Chapter Five

Chapter Five


Thursday, March 29th, 0012 NE

0349 hours


Atami, Shizuoka Prefecture, Japan


Early next morning




THE POUNDING OF rainfall was so loud, Natalie could scarcely hear herself think. Everywhere she looked from beneath the awning she and Youko stood under—in every direction, in every nook and cranny of every shadowed alley—there was water pouring from the sky and pooling on the ground. She had no idea what the weather was typically like in Japan, but if this was it, they could keep it. Every minute she spent in the Land of the Rising Sun, the more and more she hated the place.

It felt like only a short while ago that Natalie was slipping into one of Nobu’s guest penthouse bedrooms to retire for the night and get some much-needed sleep. She’d barely shut her eyes when she was suddenly being awoken by Youko. Nobu was granting Natalie’s request to visit Ju`bajai and Lisa. The cover of darkness and the veil of street-slamming rain would provide the perfect opportunity to ferry Natalie to the safe house where they were located. And so, after a brief explanation to Javon of where she was going, Natalie was off with Youko. Having traversed the now-abandoned trance hall, Natalie and Youko found themselves staring out at literal sheets of rain.

Removing a mini umbrella from her purse, Youko flicked it out to the side, popping it open. As she held it upright over her head, she pivoted around to Natalie and barked, “Come, now!” Before Natalie could respond, the punk princess sashayed across the street through the downpour.

After bracing herself for a cold dousing from Mother Nature, Natalie shoved her hands into her pockets, tensed her shoulders, and trotted into the street behind Youko. The downpour was falling with the same intensity as it had in the forest, leaving Natalie with little choice but to lower her head and hunker down—all while following Youko, who seemed to be taking her good old time. That Natalie was drenched within seconds while Youko was strolling with cocked hips under the safety of her umbrella only made Natalie dislike the woman more.

Youko walked up to a small pink coupe, a pleasing chirp emitting as its lights flashed a single time. Even in her cold, miserable state, Natalie had to smirk. “Pink, huh?” she asked as Youko walked around the front of the car to the driver’s side. That Youko didn’t answer came as no surprise. What did surprise Natalie, though, was the punk princess’s reaction when Natalie reached for the passenger side door handle.

“No!” Youko’s eyes shot wide as plates—genuinely in terror—as she held out her hand to stop Natalie from opening the door. Her shout was so sharp and loud that it actually made Natalie flinch. “No, no!” Youko yelled, eyes fixed on Natalie as if the American was crazy.

“What? What is it?” Whipping her head around, Natalie bent her knees as if to duck or run for cover. Had her counterpart spotted an EDEN patrol? When she saw no one after them, she looked back at Youko.

The punk princess’s opened palm was still extended. Yelling through the downpour, she said, “You wait. No go in! Wait.”

“What the hell?” Natalie asked, holding her hands out to emphasize the words. She watched as Youko opened the driver’s side door, quickly pulled in the umbrella, and slipped inside. The door was slammed shut with violence. “Fine,” Natalie muttered, “I guess I’ll just stand here in the vecking rain.” She could see her breath in front of her. This was nightmarishly cold—the sweater she was wearing made it worse. Leaning her head to look through the windshield, she could make out the punk princess moving about. What she was doing was lost in the distortion of water.

Natalie stood in the rain for over two full minutes. She knew this because of a bright, flashing clock in the window of one of the many pop culture stores that lined the sidewalks. Briefly, she considered running into the shop to at least escape the constant bombardment, but the clinging hope that at any moment Youko would reveal what she was doing kept Natalie in place. As it turned out, the reveal did come.

Hopping out of the driver’s side again with umbrella in hand, Youko slammed her door then walked around the coupe to Natalie. There was annoyance in her dark, almond eyes—genuine revulsion. Huffing out the most ire-laced sigh Natalie had ever heard from a person, Youko said, “Get go fast—fast!”

“Fast?” Shaking her head, Natalie could only manage an, “Okay,” in a tone that made the word sound more like a question than acknowledgment.

Reaching for the door handle, Youko jerked the door open. “Go, go!”

Natalie was going—truly she was. Placing her hand atop the coupe’s open doorframe, she prepared to hop inside like a jackrabbit. That was, until she saw what Youko had been doing in the car. And at that moment, any attempt to be hasty was cut short.

