glove was turned inside out so I wouldn’t lose any.”

“Okay.” She nodded in understanding. “Shouldn’t take too long. Please hold.” Frowning at her tablet, she looked this way and that, pinching at the screen of her tablet several times before she gave up with a huff. “I’m not getting a signal. Why am I not getting a signal? This place has Wi-Fi, right? Maybe my data’s cactus.”

“Crap,” I said, looking nervously at the jammer. “We forgot about the bug. Do we just turn the jammer off, or…?”

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