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I shake my head. Harry really is insane. Crazed with ideas of revenge. His hatred for Chris and me is the most puzzling thing in the world. Chris and I were nothing but forgiving and kind to Harry — even after I learned that Harry had turned me in to the commander of our labor camp, earning me an immediate death sentence.

I forgave him for that.

But Harry… he didn’t learn from his mistakes.

He took the easy route. He sold out, and now he’s the bad guy.

“You could have been a good guy,” I tell him. “You could have helped us.”

“There’s no fame or recognition in the militias,” Harry snorts. “With Omega, I’ve been given the world. The New Order will elevate me to an esteemed position while the stupid, idealistic militia drivel is crushed under our feet.” He sits on the edge of his cot. “You could still join us, you know. There’s always room for one more.”

I reply, “I think you know I’d rather die.”

Harry frowns. “Yes, I guessed that was what you’d say. Still…” He sighs. “It doesn’t hurt to ask, does it?”

He checks his watch.

“Ah,” he says. “It’s nearly time for the show.”

“You’ve been sending assassins into Monterey,” I say, maintaining a cool expression. “Monterey was relatively safe until Chris and I showed up. Why are you so obsessed with getting revenge? We never did anything to you, Harry. We helped you survive, and in return, you stabbed us in the back. We’re the ones that should hate you.”

“And you do hate me,” Harry hisses. “You know you do.”

“I don’t hate you. I hate what you’ve done.”

“You’re a terrible liar, Cassidy.”

“Unlike you. You seem to be the master of deception.” I fold my arms across my chest, unmoving. “How many more innocent people have to die before this ends?”

Harry’s lip twitches.

“Many more,” he says. “The war is far from over.”

I spend two hours in Harry’s tent, alone. I don’t know where he goes, but I’m sure that wherever he is, he’s causing more trouble. The shock and numbness of being captured by Omega troops has worn off, and I am thinking hard, trying to figure out a way to escape.

Unfortunately, I’m coming up dry.

There is no way out of this. I am surrounded on all sides by hundreds of Omega troops. I can’t simply slip out of camp, and even if I did manage to get through their lines, I have no idea where I am. Where would I run to? Certainly not the beach. I’d have to run inland. That would be the only way…

“Well, Commander,” Harry says, pushing the flap aside on the tent, “it’s time to start the show. Care to join me? I’ve got a matinee showing.”

“Enough theatrics, Harry,” I reply. “Seriously.”

He grins and offers his hand. I rise from my sitting position on the cot and follow him outside. It is early morning. The fog is still heavy. The sun is dimly glowing behind the clouds.

“This way,” Harry encourages.

He is flushed, strangely excited. I do not trust him for a second.

The door to the Humvee that we arrived in several hours ago is open.

“After you,” Harry says, mockingly offering me the door.

I lift my chin and get into the vehicle, knowing that I have no choice.

I keep my hands in my lap, my eyes staring out the window as Harry climbs in to sit behind me, three guards in the vehicle with us, including a driver. I feel claustrophobic, being trapped in a confined space with one of my most despised enemies. Harry, after all, is the same sadistic man who captured Chris and tortured him in an Omega prison in Los Angeles.

If I had any love for Harry, it vanished when he hurt Chris.

The Humvee moves in line with the small convoy. We head toward the coastline. I can barely make out the Pacific Ocean. It is a dull gray in the foggy morning light, an ode to things to come, I fear.

The Humvee is driving down a side road. I can’t see how close we are to the main highway. We stop at the crest of a small hill. The engines cut out, the doors open, and Harry laughs.

“It’s show time,” he says.

I get a sick feeling in my stomach.

I follow him outside, where he makes me stand at the front of the Humvee.

“Watch,” he tells me, buttoning the top button in his black overcoat. A red piece of cloth is tied around his forearm. It reminds me of the Nazi Gestapo uniform from the 1940s.

Is Omega any different?

No.

I follow Harry’s line of sight. The other Omega officers in this group are smiling and watching the horizon, gleeful. I squint, then recognize the slight crescent shape of the Monterey Peninsula in the distance.

And then, just off the coastline, I see ships. Four of them. Large warships, surrounding the little harbor like a wall. I suck in my breath, praying, No, no, no! This can’t be happening! Not after all the sacrifices we’ve made — all the battles we’ve already fought!

“Our warships are quite deadly,” Harry brags. “I’m sure this battle will be over very shortly, fortunately for your forces.”

As soon as the words leave his mouth, I hear the explosion. It is similar to the detonation in Sacramento at the Capitol Building. It is a massive strike. I see the rolls of smoke and the rumbling aftershock of the explosion reaches us even here, across the bay. There is a second strike, then a third one. All of them hit buildings and key installations along the coastline.

I raise my hands to my lips, horrified.

Monterey is under attack, and there is nothing I can do about it.

Chapter Thirteen

I grab Harry by the shoulders and slam him backward against the hood of the Humvee. “How could you do this?” I demand, tears burning in my eyes. “Innocent people are going to die. Good people, Harry!”

Two Omega guards grab my arms and pull me off Harry, forcing me to the ground. One of them slams the butt of his rifle into the back of my neck. I flinch from the pain and hang my head, heaving.

“Good people, bad people,” Harry replies, “what’s the difference, really? We’ve all got bad in us, so we’re all bad. It’s just a matter of who’s stronger.”

“It’s a matter of choosing the good over the bad,” I say defiantly. “That’s what makes us who we are — that’s what defines us.”

Harry shakes his head.

“Take her away,” he commands. “Keep her safe and sound until the moment arrives.” He mock bows. “Pardon me, Senator. I’ve got the rest of Monterey to destroy, and so little daylight to work with.”

The guards drag me away, stuffing me into a different vehicle — a white, retrofitted pickup truck. They surround me. My neck is throbbing from the blow of the guards’ rifle, and I am trembling.

Did they blow up the postgraduate school? Is Chris dead? Is everyone I know gone? They can’t be. They just can’t

I stop my train of thought, forcing myself to focus. The truck veers back onto the little road, disappearing into the fog. It’s just us. Two guards and the driver. I am in the center seat, staring at the console up front. I keep my hands flat against my hips, slowly slipping the fingers of my right hand into my pocket.

The small pocketknife that Jonas didn’t take is still there. Harry didn’t think to search me again, assuming that Jonas had already taken care of everything. Stupid move. Harry is brilliant in many ways, but he tends to miss the obvious.

The rumble of the engine in the car is enough to drown out the sound of me painstakingly opening the knife with one hand. I swallow when the blade clicks into the upright position, eyes darting sideways. The guards are oblivious, staring straight ahead, guns in their laps.