Psion Omega (Psion series Book 5) (26 page)

Vitoria giggled and
rolled on her bed, stretching out lewdly, her hands now buried under her
pillow. “All guys think about me that way. Girls, too. Maybe you just need a
little more time to mull it over. Maybe next time you can bring your girlfriend
too.”

“No! I don’t even
know if there will be a next time. And if there is, I hope you’ll believe that
this is not a test. It’s not a game! Can’t you see I’m trying to be your
friend? That I want you to heal?”

For an instant
Vitoria looked like she wanted to kill Sammy, but she threw her book at his
face. Sammy jerked his head and let it fly past harmlessly. Disappointed, he
opened the door, then turned back to face her. “Geez, Vivi. What did they do to
you?”

Vitoria seemed to
have some snarky response ready to let loose but she bit it back, and for a
moment he saw fear in her eyes, and deep despair. This was different than the
other times she’d pretended to be small and vulnerable. Perhaps it was even
genuine.
Is that you, there, Vivi?
Hiding?

“What did they do
to me?” she repeated. She chewed her lip before finally answering,
“Everything.”

“I’m sorry.” A lump
settled in Sammy’s chest and his heart ached. “I wish I could take what I know,
what I feel, and just … put all of it in your mind and your heart so you could
have hope. But I can’t. All I can do is sit with you, talk, and try to help you
heal.”

“Just go.” When
Sammy didn’t move, Vitoria added, “Please.”

“Bye.” He tapped
the door with his fingers. When the door opened, Jeffie was standing outside
wearing a blank expression. Croz sat down the hall next to the guards at the
desk, watching from the security camera footage.

“Ooh,” Vitoria
said, instantly reverting back to her dominant sensual attitude, “your
girlfriend. She’s pretty. Did you see us kiss?”

Jeffie raised an
eyebrow. “I saw
something
. Looked
more like a puppy trying to lick ice cream off a child’s face.”

Vitoria laughed
snidely. “Jealous?”

“Not really. If he
liked it, he’d be blushing right now. I’m seeing more of a green tinge in his
skin.”

“Take care, Vivi,”
Sammy said.

When he closed the
door, Jeffie took his hand and gave it a squeeze. “You okay?”

“Yeah. I’m fine.”
He scratched his head. “I don’t get her.”

Jeffie snorted and
linked her arm in his. “I’m glad you don’t get her.”

“How did you know
she faked it, Sammy?” Croz asked when they reached the guard station.

Sammy shrugged.
“Instinct.”

“I talked to Anna
while you were in there. She’s going to sit in on the sessions starting
tomorrow morning. It’ll be better that way. No hard feelings.” He patted Sammy
on the shoulder as though that made everything better.

Sammy tried to act
nonchalant about the decision. “I just want to help her. No one cares about her
as much as I do … or understands as well what she’s been through.”

“I know,” Croz
said, “But it’s time to try a new face.”

Heading toward the
doors, Sammy let out a long slow breath and pulled Jeffie closer to him. “All I
get with Vitoria is walls. Why do people shut out those who try hardest to help
them?”

Jeffie raised an
eyebrow at Sammy. “I don’t know. Why
do
people put up walls between themselves and the people trying to help them?”

Knowing Jeffie
would want to drive, Sammy opened the driver’s side door for her and got in on
Lemon’s passenger side. “I don’t put up walls.”

Jeffie made an
exasperated noise with her lips. “Sammy, you’re the King of Wallmakers.”

Sammy thought about
that while they drove back to his place. When Jeffie parked Lemon, Sammy took
her hand in his. “I almost killed Brickert,” he whispered. “I attacked him like
a savage. I helped put him in that coma. And—and I don’t even have the
guts to tell him.”

Jeffie rubbed his
arm and ran her fingers through his hair. “You’ll tell him someday, when you’re
ready. And you know what? It won’t change anything. You guys are brothers. He
won’t even hold a grudge. Just tell him when you’re ready.”

Sammy pulled away
and rubbed his face. “Thanks.”

Jeffie smiled.
“Don’t mention it. Now … we have the rest of the day ahead of us to do whatever
we want. Should we call some friends over to hang or would you rather just make
out with me on your couch?”

