The Revenge of Seven Page 17

  I sigh, simultaneously wanting to strangle him and kiss him. For a second, I’m not sure which instinct will win out. I want something more with Sam, I think. Eventually. I just don’t want to think about it right now. Last night was one thing, but now I’m back to fighting a war.

  ‘I don’t want the distraction, Sam. All right?’

  ‘Oh,’ he says, looking like I’ve just murdered his pride. ‘You mean, like you’d have to keep saving me from Mogs or stop me from stepping on some ancient Mayan spike trap or whatever. Because I thought we were past that. I can handle myself, Six. And I only accidentally shot you that one time in practice and –’

  I kiss him. Mostly just to shut him up and illustrate my point, but also because I just can’t help myself. I hear Nine make an oohing noise off to the side and make a mental note to destroy him the next chance I get.

  ‘That’s the distraction I’m talking about,’ I say quietly, my face still close to his.

  Sam is blushing again, and his mouth is still working like he wants to say something more. He’s probably trying to come up with some smooth way to say good-bye, but I’m sick of these drawn-out moments, so I take one last look at his sweet, dumbstruck face and turn away. A few seconds later, I’m strapped into the Skimmer’s seat next to Adam, ignoring the raised eyebrow and smirk Marina’s fixing me with.

  ‘Shall we?’ Adam asks.

  We nod and Adam throws some switches, handling the Skimmer’s controls with much more confidence than I did. As we slowly rise up, I look out the window to see Sam and the others below, waving good-bye to us. I wonder if my life will ever be without these moments – the painful good-byes before we all go off to risk our lives. John always talks about how much he can’t wait for some boring normal life, but would I be happy like that? We gain altitude, trees zipping by beneath us, and I think about Sam. If it wasn’t for this war, the constant chaos, we’d have never even gotten together. What would it be like for us without the looming threat of Mogadorian destruction?

  I’d like to find out.

  19

  Nine leans across me so that he can get a good look at Sam, saying to him in a stage whisper, ‘All right, dude. What’s the deal with you and Six?’

  Sam pointedly looks out the window of the van. ‘What? Nothing.’

  ‘Psshh,’ Nine snorts. ‘Come on, man. It’s like a four-hour drive to New York. You gotta give up some details.’

  In front of us, in the passenger seat, Agent Walker clears her throat.

  ‘Fascinating as I find the sex lives of teenage boys, maybe we could use this time to go over our operational parameters,’ she says dryly.

  ‘Agreed,’ I say, shoving Nine back in his seat so he can’t leer at Sam anymore. ‘We need to focus on the mission.’

  Nine frowns at me. ‘All right, John. I’m gonna focus my ass off for the rest of this car ride.’

  ‘Good.’

  Sam flashes me a grateful smile and I nod. Part of me really does think we should be thinking about the impossible odds we’re facing, but another part of me just doesn’t want to hear any details about Sam and Six. I’m happy for them, I guess. Glad they could find some comfort together. But I can’t get over the feeling that Sam is going to end up with his heart broken. I remember my vision of the future, the way Sam screamed right before the Mogadorians executed Six. Maybe that’s why I get the sinking feeling this is going to end badly.

  Or maybe I’m just jealous. Not because Sam hooked up with Six, but more because the love of my life is miles away. Of course, there’s no way I’m expressing any of that in front of Nine, or Walker and the silent FBI-guy driving the car. Yeah, let’s focus on the mission.

  We’re driving up I-95, from Washington to New York. Malcolm stayed behind at Ashwood Estates to finish going through the Mogadorian archives, hoping to turn up something else that might be useful. The vast majority of Walker’s renegade agents stayed back, too. They’re holding down the fort, using it as a base of operations to coordinate their efforts to undermine MogPro. I still don’t entirely trust Walker’s people, and I probably won’t ever reach that level after everything the government put us through, so I left behind our five remaining Chimærae with orders to protect Malcolm at all costs.

  Besides Walker and our driver, there’s another SUV filled with agents following along behind us. That makes a grand total of six agents, plus me, Nine and Sam. Not much of an army. But then, the war hasn’t started yet. Maybe, if everything goes according to my plan, it won’t start at all.

  ‘Secretary of Defense Sanderson is staying at a hotel in midtown Manhattan, close to the UN,’ Walker says. She glances down at her phone, which she’s been typing away on all morning. ‘I had a mole on his security team, but …’

  ‘But what?’

