Page 13 of Resist

And then, a flash of white-blue light shined upward from the little black box and formed a hologram. The woman was older, clearly in her mid-seventies, with long silver hair she had tamed in a braid that rested over her right shoulder. I recognized her immediately.

Sasha De’vor, leader of the Free People of the West and South—regions of the UFA before Raúl invaded and took over in one of the most successful coups in recorded history. Sasha was the head of the rebellion, and the ass I had to kiss to get some semblance of support to go on this whacked mission in the first place. For all intents and purposes, she was my boss, but she needed me. She needed me to help garner favor against Raúl and motivate the people of Telvia to rebel against him. She needed mebig time.

But I needed her too.

Because without her, there was no way in hell I was going to save my brother before my dad or the Telvian Council had him executed for his crimes of helping me escape…twice.

“Good evening, child.”

I turned to face her, my feet shoulder width apart. “Hi, Sasha.”

“I am told that you both survived.”

“Yes. Wes got hurt, but the medic said he’ll be fine. They’re working on him right now.”

“Good. I may not have agreed with this mission of yours, but I am happy to hear that you both made it through.”

I stayed quiet. I knew she was pissed. When I asked for this mission, she rejected it immediately. But when it became clear I was going to do it whether she liked it or not, she reluctantly agreed. Part of me was still super confused about why she was willing to go along with it, but another part of me suspected she needed to retain the illusion of control over me.

The truth was, since day one of my arrival at the rebel camp, I had been a bit of a loose cannon. Running off, convincing Dissenters to help me break command, and so on. And when it all went to hell in a handbasket, we agreed I would help her gain more support for the rebellion, but only if she helped me save my brother. We had each other by the proverbial balls and, in a super weird way, we were both playing this constant game of testing out the limits of control we had over one another. Like I said…it was weird.

The blue light of the hologram flickered. “What information were you able to gather?”

I blew out a breath. “I didn’t get a good look at it. But he’s there. You were right. He’s at Bellfire Tower.”

She was silent for a moment, a grim look on her face before she gave one curt nod. “I’m sorry, child.”

I looked away from her. I knew she already knew he was there, but I had been hanging on to hope that they had placed him someplace else. Never in a million years did I think that Belinda would allow her son—my brother and the First Son of Telvia—tobe thrown into the shadows of Bellfire Tower. I had never seen it, but I heard rumors. Rumors of—

I shook my head. I didn’t want to go there right now, to let my brain play in that torturous playground. I sniffed and looked back at her.

“Will you proceed with your plan?”

My gaze hardened. “Yes.”

She cleared her throat before rolling her shoulders back. “I think you need to reconsider.”

“I’m doing this, Sasha. We had a deal.” I replied, trying so hard to maintain control of my temper. “You want your rebellion and I want my brother.”

Silence fell between us. I could just hear the wheels in her head turning before she clucked her tongue and sighed. “Very well. Were you able to retrieve any data from the Telvian computer?”

I nodded, pulling out the thumb drive and holding it out.

“Good. Be sure to deliver it to Camp Butte’s general tonight before you go to bed. We’ll discuss everything further when you make it back to Fort Warren.”

I nodded again, tucking the device back into my pocket.

“Goodnight, child. Get some rest.”

The light flickered and the hologram disappeared.

9: Weirder

The following morning, after a quick ration of something this place calledcream of wheat, we were back in the Blackhawk. Wes was awake, but heavily medicated for the pain. As a result, he spent much of the ride gazing out the window, silent as the dead.

Apparently, his surgery went well. The bullet was easily removed, missed all the important stuff in his body, and he was stitched up. He was low on blood though, so a unit was ordered for him. I asked him earlier if he was in pain, but all I got was a macho grunt and a shake of the head to indicateno. I called BS on that one, but I wasn’t going to argue with him about it. I figured let him have his tough-guy exterior. It was the least I could do for him since he helped me…and against his parents’ wishes, might I add.

That was going to be a thing, no doubt about it.

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