Chapter 26
Kenna led Cecily through the house, explaining that her father had called early for the solstice and wished to chat over holo. The young woman trudged down the hall in blue flannel pajama bottoms and a matching hoodie, her unbrushed hair corralled into a messy bun. Her sock feet whacked against the wooden floorboards. Each step creaked noisily.
Kenna quietly locked the door behind her.
After the Cecily had settled into a conversation with her father, Mòr and her sisters locked themselves in a back bedroom, each armed with a sidearm and a rifle.
Connell, Dixon, and Lila checked their own weapons, and the group padded down the corridor toward Cecily’s room, faces grim.
A thousand images flooded Lila’s mind, images of how their confrontation might go wrong. Camille had years of experience with the house and the compound, learning every exit, every nook, and every hiding place. In a chase, the soldier would easily best her and Dixon.
Perhaps she already had.
“Wait here,” Connell told Lila under his breath. “If she comes out before I secure the hallway, tranq her.”
Lila crouched in the middle of the corridor while Connell locked the rest of the bedrooms, wincing every time a lock snicked too loudly or the keys rattled against one another in his grip. She extended her gun and fixed her eyes along the sight, finger riding the trigger, just in case Camille heard their movements and got spooked.
The door didn’t open.
Connell finally rapped sharply upon it with one knuckle, Dixon at his side. The pair did not wait for an answer. They both plunged into the room, weapons drawn.
A woman murmured in reply. Furniture scraped against the floor.
Lila’s arms grew heavy from waiting.
“We’re coming out,” Connell barked at last. “Me first.”
Gun dangling by his thigh, he emerged from the room, leading Camille from Cecily’s room. She’d either changed or been allowed to change into a pair of jeans, a sweater, and sturdy brown boots. She eyed Lila’s tranq gun as she passed through the doorway. “You too?”
Lila nodded. “If you run, I will shoot you. If you move too quickly, I will shoot you. If you call out, I will shoot you. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“Good. You might believe that getting shot with a tranq isn’t a big deal, but you’d be wrong. As long as your heart is strong, you should wake up in eight to ten hours, but the catch is that you’ll wish you hadn’t.”
“My heart is strong. You can shoot me if you wish, but you’ll waste a tranq in the process. I don’t have any intentions of running, and I’m unarmed.”
“I frisked her myself,” Connell said. “She’s unarmed and has agreed to come quietly. A little too quietly, if you ask me. Let’s get to the basement before she changes her mind.”
Camille stiffened. “No, don’t take me to the basement. Ask your questions here. I won’t try to get away. I promise. I’ll speak with you as long as you wish.”
“You’re in no position to negotiate terms. We’ll talk in the basement. I won’t give you a chance to run away on my watch.”
She paled. Her eyes swept to Lila. “Please, don’t let him do this. I’m begging you. You have to let me stay in this cabin. I will tell you whatever you wish to know. Just let me stay here.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s not safe out there.”
“Not safe for whom?”
“For any of us.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m not who you think I am. You think I’m a mole, but I’m not.”
Lila narrowed her eyes. “You’re an Italian soldier, sending secret communications back home to your commanders. How does that not make you a mole?”
Camille dropped her eyes to the ground. “I don’t even know how to answer that anymore.”
“Try.”
“There is another. He’s the one you seek. He’s the one you should be worried about.”
Connell lifted his tranq. “We’ll find him. But every second you spend unsecured on this compound is a risk to the people I love, so move. Now.”
“I’d never hurt anyone in this house.”
“Pardon me for not believing a word that comes out of your mouth.” The purplecoat nodded to Lila. “I’ll lead. You two back me up.”
“It’s not the basement I fear, but him. It’s not me that I worry about, but you. All of you. When he sees me under guard, he’s going to come for me, and he’ll do whatever it takes to get me back or shut me up. He’ll end anyone who stands in the way.”
“My people can handle it,” Connell said.
“You can’t handle every bullet.”
Lila wavered. “Who is the person you fear?”