  ‘They were pulled this morning,’ Walker replies. ‘All his bodyguards, replaced by a new team. Pale guys in dark trench coats. Sound familiar?’

  ‘Mogadorians,’ Nine says, grinding his fist into his palm. ‘Keeping their pet politician safe before his big sellout speech.’

  ‘I think it actually works to our advantage,’ Walker says, looking at me. ‘My people weren’t looking forward to fighting through their own on the way to Sanderson. I mean, some of these guys are just doing their jobs.’

  ‘Yeah, we aren’t in the habit of fighting humans either,’ I say, giving Walker a pointed look. ‘Unless they make us.’

  ‘So, that’s the whole plan?’ Sam asks, skeptical. ‘We go to his hotel, fight our way through a bunch of Mogs and then kill this Sanderson guy?’

  ‘Yes,’ Walker answers.

  ‘No,’ I say.

  Everyone looks at me. Even our stoic driver is staring at me in the rearview mirror.

  ‘What do you mean, no?’ Walker asks, her eyebrows raised. ‘I thought we were clear on this.’

  ‘We’re not killing Sanderson,’ I say. ‘We don’t fight humans. We sure as hell don’t kill them.’

  ‘Kid, I’ll pull the trigger if you get me in front of him,’ Walker replies.

  ‘You can arrest him, if you want,’ I say. ‘Charge him with treason.’

  ‘The penalty for treason is death,’ Walker exclaims, sounding exasperated. ‘Anyway, his MogPro cronies won’t let an arrest go through. And you think anything in the courts is going to matter once Setrákus Ra is here?’

  ‘You said it,’ I reply. ‘Setrákus Ra is who’s important.’

  ‘Right. Instead of Sanderson, it’ll be you guys there to greet him at the UN. We’ll show the world the difference between good aliens and bad aliens. Meanwhile, behind the scenes, my people will dismantle MogPro.’ Walker rubs her temples. ‘I’ve got other agents already in position. Around the time we take out Sanderson, a dozen other MogPro traitors will –’

  I cut her off. ‘If you’re about to tell me about more assassinations, I don’t want to know.’

  Nine raises his hand. ‘I want to know.’

  ‘That’s not what we do, Walker,’ I continue. ‘It’s not what we’re about.’

  ‘Kid, you want to get the word out about the Mogs, sooner or later you’re gonna have to get your hands dirty.’

  ‘And what if Sanderson gets the word out for us?’

  Walker squints at me. ‘What’re you talking about?’

  ‘He’s giving a speech at the UN, right? Going to talk up Setrákus Ra, tell humanity how it’s safe to welcome the Mogadorian fleet.’ I shrug, trying to seem nonchalant about this, confident in my plan. ‘Maybe he gives a different speech. Maybe he delivers a warning.’

  ‘You’re talking about turning him?’ Walker exclaims. ‘This late in the game? You’re out of your mind.’

  ‘I don’t think so,’ I reply, glancing left and right at Nine and Sam. ‘My friends and I are pretty persuasive.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Nine jumps in, grinning fiercely at Walker. ‘I’m convincing as all hell.’

  Walker stares at me for a long moment, then turns around and goes back to typing coded m
essages into her phone. ‘I didn’t realize I was teaming up with some hippy-dippy peacenik aliens,’ she sighs. ‘Fine. If you can talk Sanderson into flipping sides in front of the UN, go for it. But if I’m not convinced, I’m shooting him.’

  ‘Sure,’ I reply to Walker. ‘You’re in charge.’

  We stop at a gas station in New Jersey to fill up the SUVs. Since I’ve got a few minutes alone, I decide it’s a good time to check in with Sarah. I take out my phone and wander across the parking lot. As I do, I can feel Walker’s eyes boring into my back.

  ‘Where are you going?’ she calls after me.

  ‘To call my girlfriend,’ I say, raising the phone. ‘Remember? You illegally detained her that one time.’

  ‘Oh, great,’ Walker replies. I can hear her mutter to the driver. ‘We’re depending on a bunch of horny teenagers to save the world.’

  Better us than people like Walker, I think, but pretend not to have heard her snide remark.

  The phone rings five times, each one causing my heart to beat a little faster, before Sarah answers, narrowly evading the dump to voice mail.

