Page 160 of Coldwire
“What are you doing?” Miz asks as she gets pushed into a line with Kieren and Blare. “What’s—what’s going on?”
“No, I’m not familiar,” Teryn says.
I nod at the team. My friends, who I stay entirely blank toward. “They claimed to be after it but failed to initiate a download. There’s no program, but I figured you’d want the assets nonetheless.”
For a very long moment, I’m convinced that Teryn will see right through me. That she’ll be able to tell the difference between Eirale and Lia, that something in my mannerisms will give up the memories in my head, the sentience lingering at the center of my neural network. I am safe within NileCorp only if they believe me ignorant.
But Teryn must not know about me, nor the true objective of the mission that I was sent on. I realize this when she narrows her eyes, when she’s looking at Kieren instead in an effort to figure out whether I’m telling the truth, because it’s not me she suspects of lying; it’s him. She suspects that he might have fooled me in the process of retrieving the program.
“No, no, no!” Miz is still struggling. “You said it worked. You lied!” She turns to Kieren. “Are you seeing this? I told you she could be NileCorp’s soldier! I told you it was a risk!”
I ignore her. It cuts me in two to keep my gaze even, but I do. Teryn’s attention moves to Miz curiously, and I need Teryn to take it all in, becauseit will matter when she reports back to NileCorp executives.Word for word, Teryn. Note it all down. Record it if you have to.If I’m going to break my best friend’s heart, it better be for good reason. It better earn James Moore’s credence when he reads the report.
“Scarab beetle!” Miz wails. “Scarab beetle!”
“Has she lost her mind?” Teryn mutters.
Miz is making a last-ditch effort to get something out of me, and I cannot give it to her. My eyes twitch, wanting to fill with tears, but Eirale Ward has nothing to do with this, and so I can only observe it blankly.
“Uncuff her,” Teryn says, waving at me. “Take the others.”
The soldiers close in.
“Say something,” Blare mutters, and they’re talking to Kieren, who’s been silent, only silent, since the forces led him out from the house.
I finally dare to look. The moment our eyes meet, the smoke bomb erupts in his hands.
The soldiers call out, frantically trying to maintain order. I am the only one who is not surprised, because I stole the smoke bomb from the Medan soldiers earlier while chatting, and then I slipped it into Kieren’s back pocket just before the kettle shrieked.
I can’t see anything. I feel movement, though, rushing around me, the smoke swirling. Teryn is screaming, asking the forces to mobilize, to expand out—
A warm grip closes over my arm. Before I can lurch into combat, I’ve been pulled with an abrupt movement, my back colliding with a familiar presence.
“Soldier,” Kieren says into my ear. “I pay attention.”
It’s an echo. A familiar set of words—What can I say? I pay attention—and in the time it takes me to remember the zip line, the quick work with the two of us on the very same wavelength, he’s put his knife to the side of my ribs, and he slashes.
I scream out, pain spasming along my torso in furious waves. Kieren releases my arm. I have no time to catch a glimpse of him: he’s gone withthe smoke. Despite the blood pouring from my side, despite the relentless tremor that seizes the entire right side of my torso, I have to stop myself from gasping a laugh—an absurdist titter. With two rapid battle moves, Kieren and I have communicated with each other in code.
The smoke clears enough to show me my immediate surroundings. I spot Teryn, frantic while she gesticulates at her soldiers, and I stagger forward.
“Teryn. Teryn!” I almost topple onto her. “Teryn, please, he stabbed me. Please help me.”
Her face is washboard pale. “Where?” she demands. “This is—I can’t—someone get these cuffs off her!”
She tries to draw away, still searching through the smoke for where Kieren has gone, and I cry out, falling to my knees. Teryn has no choice but to grab me, to swear violently when a soldier finally comes close enough with the magnetic keys, touching them to my cuff for release. I clamp my hand to my side. My fingers return slathered in red.
“Please don’t let me die,” I beg, grasping Teryn’s arm. It smears a scarlet picture across her sleeve, onto her proper white jacket, and it will be her fault if a soldier dies on her watch. A soldier her uncle sent her to watch personally. Even if she doesn’t know why James Moore is so invested in me, she must understand it holds weight. “Teryn, please,please—”
“Get the helicopter!” she yells. “Hurry up!”
“Ma’am, the fugitives,” one of the soldiers says in a rush. “If we don’t secure them, the Medans had cars parked behind the safe house—”
I scream, clutching my wound harder.
“Help, please,” I scream, sounding delirious. “Help me, please, please—”
“Get her in—we’re going,” Teryn commands. “Grab the med bag, now!”