They ended up doing
both. That evening, Kawai, Li, Strawberry, Natalia, and Brickert came over to
play games. They played late into the night. By the time it ended, Jeffie had
fallen asleep on the couch. Sammy covered her with a blanket and went to bed.

Late Monday
morning, he woke to the sounds of Jeffie rummaging through his dirty clothes.
“What are you doing?” Sammy asked her.

“I can’t find my
barrette. I gave it to you yesterday and you put it in your shorts. Remember?”

Sammy blinked
several times to clear the blurriness from his eyes. “Yeah. Check my pockets.”

“I did. I think it
fell out.”

“Don’t you have
more?”

“Yes, but I like
that one …”

Sammy dumped his
dirty clothes basket onto the floor and started throwing socks, shirts, boxers,
and other articles onto his bed one by one until he reached the end of the
pile.

“I must have lost
it. Sorry.”

Jeffie gave him an
exaggerated pout. “You have to help me find it. We’ll retrace all your steps.”

“I only went to the
Pen—” Sammy paused. In his mind’s eye he saw Vitoria staring at his
shorts, not his crotch like he’d thought, but at his pocket, tackling him,
pulling at him, kissing him. He cursed. “Vivi …”

Monday, September 1, 2087

SAMMY DASHED DOWN to the tunnels. He
had no idea if he was freaking out over nothing, but he prayed that Lemon would
start up without any problems. Croz and Anna’s session was supposed to have
started five minutes ago. Normally a drive to the Pen took fifteen minutes. He
made the drive in under ten, scolding himself every second of the way.

As he drove, Jeffie
sat beside him trying to reach Anna and Croz, but neither answered their coms.
Finally she reached the security office and had them patch a call through to
the guard station outside the cell, but even they didn’t answer. Sammy cursed
and punched down on the accelerator.
Don’t
do anything stupid, Vitoria. Please don’t do anything stupid
.

They pulled into
the lot, and Sammy jumped out of his seat. As he ran up the steps he could hear
a movie playing through the door to the Pen. The guards were always watching
movies. Behind him, Jeffie vaulted the steps, but Sammy didn’t wait. He banged
open the door, ready to act.

The guards weren’t
in their chairs. Sammy sprinted down the hall to Vitoria’s cell. One guard was
running toward Sammy yelling into his com, the other was fumbling with her keys
to unlock the cell. “Move!” Sammy roared.

The guard hurled
himself out of the way as Sammy blasted the door twice before the door burst
open. Vitoria lay on the bed, blood trickled from her mouth, her eyes closed.
Croz was on his stomach in a pool of blood.

“Sammy …” a voice
whispered from behind.

Sammy spun and saw
Anna on the ground, Jeffie’s barrette jutting out of her neck and between her
trembling fingers where she tried to staunch the flow from her carotid artery.
“She caught me off guard,” she breathed. “So fast.”

Sammy knelt next to
Anna and held her up, his hands fumbling to staunch the flow from her wounds.
He tried to think if there was a med pack nearby he could grab. Then he looked
at Jeffie and said, “Check the guard desk for a kit.”

As Jeffie ran back
down the hall, Anna tried to whisper again, but he shushed her. “You’ll be
fine, Anna. We have a mission to go on, remember?”

“So now you want to
go?” she chuckled, but it was a weak, hoarse thing. “I don’t think I’m gonna
last that long.”

“We’ll get you
patched up. You’ll be fine.”

Anna shook her head
very slightly. “I’m dead. You have to do it.”

“I can’t, Anna. I
don’t think I’m—”

“It has to be …
you.” She coughed weakly. “I’m your honcho … and I’m ordering you. Promise.”

Sammy’s face
screwed up. “No.”

“Promise,” Anna
growled and coughed up blood. “You are the one to do it. You were … born for
it. Pick your teammate. Pick the best. You
can’t
fail.”

Sammy couldn’t
breathe, couldn’t speak. She looked into his eyes. Blood spattered her pallid
face, covered her hands and arms, but her eyes were still so full of spirit and
command. He saw need there too. She depended on him. Her lips moved again, but
her voice was so faint, so quiet, he had to lean to hear her. “Promise me …”

Sammy still
couldn’t speak, so Anna continued. “I am a servant of the people. On my own
accord I declare my life is not … ” Anna’s voice trailed away. When Sammy
looked into her eyes again, the life had left them. He placed his hand under
her head and cradled it.

