Simulated a calculated n.., p.29
Simulated: A Calculated Novel, page 29
Ten seconds later the door blows open. Shards of splintered wood litter the hallway. The door now has a huge crater in it. Not a huge explosion, like Pens, says, but effective.
We climb through the hole into the room. The Sheikh and Müller and a dozen Loyalists are crouched under a large table, surprised at our entrance.
I scan the room for Kai, but he’s not here. My throat feels as bare as the desert after a strong wind. The men’s faces gleam up at me, assessing and examining us like guards at the Pratt. I force that storm away and narrow my gaze. I know who I am.
“We’re here for the list,” I say. “And don’t make another move. Or this whole room is going to look like that door.”
Chapter Sixty-One
I’m in the lion’s den.
A dozen hostile Loyalists all vying for Madame’s master-file and the Blacklist tech suddenly jump up, ready for action.
Noble shouts. “The table!”
Knowing exactly what he means, I wipe my fingers and throw another stone as fast as I can into the center of the room. The table erupts into fragments of debris, knocking the men back to the ground again. Smoke and splinters fill the air.
Regardless, weapons are pulled out and aimed at us within seconds. The few girls, including the one who clung to Kai, shriek and flock to the corner. But Kai is nowhere in sight.
Noble sizes up the room. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Noble nods in my direction. “She’s got enough firepower to take out this whole room.”
He’s bluffing, but I hold up a small stone. The X girls start shrieking.
Müller cocks his head. “Ah, but you’re out numbered.”
“Are we?” Noble motions to the security cameras up on the wall. “We have a whole swat team outside. If we get hurt, this whole building goes down. Go ahead, have a look.” The Sheikh motions for his men to check the visual.
I look around the room, fifteen men are there, three girls. Something isn’t right. My gift is simmering, spinning. The Successor is in this room. I can feel it. But Kai is dominating my thoughts. He’s hurt. I need to find out where they’re holding him. The Sheikh’s girl is staring at me. An image of Kai’s hands sliding against her back in the desert curls in my stomach.
I try to push it away, but I can’t. This is going to be his life now, fighting bad guys, near death injuries, and rescuing helpless girls…it’s what he lives for. Beating the odds and slaying dragons. And yet all I see in this moment is every single video I had to watch of him flirting with her.
Suddenly, I stop. Mind reeling. My phase two simulations are cut up and pasted alongside my meeting with Montego and the surveillance with that girl. She was in every single live stream, listening and watching.
An X girl, whose face I never saw, was in my sims next to Madame. As plain as day. Every movement in sync with Madame’s. Just like every X girl in real life. Just like Ennéa. Our eyes lock onto each other’s again. My sims replay on fast-forward. Kai walked away with her each time. Unscathed. The other men were always beaten…beaten. But she walked away. Just how Madame would have done it.
The Sheikh’s men confirm Noble’s intel. “We’re surrounded.”
Thank God for Veil technology and the PSS team.
“Now, if you give us the holothumb, we’ll cut you a deal.” Noble moves forward, strategically.
“What kind of deal?” Müller says to Noble.
“First give us the holothumb.”
Müller shifts his feet, eyes on me. I know the eyes of a hard man, like King, or his cronies and those in the Pratt. Muller isn’t one of them. He’s a banker, a businessman. He’s looking for a way to win.
But I drown out their conversation. I’m still looking at the girl. The meeting with Montego runs through my mind in slow motion now. He stopped believing me the moment I talked about the Successor. It wasn’t when I talked about the successor but how. I told Montego that he would be his problem. His. Not hers. He stared at me in disbelief until I told him I was the successor. I’m a girl—and that’s when he believed me. Montego didn’t know who it was, but he knew the successor wasn’t a man.
I shake my head, hating myself for not seeing it earlier. Madame would have never handed her empire over to a man.
The story the girl told Kai. 9 lives. A scar. I fracture into pieces. Nine—I was the eighth. Octavia. Elegant and simple. Just like Madame’s codes. She always laid out her plan in the light of day to flaunt her genius.
