The Operator Read online

  Peri slowed, wary as Jack ran up the stairs ahead of them. “No, just once,” she said, then jerked Harmony to a halt when Jack waved for them to stop and continued upstairs. “I don’t like working alone, and you deserve the chance to bring in the bastard who killed your team.” Peri looked at her, taking her eyes off the upper door leading to the lobby. “He did, didn’t he. I’m sorry.” She wouldn’t say I told you so, but she had.

  A myriad of emotions passed over Harmony’s face until she forced her features to a blank nothing. “Thank you.”

  Peri turned away, seeing Jack at an upper door, peeking through the tiny window. “Besides, I don’t trust anyone but you right now. Hang on. My spider sense is tingling,” she said.

  “Babe!” Jack hissed, gesturing for them to stay hidden as the screech of an opening door serrated the quiet.

  Pulse fast, Peri pulled Harmony deeper into the shadows as a clatter of feet and masculine excitement spilled into the stairwell. They were going up, though, and Harmony’s eyes widened.

  “That’s the lobby door. We would have been right there,” the woman whispered, and Peri’s shoulders drooped when Jack waved them forward. “How did you know they were going to be there?” Her eyes widened. “Are we in a draft? Are you going to forget? Should I tell you what just happened?”

  “No. I, ah, must have heard them coming,” Peri said, not knowing what to make of Harmony’s innocent enthusiasm. Grimacing, she cautiously started up the stairs again. “You’re really good. Who taught you hand-to-hand?”

  “No one special, but my brother taught me how to be smart in a fight, and that’s the most important thing. How about you?”

  Peri couldn’t help her faint smile. “I got my basics from an old guy named Cavana. I was, like, twelve.”

  Wary from the near miss, Harmony slipped up the stairs beside her. “Tall? Little goatee, liked to crack his knuckles?”

  Peri looked askance at her. “You know him?”

  Shaking her head, Harmony looked out into the lobby through a crack in the door. “I saw him do a demonstration once. You got to work with him? He’s good.”

  “You’re better,” Peri said sourly, rubbing the back of her head.

  Harmony shrugged. “Like I said, I had one dumb-ass older brother.”

  “Oh, good God!” Jack complained. “Are you women done fluffing your respective egos? It’s like you’re shoe shopping or something.”

  Peri frowned, that rank smell worsening as the propellanttainted air tried to find escape through the stairwell. Harmony tensed, pointing as the guy at the front desk left his station, arms across his chest as he stood at the edge of his domain and watched the three men they’d seen on the stairs jog down the hall with two fire extinguishers. “You set a fire?”

  “No. I overcooked a plastic plate in the break room microwave.”

  Jack snickered, and Harmony edged the door open. “Okay,” she whispered, eyes alight as they found the door guard. “Black SUV at the curb. I’m driving. Key is on the dash.”

  Head beside Harmony’s, Peri looked at the huge vehicle waiting in the early-morning light. It would be easy to spot and even easier to stop with the right computer. “How long has it been since you updated your car’s antitheft software?”

  “It’s Steiner’s. He had it modified,” she said, beaming as she patted her sidearm, then handed her a building key. “I’ve got Steiner’s building card as well. That’s what took so long.”

  “Sweet!” Maybe they had a chance after all.

  Behind her, Jack rolled his eyes. “After you,” Peri said to cover her embarrassment, and the taller woman eased the door wider and slipped out, holding it until Peri edged through and quietly shut it. Peri’s first anchor had been a woman. She’d forgotten how easy it was to work with someone who wasn’t distracted by a body full of testosterone, the subliminal text of casual conversation easing the task at hand.

  But her mouth dropped open when Harmony hesitated at the oblivious door guard, then signed the logbook, complete with date and time leaving.

  “I like her style,” Jack said.

  “So do I,” Peri admitted, light on her feet as she jogged to the podium and ran the card to open the door.

  The guard turned when the podium wished the absent Mr. Steiner a good morning. “Hey!” he shouted, and Peri flipped him off before smacking the lockdown button and rolling under the quickly dropping fence behind Harmony.