“ … my own. I will
give my mind, my strength, and my heart to the service of the government so
long as the government serves the interest of the people. With justice as my
strength, I will protect the freedoms and liberties to which my people have a
right. My life is not my own. I am a servant of the people.”

By the time he
finished, Anna had breathed her last breath. Jeffie knelt next to him though he
hadn’t heard her enter. Sammy set her down and whispered in her ear, “I
promise, Anna.”

Kill Vitoria
, a voice from inside commanded him.
It was so powerful and urgent that Sammy got up to do just that. He stepped
over Croz’s body to Vitoria who lay sprawled across her bed. The left side of
her face was now a purple, swollen mess, but her chest rose and fell shallowly.

One good blast will do it. Right to the neck.

The urge was strong
enough to make his hands quake, but Sammy did not bow to it. Instead he carried
Croz and Anna out of the room, closed the door, locked it, and pulled on it to
make sure it would still hold. As he did so, several members of the resistance
arrived, including Thomas and Lara.

Sammy stayed at the
Pen for three hours helping to clean up. Footage from the security cameras made
it very clear what had happened. Vitoria had waited until Anna was distracted,
and thrown the barrette into her neck. Then she grabbed Croz and tried to force
him to open the door. When he didn’t, she stabbed him with three expertly
placed paperclips that pierced his heart and aorta. Once she had a clear shot,
Anna blasted Vitoria into the wall hard enough to knock her out cold. Less than
a minute later, Sammy and Jeffie arrived at the Pen.

“I should have
known she had the barrette,” Sammy told Thomas and Lara. “I shouldn’t have even
had it on me.”

“It was a mistake,
Sammy,” Lara said. “Croz shouldn’t have taken the paperclips in either. We
weren’t vigilant enough.”

“You didn’t kill
them,” Thomas added. “She did.”

“I should have
known better,” Sammy continued, “but my pride, the thrill of the idea that she
wanted me … I should have seen.”

Dr. Rosmir was
attending to Vitoria’s wounds, when Justice arrived.

“Get off me!” the
Tensai shouted at one of the guards. In his hand was a gun.

“What are you
doing, Justice?” Lara asked.

Justice’s glasses
were askew, his face twisted in hate. “I’m putting the beast down. I said get
off me!”

“You’re going to
murder her?” Sammy asked.

“Execution is not
murder.”

“We need her,
Justice!” Lara argued.

“No. If Anna hadn’t
stopped her, she would have had free reign over the compound. She would have
exposed us. She’s too wild!”

Thomas rushed
Justice and shoved him against the wall. “Put that gun down!”

“She’s dead.” A
tear ran down Justice’s reddened cheek. “I need to do this.”

“She was dead
anyway,” Sammy said. “She was going to volunteer for the Rio mission. She
wanted to die.”

Justice pointed the
gun at Sammy’s face. “Shut up.”

“It’s true.”

Justice’s face
scrunched up and more tears fell. Thomas grabbed the gun from him and pulled
him into a hug. “It’ll be okay, son. It’ll all be okay.”

Justice moaned and
sank to the floor.

“We need to hold a
special meeting tomorrow,” Sammy told Lara. “Everyone invited—the
leaders, all the Psions, the Tensais, the Ultras, and the Elite. It’s time to
move our plan forward, focus the resistance, and tell everyone why Vitoria is
here. I’m afraid someone might do something rash if we don’t. And if it’s all
right with you and Thomas, I’d like to lead the meeting.”

Lara nodded numbly,
her eyes on Justice. Sammy found Jeffie and took her home. He did not sleep
that night. It wasn’t for lack of trying. In the wee hours of the morning, he
rose and jogged through the underground tunnels, hoping to clear his mind, to
embrace the death he knew was coming. He wondered who would volunteer to walk
with him into the dark valley. Part of him wanted no one to step forward.
Another part wanted two others to volunteer and relieve him of his duty. But
he’d made a promise and knew he would keep it.

Thomas, Lara,
Commander Byron, and Justice met Sammy in the meeting room an hour before it
was scheduled to start. Justice looked like he had gotten no more sleep than
Sammy. His eyes were dark red and swollen, his clothes and glasses still askew.
He glanced at Sammy as he sipped on a mug of coffee. “I’m sorry for the gun,
man. I—I never would have—”

“I’m sorry too,”
Sammy told Justice. “I know you—”

“Yeah,” Justice
said in a subdued voice. “You were right, though. She wanted it this way, though.
Wanted to go out in a blaze. That’s why we never … Anyway, she’s happier now.”