Towels. Youko had been lining the passenger seat with towels. She didn’t want the seat to get wet.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.” Turning her rain-drenched head to Youko, she stared flatly at the young woman.

“In! In!” Livid, Youko shoved Natalie into the car hard, almost knocking the American’s head against the door frame in the process. Natalie plopped into the seat atop the towels, and the door was slammed shut behind her.

The whole while Youko marched around the front of the pink coupe, Natalie’s emerald glare tracked her. Youko leapt into the driver’s seat, closing her door before her umbrella was even fully retracted. Muttering what sounded like Japanese curse words, Youko pulled down the vanity mirror, meticulously inspecting her spikey black and orange hair then snarling when she spied water droplets.

Natalie, whose own chestnut strands were plastered to her face, was not about to show sympathy.

Spouting a truly passionate ugh, Youko engaged the coupe’s engine and started the car forward.

For what it was worth, the coupe was nice, and in the nearly ten minutes’ worth of driving that it took to get to their destination, Natalie almost forgot that she was cold and miserable. With several heater vents blasting warm air at her, Natalie was able to lean her head back, close her eyes, and just lose herself in her thoughts while she air-dried. She was determined to enjoy every second of it, knowing full well that another march through the rain was likely waiting. For the briefest of moments, she contemplated swiping Youko’s umbrella while the punk princess was focused on driving, but she thought better of it.

When the car finally stopped, it was along the side of the road on a dimly lit street. Sure enough, the moment Youko turned off the engine, she snatched the umbrella, opened it, and quickly stepped out beneath its shelter. For a second time, Natalie’s eyes followed Youko as she walked around the car to retrieve her. The door was opened from the outside, and Natalie once again disembarked. As the door was shut and the car locked, she found herself once again following Youko’s lead through the rain.

Be it mental preparedness or a genuinely shorter walk, Natalie’s second romp didn’t seem nearly as bad as the first. A person could only get so wet. As splashing footsteps brought her closer to their destination, Natalie lifted her eyes against the rain to survey the structure.

With boarded windows and no lights to be seen, it looked like a blighted property. The door, covered by pieces of plywood, didn’t have so much as a handle. As Natalie followed Youko under a narrow but rain-stopping overhang, she glanced down both sides of the street for any signs of life. There was no one. No people walking, no homeless.

After pounding her fist solidly on the door, Youko hesitated for several seconds before leaning her head toward it and shouting, “Kita!”

The door opened several seconds later.

If the outside street was a scene out of a zombie movie, the inside of the building was where the survivors had gathered. As she entered behind Youko, who was busy flapping water droplets off her black, leather sleeves, Natalie counted at least ten people in the lobby area. The inside of the building was lit well—far more than the boarded-up windows had indicated. The wafting odor of cigarettes hung in the air. So far as the occupants went, several were standing near the front door with weapons—some visible and some clearly tucked away under thick jackets. There was a card table off in the far corner of the room; several were gathered around it. All in all, it was exactly the kind of seedy, shady place Natalie expected it to be.

A dialogue ensued between Youko and one of the lackeys, which the dripping wet American failed to decipher. Whatever was said, the end result was that Youko and Natalie were ushered out of the lobby and down a long hallway to a wooden door.

The Japanese gibberish continued to flow as Natalie tried her best to make out any proper names, without success. Marching toward the door, Youko turned the knob and yanked it open. The punk princess stepped back and looked at Natalie, motioning with a sweeping arm gesture for Natalie to lead the way. “Go,” she said simply.

“If you insist.” Behind the door was a wooden staircase leading downward. Natalie, at point, began her descent.

The bottom of the stairwell emptied out into a lower lobby. Just as was the case upstairs, there were couches, tables, and a few other furnishings placed about. “Okay,” Natalie said, identifying a set of doors at each end of the room, “which way do I—” Turning around, Natalie stopped mid-sentence. Youko was gone. Gone as in vanished. Striding toward the stairwell, Natalie looked up the stairs for her Japanese escort. She saw no one.

And I officially have the creeps. Youko had been right behind her as she’d trekked down the stairs. How could she have just disappeared? “Kita?” she called up the stairs. No answer came. “Youko, you up there?”

“She’s not here.”