  ‘Before you say anything,’ she begins, not even saying hello, her voice shaky, ‘I just want you to know that I’m okay.’

  ‘What happened?’ I ask, trying to keep that first rush of panic out of my voice. I can hear the sound of traffic in the background. Sarah’s in a moving car.

  ‘We went into town for supplies and had a run-in with some Mogs,’ Sarah says, still catching her breath. ‘I guess they tracked us down somehow, not too happy about the They Walk Among Us thing. Don’t worry, we’re all fine. Bernie Kosar handled them.’

  ‘Are you somewhere safe?’

  ‘We will be soon,’ she replies. ‘Mark’s hacker buddy GUARD gave us directions to his home base in Atlanta.’

  Mark had some details about GUARD in one of his emails to Sarah. He’s another conspiracy junkie, like one of those guys from the old version of They Walk Among Us. But he’s also an excellent hacker and, according to Mark, has access to a surprising amount of information. It makes me a little nervous that Sarah and Mark are headed to meet him without us knowing his identity.

  ‘What does Mark know about this guy?’ I ask.

  Sarah repeats my question to Mark. I can’t quite make out his reply over all the noise from the road.

  ‘Mark says he’s probably some nerd hiding out in his mom’s basement,’ Sarah repeats dryly. ‘But that he’s a “solid dude” and that we can trust him.’

  I roll my eyes at Mark’s scouting report. ‘That’s heartening. Just in case, I’m going to text you the location of somewhere safe. It’s a base in Washington that we took over, loaded with government guys who are on our side. If you need somewhere to run to, you could head there.’

  I hear two engines rumble to life behind me. I turn around to see all of Walker’s agents piled into the cars. Nine and Sam still stand outside our SUV, waiting for me. Nine makes an impatient wrap-it-up motion.

  ‘What’s going on there?’ Sarah asks me. ‘On your way to do something stupid but possibly world saving?’

  ‘Pretty much,’ I reply, allowing myself a faint smile. ‘Did you get those documents I sent you?’

  ‘Yeah,’ Sarah replies. ‘We’ll have a chance to upload them once we’re in Atlanta.’

  ‘Perfect. I’ve got a feeling They Walk Among Us is about to get a lot more hits.’ I pause, reluctant to get off the phone. ‘The others are waiting for me. I’ve gotta go.’

  ‘Mark says to go kick some ass. And I love you.’ Sarah catches herself, laughing. ‘Mark didn’t say that last part. That was from me.’

  We say our good-byes and I’m left with that same feeling of longing mixed with dread that I get after every one of these phone conversations. I trudge back to the SUV. Everyone else is already inside except for Sam.

  ‘So you’re putting all of Walker’s documents on They Walk Among Us?’ Sam asks. ‘It’s a good idea. Like anti-Mogadorian propaganda.’

  ‘It’s a desperate idea, is what it is,’ I say glumly. ‘No one’s going to be digging through search results while their cities are getting bombarded.’

  ‘There’s a comforting thought,’ Sam replies, frowning. ‘But seriously, that’s a lot of heavy reading. If you’re trying to get people on our side, it shouldn’t just be about the Mogadorians. You shouldn’t just be trying to scare people. They’ll be scared enough as it is. You’ve gotta give them some hope.’

  ‘What do you suggest?’

  Sam thinks about it for a second, then shrugs. ‘I don’t know yet. I’ll come up with something.’

  I nod and pat Sam on the shoulder, the two of us climbing back into the car. I know he’s just trying to help, and that’s why I don’t tell him that whatever he comes up with … it might be too late.

  We make it to New York about an hour later. I’ve never been here before and neither have Nine or Sam. I wish our visit could be under different circumstances. As we inch along in heavy traffic through a canyon of skyscrapers, I find myself craning my neck to look out the window. Chicago is a huge city, but the frenetic jostle of pedestrians on the sidewalks here is something else entirely. There are flashing signs advertising Broadway shows, yellow cabs darting in and out of traffic, a hum of activity all around us.

  And these people have no idea what’s heading their way.

  As we drive farther uptown towards Sanderson’s hotel, we pass a dude wearing a cowboy hat and underwear, strumming an acoustic guitar for a crowd of tourists. Nine snorts.

  ‘Look at this,’ he says, shaking his head. ‘That shit wouldn’t fly in Chicago.’