Ennéa. It’s Greek. Even her name means nine. There’s always something in the name. The girl arranged this meeting right under their noses. She’s setting up the men, getting their money and the plans will be hers. I figured it out—just not early enough.
“You’re too late,” the Sheikh says. “The transaction is done.”
No. My body stiffens. The master-file and Blacklist have been sent out.
“Then it’s worthless. Toss it to me,” Noble shouts, snapping me back.
Müller huffs. “Tell us who you are!”
Müller acts like the leader, but he has no idea he’s a pawn. I answer his question, but I stare at the girl. “A Successor who wants what is hers.” I tilt my head and pitch a rock up in the air and catch it. They understand the threat, and seconds later, the holothumb lands in Noble’s hands.
They believe us. Relief courses through me. We can fix this. Noble pulls off his bag, about to check the holothumb. I step closer to him, keeping my voice low. “The Successor. It’s the X girl.” With my eyes hard and locked onto the girl, I call out. “Where’s the loyalist with Montego’s Blacklist?”
But Müller can’t answer because a loud crack has us all snapping backward. What’s left of the door crashes to the ground. A group of very angry men in old army fatigues flood the room. The radicals from Tunis. The team said they left the city. They knew about this meeting and they’re not happy they weren’t invited.
“Don’t believe a word they say,” growls the radicals’ leader. All the goons’ weapons are pointed at Noble. The leader gestures at the holothumb. My mind spins frantically. This wasn’t a part of the calculation. “There’s no one outside but us. We were promised Blacklist tech and we’ve come to get it.” He lunges toward Noble.
The room erupts into mayhem, and the girl goes running.
Chapter Sixty-Two
Why does everything I do almost get me killed?
Harrison warned us the radicals were furious that they didn’t get the last tech promised to them by Montego. He warned us they were headed our way. I was so distracted by the news of Kai I forgot to tell Noble. He would have factored it into the equation.
From the look on Noble’s face, numbers are tearing through his mind like the running of the bulls in Spain. “Time to use those weapons!”
Something in our frequency makes it clear where I should aim. My grip on the stones tightens. I swipe left and right on two stones, throwing one at the radical leader and the second stone at five more men coming at us. Then I run for cover.
Noble dives forward as a loud bang pops the air, and a bright light flashes. Mr. Ben Slimane is knocked off his feet, his head against the wall.
An explosion of smoke and light slams against them like a bully shoving them to the ground. I grit my teeth—the bombs aren’t strong enough. Why did I ever tell Pens to make them less potent?
Three of the five men rise to their feet, a bit hazy but not taken out. All I want to do is follow the girl, Ennéa, who slipped from the room and into the courtyard in all the confusion.
“She’s getting away!” I shout to Noble. He dashes in her direction, but three radicals tackle him to ground with a thunk, connecting his face to the hard tile floor. Noble shouts at me, but before I hear his warning that someone is behind me, the back of my knees are kicked in and I’m shoved to the ground, cheek against the floor. My eyes lock onto Noble’s, our breath and frequency a wildfire between us. One last stone is in my hand, but Noble shakes his head at me, warning me not to use it yet. He’s right. It would be worthless against so many.
We failed. The Successor is getting away. Kai is going to die. Even if we call Harrison it won’t work in time.
I’m yanked to my feet with my arms pinned behind my back. They’re just as rough with Noble.
“No more games, or you won’t be getting up off the floor next time.” The leader, his face now bloody, spits at us. “Give us our tech or no one gets out of here.”
They pin Noble’s body to the wall and wrangle the holothumb from him.
The Sheikh and Müller stand behind their own thugs, but the radicals have them backed into a corner.
Müller steps out. “We’ve got more where that came from,” he offers, “and we’ve got more funds than you can dream of.”
Noble is calculating something. His frequency stabilizes to an even calm, making even my numbers peek out. Thoughts of coral and lightning flow through my mind, and a quiet comes over me. Numbers erupt out of me, igniting possibilities and equations in every part of the room…I see it. Even in this whole mess of chaos, there is hope—until a radical starts screaming in my ear to hand over the backpack. The voice shatters my numbers, and I clutch my bag. I won’t give it to him. If there’s any hope at all, I need the sim glasses. I bite down and prepare for a beating when his voice is overtaken by shattering glass.
