Code, p.5
Code, page 5
Rhett’s face popped up immediately, like he’d been waiting for the call. Guilt pulled at Zen’s conscience for not being there for Ava.
On the projection, Rhett sat in a sleek, black leather chair. When Rhett shifted, Zen glimpsed the inside of a familiar shiny, polished glider, with wood trim on the dashboard.
Zeke.
“Tell me you’re with Ava.” Rhett sounded desperate, his amber eyes glinting in the reflection of the sun.
“I’m sorry. I’m not, but I’m on my way. I promise.”
A heavy sigh filtered through Zen’s earpiece.
Rhett dipped his head and peered up. “I know you’re with Chang. I know about the meeting. It must be important.”
“You have no idea, Rhett.” Zen rolled his aching shoulders. “I’ll fill you in as soon as I can, but I’ll be leaving shortly.”
“You take care of what you need to do. I’m on my way with a team. Everyone is safe at the mountain base. Marissa is doing a great job. Jo has told me there’s been no sign of ISAN.”
“That’s good. They’re off our backs. Now, when you get there, don’t go in without me. Where’s Cleo? She’s not with you, right?”
Rhett jerked to the side like someone had pushed him. Cleo’s face appeared as she tucked strands of her red hair. Zen burned with rage. Why was his daughter with Rhett?
“You can’t tell me what to do.” Cleo’s voice was level, but her eyes darkened. “I’m an adult. I’m not sitting around while my friends are out there risking their lives. If I were a boy, you would want me to join you.”
Zen shook his head. So stubborn. So much like her mother it scared him. They even had the same fiery red hair and sky-blue eyes.
Zen wanted to scold her, but he had to face the fact she wasn’t a child. She had practically raised herself. He’d had no idea how to raise a child on his own. He’d tried his best, but felt like he failed to be a good father at times.
All he had ever wanted to do was protect her from this wretched world, especially from ISAN. So he’d dosed her with CH20, the same formula in the protein drink the ISAN girls drank every day to dampen their abilities.
Yes, it was a horrible thing to do, but he’d had no choice. Cleo was only five years old when she’d first manifested her gift. No one knew of her powers, not even her mother. No one knew what he had done, or continued to do.
Zen clutched a hand to his heart. One day he wouldn’t be around to protect his little girl. With their lifestyle, his death might be sooner than he’d hoped. So he let his shield down.
“You’re right, Cleo. I can’t tell you what to do. You are your own person.”
Cleo blinked in surprise, and her face lit up. “Okay, Papa. Thank you. I’ll make you proud. Be careful. See you soon.”
Something inside Zen crumbled. She hadn’t called him Papa since her mother had died. Zen smiled, his words coming out not sounding like his own. Softer. Warmer.
“I’m already proud of you, princess.”
She rubbed at her eyes and pressed her quivering lips together. “I love you, Papa.”
“I love you, too.” He shut his chip off and placed a hand to his face.
How long had it been since he uttered those three simple words to her? He didn’t know. It shouldn’t have been like that.
This war had taken a toll on everyone, and not just physically. It had not only taken lives, but innocence. In their fight for justice, they had forgotten to take time to breathe, to spend time with families. They had forgotten to live.
ISAN had to be brought down so the girls like Cleo could be free.
When Martinez and Jones stepped out of the meeting room, their pale faces drawn, they seemed to have aged ten years. Chang came out with sweat beaded on her forehead, but her smile said everything was resolved.
Everyone followed her to the Verlot’s private room, where he was recovering. It didn’t take long for the operation, and with the high-tech equipment available, he wouldn’t even have a scar.
Too bad. He should be marked to remind him of the monster he was.
“The bullet is out. He’ll be just fine,” said a doctor with no nametag. Like the two nurses, he had a cloth mask covering his entire face, except for his eyes. They weren’t hiding their identities from Chang, but from everyone else.