  I lean forward to get Walker’s attention. ‘Are we close?’

  ‘A few more blocks,’ she replies.

  I reach down to make sure my Loric dagger is still fastened securely to my leg. I also touch my wrist, reflex telling me to check for my shield bracelet, except that it’s gone, destroyed by the General.

  ‘Did your guy on the scene tell you how many Mogs we should be expecting?’ I ask Walker.

  ‘A dozen. Maybe more.’

  ‘That’s nothing,’ Nine says, pulling on the gloves that Marina gave him. He clenches his fists and I inch away from him, wary that he’s going to accidentally trigger some kind of weapon. Thankfully, nothing happens.

  ‘You’re wearing those into a fight?’ Sam asks, eyeing Nine incredulously. ‘You don’t even know what they do.’

  ‘What better way to find out?’ Nine replies. ‘These Loric things, man, they have a way of not helping you until you’ve given up on them.’

  ‘Or maybe they’re just for keeping your hands warm,’ Sam suggests.

  ‘Just don’t do anything stupid,’ I tell Nine, and he stares at me, his expression getting deathly serious.

  ‘John, I won’t,’ he says. ‘For real. You can trust me out there.’

  I can tell Nine is still carrying around what happened down in Florida and is eager to prove himself. I just nod at him, knowing he wouldn’t want me to make a big deal out of it. I’m glad he’s got my back.

  Walker turns around to look at Sam. ‘These guys shoot fireballs and have magic gloves, apparently. But what do you do?’

  Sam looks momentarily taken aback, and I notice him reach down to touch the scars burned into his wrists. After a moment’s consideration, he looks Walker in the eye.

  ‘I’ve probably killed more Mogs than you have, lady,’ Sam replies.

  Nine elbows me, and I can’t help but grin. To her credit, that actually looks like the answer Walker was hoping for. She opens the glove compartment, pulls out a holstered handgun and holds it out to Sam.

  ‘Well, I’m officially arming a minor,’ she says. ‘Do your country proud, Samuel.’

  A minute later, our driver pulls over to the side of one of Manhattan’s quieter blocks, double-parking. The other SUV rolls up behind us. Across the street and down the block a bit is the entrance to a posh hotel. There’s a wide awning out front and a r
ed carpet, a place for guests to turn over their car keys to a valet and drop their bags on to one of the waiting luggage carts.

  Except there’s no activity outside the hotel. No tourists strolling the sidewalk, no valets waiting for tips. Nothing. Everything’s been cleared away or scared off by the trio of Mogadorians standing guard at the door, their coats brazenly open to reveal the blasters hanging from their belts.

  It’s like they’re not even bothering to hide anymore.

  ‘We want to do this quick and clean,’ Walker says to us, hunching low in her seat so she can look at the Mogs in her side-view mirror. ‘Take down the Mogs and get to Sanderson before they can send up an alarm, radio for backup, or whatever they do.’

  ‘Yeah, got it,’ I reply quickly. I pull up the hood on my sweatshirt so that it hides my face. ‘We’ve done this before.’

  ‘Let my people lead,’ Walker says. ‘We’ll flash some badges, maybe confuse them. Then you hit them hard.’

  ‘Sure, you distract ’em,’ Nine says. ‘But then get the hell out of our way.’

  Walker picks up a walkie-talkie and radios to the agents in the second car. ‘You guys ready?’

  ‘Affirmative,’ a male voice answers. ‘Let’s do this.’

  ‘Here we go,’ says an excited Nine, and claps his gloved hands together.

  The concussion of sound that detonates from Nine’s hands when he claps isn’t quite sonic-boom loud, but it’s definitely close. It’s like a thunderclap in the back-seat; all of the SUV’s windows explode outward, and the car even bounces a few inches into the air. The SUV behind us doesn’t fare much better – its windows also shatter, but inward, spraying the agents huddled inside. The windows of nearby storefronts break, too, and a pedestrian walking by is knocked clear off her feet. Next to me, Sam is squeezing the sides of his head, looking dazed. For the first few seconds, I can’t hear much except a low chirping that I soon realize is car alarms going off up and down the block.

  I turn to Nine, wide-eyed, and catch him staring at his gloved hands, also wide-eyed. I can’t hear what he says, and I’m not much of a lip reader.