Codename: Nightshade (Deadly Seven Strike Force) (33 page)

“No,” he says. “You can’t know these things unless you have her somewhere.”

Sweet zombie-loving Christ.
We’re about to be caught by the people who scrambled his brain and want to put me six feet under, and he’s got to choose
now
to go full-metal delusional on me?

“Where in the hell are you, Claymore?” I mutter, holding my gun to my forehead as I send up a prayer to whatever power might be looking out for us.

The PA system on one of the cars clicks on with a loud whine. “Penelope Vincent, this is the Springfield P.D.”

Penelope Vincent.
Not Agent Vincent. Not Nightshade. I remember seeing Countess’ face on the news. I suddenly imagine mine gracing the cover of
The New York Times
tomorrow morning.

I’ve been burned.

The council has turned against me.

“Miss Vincent,” the officer says. “We know you’re in there. Please come out, unarmed, with your hands up, and we'll make this as painless as possible.”

How did they get the slip on me? I know we should have stayed mobile, but I don’t know how I was tracked here.

I assess possible outcomes, everything leading to the fact that I’m going to have to turn us in.

“Where is she?” Nikolai asks. “Where’s Penelope?”

“Nick, I really need you to snap out of it,” I say, peeking through the curtain again. Now there are more uniforms than I can count. And though the squad cars are stationed closest, I see Army fatigues in the background. They have a sniper positioned on the roof of the drug store across the street. “Get low,” I warn him. I can’t make out the rifle from this distance, but I’m sure they brought in heat-seeking tech.

How the hell did they find me?

“Miss Vincent,” a different voice says over the loudspeaker. This one isn’t from around here. His accent is foreign. Austrian… maybe German? His voice is nasally high-pitched. “By now, I’m sure you are well aware that this is more than just a local authority’s raid. You are in possession of something that belongs to me.”

I don’t have anything that belongs to anyone. I’m in possession of a gun that Hassan gave me. I don’t even know who that guy is. I can’t see him from this viewpoint, and I’m not about to give the sniper more confirmation on where I am in the room.

I turn back to check on Nikolai. He’s given up his tirade against me, going silent once the German guy started to talk.

He’s a damn statue. Every inch of him is frozen except the twitch in his cheek.

“Nick—”

He grunts, and I see genuine fear in his eyes.

“Do you know who that is?” I ask, nodding toward the window.

He doesn’t speak, but I can tell he does.

Something that belongs to me.
“Is that Heinrich?”

The twitch in his cheek intensifies.

“It is in your interest to comply with surrender. I will give you to the count of five to come out.”

“Nick—”

“One,” Heinrich says.

“Look at me, Nick. Stay with me. You don’t have to go back to this.”

“Two.”

He’s struggling against the restraints his mind is putting on his body.

“Fight it, Nick.”

“Three.”

He moans and forces his lips apart. “Go.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” I say.

“Four.”

He starts to whimper, his breathing accelerating. We both know what’s coming.

“Five,” Heinrich says.

I stand up, leaving my gun on the floor. I walk to Nikolai. “This isn’t your fault, and I’m going to do whatever it takes to get you free.”

“Very well, Miss Vincent,” Heinrich says. “You have chosen your fate.
Mak
.”

Mak.
Russian for Poppy.

The fight drains from Nikolai instantly. My Nick is gone as the assassin takes over. His hand wraps around my throat, and he charges forward. My back slams against the door with enough force to rattle the hinges.

Damn, that hurts.

“Bring her out alive,” Heinrich announces over the loudspeaker.

I have a hundred pleas on the tip of my tongue that I want to throw at Nikolai. I know he’s in there. I’ve brought so much of him out over the past week. But I know Heinrich just turned on the flood that washed all that away. I’ve had seven days up against ten years of programming.

I never had a chance.

He drags me by the grip on my neck as he opens the door and steps out. There's no huge show of force. Each squad car contained only two cops. The SUV carried Heinrich and a few dudes in gear like what I found Nikolai in a week ago.

Always figured I'd go out in a blaze of glory, but I should have known better. The people I kill don't even know I'm watching them. I shouldn't have expected anything different with my own death.