“My handler. If he shoots me, you’ll never find him, and you’ll never get the information you seek.”
“Lila found you. She can find him too.”
“This isn’t time for games,” Camille snapped, her sweet veneer tossed away. “Damn it, I’m trying to help you.”
“If she dies, then we have nothing,” Lila pointed out.
Connell shuffled his boots impatiently. “The way I figure it, her handler has no idea we’ve found her yet, but waiting gives him time to figure it out and make a plan. The oracle gave me orders, and I intend to follow them.” He withdrew his palm from his coat pocket and tapped upon the screen. “Reinforcements will arrive soon, and I’ve warned monitoring to keep a lookout for her friend.”
“He’s not my friend,” Camille said. “And he’ll know. He always knows.”
“That’s why I’m not taking any chances.” Connell stuffed his palm back into his pocket. “Be silent while we walk, outsider, or I’ll shoot off your kneecaps. You don’t need those to answer questions.”
Connell started off, leading the group through the cabin. Dixon and Lila brought up the rear, their tranq guns trained on Camille in case she tried to run.
When they finally stepped through the front door, a dozen grim-eyed militia met them, their guns at the ready. Nico stood before them, a particularly lethal set to his jaw. “We should tranq her now, chief. Transport will be easier, especially if she has a partner. He can’t carry her off the compound and hold a gun at the same time.”
“No. Tranqing her will delay her interrogation by at least a day. The oracle wants to know what the outsider knows, and she wants to know it now.”
Connell clomped across the porch. He stepped onto the asphalt lane that ran through the compound, his eyes searching every building they passed. The purplecoats surrounded the prisoner, like a flock of birds in diamond formation. Unlike the others, Lila watched Camille as she scanned the rooftop and the spaces between the buildings, as she flinched at every door and window that cracked open when they passed.
A grackle landed a few meters away, flapping its wings.
Camille jumped and sucked in her breath.
“I don’t like this,” Lila said quietly, looking over her shoulder at the admin building, only a hundred meters away. “I suggest we take her to the admin building for interrogation and give everyone inside the day off.”
Connell halted. “Why? Do you see something?”
Lila peered around her. The little hairs on the back of her neck rose. “Not yet, but something’s not right.”
A shot cracked above their heads.
A chunk of a nearby cabin disintegrated into splinters.
The group crouched. Nico pushed Camille down into the dirt, covering her with his body. The remaining militia twisted this way and that, searching for the gun.
Connell found it first. “Cabin thirty-eight. Shooter’s on the roof. It’s a long-range rifle with a scope.”
Another shot rang out, hitting Nico’s shoulder.
A third blast pinged into the dirt beside him. Nico twisted to peek at Camille.
A bullet had grazed her arm.
“Nico, get her to the admin building,” Connell ordered, then turned his gaze to four of his purplecoats as well as Lila and Dixon. “You six go with him. The rest of us will go after the shooter.”
Without another second to spare, Connell was off, static-riddled radio in his hand, calling for a lockdown of the compound.
Nico didn’t check his shoulder. He merely picked himself off the ground, warm blood flowing down his arm, and gripped Camille’s hand. He sprinted as though racing Lila. The others struggled to keep up, making a wall to hide the Camille from the shooter.
Lila and Dixon ran alongside them. Not for the first time, Lila wished she had a gun with bullets. Perhaps it was adrenaline or anger, but she didn’t even care if she killed the asshole. She merely wanted the danger gone. She wanted Dixon safe.
She couldn’t do that with heavy darts. They couldn’t hit a target so far away.
Dixon seemed to have the same thoughts. He gritted his teeth, eyes tracking to Lila. The fear he’d shown months ago had passed. Perhaps he’d worked through it. Perhaps after getting poisoned and shot, he’d just assumed they’d get out of danger, just like they always did.
Lila remembered feeling like that once, but she wasn’t sure she’d be so lucky this time, not after what had happened with La Roux.
A series of shots rang out in the dirt, spraying wildly in the group. A male and female purplecoat cried out, one leg and torso impaled with bullets.