Natalie nearly jumped out of her skin, and she gasped and spun around. The distinctly British voice had come from behind her, in a direction where there’d been no one a mere moment earlier. But there now, standing with one arm across her chest and the other propped against it, was the last familiar face Natalie expected to see. Squinting as if she couldn’t believe her eyes, Natalie said, “Esther?”

The mocha-skinned woman surveyed Natalie’s battered and bruised face. With her fingers playing with her high ponytail, she said, “Well, you certainly look like you’ve seen better days. Did you fall out of a tree?”

“How in the…?” Turning around, Natalie pointed to the stairway, her words trailing off as her mind sought to reconcile what she was seeing. How was this possible? How was Esther here and also back at the guest suite? Mouth still hanging, she turned back in the scout’s direction. “How are you here?” A ponytail? Esther hadn’t sported a ponytail since Cairo. Natalie’s gaze traveled to her wardrobe. The scout was wearing a white, body-tight uniform that was adorned with blue, hexagonal patterns. For some reason, it struck her as familiar.

As Natalie’s mind raced, a small smirk formed on the scout’s lips, almost as if the mere act of Natalie thinking was prompting it. As if the mocha-skinned woman was reading her mind. And it was right then that Natalie remembered. That white, hexagonal-patterned uniform. She had indeed seen it before—on the most atypical comrade with whom she’d ever served.

“Ju`bajai.” When Natalie said the name, that familiarity hit her. Natalie had been touched by the Ithini’s mind a time or two before—once in Cairo, the other in gearing up for the train mission. But in neither of those experiences had she witnessed something like this. “How do you…? How do you look like Esther?”

After lowering her arms, Ju`bajai wandered toward the nearest couch. “Well, I don’t really.” Falling backward onto it, she stretched her arms in both directions atop it. “Only in your diminutive mind.”

“Did you make Youko disappear?”

“What do you think I am, a sodding magician?” She waved her finger around. “None of what you see here is real. This is what we call a ‘construct.’ An illusion, minus the passage of time.” Ju`bajai lifted her chin. “In the world as you know it, you’re about halfway down that flight of stairs. Mid-step, actually, so watch yourself when this all comes crashing to an end, or you will, too.”

“Does everyone see you like this?”

“Heavens, no. If I looked this good all the time, I’d have to beat the boys away with a stick.”

Natalie pressed her hand to her forehead. “I am so mind-blown right now.”

The comment was ignored, as Ju`bajai motioned with a hand wave toward the couch across from her. “We need to talk.”

Natalie hesitated, standing motionless in the middle of the room as she stared in wonderment at the Esther clone—the construct, as Ju`bajai called it. It was remarkable.

“Oh my God, please,” said Ju`bajai, rolling her eyes. “Stop lusting and take a bloody seat.” Lifting one hand, the construct snapped its fingers.

The next thing Natalie registered, she was sitting on the couch. The transition happened so suddenly, she nearly leapt up in startlement.

“Whoa, easy, girl,” Ju`bajai said.

Heart thumping, Natalie’s eyes fixed on the construct. How was this alien able to do this? To create an entire alternate reality that it could control with the snap of a finger? “How is this possible?”

Shifting from her spot on the couch, the construct answered, “There are many things about my species that you will never understand. Your brain doesn’t have the capacity to.” Lifting her hand, she brushed a few loose strands of her chocolate-colored ponytail off her forehead—so natural was the gesture, it almost seemed based in actual reality. “As I’m sure you may surmise, this is a relatively new experience for me, as well. I can’t say I’m accustomed to feeling quite so liberated—or feeling at all, really.” Allowing her eyes to wander, the Esther construct waved a hand around at the room. “In this realm, I am free to express myself in ways I’d never before imagined. Self-expression comes to you humans so naturally. It actually makes me quite jealous. This expression, this emotion, it’s quite an alien thing to me. It’s what your species is best at.”

All of that was well and good, but it still didn’t answer the question at the forefront of Natalie’s mind. “But why Esther?”

At that, Ju`bajai smiled. “Because Esther represents the ultimate incarnation of human expression. Esther will do as Esther will do, to hell with what everyone else thinks. I envy that.” Slowly, the contented look on the construct’s face faded. Uncrossing her legs, she leaned forward to look at Natalie in earnest. “How is she?”