I’m shoved to the floor again and Noble shouts for me to close my eyes. I don’t understand why, but I do. Somewhere, another window is kicked in. A loud explosion assaults my ears, even behind closed eyes, I know the room has turned blinding white. My ears are ringing. The vibrating is also in my stomach, making me feel nauseous. Mayhem is happening all over again. Boots are storming in with heavy thuds and crunches.
Rolling over, I open my eyes. Men in bulletproof Kevlar vests, helmets, and goggles gain the tactical advantage with an overwhelming force. They’re not scrappy fighters like the radicals. These men are trained, marching in with the discipline and strength of Navy SEALs. Tables are breaking, boots are stomping, orders are being shouted, men collapse with thunks to the floor.
The man holding me won’t let go. He’s dragging me out of the room. In the chaos, Noble sees it, and thrusts forward, but a radical grabs him from behind, a weapon trained on his head. My heart skyrockets and adrenaline stabs into me, waking up my numbers for five seconds. Two things course through me: Noble has three seconds to live and one chance of survival. Like clockwork and destiny, the trained man behind Noble spins around, his arm extended, ripping the weapon from the radical and with one hit, knocks him to the ground. A man’s voice I recognize is shouting an order and the man who helped Noble charges after the man holding me, who has let go to flee the scene.
I watch as the trained men subdue the radicals and the Loyalists with precision and strategy, in what seems likes seconds.
The pandemonium slows as more men storm the room, flooding it with weapons and manpower. The leader in the invading team removes his helmet and goggles, his shrewd eyes sweeping over the room and stop on mine. Bai. That familiar smug grin now filled with concern. I exhale. He came. Just when our odds ran out. Relief floods me.
Bai rushes over to me and helps me stand. “You ok?”
I’m shaking with adrenaline. “Kai’s biotag...” My eyes are wild.
“That’s why we’re here. Find him. We’ll take care of this.” Bai’s men are handcuffing Loyalists, waiting orders. “Which one is the Successor?”
“It’s the X girl.”
“I broke a lot of rules coming here. If we’re going to keep this clean, we need confessions.”
Noble walks up to Bai. “Leave that to me.” He passes me the small neural simulator he showed me in the van on the way to the desert, and places it behind my ear. The numbers zipping across his face are full of warning. “Find Kai. I’ll check the holothumb.”
I race out of the room taking the same path as the Successor. My mind snaps, once then twice. But my pulse is staccato, and nothing about my gift is stable. Whole sections of the room are blinking in and out with graphs like broken mosaics. Sound waves or energy waves fluctuate in the air and just like Noble’s voice, I’m calculating them in fractured pieces. I gasp. What is happening?
I need to breathe, focus. I need to find the peace in the storm.
For a brief twenty-two seconds the layout of the compound is clear in my mind. I don’t lose a minute. I jet toward the farthest outbuilding near the gate exit. As I get closer, a sound more horrible than I can imagine fills my ears. Kai’s muffled, guttural scream.
I picture Kai gritting his teeth so he doesn’t show his pain—it’s the sound of an animal walking into a slaughterhouse, a ship about to sink, of sirens in the distance. All the things this world shouldn’t have but are there.
I run forward, searching every room, listening for and blocking out his cries. We weren’t designed for chaos. We weren’t designed for heartache and pain, but they exist and just like Noble said, if we didn’t have something to look up at to find the order in it all, we’d all be swept away.
Kai’s moans are hoarse, but I’m closer now. Then he is silent. Hold on, Kai.
I sneak into the last room on the right. It’s nothing like the Pratt except a lingering feeling that the walls have witnessed unspeakable things. The air holds a brokenness I had hoped never to meet again.
The girl is here. I sense it. She’s with him. I already know her game plan, under the surface my gift is piecing it all together.
