Page 36 of Secret Weapon

“You think I didn’t try that?He found me.”

I was about to retort that she should have hidden better—wasn’t she the golden girl?—but then I realised.

“The tracker?You didn’t remove it?”

“You knew about the tracker?”

How the general had drugged us, then slipped miniaturised location devices under our skin?Yes, I knew.Four had found mine, and I’d found his.Tiny kinetic trackers implanted into our backs, electronic spies that sent our locations to the general and probably a whole bunch of other data too.I’d incinerated mine in Vermont.Removing it hadn’t been pretty—I’d been forced to do it in a hurry, which had left me with yet another scar—but the feeling of liberation had been worth the pain.Now it seemed that Ana hadn’t found hers soon enough.

“We all had them.Zacharov was a control freak.”

“A control freak who took my daughter and then expected me to do his bidding if I wanted her back.But even if I’d completed that job, when would it ever have ended?Only with death.His or mine, and I chose his.”

“Where’s your daughter now?”

“With her father.He had a week off work, so they went to visit his parents.Now they’re back, and Sam says Tabby wants to build a fort in the yard.I keep telling myself it’ll be okay, that they won’t make too much mess, but no matter how hard I try to deny it, I know I’ll get home to a half-built moat and Tabby will be begging for a pet alligator.”

I stopped dead.Turned.“Wait… You’re living with her father?As in, you’re in an actual relationship?”

“How we got there is a long story, but yes.Despite the general’s best efforts.”

Was I worried about chatting as we went?Not really.Whoever had attacked Leona was long gone, and if anyone happened to see us, walking and talking looked more natural than skulking around, weapons drawn.This afternoon, the forest felt empty, devoid of human presence.

And yet Ana’s life was far from empty.She had what I’d always thought was impossible for women like us—a family.Had I loved Rad?I thought so.As far as I was capable of love, anyway, but our relationship had been far from conventional.He’d still been Four, and I’d still been Nine, and our lives had still been dictated by a madman.Fraternisation among the team had been banned.Our entire affair had been conducted in secret.

Ana and I reached the spot where we’d found Leona, the ground scuffed and spattered with blood.I hadn’t seen any tiny doggy paw prints, but the forest floor didn’t lend itself to tracks—too many leaves and needles, not enough mud.

“Do you know the dog’s name?”

“I’ll ask Emmy.”

While we waited for a response, we checked out the scene, and I put myself into the mind of the assailant.Zacharov might have had the empathy of a landmine and the warmth of liquid helium, but I had to concede that he’d been a good trainer.Ruthless, but he’d taught us to get the job done by whatever means necessary.And one of his favourite sayings had beenIf you become him, you can destroy him.

What had Leona’s assailant hoped to gain from the encounter?The beating had been brutal but also businesslike.Legs, arms, torso, and I’d noticed a couple of broken fingers too.Plus those cigarette burns… A jilted lover would have gone for something more intimate.Rape, sexual assault, and the burns would have been on her breasts rather than her stomach.Robbery?No.She’d still had her credit card and her jewellery.Those bruises… I’d seen similar from amateur interrogations, carried out by brutes who’d watched too many Hollywood movies but gained little experience at actually extracting information.Pain had its place, sure, but words were more important.Go too far, too fast, and the subject would tell you anything you wanted to hear, whether it was true or not.

What had Leona told her attacker?

Curiosity killed the cat, Dasha.I had Pickle to feed now.I couldn’t afford to fuck up my new life.

“He left this way,” Ana said.

“What do you have?”

“Broken twigs, pointing east.”

A careless egress.The ground got muddier as we followed the attacker’s path, and I compared his shoe size to my own.He wore a twelve, at a guess.A big guy.Distinct treads, new boots not old.

My phone buzzed.

Luca: Colt’s on his way.Can you watch out back and let us know if you see anyone in the trees?

Me: Sure, I’ll keep an eye.

“What is it?”Ana asked.

“Luca wants us to watch the forest.”

“Well, we’re doing that, aren’t we?”

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