In the midst of the whole bizarre experience, Natalie found it within herself to answer the question. “Not too good.” Ju`bajai closed her eyes, a look of focus coming across her. All at once, Natalie felt it—that probing of her thoughts, that searching through her experiences like a researcher flipping through the pages of a book. The memory of Natalie’s most recent experience with Esther drifted to the surface—as limited as it may have been. As her gaze stayed on Ju`bajai, Natalie saw the construct inhale and wince. The memories subsided, and the construct opened its eyes.

“I see,” said Ju`bajai quietly.

So she did. This explained how Ju`bajai must have known how to mimic Esther with such perfection. She must have scoured through the scout’s brain. “Has she ever seen you like this?”

The construct smiled sweetly. “It’s the only way she sees me, now. We’ve grown rather close.”

“So when she talks to you, it’s like she’s talking to…herself?”

“A version of herself, yes.”

Natalie massaged her forehead. “She really is Poly--Esther.”

The troubled look on Ju`bajai’s face returned. “I’d kept her unconscious for as long as I was able. I tried to fill her mind with dreams. Of Jay, of her life at Novosibirsk. Of happier days.” A sigh escaped her lips. “Once I was out of range, though, that all came to an end. I’d hoped the comfort I’d given her would be enough to soothe her even after I was gone, at least for a time. But that doesn’t seem the case.”

This was all well and good, but talking about Esther wasn’t the reason Natalie was there.

Ju`bajai picked up on it. Eyes returning to meet Natalie’s, she narrowed them. “Yes, Lisa is here. But I’m afraid that if you’re hoping to add her to the muster roll in the span of a single little chat, well, good luck with that.”

“Could you help me?” Natalie gestured to the room at large. “The way you’re doing this, the way you’re making me see things that aren’t actually here, do you think you could do something like that with her? To show her the truth?”

“But do you even know the truth?”

Nodding her head, Natalie answered, “I know what happened on that train. I know what I saw with my own eyes.”

“Do you know how EDEN knew you were coming?”

Angling her head as if unsure whether or not the alien was toying with her, she tentatively asked, “Do you know how EDEN knew we were coming?”

The construct crossed its legs and leaned back. “Because of a helmet.”

“A helmet? I don’t understand.”

“A helmet was found at Hami Station, where Iosif Antipov sent the Fourteenth to recover satellite codes before destroying the place.” As confusion came to Natalie’s face, Ju`bajai explained. “I took it upon myself to have a little peek inside Lisa’s head whilst we’ve both been here. I must say, she’s quite acclimated to a connection. Though I was able to slip in and out of her brain without being detected, she’s already built up an awareness of my species’ abilities. Vector must train for it, and they must train hard.

“While probing about, I came across a recent memory in which she and her comrades listened to a conversation between Antipov and your little crush.”

Quirking a brow, Natalie asked, “My little crush?”

“Remington.”

“Whoa.” Waving her hands and leaning back, Natalie said, “I don’t have a crush on Scott Remington.”

Making a drawn out ehh sound, Ju`bajai finally said, “Crush was probably the wrong word. It’s more like a burning sexual desire to rip his clothes off and pin him to the wall—it’s quite peaked since he got captured.”

Natalie’s face flushed. “Stop it.”

“Seriously, girl, you have a problem. I know that clock’s ticking, but you’re hornier than a—”

“Stop!”

Hands raising, Ju`bajai said, “Fine, fine.”

Beet-faced and with set jaw, Natalie said, “You were saying, please.”

“So in this conversation between Antipov and the man who in no way, shape, or form is the object of your unrelenting lust…”

Natalie scowled. “God, you are Esther to a T.”

“…several key things were discussed, among which were the purpose of the Hami Station raid and quite specific details about the train hijacking. They even discussed the Nightman migration to Chernobyl. And Lisa was able to hear this conversation because of that helmet I talked about. A Vector by the name of Pablo Quintana—basically, their Boris—was able to tap into the comm frequency the helmet was using. That conversation between Antipov and Remington…they listened to it live.”

It felt like the bottom was falling out of Natalie’s stomach. That was how they knew. That was how they knew everything. The outlaws might as well have handed them a schedule of events.