  “Whoo, that was tight!” Harmony exclaimed as suddenly three men were at the downed gate, trying to lift it. Someone took a shot at them and everyone hit the floor, cursing the idiot when it ricocheted off the bullet-resistant glass.

  Harmony slid across the wide bench seat, starting the car and shifting into drive even before Peri had her door shut. “Go!” Peri shouted, feeling a pang when they took off, leaving Jack at the curb. He was a hallucination, but it still felt wrong.

  “Where are we going?” the young woman asked, horn blaring and car swaying as she took a quick right and bounced through a busy intersection, cars honking and brakes squeaking in their wake.

  “Detroit.” Snapping her belt across her hips, Peri looked behind them at the chaos. They had three, maybe four minutes’ head start. Doable, if Harmony had an exit strategy.

  Harmony looked across the wide seat at her. “Are you kidding? You could have made some excuse about needing to see Dr. Denier and been there tomorrow!”

  Peri’s lips pressed together and she hung on as Harmony took a tight turn. “I don’t have until tomorrow. I have twelve hours.” She looked at the dash. “No, sixteen.”

  Harmony whistled. “Damn, girl. You like cutting it close.”

  “You said we were leaving in an hour.”

  Hand raised and wiggling to say she was sorry, Harmony navigated St. Louis’s rush-hour, gathering traffic drones as she ran reds.

  “How long did that take to plan?” Peri asked in admiration, then stiffened as Harmony wove through the slower vehicles and gunned it.

  “An afternoon for the timing on the plastic in the microwave,” she admitted, touching her hair to look embarrassed. “I did that last week. Then a few hours to get access to the vid room to see where the cameras were. Can you get the drones for me? I’d rather not be on the news.”

  “But you couldn’t have known you were going to need a way out back then.” Peri took Harmony’s Glock when she handed it to her. She checked the magazine, shifting in her seat to roll the window down. Cool air blew in, pushing her hair into her eyes.

  Harmony took a quick right; the drones followed, still trying to get close enough for a shot of the plates. “I thought it good to know.” She hesitated. “Hold on,” she warned, one hand on the wheel, the other beeping her horn as she ran a yellow.

  Peri stuck her head out, squinting at the drones as they caught up. Two pops and they dropped into the street. More horns blew as they came crashing down, and grinning, Peri levered herself back in place, eyebrows raised in the question of whether Harmony minded if she kept it.

  Harmony shrugged and Peri stuffed it in her pocket beside her diary. “Do you like the train?” Harmony asked, pace slower now that they’d lost their drone escort.

  Our way to Detroit? she wondered. “Please tell me it’s an express.”

  Head shaking, Harmony slowed even more, impatient as she leaned forward, looking past the slower traffic until she took a sharp left into a side alley amid the Dumpsters and stacked cardboard. “Nope. It stops in every town.” Putting the car into park, Harmony studied the dash for a moment, then turned off the lights. Behind them, three black cars raced by. “But we’re not taking the train,” she added as she carefully backed up and returned the way they had come. “I changed Steiner’s plates with those belonging to a black SUV at the depot parking lot. They’ll be checking every stop, diluting their search. You’ve got a new ID under the seat. We’ll have to stop somewhere to get a pair of boots, though.” Her eyes went to Peri’s slippers. “Unless you like those.”<
br />
  Which explained why she wasn’t worried about drones after Peri had taken down the two that had tagged them earlier. Curious, Peri stretched to find the ID, holding it awkwardly to catch the early-morning light to read AMY SMITH. It would do. It looked like her senior yearbook picture. “Okay. I’m impressed.”

  Harmony grinned. “The IDs were the hardest part. I’m going to pay for that later. Where are we going, other than Detroit, I mean?”

  The reality of what they were going to do came rushing back. “The arena,” Peri said.

  “The arena?” Harmony echoed, eyes wide. “Why not a nice safe war zone?”

  Peri put an elbow on the windowsill, her fist against her mouth and her focus blurring at the passing buildings. Even with Harmony’s help, the chance that she was actually going to walk away from this with Allen and Evocane was low.

  Why not, indeed?