“Thank you.” Chang gave him a nod. She waited by a dented file cabinet and a scratched up wooden desk with no chair. “I’ll be in touch soon. If you don’t need to do anything else, you and the nurses may see yourselves out.”
The doctor and the two nurses scurried away as if they couldn’t get out of there fast enough.
“What do we do with that monster?” Martinez gripped the monitor tube and snarled.
What if Martinez pulled it out? Zen reached out to stop her, but lowered his hand when Martinez let go of the tube.
“Nothing for now.” Chang took off her cloak and draped it over her arm. “When he wakes up, he’ll have to answer for his crimes.” Chang cocked her head to the side, beckoning Vince.
Vince opened the last file drawer and took out four circular metal devices that looked like handcuffs. If Verlot tugged hard enough, the device would shock him.
After Vince clipped those to Verlot’s wrists and ankles, he closed the thick see-through medical hub door. “He’s all yours, madam. Do your worst.”
“Vince,” Chang said. “Please escort Counselor Martinez and Jones back to their gliders. Frank and Zen will join you momentarily.”
Vince gave a curt nod, stepped over a raised cracked tile, and backed away to the door.
Zen had sworn he wouldn’t ask, but he had to know. “Councilor Chang, do you know the assassin who shot Verlot? Are you in contact with ANS?”
Zen’s rebels played mostly by the rules, but ANS didn’t. They’d even tried to kill Ava, thinking she would never leave ISAN. Chang must be desperate, especially after Verlot’s assassination attempt. He wouldn’t put it past her to reach out to ANS.
She gave Zen a wry smile. “Zen, thank you so much for what you have done today.”
There was Zen’s answer. He didn’t know if he should respect her even more, or be afraid of her.
Chapter Eight — Mr. Novak
Ava
I pushed myself across the cold tile floor to the rug with wobbly knees and elbows. After seizing the edge of the mattress with trembling hands, I swung one leg over and sat.
The effort made my forehead bead with sweat and left me breathless. The pain dissipated and my muscles loosened.
Mind—focused.
Pride—damaged.
Anger—searing like never before.
Revenge—my new name.
Rage consumed me. I thought about the many different ways I could kill my brother.
Running my hand along my arm, my chest, and my neck, I searched for anything out of place, anything bumpy, but of course the device wouldn’t be an easy find. Gene had pressed a controller to zap me with electrical current. I’d felt as though I burned from the inside out. Worse, I hadn’t been able to move. I couldn’t let it happen again.
Something slid out of the wall across the bed. A thin metal platform. A bedside table of some sort? Meal time. Then click ... click ... click went the heels. The sound of Mr. Novak.
My pulse raced, my mind reeled in all directions. Alone. No one could help me.
Mr. Novak entered with a tray in his hands. The door closed behind him, blending with the wall. I sucked in a breath, the reaction I always had when I saw him alone.
The aroma of roasted chicken with rosemary, garlic, and honey hit me first and I greedily inhaled. The seasoning reminded me of my mom—it was the same she had used. I refused to see what else he had brought.
Nothing had changed about him. Polished. Refined. Like he was going to a business meeting with his gray tailored suit and tie. Not a hair out of place on his sleek, dark head. He was even quite handsome, I realized as I boldly stared at him, taking in every inch of his sharp features.
What had happened to make him such a monster?
I held up my head high. “Come to kill me?”
He placed the tray on the metal table next to the bed that had popped out of the wall.
“Why would I do that?” His tone was smooth and warm, unlike the dangerous vitality in his dark eyes and in his ISAN resting stance—feet apart with hands behind his back.
“What do you want?” I flexed and unflexed my fingers, working my muscles to get back to full strength. I was astounded by how quickly my body had recovered from the torture.
“Why would I want to hurt you, Ava? I want to help you.” He unbuttoned his suit jacket, revealing a black and blue pin-striped dress shirt underneath.