Sammy took a sip
from his own mug. “Yes, she is.” The weariness went deep in his bones.

Justice touched
Sammy on the arm. “Hey, you don’t have to be the one. She wanted you to do it,
yes, but you don’t
have
to.”

“I do.” Sammy said
it so matter-of-factly that Justice took a step back.

“Why?”

“Because I keep my
oaths.”

An hour later over
a hundred people filled the meeting hall. Sammy had been to many leadership
meetings for the resistance, the first one being in Wichita, when the
resistance members had given him a standing ovation. He received no such praise
now. He was no longer the scared kid he’d been. In fact, he felt no fear and
that worried him.

Jeffie gave him a
sad smile when she entered and took her seat with Brickert, Natalia, and the
other Psions. Word had spread among the resistance about what had happened the
previous morning, and the somber mood reflected that. Thomas opened the meeting
with a prayer and a short speech, explaining in full what happened to Anna and
Croz, and reminding everyone of the risk that the resistance’s work entailed.
Then he turned the time over to Sammy.

“The purpose of
today’s meeting,” Sammy began, “is a call for volunteers. Thanks to the data
recovered earlier this year and the hard work of the men and women who’ve
analyzed it, the leadership committee has prepared a plan of action that has a
chance to end the war. The move is bold and complex, and will require weeks of
further planning and preparation despite what we’ve already accomplished.

“After planning
this mission in subcommittees for the last few weeks, we feel it is time to
make a call for volunteers to enlist. Our planned day to strike is November 11.
Seventy days. Each one matters. Each one could mean the difference between
success and freedom or failure and its consequences. The NWG will join us in
our efforts led by Commander Havelbert and Ivan Drovovic.

“The offensive will
be executed in four stages. Stage one will take place six days before the main
strike. A team of resistance members will commandeer a major news station and
broadcast an invitation for CAG citizens to take up arms against the government
in Washington D.C.”

Sammy paused,
remembering the extensive debates they’d had in committees over the ethics and
hypocrisy of hijacking a news station to broadcast a message about terrorism.
In the end, the committee had ruled in favor of carrying out the mission so
long as no deaths occurred in the process.

“Extra care will be
taken,” Sammy continued, “to ensure that there are no casualties in this stage
of the plan. It will severely undermine our efforts if lives are taken while we
take the station. During the broadcast, evidence will be presented that the CAG
authorized and coordinated acts of terrorism on its own soil in order to
implement greater restrictions over travel and communication.

“Stages two through
four will all take place on the same day. Stage two will be comprised of a
joint strike on D.C., land and air. The attack on the capital will be real, and
hopefully massive, but its primary purpose will be to serve as a decoy while
other teams execute clandestine operations on specific sites. Successes in all
three stages are key to victory.

“Stage three will
take place in the territory of Brazil, including a covert op in Rio and an air
defense team in the jungle protecting the Hive from a potential CAG aerial
strike. Stage four will also be a covert op in Orlando with a select team of
operatives.”

Sammy paused,
trying to decide if he should say the words he had prepared. After a deep
breath, he continued. “It goes without saying that these assignments carry with
them great risk. Lives will be lost. Families will be separated. I can find no
example in history where tyranny has been overthrown and freedom won without
the shedding of blood. It will be no different in November.

“We need
volunteers, men and women; anyone sixteen and older who will follow commands
and be brave in the face of death and bloodshed. We need people who can shoot,
who can fly, who have medical training, but most of all, who love liberty.
Stage three, at the Hive, will need a team of skilled pilots in the air. Who
will lead this team?”

One hand went up
immediately. Its owner did not surprise Sammy. It was Kallen Dinsmore. Sammy
had served in Charlie Squadron with him. Kallen had saved his life.

“Kallen Dinsmore
has volunteered. Will anyone second this?”

“I second it,” said
Ludwig.

“His proposal is
accepted,” Sammy announced. “Who will volunteer to go with him?”

Many hands went up,
most of them Elite or older Psions, including Al. Notes were taken of the men
and women who raised their hands so Dinsmore could choose from among them.