  CHAPTER

  FIFTEEN

  Bill’s worry was a light thread through his mind as he traversed the short underground hall from the building’s parking structure to his new office, the emotion not so much as troubling as a goad, urging him onto his next goal. The damage from Michael’s . . . innovative interrogation techniques had unexpectedly been cleaned up by the CIA, and his information again had value. Which was fortunate, seeing as he’d already used funds he didn’t quite have yet to take possession of the top floor of a small office building just outside Detroit. He could see ways to improve function and design, but he wasn’t willing to spend the money to implement them. If all went well, he wouldn’t be here long—and that was better than okay.

  “Rodney,” he said to the doorman in passing, pleased he remembered the man and getting a respectful nod in return. There’d been a time when everyone from the receptionist to the garage attendant had been an Opti agent waiting for advancement into active duty. Relying on rented personnel made internal security a living hell, but he was starting to appreciate the mobility it gave him.

  The elevator was there and open, but he took the stairs, pleased his breathing was slow and even when he reached the fifth floor. “Hammon,” he said in greeting to the floor’s receptionist, smiling when the man scrambled to his phone, probably to alert his personal secretary he was on his way in.

  Feet thumping on the faded carpet, he strode past the vacant offices and silent break room, empty since he took possession. It was just the highly skilled and irreplaceable who were left. He had fewer drafters since Peri had blown the whistle on the corruption in Opti and they had slipped like water through sand, but his fingers were on the pulse of the few who remained, and he knew them well enough that he thought up their schemes before they did. They might be gods, but he had made them and they were his to control.

  “Margo,” he said pleasantly as he pushed the scarred door open and walked into his outer office. “When you’re done with your Danish, will you see if Helen is available to take my return call?”

  “Yes, sir,” the older woman said as she threw her napkin away before reaching for her outdated but efficient Rolodex. He’d almost gone with a younger woman fresh out of college and the latest gadget on her hip only to be shocked to find that the effectiveness of shorthand and a cup of coffee on his desk in the morning more than made up for the lack of a pretty face. She’d known how to fix the outdated intercom that had come with the place, too.

  Shutting his door behind him, Bill stood at the wall-size window overlooking the medical campus his temporary offices were situated on. The Detroit River was a sterile white ribbon cut with black at its center, where tankers kept it ice free. Solar arrays and surrounding buildings reflected the rising sun to give a feeling of light and purpose. Cars moved and drones flitted above them, but the green spaces were gray and dead in the bitter, dry cold, making Detroit look more like its original core of industrial steel, hard and unforgiving.

  From here, with the ever-evolving skyline of Detroit as a backdrop, it was easy to pretend nothing had changed, but it had. The nine facilities bloated with government money were long gone. His backers had dwindled to one, and she was growing impatient even as she continued to invest heavily in his promise that he could take the anchor out of the equation and create a more productive drafter. And yet, with everything he lost, there was an undeniable excitement he hadn’t felt since he first made the decision to divert funds, then agents, from their government tasks.

  It had gotten too big and he’d somehow become an administrator. Small was better. Smaller would be even more so.

  Maybe I should give some serious consideration to becoming Peri’s anchor.

  “Sir?” came Margo’s voice from the ancient intercom. “Ms. Yeomon is on the line.”

  Adrenaline jumped. Turning from the icy vista, he strode to his empty desk. Everything he needed was in his laptop. “Helen!” he said cheerfully, careful to hide his Bronx accent as he picked up the land-based phone. “If I had known you were going to call this morning, I would have arranged to be available.”

  There was a click as Margo hung up, and he glanced at the tiny light on his state-of-the-art phone. The line was secure as a cell phone could never be.

  “It’s not a problem, Bill,” Helen said, her low, mature voice laced with confidence. “Your time is spread as thin as mine. I’ve had a chance to go over Peri Reed’s progress, and I have to say I’m excited your goal to bring her in is moving forward. She’s been accelerated, yes?”

  “Halfway, ma’am,” Bill said pleasantly, beginning to pace. “She is currently AWOL from WEFT and on her way to Detroit to meet with one of my representatives. Though I was unable to accelerate her, there’s no reason for her not to do it herself, seeing as she’s hooked on Evocane.”

  “That you have her working again is encouraging,” Helen continued. “Even if it’s against us, for the moment.”