They don't want to kill me. They want me alive.

Nikolai leads me to the furthest SUV, where a tall, thin man dressed in a long black coat stands waiting for us.

Heinrich.

The middle of his body is too long for the rest of him. His arms stick out like the arms of a T-Rex. He’s got narrow shoulders and no hips to speak of. His head is shaped like a cylinder, rising from his shoulders at the same width as his scrawny neck.

Heinrich sizes me up before he speaks. He looks from me to Nikolai and back again twice before he settles on addressing Nikolai. “Well done, Subject A.”
Subject A.
Nikolai doesn’t even have a real name anymore. Heinrich’s accent is heavy, like the leather boots he wears that I’m face to face with. “Ms. Vincent,” he says, staring down at me with beady eyes. “It is an honor to finally meet you.”

I’m suddenly struck by what he reminds me of. He’s a Muppet. He’s a goddamn Indiana-Jones-Nazi-bad-guy-wannabe Muppet.

Please tell me I’m not about to be taken into the custody of a cliché.

I blow a stray strand of hair from my eyes, achieving my best Harrison Ford impersonation as I say, “Can’t say the same for you.”

Heinrich smiles, but it’s not a smile. It’s a calculated evaluation manifesting in a display of emotion. I’m reminded of Dr. Stevens. The researcher has discovered his first fact about the rat.

“He always said you would fight the hardest.”

Nikolai’s hand hasn’t left my neck. I know I can fight him. I might even get as far as the end of the parking lot before someone shoots me with something. Conclusive assessment of the situation says it’s smart to not fight. Not yet. They want to take me alive.

I don’t struggle when I feel the zip tie secure around my wrists. “Whoever he is, he’s smart,” I say.

Heinrich looks to Nikolai. He wears glasses, the same ones Dr. Stevens wore. They really must get those with the PhD. His eyes are blue, so vibrant they don’t look real. A few strands of pale blonde hair fall across his high forehead as he says, “She thinks you’re smart, Subject A.”

I know Nikolai’s brilliant, but I keep that to myself.

“I fear I must apologize, Ms. Vincent,” Heinrich says.

“Agent Vincent,” I correct him.

“Ms. Vincent,” he repeats, emphasizing the words with a sharp glare down at me. “You were not scheduled to be taken yet, but your abilities have grown out of proper control.”

Out of proper control
. What the hell does that mean?

“Do not worry, Ms. Vincent,” he says as if he can read my mind. “You won’t understand any of this shortly. Your worries will disappear.”

He’s going to mess with my mind.

That does it. I’ve reached the point where survival means more than not being shot. I fight, twisting far enough around to bite Nikolai’s wrist. He lets go, and I land a hard kick to his legs as I jump to my feet. My hands are tied behind me, but that doesn’t affect my legs. I dodge two more guards and sprint.

My heart beats hard between my ears, and I know… I
know
I’m fucked, but I run for all I’m worth.

I don’t even feel it. It has to be a dart, or a bullet of some sort. It hits me so quickly that it blends with the adrenaline pumping through my blood. It’s only when my feet go heavy and clunky under me and my eyes start to close that I realize I’ve been drugged.

“No… stop…” I’m trying to say, but my lips are heavy. My throat is closing up.

The edges of my vision are going dark. Nikolai is above me then. He’s not trying to help me. He looks ready to strangle me completely now. I focus on his eyes, clinging to words he once branded into my brain.

You will be taken hostage, Poppy. It’s not something those in our line of work can avoid. But that doesn’t mean you’ll be a victim.

As long as your mind stays strong, they can’t break you.

12

I was asleep.

That’s the only thought running through my head as I thrash within the stronghold wrapped around me. There’s something covering my face. It’s thin enough that I can hear through it, made of some sort of cloth. A pillowcase, maybe? It stinks with the tang of sweat and something else… a harsh chemical smell that singes my nostrils each time I inhale.

I’m disoriented. My feet aren’t touching the ground, but I can feel that I’m in motion. I was unconscious. I don’t know how long I’ve been out, what’s moving me, or in what direction.