I calm my breathing. Two fingertips left, one bomb to go. I grip a small stone in my hand. I won’t let the Successor leave here. I won’t waste it. I need her to be unconscious at least for a moment for what we have planned.
I tiptoe around the poorly lit garage. It smells of motor oil and smoke. My fingertips tingle and I start tapping. The steady rhythm hones my focus. There are no numbers, but a boldness takes over, sweeping away all the chaos. All my thoughts are bent on saving Kai—and putting myself in harm’s way is only a passing thought…maybe this is what Kai feels when he’s out there. How the sacrifice can’t compare with the lives he saves.
Finally, I spot him. He’s tied up, sprawled out on the ground, blood pooled around him. Delirious, but awake. Kai’s breathing is labored. It’s far worse than the last time. He’s holding something to his stomach, blood is everywhere, like they cut him and he’s trying to stop the bleeding himself.
I bend down, placing a hand over his beating heart, like I used to in China, that steady calming rhythm. “I’m here, Kai. Hold on. We’re going to get you help.”
At the sound of my voice, his bloody and bruised face turns to horror. “Jo, get out of here. The Successor, she’s in here…”
I gasp. He said she. He knows it’s her. But I can’t ask more because he fades out again.
A shadow darts across the room toward the exit.
“Don’t move. I know who you are.” I grab my last stone as I turn around and face her. “Show me your hands.”
She cowers, body shaking. “Please help me,” she begs. “Let me go. I need out of here. They’re going to hurt me.”
“I don’t believe you.”
She moves to the door, shielding her body and crying.
“Don’t move,” I say. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
But she’s still backing up. “I’m trying to listen but I’m too scared.” She looks up at me, wild eyed. Eyes I’ve seen before. Did I make a mistake? All I see are the girls that Madame ruined. The ones she stole away and twisted into what she wanted. My head is spinning, and Kai is moaning, trying to speak.
She points at Kai. “I tried to help him,” she claims. “They hurt him, badly. He needs help. Quick. Please help him.”
The chaos in her eyes threatens to sweep me into it. A thousand broken girls. Müller. The Sheikh. King. The Successor. The master-file. They all need to be stopped. Am I wrong about her?
The girl studies me, a glimmer in her eyes, like I believe her. She’s sunk her hook into me, and I’m a goner. “The Sheikh has plans for the whole region,” she whispers. “You have to stop him. I can tell you everything…” Her voice trails as she steps through the open door into the courtyard.
My mind is spinning. I follow after her. I don’t want to hurt her, but I catch a glimpse of her wrist. The burn. The number 9 etched into her skin and the sound in her voice—it’s all wrong. Underneath her begging, it’s icy. My mind clears as everything in me screams her words are false.
“I don’t believe you,” I say. “I’ll give you one last chance to cooperate.” If she is the Successor, she’s planned this moment for months. She’ll never confess, and she wouldn’t have to. Her record is spotless, as white as snow. No one knows who she is. Custody will be a few days then she’ll get out and wreak havoc for twenty years.
I look at Kai on the floor and back to her.
“Your time’s up.” My hands pull out the stone, now oily and bubbling, as I mix the chemicals. Her eyes widen. She leaps into the courtyard, dashing toward an open vehicle. But it’s too late. The stone is in the air. I’m praying it doesn’t miss as I jump back. It explodes at her back. The blast catapults her forward. She crashes to the ground; her eyes are rolling back into her head. Good, I think. I have two minutes.
Bai’s medic storms the garage a second later. He sees me with the girl and hesitates.
“Help Kai!” I scream, rushing over to him. I bend down and hold his hand as the medic moves quickly, assessing Kai, tying tourniquets, and bandaging him up. I touch Kai’s face. I don’t want to leave him. I want to be near him, but the girl...
The medic looks up at me, as if he knows what I’m thinking. “I can stabilize him.”
Nodding, I step away, toward the girl. I won’t let Kai’s work here go to waste.
She’s babbling now, her skin slightly burned. She’s not conscious enough to register anything around her. I walk over and bend down to roll the girl over. Then I open my backpack.
Noble’s plan had better work.