“So consider this before you speak with Miss Tiffin: no matter what you say to her, no matter what you do, you’re going to have to convince her that the empirical evidence she heard with her own two ears was either a misinterpretation or a falsity.” Ju`bajai’s head tilted. “As much as I would love to assist you in this little endeavor, being as mentally perceptive as she is, she’s going to have to intentionally allow me in to show her your experiences. Do you think she’d allow that? And if she did, do you think she’d trust them?”

“She’d have to trust what she sees with her own eyes.”

The construct shook its finger. “But it’s not with her own eyes. It’d be with yours, as conveyed to her by an Ithini with the power to manipulate the mind. That’s not exactly one of those just-trust-me things.”

“But couldn’t you appear to her like you’re appearing to me now?”

Ju`bajai leaned her head back and cackled. “Oh, Venus, you silly little thing.”

Natalie eyed the alien flatly.

“First and foremost, she’d detect my presence. I’m telling you, the girl is clever. But secondly, if you’re looking to turn Lisa Tiffin, you will not do that with Esther. These two girls have a bit of a history.”

Raising an eyebrow, Natalie asked, “A history?”

“They were in the same scout class at Philadelphia. As to why Lisa’s a sniper now, I couldn’t dig into that too deeply without risking detection, but I can tell you that she has quite a passionate distaste for the Fourteenth’s little double agent. Apparently, Lisa was dropped out of the Academy’s scout program and endured quite the bit of mockery from one Molly Polyester. That wound has recently been reopened in light of recent events, so it wasn’t terribly hard to detect.”

And this…was not surprising. “Esther mocking someone for failing.” Natalie sighed and looked off to the side. “Yeah, I can buy that.”

“Lisa’s behind door number two,” the construct said, indicating with a head nod to the door far behind them, on the other side of the sublevel. “I must warn you before you speak to her that what you say can and may be used against you in a court of Yakuza law. In other words, there’s a camera in there.”

Natalie wasn’t exactly sure what kind of risk that presented, but it was good to know nonetheless. “What kind of condition is she in?”

“She’s got an impressive lump on the back of her head, but if the two of you are going head-to-head in a busted face contest, you’ve got nothing to worry about.” Cheeky grin subsiding, the construct’s face grew serious. “I would like to discuss, if I may, my penchant for being in a constant state of custody. As I’m sure you’ve figured out by now, I’m not literally roaming about this posh little room.”

“Yeah, I figured.”

“I’m currently locked in what seems to have been a wine cellar at one point, judging by the rotting wooden racks and the lovely aroma of dust and must.” She angled her head curiously. “I’ve also discovered cockroaches, and I must say, they’re utterly terrifying. One crawled on my knee and I nearly had a stroke.”

Natalie smirked at the remark before her serious demeanor returned. “I’m working on getting you some freedom. I can’t make promises, but…” She hesitated. “This is uncharted territory for me. Nobu trusted me enough to let me come here, so I’m hoping he’ll trust me enough to let you return to us. But that’s a lot of trust being asked of someone who I’m fairly sure is untrusting by nature.” It wasn’t the answer she wanted to give. Hopefully Ju`bajai could tell that.

For several seconds, the construct just stared at Natalie, its dark, Esther eyes fixated on the American captain’s face. Almost as if the being was in deep thought. At long last, the corners of her mouth lifted. “You’re a good creature, Natalie.”

The thought of creature being used to describe her made her chuckle inwardly. But she felt like Ju`bajai meant it in a good way. “I try.”

“You’re not nearly as nasty, irritating, intolerable, repugnant, or useless as Esther thinks you are.”

And there went the feel-goods.

“Or uptight, or stuck-up, or annoying, or slap-worthy, or—”

“Okay,” responded Natalie flatly. “I get the point.”

That smirk returned. “Good luck with Lisa, Natalie. And I meant what I said earlier.” Raising a warning brow, she pointed toward the stairwell. “That next step’s a killer.”


The world around Natalie vanished. Forward momentum took over. In the same instant that she gasped, her right toe got caught up on the edge of the next step down. Desperately reaching to catch the wall, Natalie caught only air. The tumble began.

Crash! Bang! Thump!

Natalie hit six steps on the way down, and she felt every one of them. Grunting as she rolled awkwardly onto the floor, she leaned her head back in eye-watering pain.