I try to move. Whatever’s around me tightens.

I can’t breathe.

“Let me go,” I say. It’s meek and coated with the last trace of sleep in my system.

“Keep her quiet,” a voice says. I can’t tell if I recognize the voice.

The more I wake up, the more terror laces each of my breaths.

What’s going on?

I was asleep.

They hit me at my weakest, took advantage of the one vulnerability every human has.

I can’t tell how many are around me. One holds me, and one told him to keep me quiet, but is that all?

Your first priority is to assess your situation, Recruit Vincent. You can’t fight what you don’t understand.

I try to take a deep breath. I can’t.

I can’t breathe.

The chemical smell is nauseating.

I can’t get a handle on the situation, can’t assess shit. I pray that this is just a drill. That hardass Zolkov warned us that all bets were off starting yesterday. I wouldn’t put it past him to kidnap me and call it 'training'.

We move for a few more minutes, and I hear a loud whine of metal against metal followed by a loud thunk.

A door opening, maybe?

“Put her in the chair.”

That’s the same voice that told the one holding me to shut me up. I think.

Everything feels like it’s moving too fast and yet slower than normal at the same time. My heart is beating so fast that my body vibrates with adrenaline. It’s years before I feel the chair underneath me, but once I do, the voices around me are speaking at a speed that only the Chipmunks can understand.

Pain rips through my cheek, and I scream.

My hands are secured behind me, my legs tied to the front of the chair.

“Please,” I say, my voice trembling. “Please.”

I don’t know what I’m begging them to do. I just want to go back to sleep.

I just want this to be a bad dream.

More words fly at me. I can’t process them. Another hit, this time to my shoulder. Something in my brain snaps. I want to cry. I want to scream. My mouth opens and the disgusting stench pours in, all the way down to my guts and pulls the vomit back out with my next breath. I throw up, and whatever covers me face catches the puke, suffocating me with it.

I hear more words, something that makes me hope they’ll at least uncover my head. A few seconds, or another year, I don’t know, and my face is liberated.

I draw in a deep breath, coughing as the last bit of vomit clears from my throat.

“You’re a disgrace,” the voice says.

It’s no longer distorted by my fear and the pillowcase. It’s clear as a bell tolling over a graveyard in the dead of night.

I’m pulled out of the memory, sucked free of the effects of the drug Heinrich hit me with.

I smell the tang of stomach acid and know I threw up this time, too. Last time it was from inexperience. This time I’m guessing it’s from whatever was in my system.

I’m not afraid of being kidnapped anymore.

Nikolai taught me how to handle it.

“I’m the best,” I say, locking my breaths under control. I realize the chemical smell was external from the memory. It’s in the room I’m in now, permeating the air like a cloud.

I can’t see anything but a bright light that shines directly in my eyes to distort the rest of the view. I hear feet shuffle around me, telling me more than one person is in the room. A drip echoes in the far right corner. I don’t know if it’s real or for the effect of slowly driving me insane. I pinpoint the chemical as chlorine. If I didn’t know better, I’d say we were sitting in a pool cleaning supply room.

I hear the motion of his hand the exact second I feel the slap on my cheek.

It’s sick. I’m sick.

My insides tighten in a way that’s opposite from what I should be feeling. I know that hand. I know the force of his hits. I know this isn’t some scene he’s playing with me. At the end, he’s not going to untie me and tell me how I’m the best little soldier under his command.

But I can’t help the natural response I have to this moment.

“You’re pathetic,” Nikolai says. His voice is deeper, harsher than I remember. He has more anger in him now than he did training me.

I wonder if Heinrich utilizes that rage or if he’s oblivious to it.

“I’m not the one who had to tie a girl up to beat her.”

That earns me another slap and a growl.

“Enough,” Heinrich says. “Leave us.”

The light remains in my eyes, and I rely on my other senses to figure out how many have left the room. I hear only one pair of feet circle around to my left side.

“Where did you go, Miss Vincent?”

Let the mind games begin. “You can’t break me.”

“And why is that, Miss Vincent? Do you believe your mind superior to any other?”