Miranda uses her phone to take a picture of the machinery. “We got it,” she says.
I see her check the photo and close her camera app.
“So we can go now?” I ask.
Miranda shoots a nervous glance toward Lee. “Not exactly,” she says.
Francisco puts the duffel bag down at his feet.
“What’s going on?” I say.
I get no response.
“A minute forty-five seconds,” Miranda says, studying the timer on her watch.
I look at the duffel bag.
“What’s in the bag, Lee?”
“Something we add to the system,” he says.
I look at the feed pipe in front of me, the top of it with a latch and round handle that turns like a metal steering wheel. Pop the latch, and you have an opening directly into the system.
“What are we adding?” I say.
Lee and Francisco look at each other. They don’t answer me.
“A minute fifteen,” Miranda says.
Lee pulls thick gloves from out of a side pocket of the duffel bag. He holds the gloves out to me.
“For you,” he says. “You’re the guest of honor.”
“What do I do with those?”
“Put them on. You’re going to be handling a hazardous substance.”
“I thought this was a game,” I say.
Lee shrugs, noncommittal.
“Leave him alone,” Miranda says. “He doesn’t know what’s going on.”
“He’ll find out soon enough,” Lee says to her, then turns back to me. “If you’re with us, you’ll put them on.”
“I can’t be with you unless I know what we’re doing.”
I look at Miranda, but she won’t meet my eye.
“We’re poisoning the water supply,” Lee says. “So now you know.”
I glance at Francisco. He’s watching me carefully.
“Why?” I say.
“Because those are my father’s orders.”
“And you’re okay with that?”
“I don’t question orders. I carry them out,” he says.
The way he says the words, it’s almost like they’re coming out of my own mouth.
I look at the gloves being dangled in front of me.
Is this real, or is it a game?
Judging by the serious expressions on the faces around me, it’s no game.
My mission is to take out Moore. Anything I do is in service of that goal alone.
If helping them commit an act of terrorism would bring me closer to Moore, then in theory I should do it.
But why was Moore targeted in the first place, if not to prevent something like this from happening?
Without being able to talk to The Program about this, I’m going to have to make a judgment on my own.
As I look at Lee holding out the gloves, I realize I already have.
I can’t stand by and watch these people poison the water supply, even if acting against them will destroy any chance I have of completing my mission.
Miranda is peering at the timer on her watch. “One minute to go.”
“Well?” Lee says.
I look at the gloves, but I don’t reach for them.
Lee grunts and snatches them away.
“Never send a boy to do a man’s job,” he says, putting them on himself.
“Slow down,” Francisco says calmly. “We don’t do anything until we get the signal.”
Lee glares at him. “Unzip the duffel bag, Franky.”
“Not until we have confirmation,” Francisco says.
Lee is sweating, the veins in his neck popping out. Francisco, on the other hand, is relaxed, his gaze steady and unblinking.
“Goddamn it,” Lee says. “Open the bag.”
“Wait,” Francisco says calmly.
“Fifteen seconds,” Miranda says, her voice tight with tension.
“I hate you,” Lee says to Francisco. “You’re not even one of us.”
“I am one of you,” Francisco says. “Your father trusts me with his life.”
“I don’t trust you. Not at all.”
“Whatever your feelings about me,” Francisco says, “we follow procedure.”
“Fine,” Lee says. He makes a huge gesture of taking the phone out of his pocket and holding it in front of him.
“Countdown starting,” Miranda says.
I watch Lee, judging the distance between us, planning how I will take him out if he reaches into the duffel bag. My only question is order of attack—can I move fast enough to neutralize him before Francisco and Miranda realize what’s happening and respond? Based on what I’ve seen up until now from Francisco, I decide it would be prudent to disable him before going after Lee.
Miranda says, “We go hot in three, two, one…”
There’s a ping from Lee’s phone.
He looks at it, and his shoulders slump.
“Goddamn it,” he says. “It’s just the game.”
Miranda exhales loudly.
“What did I tell you?” Francisco says. “No need to even open the bag.” He betrays no emotion as he says it.
“Sending the picture,” Miranda says, and I see her using her phone to text the photo of the feed pipe.
“Wonderful,” Lee says with a sneer.
“You’ll keep first place in the rankings,” Miranda says, trying to make him feel better.
“That’s kids’ stuff,” he says. “I’m talking about the real thing.”
“You shouldn’t be in such a rush to get to the real thing,” Francisco says.
“Whatever,” Lee says, pulling off the gloves and throwing them into the bag.
“All right, let’s focus,” Francisco says. “We still have to get out of here undetected and get back to camp.”
“Maybe we should make Daniel walk back,” Lee says.
“Stop it,” Miranda says.
“I don’t know whose side this guy is on,” Lee says.
“I’m here, aren’t I?” I say.
“But are you loyal?”
Francisco and Miranda pause, waiting for me to answer.
“I don’t give my loyalty away,” I say. “It has to be earned.”
“That’s a good answer,” Miranda says softly.
“We haven’t earned it?” Lee says, challenging me.
“Not yet,” I say.
Francisco nods. “Fair enough,” he says. “Now let’s get out of here before we have a bigger problem on our hands.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
WE MAKE IT BACK TO THE VAN.
Francisco drives us to camp with Lee sitting in the front seat this time, slumped down, a cap pulled over his face as he naps.
When we’re clear of Lake Shore Road, Francisco turns on the radio, finding a jazz station he likes and keeping it low.
I lean over to Miranda in the backseat.
“I don’t understand what happened tonight,” I say quietly.
“The teams are sent out to scout different places and bring back a picture of what they found as proof. We get points for every successful mission.”
She lowers her voice, and I move a little closer to her in the van.
“If it’s just a game, why is Lee so upset?”
“We have to treat it like an actual op until the text comes in. “
She glances toward the front seat.
“He wants it to be real,” she whispers, “but it never is. It’s my dad’s version of a mind fuck.”
“That’s a relief,” I say.
“You wouldn’t have gone through with it?”
I detect the change in her tone as she asks it, her voice deepening. She’s serious.
“Killing innocent people?” I say. “It sounds a little crazy to me.”
“It’s not about killing people. It’s about shaking up the system in a profound way.”
She looks at me, her face hidden in the dark of the backseat.
“I’m all for shaking things up,” I say.
“I thought so,” she says.
She reaches over and runs her fingers down the length of my arm. The sensation makes me shiver.