“You want to help me?” I scoffed and pushed off the bed, my feet warm on the rug. I stood dangerously close to Novak. He smelled like lavender and mint. “Why? I know everything. The protein drinks. How you took our memories, or at least tried to take mine. Killing our parents and experimenting on them. Turning us into killing machines. I’m sure there are other things I’m missing.”
“You’re wrong about everything.” His tone was nonchalant.
I wrung my fingers on the soft comforter, close to losing my level head. How do you communicate with a lunatic?
“Explain,” I said.
He paced toward the chair in the corner, his hands inside his pockets, his back to me. “You don’t remember everything. I might not have been successful for the latter part of your life, but your childhood memories are lost. You don’t even know what your father looks like. You can’t remember that this ...” He extended his arms and faced me. “This remarkable place was your home. Is still your home.”
“What?” Stunned, I couldn’t get my tongue to form words.
“Yes. You lived here with your parents.”
“I don’t believe you ... you ... you manipulating beast.”
Novak ran a hand down his face and stretched his neck from side to side. “Ava. Watch your words. Lydia taught you better manners than that.”
Shuddering, I almost knocked the tray. Steady, Ava. Get more information. Your life depends on it. I lowered my eyes to my expensive pj’s, pretending to be ashamed, and looked back up with a newly calm expression.
“Sorry. You’re right. I should know better.”
His eyes widened a little, then narrowed with suspicion. “As I was saying, this was your home until it was time for you to leave with your mother.”
In one of my dreams when my mother and father had argued, I’d been in a lab. And in other dreams when my father had read me my favorite book, he’d smelled like ... like this room. Sterile.
I compared his words to my fragments of memory, trying not to fall apart. “You faked my mother’s death. How?”
“ISAN had been watching you your whole life.” He picked up the doll and sat in the chair. “We’d been waiting for an opportunity as soon as you turned thirteen. When you left your mother that morning, we took action. You were young and callow. You believed everything the social worker told you. Your mother was brought back here, her home, and you were taken to a foster home of my choosing. I made sure to pick a family that wouldn’t treat you well.”
“Why?” I snarled.
“It’s simple, Ava. You had such a pathetically weak heart. Your emotions were all over the place. You would have been useless as an assassin. I needed a killing machine. You needed something to fight for—and to fight against.”
I shook my head. “I can’t believe you’re saying this.”
He continued, “Had you killed your foster father, I would have taken you straight to ISAN, but instead I had brought you here. That was when you met your brother. I wanted to see what you were both capable of. We put you both under rigorous conditions and training. You don’t remember, do you?”
When I didn’t say anything, he went on. “I trained you and your brother together. I prepared you to be a fighter before you were sent to juvie, but I also took those memories away. It seems I was pretty successful.”
“Why go to all that trouble? You had me under your control.”
He rose and tossed my doll to the chair. “We had our protocol. I’m not the only person running ISAN, but you already know that, don’t you? You see Ava, I’m not going to kill you. You’re—”
“You gave me HelixB88.” The words rushed out of me as if he’d hurt my feelings, and I pounded a fist on the mattress. “You tried to kill Brooke.” I remembered Brooke was dead. Gene had killed her.
My chest felt like cement—heavy and hard. My throat like a rock—blocking my air.
His nostrils flared. “You needed to remember who was in control, so Brooke had to be disposed of. Tamara, on the other hand ... I didn’t know she had it in her. She surprised me. Perhaps I should have studied her more.”
“Do you hear yourself? They’re people, not things.”
He let out an irritated sigh. “See what I mean? You feel too much. You’re not seeing the bigger picture. As for you, I gave you HelixB88 as a warning. Only because I knew you could fight it. Your body always prevails. Always. Anything given to you, you’ve bounced back. You’re practically indestructible.”
He came closer and I climbed on the bed. Realizing I didn’t want him near me, he halted at the center of the room.
