Page 33 of Trained

Chapter 10

I shower and dry my hair, but there are no fresh clothes in my size or makeup on board.

“It’s fine,” Anton says. “I want you to look like you just survived a kidnapping attempt.”

They set me up with a laptop and sit me in the passenger cabin. Anton has me read the script and recite it out loud three times before he lets me record.

I should be furious about the lie he’s making me tell, but this is nothing new. I’ve practiced for this moment for six months. Only now I know I’m not crazy for holding onto hope. In the end, I was right.

Colette was too: things are going to change. I can stay strong.

Sorry it’s been so long.

After eight months, it’s the first thing he said to me. There was no time to tell him that I don’t blame him for not coming sooner. I understand completely: he needed a plan. The last time we challenged Anton, we were reacting to his moves, trying to position ourselves to succeed but always playing defense. Winning means figuring out how to stay on offense, and breaking Anton one branch at a time. If Ingram came back from nearly dying only to fail once more… it would have been better if Anton had killed him the first time around.

And if we succeed, it will have been worth the wait.

“Whenever you’re ready, Kate,” Anton says.

I summon up the sense of relief I’ll feel when he’s dead and open my eyes.

“This is Kate Atwood, and I’m okay. I wanted to send this out as soon as possible to let everyone know that I’m safe and unharmed. As most of you know, I survived an attempt on my life earlier today. Three men who have been my personal guardians were killed trying to protect me. I owe my life to the amazing members of my security team, who quickly found me before I was harmed. Due to the ongoing investigation, I’m not supposed to divulge information about what happened, but the world deserves to know the truth: this attack was carried out by Anarchy, Inc.”

If not for the last sixth months of spewing bullshit, I’m not sure I could do this. Now it’s as routine as making coffee in the morning. Playing this twisted version of Kate Atwood has become ingrained.

“They intended to execute me live on camera because they are extremists and they hate me for telling the world the truth. This was an attack not just on me, but everyone who refuses to accept the lies that these terrorists have spread.”

Anton may think this is a smart move, and maybe it is — but for once he’s on the defensive. He’s reacting to what Ingram did. This wasn’t in his plans, and he can’t even make a smart move because he has no idea what’s coming next. I nearly broke out laughing when he ruined his knuckles punching that car door. He’s losing and he knows it.

“But I won’t be silenced,” I continue. “I will be back on the air soon and I will bring you the same expert analysis you’ve come to trust from me. I’m not afraid of Anarchy, Inc., and you shouldn’t be either. They’re murdering cowards, not heroes, and that’s not what we stand for. Together, we will stop them — the truth will stop them. Thank you all. I love you and I’ll see you soon.”

I stare at the camera until its LED goes off and Anton takes away the laptop. Once it’s off, I effect a deep, relieved sigh.

“Can I be alone now?” I ask, shutting my eyes and lying back. “I’m still… it’s too hard right now. I…”

“Kate, the authorities will want to talk to you. You need to be ready to feed them the right story.”

I nod.

“Yes, sir. I will be. I promise.”

He turns on a television to LPN; one of our helicopters hovers over Vinegar Hill, broadcasting live coverage. I have never seen so many police cars in one place in my life. They’re obviously keeping the reporters pretty far back, but the chyron reads, AT LEAST TWENTY DEAD IN BROOKLYN.

Will Anton be able to hide that these were his mercenaries? Will he be able to kill the investigation into what happened?

If I were Ingram, I’d want to keep Anton off-balance — I’d want to throw up obstructions. It probably won’t be easy to escape being connected to the shooting if he’s also trying to avoid targeted attacks from Ingram.

“Good. Take her to her cell,” he says to Nick.

—

Hours of marinating in pure adrenaline leave me beyond exhausted. The jet’s holding cell consists of a hard, linoleum floor and nothing else, but I lie right down and curl into a ball. I want to sleep, but they’re watching me. I have to stay up and pretend to be traumatized. It wouldn’t be hard for me to cry a little, although they’ll be tears of joy.

Ingram is alive! No matter how many times I’ve thought it in the last few hours, it’s still hard to believe it’s real. It’s too good to be true. Though it likely would have been impossible, I wish he could have killed Anton today, and taken me home with him once and for all. But, if he doesn’t remove my chips first, I’ll die. We have to be patient. Except, what happens if Anton refuses to let me out of his sight? What if Ingram can’t reach me again? Anton’s definitely going to keep a tighter lid, probably double my guard.

I have to trust that Ingram knew that when he chose to take me today. It was part of his plan, there’s no doubt.

Maybe it’s for the best that he didn’t tell me more. I’ve learned to put on a show these past six months, but I’m not exactly a trained actor. What if I fuck up and give something away? But I suppose if Ingram trusts me enough to keep secret that he’s alive…

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