  His pace bobbled. “She will come back, ma’am. We made her.”

  “As you say,” the woman agreed. “I called to find out if you’re comfortable with discontinuing the maintenance of the earlier live trials. A tidy house is a strong house.”

  Discontinuing maintenance? She meant shredding five years of records and euthanizing an entire wing of people he’d kept near comatose for nearly as long. “Yes, ma’am,” he said evenly. “The faulty wiring has been seen, too. I was waiting for your approval.”

  “Mmmm.”

  He knew her reluctance wasn’t because of the lives in the balance. Striding to the wall, he waved the environment controls awake, turning the air-conditioning on as he loosened his tie.

  “Has Reed drafted since she was on the Evocane?” the woman asked lightly, and he heard the sound of shifting pages.

  “She has, ma’am, and Peri appears to be maintaining a stable mentality even with the additional stress.”

  “Fine,” Helen said decisively, and Bill exhaled in relief. That wing made him uncomfortable. “Discontinue maintenance and destroy the records. I’ll look forward to your continued reports.”

  Shit, she is going to hang up. “Ma’am, I’d like to broach the subject of Michael again,” he blurted, cringing when she exhaled. There was a soft rustle of papers, and a faint “Thank you, Chris. May I have some privacy, please?” He held his breath, feet still on the worn carpet.

  Finally she came back. “You know I value your instincts, Bill. What are your concerns?”

  He sighed in relief, not caring whether she heard it. “Michael has continued to show himself as inventive and tenacious, becoming an even more valuable asset.”

  “I’m glad to hear that.”

  Nervous, he began to pace again, trying to get that damned breathiness out of his voice. “His loyalty remains to himself, which I’ve begun to adjust accordingly,” he rushed to say before she could interrupt again. “His innate recklessness, however, is an increasing issue. Bringing Peri back has brought it to a head and it needs to be addressed.” He took a slow breath. It was time. It was more than time. “Decisively,” he added.

  “You’ve
made me aware of his tendencies,” Helen said, the clink of a teacup clear in the background. “You assured me they could be used.”

  “They can,” he rushed, wiping his brow. His Opti ring caught his hair, sending a surprising jolt through him when it pulled free. “And this is why I’m bringing it to your attention. Dr. Denier is attempting to reverse-engineer the Evocane, a task that will take him at least two years and far more than the amount Peri escaped with. I can’t risk her. Not now. I’ve already arranged to get her a new, clean supply to give her the time she needs to come back to us willingly.”

  The click of the teacup came again. “You think she will come back within the week?”

  “Absolutely. We’re in an excellent position. She’s remembering herself, and once accelerated, she will eagerly stretch into a new, better skin. It was her reliance on an anchor she couldn’t trust that held her back, and with that gone, the lure of her past will be irresistible.”

  “And you want me to . . . approve of your plan?” Helen questioned, and he almost panicked. The woman hated micromanaging. He’d only succeeded in making himself look weak.

  “No, ma’am. My concern is Michael. He is the logical choice to get a new supply of Evocane to her without her suspicions rising. She wants to apprehend him for the CIA, and she will show just for that reason. My concern is that Michael might decide at the last moment to eliminate her.”

  “Remove Michael from the program,” Helen said, and his eyes widened. “Find another way to get her Evocane to her.”

  “Snuff him?” he exclaimed, scrambling to fix this. He needed Michael. It wouldn’t work without him. “Ma’am, there’s no need to eliminate Michael. He only needs—”

  “No.” It was decisive, and Bill grimaced, scrambling for a way to bring this back. “I’m not risking my investment on a drafter’s jealous whims and paranoid delusions.”

  She had nailed it perfectly, but he had to have Michael for the rest to work. “Ma’am.”

  “Are you arguing with me, Bill?”

  He wiped the sweat off his face, not liking it was there. “No, ma’am. But Michael has skills that Peri will never have and can’t be introduced at this late stage. The very same traits that make him unreliable and difficult to work with are extremely valuable and will dovetail into what Peri will balk at. I’m confident he can be brought back into line if I can make him feel valued. He is, for all his faults, a drafter.”