Page 19 of Knight Moves

Kira sipped what looked like tea and regarded Frankie and me. “You guys seem really friendly. Do you know each other?”

“We do,” Frankie said, beaming. “We all go to same high school in DC.”

Bo leaned forward. “Wow. Must be one heck of a high school. Three nominees from one location. How many more of us do you think there’ll be?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know. I thought there would be a lot of us.”

Jax snorted, and I realized the earbuds were only a defense against unwanted conversation. I’d done it before myself. He’d been listening the whole time.

“You guys don’t know anything. This is highly specialized training. It takes a lot to be invited to something like this. I’m surprised they found seven of us to compete.”

I wondered if he was right, and if he was, how did he know that?

“We have one more bunk in our room that hasn’t been taken yet,” Kira pointed out. “It has sheets, blankets, and towels on it. It could be eight.”

“Interesting,” Wally said. “Four girls, four guys.”

I looked at Jax. “You said compete. Are we competing against each other?”

“What do you think, Red?”

“First, my name is Angel, not Red. Second, I think we’re competing against ourselves and a set of standards developed by the intelligence agencies for this kind of work.”

“Wrong,” Jax said. “They look for whoever rises to the top in the group. Sometimes, if no one rises, they fail the entire class.”

Bo leaned forward on the table, frowning and asking the same question I’d had. “Exactly how do you know that?”

“I have my sources. Spy school, remember?”

Kira stood up. “Well, it’s been real, but I’m done here. I’m going to go look around.”

“Why don’t you wait for us to finish, Kira?” Frankie said. “Angel and I will go with you.”

She shook her blonde hair. “Thanks, but I prefer to do my investigations solo.”

Frankie looked crestfallen but pasted a smile on her face anyway. “Sure. See you back in the room.”

One by one, everyone left the cafeteria until it was just Wally, Frankie, and me. Wally took Kira’s vacated chair and put his elbows on the table, facing us. He looked upset, so I asked him what was up.

“Did you see those guys? All of them look buff except for Mike. But at least he’s skinny. I bet he can do a push-up or two.”

“Wally, I told you, this is not boot camp,” I said.

“So you say, but did you expect to encounter an active-shooter scenario the first two minutes after we arrived on campus?”

“No,” I admitted.

“Exactly. Those guys at least tried to take down the attacker. I threw a cake cutter.”

“Mr. Donovan said your aim was pretty good.”

“Not helping, Angel.” He took off his glasses and polished them using his shirt.

I pushed my tray to the side. “Frankie, what’s your first impression of our fellow nominees?”

Frankie finished swallowing her bite of sandwich and took a sip of water. “Honestly? I think they’re all cool. Everyone will have a lot to offer to the experience.”

I rolled my eyes. “Do you always have to be so positive about everything? What if Jax is right and we end up competing against each other?”

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