Behind her, the dark eyes of Youko opened widely. Spouting out something in Japanese, she hurried down the steps to assist Natalie to her feet.

“I’m fine! I’m fine,” Natalie said, waving her escort away as she pushed gingerly to her feet. Scowl crossing her face, she searched the bottom room for any sign of Ju`bajai. Though the room looked exactly like it had in the vision, the alien was nowhere to be seen. “Dirty little thing,” she muttered under her breath.

“O-kay?” Youko asked, still staring at Natalie like the captain was a half-crazed klutz.

Summoning what little pride she had left, Natalie nodded. “Yes.” Rising to her feet and with no new broken bones, she ran her hands down her blue jeans to dust them off. “A little worse for wear, but what else is new?” When her gaze locked with Youko’s again, she sighed and nodded again. “I’m fine. I’m okay.”

Youko didn’t look like she believed it, but she nodded just the same. Pointing toward the door at the far end of the room—the same door that Ju`bajai had indicated in the vision—she said, “There.”

With no desire to delay this visit any longer—be it in reality or an Ithini-induced fantasy—Natalie made her way toward the door.

All right, Natalie—how you gonna handle this?

When Natalie had turned outlaw, it was because of the survival of Brent Lilan and Falcon Platoon. It had been their testimonies, the fact that they were alive, that had cut through Natalie’s hatred toward the Fourteenth enough to allow her to think with an open mind. But Lisa didn’t have any of those experiences. All she knew was what she’d been presented, and that was the labeling of the Fourteenth and company as outlaw terrorists. It was the same thing the world at large thought.

Lilan was supposed to have gotten a video message out. Where the hell did it go?

None of that mattered now as Natalie reached out for the doorknob. She would have to rely on what she had on her—a heartfelt testimony of what had truly taken place. Hopefully Lisa would be willing to listen to it. Turning the knob, she pulled the door open and stepped inside.


Lisa was sitting against the back wall of the rectangular room, hands bound and with each leg clasped to a ball and chain, like she’d been taken prisoner by ancient pirates. But the Vector wasn’t alone. At the corners by the door, two lackeys were sitting in chairs, pistols at their sides. Their eyes widened as they saw Natalie appear, though the quick emergence of Youko behind her held them at bay. After a few sharp words from the punk princess, the lackeys’ postures relaxed. Natalie turned her focus to Lisa.

Lisa was awake, and her narrowed green eyes were already on Natalie. Natalie paused, unsure if the Vector knew who Natalie was or that she was a part of the train hijacking attempt. They’d never crossed paths on the battlefield. Before Natalie could ask the Vector if she recognized her, Lisa affirmed her suspicion on her own. “Who in the bloody hell are you?”

The bitterness in Lisa’s tone was expected. It reminded Natalie of herself not too long ago. Taking a step farther, she crouched down to get on the same eye level. Here goes nothing. “My name is Natalie Rockwell. I’m part of the reason why you’re here.”

The instant Natalie said her name, Lisa blinked in confusion. Natalie could see the younger woman’s gears turning. “Natalie Rockwell? Weren’t you captured by the Fourteenth?”

The faintest of smiles emerged from Natalie. She tried her best to make it warm. “That’s right, I was.”

“And you’re…?” After shaking her head a bit, Lisa peered at the American harder. “Are you a prisoner here, too?”

“No…not exactly. But at one point, I was a prisoner—just not here.”

The words deepened Lisa’s already-confused countenance. Almost taken aback, she stared at Natalie from top to bottom as if trying to determine whether the woman crouched before her was indeed who she was claiming to be. Confusion gave way to realization—and realization quickly turned into anger. “Wait one bloody minute…if you’re about to tell me you’re with them…”

Natalie held out her hand. “I understand how that might be confusing.”

“Confusing?” Her face twisted with fury. “Do you know how many people are actively trying to find you? To rescue you? And you’re with Remington?” Lisa leapt to her feet. Though her chains kept her in one place, the movement was sudden enough to prompt Natalie to jump back and the guards to reach for their weapons.

Shooting a look at the drawn weapons, Natalie held out her hands. “No! Put them back, it’s okay!”

Youko yelled something in Japanese, the high-level lackey’s eyes wide with adrenaline. The guards froze, weapons out but lowered, looking between Youko and Natalie with ramped nervous energy.