“You and your brother have so much in common, so much strength, so much endurance,” he said. “You’re both remarkable. And yet you each have a unique power the other one doesn’t have.” His whole face lit up with something like pride. “Yes, you were conceived, but your father made you. You were named Ava for a reason, just like your brother’s name has a purpose. Gene. Genetically Enhanced Neo Entity. Ava stands for Acquired Viral Advancement. You were engineered by a vision. Can you imagine if we had soldiers with your talents? ISAN would not only conquer our nation, but the world.”
I shifted far back to the mattress, near the tray. I didn’t want to hear what this psycho had to say anymore.
Novak loosened his tie as if he needed more air, his dark eyes never leaving mine. “You were doing so well in ISAN. Only the memories I wanted you to have remained intact. Your drive. Your ability to lead. So perfect. But then you allowed yourself to have such unnecessary emotion, and then you got weak.” He paused with a shuddering breath. “Everything went spiraling down when they kidnapped you. It was my fault. I had too much hope and faith in you. I thought without your memories you would pick ISAN over that ... boy. Now you’re back, and I have to fix you again.”
Fix me? Icy chills racked my torso.
I didn’t want to talk about me anymore. He spoke as if I were his project. I needed to shift the subject to something else. Anything. So I said the first thing that popped in my head.
“What about Justine, your daughter? Why not fix her?”
The crease on his forehead deepened and his voice softened. “You know about that? Of course you do. Justine told you, didn’t she? Well, that was a mistake.”
Since he answered so freely, I thought to ask about Naomi.
“What about my friend? Where is she?”
He peered down at his fingernails, and then regarded me again. “Oh, that friend. Don’t worry. She’s fine.”
“What is your definition of fine?”
“Locked up for now. Whether she lives or dies is up to you. Your actions determine her fate.”
“Where’s my mother? I want to see her.” I brought my knees to my chest, feeling sick to my stomach, my courage wavering. I might not get out this time.
He came closer and stood at the edge of the bed, still keeping his distance. “In good time. I promise, pumpkin. She has missed you very much. I showed her pictures of you and shared your progress every step of the way.”
“Don’t call me pumpkin,” I seethed. “Who told you about that?”
“Your father, who else? We’re longtime friends. He’s done so much for our cause. I’m sorry he had to be absent. He has so much important work to accomplish.”
“I want to see him,” I said.
“You will, but first you need to eat. You’ll need your strength. Your friends will be here soon.”
At the thought of my friends, I went rigid and brought my fingers back to the buttons. “What are you going to do when they come?”
He gave me a sidelong glance. “What would you like me to do with them? You have several options. One, I could have them killed. Two, put them in a cell. Three, send them on a wild-goose chase. They wouldn’t be here to help you, but at least they might be safe, though I can’t guarantee that.”
I peered down and focused on my toes. I hated him. I want to claw at his triumphant grin. I want him to feel all the pain and agony he had caused others. Even hell would be too good for him.
“Well, what’s it going to be?” He tapped at his empty wrist.
No dirt under his manicured nails. No calluses. It sickened me. While the rebels scrambled for food and supplies to help others, he lived in luxury and destroyed lives.
Fury crept up again and all my ferocity poured through. “Why did you bomb the rebel base? Why did you kill all those people?”
I wanted to fall on my knees and weep for my friends. Saying it out loud made it real ... so real. I yanked the comforter tight around me and squeezed. It took all of my will not to break down.
He strained his eyes and tilted his head. “Why do you ask such an obvious question?” He peered up to the flat low ceiling, and then back at me. “It was either them or us. They took you. They took Gene. We had to fight back. This is war. Don’t think Zen wouldn’t have done the same if he had the opportunity to land the blow on us. Everything I did was for you, pumpkin.”
I grinded my teeth, my jaw twitching. “I told you not to call me that.”
“Such temper.” He shook his head, disappointed. “You must learn to control your emotions. So what’s it going to be?”
As much as I wanted my friends to help me escape, I wouldn’t put them in danger. Novak gave no empty threats. He would make them suffer, even kill them in front of me. He would make me watch.
