Page 84 of G.O.D.S Omnibus

“What about school?” It’s a stupid thing to ask when he has told me five guys will die today.

“Don’t worry your pretty head—you can finish school. You will need additional training to be ready anyway, and I will have my best team to help you out.”

My leg taps restlessly as I rack my brain for a solution, but I don’t know how to help the guys. Mr Z looks at my leg, then back up to my face.

“There is nothing you can do, Jolie. The trial has begun. My tech guy sent them a message from you, and they are currently on the move. This is just how this works. Let me finish the tour and then you are free to leave.”

I nod absentmindedly, even though I just want to get out of here. I have to have faith that the guys are smart enough to figure this out. They have dealt with this man their entire lives. I take a deep breath and blow it out slowly, returning my attention back to Mr Z.

“This is where the magic happens. Only the best scientists work here. Let’s keep going.” We both stand and he leads me into another room. “This is our freezing and storage room. Seventy percent of our students are now made here in this building.”

“And the other thirty percent?” I question. He has to believe I’m interested, or he will drag this out just to mess with me further.

“Are hand-picked by myself and have passed through the test zone,” he states matter-of-factly.

“And what exactly do your teams do?”

“All in good time, my dear.”

We exit the storage room and move back into another long white hallway. I feel nauseous from the overhead lights, but push through it. Taking a left, we stop at a lift where he hits the up button and the metal doors open. Mr Z holds out his hand for me to enter first, and I step in as he follows behind. We both stand in silence until the lift dings and the doors open again.This time we walk into an office styled as a massive, open-plan room with a view of the city. I hadn’t realised how close the Myers house is to the city.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

“Sure is,” I say dismissively.

He walks to his desk and picks up a small remote, then turns back to look at me, his eyes almost teared over.

Deciding to let him in on one more secret, hopefully using this connection to get close to him, I confess, “I know you’re biologically my father.”

“You look so much like her,” he whispers, vulnerability lacing his tone.

“I would love to know more about her,” I say softly.

I have never really sat and wondered what my parents were like, but I’m not sure if it was because deep down, I knew about them. Either way, I do know I need this link to make him vulnerable.

“She was so beautiful. She had this way about her that drew you to her.” He slips the remote in his pocket and picks up a photo frame, holding it out to me.

Walking closer, I take the picture and realise I look so much like this woman—except she has hazel eyes where mine are exactly like Mr Z’s.

“She... I mean, I look a lot like her,” I say as I hand him back the photo.

“She would have loved you,” he replies, voice thick with emotion.

He stands in silence for a few seconds, as if stuck in a memory, before placing the picture frame back on his desk.

“Let me show you how everything else works.” He retrieves the remote from his pocket, and a massive screen lowers down from the ceiling. “Once babies are born, they spend the first four years with their parents or carers. It depends on how muchinvolvement they want. The children are closely monitored during this time. Once the children are of school age, they return to Olympia Corp. We have them train in all aspects of self-defence, weaponry, picking locks, hot wiring cars, computers and so much more. We keep a close eye on every student and find out in which areas they excel, then we fine tune those skills. Most of our groups are paired by age twelve. Obviously, you were different, as you were paired from birth.”

“Do the teams get a say in who they are paired with?”

“Not usually. We watch what friendships are built and which relationships form. People typically work better when there is a level of trust.”

“What happens after they are paired?”

“We send them to high school. Give them the chance to build the relationships with the freedom to be teenagers. They train at least three days a week with their handlers to maintain their skills, though.”

“Then what?” I ask, crossing my arms, patience wearing thin.

“Then they come back and do the trials. Those who make it do three more years of intense training at the academy.”

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