Her focus back on Lisa, Natalie put up both hands in defense. “Take a breath. I’m not here to confront you, I’m here to talk.”

“Were you with them from the beginning?” Lisa asked, her words running together with emotion. “Was this entire thing a ploy?”

“No.” Trying her hardest to keep her tone level, Natalie dipped her head to convey an attempt to reason. “I wasn’t with them. What happened in Cairo was real, and I got caught up in it.” Lisa angled her head with mounting suspicion. “I switched sides when I realized that EDEN was lying.”

Lisa’s gaze was narrowed; she was practically seething. The captain continued.

“Do you remember Falcon Platoon? When the Nightmen supposedly intercepted and shot down the unit with Klaus Faerber’s son?” The question was rhetorical—Lisa was in Vector Squad, of course she knew. “It wasn’t the Nightmen who shot them down. It was EDEN. They set it up to make it seem like the Nightmen had done it.”

Lisa cocked her head hard, her dark ponytail flopping to one side. “And I suppose you have proof of this, right?” she spat.

“Falcon Platoon is alive.”

And there it was. The bitter scowl on Lisa’s face shifted; her pointed little nose crinkled. A trace of confusion.

It was exactly what Natalie was hoping for. “After they were shot down over the swamp, one of them managed to commandeer a Vulture and fly it to Novosibirsk while the rest of them hid. The Nightmen are the ones who arranged the rescue. Colonel Brent Lilan, Javon Quinton, Tom King, Catalina Shivers, and Tiffany Feathers were all retrieved by the Nightmen. Lilan was killed here in Japan—during the train operation—but the rest are still alive.” Or at least, she hoped Tiffany was. She hadn’t heard anything about the fate of their blond-haired pilot.

For what it was worth, Lisa wasn’t interrupting. Natalie wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.

“I know this sounds crazy, I know this sounds insane, but you have to believe me.” She considered name-dropping Logan as another one to have turned, but she felt that might have more potential to derail things than to help. “Look, I was like you. The Fourteenth tried to explain these things to me and I was reacting just like you are now. That was, until I heard the testimonies of Falcon Platoon and saw for myself what EDEN was capable of.” Her voice grew firm. “This is not the organization you think it is.”

The Vector hesitated. “And what is the point of this conspiracy? What’s in this for EDEN?”

“We don’t know yet. What I can tell you is that we have virtually confirmed communication between Judge Benjamin Archer and a member of the Ceratopian government.”

Raising an eyebrow, Lisa asked, “Virtually?”

“Supposedly, there’s a recording that exists of Archer and the Ceratopians talking. We thought it was on the train—that’s why we went after it. We were looking for that evidence.”

“And that justifies attacking a train?”

“We didn’t even pack lethal rounds. Our guns had rubber bullets. We didn’t want anybody getting hurt; we just wanted to get the evidence and leave.”

The corner of Lisa’s lips curved. “And did you get it?”

It took a moment for Natalie to recognize the jab, but when she did, she almost snarled.

“Listen,” Lisa said, “I don’t care who you are. I don’t care what you believe. There’s zero justification for the things you and your friends have done. Let me guess—there was something you were trying to recover at Hami Station, too.”

“I wasn’t at Hami Station.”

Lisa cocked her head. “That’s too bad. You missed all the pyrotechnics when Scott Remington blasted it to hell. But that’s all right. We have our own surprise cooking that I’m sure you’ll hear of soon enough.”

Their own surprise? “What are you talking about?”

“Chernobyl Crater. Or at least, that’s what they’ll be calling it from now on.” When Natalie angled her head, the Vector continued. “We knew that the surviving Nightmen from Novosibirsk were migrating there. We had a little gift in store for them when they arrived. A little air delivery.”

An ache rose in the pit of Natalie’s stomach. Despite the coyness of her words, there was no mistaking what Lisa was saying. EDEN had planned to bomb Chernobyl. Whatever horrified expression was appearing on Natalie’s face, she knew it must have been easy to pick up on. Lisa’s smirk only grew.

“You didn’t know that, did you?”