Blood bloomed on Camille’s shoulder, matching Nico’s.
Dixon grabbed one of the downed purplecoats and helped him along, barely pausing in his rush toward the admin building. Another purplecoat picked up the woman who’d been hit—Delilah, if Lila recalled her name correctly—and slung her over his shoulder.
More shots rang out.
Nico growled, hit with another bullet in his side. “Hurry up, slackers!” he roared, more to himself than anyone else.
Another purplecoat had been hit in the exchange. The woman didn’t seem to notice though, and Lila wasn’t about to tell her until they were all safe.
Bullets cut through their line once more.
Lila sprinted forward and threw open the door to the admin building. Dixon carried the man he’d been helping into the lobby and deposited him onto a couch. The other purplecoats followed his cue, and Lila slammed the door behind everyone and locked it.
She fell to the floor as bullets sprayed the wood.
A dozen frightened admins huddled against the back wall, eyes wide, arms clasped around their chests. They screamed and cringed as bullets cut through the wood a second time, their faces paling, their bodies trembling.
Nico put down Camille on a couch and reached for the wall to steady himself. Legs buckling, he slipped to the floor. Blood streaked against the stone as he sat upon the wood.
He hadn’t been the only one shot in the abdomen. Camille gripped her side, blood streaming from her wound. “I told you he’d do whatever it took to shut me up. Why wouldn’t you listen?”
Lila turned away from Camille and scanned the row of admins. She fixed on one woman in the center, wearing a violet dress and black flats. Out of every admin in the room, her expression was the most outwardly calm. “What’s your name?”
“Reagan.”
“Okay, Reagan, do you have first-aid training?”
She shook her head. “They do.” She pointed to a couple on the end.
“Reagan, I want you to look up first aid for gunshots on your palm. Remind the others what to do. Answer questions based on the information you find.” Lila turned her gaze to the pair who’d been trained. “I want one of you to stay with Nico. The other will stay with Camille. Pick a partner to help you, and do what you can to slow down the bleeding until Dr. McCrae comes. Their lives depend on it.”
Lila pointed to eight more admins. “Divide yourselves into pairs. Pick a purplecoat. Listen to Reagan’s instructions. She’s going to talk you through everything.”
The men and women scattered, seemingly eager for something useful to do.
“Who has keys to this building?” Lila shouted.
One of the remaining admins raised his hand.
“Lock every exit. If anyone else has keys, do the same. Work quickly.”
The man nodded and bustled away. A woman moved in the opposite direction, darting away with another set of keys jingling between her fingers.
“I’ll go get towels for bandages,” another said, darting off into the bowels of the building.
“You, grab a radio,” Lila said to the only remaining admin. “Call for Dr. McCrae. Keep calling until she comes.”
As ordered, the woman snatched up a purplecoat’s radio and depressed the button. Her voice shaking, she summoned the doctor and every trained medic to their location.
Lila shivered at the quiet outside the building. She heard nothing. No high-pitched wails of happy or unhappy children. No shouts from purplecoats as they joked about their last shift. No grackles begging between the houses and scavenging for food.
The only sound came from the admins. They chattered among themselves, listening to Reagan as she read and reread the first-aid instructions. They clamored even louder when one of their coworkers returned with cloth napkins from the break room.
Dixon waited in the center of the room with his tranq aimed at the front door. Lila pressed into his back, covering the opposite direction, her tranq also drawn. Her eyes flitted toward Nico, who’d been laid out on the floor, his breaths slow and shallow. Too much blood pooled around his shoulder and his side.
Nico looked at Lila square in the face, mumbled a few words, then closed his eyes.
He didn’t reopen them.
Camille didn’t look much better.
“Who is the shooter?” Lila asked.
“His name is Olivier,” Camille said, her eyelids fluttering. “I tried to tell you. I tried to warn you. I wanted you to know the truth. I wanted to tell you everything. What if there’s not time?”
“There will be time.”
“You have to find Blair. She’ll know what to do.”
