Page 80 of Agent Zero
It was indeed Cal.They were in the same boat.
Great.The chains meant to hold wrists to ankles made a soft slitherclash as he moved a little more, testing his body’s responses.
Concrete walls, more sensed than seen.The only light was a faint gleam under the heavy barred door.Two metal shelves they would call bunks and charge the poor bastard in the stockade for using.
They did things like that to keep you indebted.Freewas a politician’s word, meaning whatever they wanted it to mean and losing all importance when they decided otherwise.
The restraints at his ankles took a little more work.Cal had stopped moving, and his breathing had changed.They’d dosed Reese hard, but it was already mostly worn off.He tasted salt, metal, grit, and a fading ghost of Holly all over his damp clothes.
They’d dragged him through the snow, the bastards.
Cal began moving again.Reese worked on his ankles.By the time he got them loose, almost slicing his fingers on sharp metal, Cal had his own hood off.
“Location?”Cal whispered.
South, probably.Arizona?There’s installations there.“Dunno.”
“They got her?”
“Guess so.”What was your first clue?Sarcasm was useless, no matter how much it might have made him feel better.
“Then they’re dead,” Cal said, quietly.“What’s our plan?”
Why don’tyoucome up with one?There was a wad of nasty, hairy mucus in Reese’s throat; he hawked and spat as quietly as he could and immediately felt better.Probably leftovers from the drug.He probed at his aching shoulder, hot even through his clothes—healing up.That was good.“Door.”
“What?”
Holly would have understood immediately.Reese inhaled, deeply, pushing the rage down.If they’ve hurt her...
Except he was the one who had dragged her into this.“Getting the door open.”
“That first one’s a lulu.”Cal’s short, half-swallowed laugh wasn’t loud enough to be heard outside the room.They were probably being recorded.
Reese found out he didn’t care.Where there was a will, there was a way.He’d figure out how to get that door open—or he’d find a way to overpower whoever came through it, and keep going until he found Holly.
Or her body.That’s what you’re afraid of, isn’t it?
He told that little voice inside his head to shut the fuck up and began to examine the room, holding his stretched shoulder.His hands were bloody, missing some flesh.That might compromise his effectiveness, but?—
He froze.So did Cal, who had slithered off his own bunk and begun his own examination of the cell.
There.“You hear that?”Reese whispered.
Cal’s wolfish grin was a gleam in the darkness.“Visitors.”
FIFTY-ONE
The place was huge,full of concrete tunnels either badly lit or glaring bright, and it smelled awful.The woman—Trinity, she’d said, her mouth pulling into a bitter line,you might as well call me that—walked ahead, halting and cocking her blonde head whenever she heard someone approaching.Holly did her best to move silently in Trinity’s wake, stepping with exaggerated care so her new boots didn’t squeak.At least her feet were dry.
Well, dry-ish.
She was surprised she wasn’t stumbling, but her body seemed to know what to do.She was even further surprised when the woman began to talk, in that flat mechanical tone.“Odds are they’ve been transported already, which will increase our chances of escape.Do you have any ID?”
What?“No, it’s back in my…” She was babbling, Holly realized.“No.Why?”
“Because I need to know what to do with you,” was the crisp, flat answer.Trinity’s back was ballet-straight under her blazer, and those sensible flats had thick soles that didn’t dare squeak.Cold and contained, her expression hadn’t changed when she slammed the man’s head down onto the tabletop, breaking his nose and spreading blood everywhere.The man with the fried-food smell might even be dead, that’s how hard his skull had hit, and Holly’s stomach was queasy just thinking about the sound of cracking bone.
She waited, but Trinity said nothing more.God, she’s just like Reese.“Are you...you’re one of them.An agent.”