No, she did not—and she was quickly sorting out in her mind what it all meant. The leader of the Nightmen—Antipov, a man she only knew by name—had been en route to Chernobyl. If he and the rest of the Nightmen migrating with him were dead, then that meant…

…that meant Northern Forge was all they had left. A Northern Forge without Scott Remington or anyone from the train hijack team. Though she scarcely knew the keeper, Valentin Lukin, he hadn’t struck her as the kind of person to voluntarily take up arms to fight the good fight. All of these factors were adding up in her head to form a single, awful conclusion: Natalie and the survivors there in Japan may have very well been all that remained.

But wait…the Ikeda-kai are in contact with the Nightmen. That means there must be someone left at the forge.

Or did it? Nobu stated that he needed Natalie’s comm codes in order to reach the Nightmen—that didn’t mean there were any Nightmen left to reach. Did she really expect Valentin and whoever was left to start negotiating for Natalie’s release? That was highly, highly unlikely.

Flipping her ponytail, Lisa leaned back with smugness. “Well, this little chat’s taken a dramatic turn, now, hasn’t it?”

Natalie couldn’t help it; emotion took over. The next thing she registered, her open palm was swinging for the side of Lisa’s face.

Smack!

Behind Natalie, Youko and her henchmen flinched. Lisa’s mouth opened as she blinked up in shock. The seconds that followed were a blur. The Vector lurched forward as much as her chains would allow. Youko grabbed Natalie from behind and pulled her out of the room. As Lisa was shoved back down by the guards, the Vector screamed, “They’re going to come for me! And when they come for me, they’ll come for you!” In the second before the cell door was closed, she tacked on, “Tell Esther hello for me!” And that was it. The door was shut.

The attempt to turn Lisa was a crash and a burn.

No sooner had the door been shut between Natalie and Lisa, the former found herself being shoved in the chest by Youko. The Japanese woman was spouting off something angrily, though Natalie couldn’t understand a lick of it. Translation was scarcely required. She was reaming Natalie out for what’d just taken place.

This is why Scott never told me the truth. Things might have devolved into something like this. He couldn’t take the chance.

After pushing her fingers up through her spiky strands, Youko got on her comm and queued up someone. It seemed a million words a minute were coming out of her mouth as she addressed the person on the other side, who could barely get a word in edgewise. Though the conversation was in Japanese, the voice sounded like Nobu’s. Wherever Youko stood in the hierarchy, it had to be up there. Natalie couldn’t imagine a run-of-the-mill lackey being allowed to address their leader that way. With another hard shove from behind, Youko forced Natalie toward and up the stairwell. Passing the briefest of glances toward the cellar door on the sublevel—the one Ju`bajai was somewhere behind—Natalie thought out into the void, I’ll get you out of here. She had no idea if the Ithini was listening, and she received nothing in reply, but just in case, she wanted the alien to know.


Natalie’s second ride with Youko almost made the first one seem pleasant. If there’d been no effort before to keep Natalie dry, now it felt as if Youko was going out of her way to get Natalie as soaked as possible—and that the rain was coming down harder didn’t help. But even sopping wet and freezing to the bone, Natalie found herself numb to the misery of the elements. Her mind was too far elsewhere. Her priorities had rearranged.

What if the bulk of the Nightman force—the force that was supposed to rally and regroup at Chernobyl—had been wiped off the face of the Earth? What if Valentin, now free from any influence of Scott Remington or a Nightman leader, had no intention of rescuing Natalie or negotiating with Japanese crime lords? What if Natalie and her band of survivors were all that remained? This could be the end. Her only hope—her only prayer—was that when Nobu reached out to Northern Forge, he got a reply. She didn’t want to think about what might happen if no one answered back. The oyabun might just find his captives more trouble than they were worth. And if that turned out to be the case…

…hopefully he’d have the decency to kill them quickly.

By the time Natalie had returned to the suite, the survivors had already begun to stir. Their eyes were glued to an English news broadcast that was discussing the bombing of Chernobyl. The stone-faced looks on their faces told her all she needed to know. They felt the same sense of dread in their souls as she did. Despite whatever new information the broadcasts would present, Natalie didn’t care to hear about any of it. Instead, she slipped back into the bedroom and curled up on the floor in the corner to go back to sleep—only the drug-induced Jakob remaining in the room with her. His steady breathing provided just the right level of ambient noise to put her quickly to sleep.


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