“The girl’s in shock,” one of the admins said, pressing her wrinkled hand against Camille’s cheek. “She’s growing cold.”
“Where’s the damn doctor?” Lila turned around to the purplecoats, all bloody, every face pale. She and Dixon seemed to be the only ones who had survived the ambush unscathed.
Boots clomped against the path outside. The front door rocked in its hinges as someone kicked it. The admins squealed in a panic, most still holding on to their charge’s wounds while they crouched, torn between hiding and doing their duty.
The door rocked again. “It’s McCrae. Let us in before the asshole shoots us too.”
Lila and Dixon rushed forward and unlocked the door for Dr. McCrae and her six assistants. The group wore purple scrubs, and each carried a leather bag. A flood of purplecoats rushed into the room behind them, taking positions throughout the room. Overhyped on adrenaline and anxiety, many paced. Others braced the doors and windows, guns in hand.
Another group of militia entered with half a dozen stretchers. The wheels clacked upon the wood.
“The evening shift is on its way too,” Dr. McCrae said, brushing past Lila and Dixon to scan the room, stopping when she noticed Camille. “Maggie, take Nico. The rest of you, tend to the others. Everyone who isn’t shot or wearing scrubs get out of the way.”
The admins scattered, returning to their positions in the back of the room, unsure what to do now that their jobs had been taken away.
Lila dragged Dixon from the rest of the group. “If Olivier wants Camille dead, then he’ll make his way back here to finish the job. I’m taking a radio and going up on the roof. I’m going to find that asshole before he takes another shot.”
Dixon pointed at the oracle’s cabin.
“Blair’s fine, Dixon. Connell probably sent half his men to protect her and her sisters. Go there if you must, I won’t hold it against it you, but I’m going hunting. That asshole broke into my car and my room. He put his hands on me. I’m going to find him, and I’m going to shoot a dart straight up his ass.” She snatched a radio and pinned it to her shoulder, then stalked to the front door.
“Keep away from the exits,” one of the militiamen ordered, a rifle cradled in his arms. “We’re on lockdown.”
“No, you’re on lockdown.” Lila threw open the door and sprinted outside, circling to the back of the building. She ignored the shouts and curses from inside.
The door shut behind her. Dixon kept up her pace.
“If this guy had been a true sniper, Camille would be dead.” Lila circled to an edge of the building farthest away from the sniper’s last position. She dug her fingers into the wide gaps between the stones and pulled herself up to the first floor, the rock cutting into her fingers as much as the cold. When she came to the second floor, she gripped the first crisscrossed log joint, which provided easy hand- and footholds, and continued her way up. Splinters dug into her hands, and the ground retreated below.
When Lila reached the top, she swung out, catching an exposed beam in the eaves to pull herself up and onto the roof, a feat made much easier by the roof’s low slant. Dixon shimmied up behind her. The pair walked carefully to the center of the roof, their boots sinking into the soft asphalt shingles, their backs bent into a crouch. No buildings rose taller than the admin building, giving them an unbroken bird’s eye view of the compound.
It only took them a few seconds to spot the sniper rifle. It lay abandoned on the roof of a cabin nearby, well within range. A ring of purplecoats had spread themselves around the structure, heads twisting back and forth frantically as they searched the area. Two recruits paced across the cabin’s roof, ignoring the gun, both scanning the nearby alleys.
“Olivier is on the move with another gun, mark my words. He’s got one mission this morning, and he hasn’t finished it yet, not by a long shot. You understand that if he believes we’re onto him, he’ll come for us next?”
Dixon nodded. He walked carefully to the edge of the building, pointing for her to take the opposite corner, both their heads swiveling to catch a glimpse of Olivier and sound the alarm.
The security personnel seemed just as frustrated as they were. No one had a good fix. Not even Connell. He and a few of his men had rushed the guard towers. Others had spread themselves out along the compound’s stone wall, several noticing Dixon and Lila.
Connell lifted his radio to shout at them. Even from so far away, they could see his scowl deepen.
Before he could say a word, another shot rang out.