Freak (14 page)

Visions of his body being flung across the room, of a giant fireball exploding out the side of the building, of Gaia's limp, dead form, flashed across his mind's eye.

The Roller Coaster

JAKE FLATTENED HIMSELF UP AGAINST
the wall of the hallway outside Yuri's apartment, feeling once again like he was in the middle of a Vin Diesel movie. After what had happened here the last time, he had expected to be peeing in his pants from fear, but he was strangely calm—excited, but calm. Maybe he was getting used to this stuff. Maybe he even had a future in the spy game.

How cool would that be?
Jake thought, trying not to smile. This was not an appropriate situation for smiling.

Tom signaled to Jake and Gaia to stay put and stay quiet, then nudged open the broken door with his toe. He took a few steps inside, inspecting the area. Jake glanced at Oliver, who gazed back, his cool blue eyes telling Jake to take it easy—be patient.

Suddenly Tom reappeared in the doorway.

“Let's go,” he whispered.

The team tromped through the door and into the apartment. Jake paused before entering, looking both ways down the hall to see if anyone was lurking, but there was no movement.

When Jake walked into the apartment, Gaia, Oliver, and Tom were standing in the living room, taking in the scene. Blood dotted the floor
around the smashed coffee table. The men he and Gaia had knocked out, however, were all gone.

“Fan out,” Tom said, sweeping his arm toward Jake and Gaia. “I want to get this over with. Bring us anything that looks suspicious.”

“I got the bedroom,” Jake said, heading for a closed door near the back of the apartment. Oliver followed as he carefully stepped over a few bills and envelopes on the carpet, in case they were important, and grasped the brass doorknob. He opened the door and was about to walk in when he heard a click and a beep.

“Stop!” Oliver shouted, causing Jake's heart to jump.

Jake was about to pull his hand away from the doorknob, but Oliver touched his arm, stopping him.

“Don't move a muscle,” he told Jake.

Jake swallowed with difficulty. He wanted to ask what the hell was going on, but he was afraid to open his mouth. Oliver dropped to the ground, turned on his side, and slid through the space between Jake's legs and the door.

“What's going on?” Tom asked, approaching them with Gaia close behind.

“It's C4,” Oliver said, shining a tiny flashlight up toward the top of the door. “It's wired from the wall down to the doorknob. He moves, it blows.”

Jake's knees wobbled dangerously and he pressed his eyes closed. He'd seen enough spy movies
in his lifetime to know that C4 was a seriously nasty explosive. Visions of his body being flung across the room, of a giant fireball exploding out the side of the building, of Gaia's limp, dead form, flashed across his mind's eye.

Oh, no. He really
was
going to pee in his pants.

“How much?” Tom asked.

“Enough to take off the top of this building,” Oliver said. “But it's a rudimentary device. Not a problem.”

Jake liked the sound of that. He opened his eyes and saw Oliver pull a pair of clippers out of his utility belt. Then he reached up with the flashlight toward Jake.

“What?” Jake asked.

“You'll need to hold this with your other hand so I can see what I'm doing,” Oliver said.

The beads of sweat along Jake's hairline organized themselves into one large rivulet and danced right down the center of his nose. He was sweating, he was shaking, and he wasn't sure how much longer he could hold on to the doorknob, let alone the flashlight. He looked down at Oliver helplessly, feeling like the useless wuss he clearly was.

“You can do it, Jake,” Gaia said in his ear, her voice firm and full of confidence. It was also completely devoid of fear. Apparently when she knew she was about to be blown to bits she didn't let it bother her.

Jake nodded slowly. He grasped the flashlight in his sweaty fingers. Oliver guided Jake's hand until the light was pointing where he needed it to be. Jake's heart hammered in his ears and he found himself silently praying—something he hadn't done once since his mother died. He'd kind of had a problem with God since then.

Oliver cut the casing off the red wire and looked at the circuits inside. Then he did the same to the green wire, and the blue. Jake held his breath. If this was such a rudimentary device, then what the heck was taking so long?

“Got it,” Oliver said, once the circuits inside the yellow wire were exposed.

He placed the wire-cutters around the circuits and Jake waited for his life to flash before his eyes, but it didn't. All he saw was his mother's face, then his father's, then his mother's, then his father's. His dad was going to be really pissed at him if he died and left him all alone.

Then Jake heard the clip and the door swung free of his grasp. He sucked in a breath, still alive.

“See? No problem,” Oliver said, holding the door open.

Jake stumbled into the room and fell onto the bed, his knees finally giving out. He felt an overwhelming urge to cry, but the second Gaia stepped into view he squelched it. He'd already proven himself to be
enough of a wimp right in front of her face. He wasn't going to be a blubbering baby as well.

“You okay?” Gaia asked, standing in front of him.

“Fine,” Jake replied, pressing his hands into the bedspread. “Can't say the same for my ego.”

Oliver and Tom headed back out into the living room and Gaia sat down next to Jake, a few inches away. “I should've never asked you to come here,” she said.

“You didn't. I volunteered,” Jake reminded her, pushing both hands into his hair.

“But I didn't try to stop you,” Gaia said. She looked down at her clasped hands between her knees. “That's not like me.”

“And it's not like me to stay behind no matter what you say,” Jake replied. He took in a long, shaky breath and let it out in a loud burst of air. “But I gotta say, I'm not so sure if I'm cut out for this stuff. Five minutes ago I was James Bond and now I feel like I left my spine somewhere in the living room.”

He hung his head, ashamed, the rapid beating of his heart pounding in his ears.

“What, you think you're some kind of loser because you got scared?” Gaia asked.

Jake scoffed. “You have a way with words.”

He saw Gaia flush out of the corner of his eye and smiled slightly. “Jake, you wouldn't be
human
if you weren't petrified by what just—”

Gaia abruptly stopped talking and looked away. Her jaw clenched and he could see her fighting something off—something she didn't want to think about. So maybe she was affected by the idea of being blown to bits.

“You're gonna be fine,” Gaia said, standing—averting her gaze. “Let's get back to work.”

There was something she wasn't telling him—Jake could sense it—but now was not the time to ask. He could hear Oliver and Tom crashing around in the living room, searching. The longer they stayed here, the longer Yuri was out there, free to plot whatever he was plotting. Jake made himself stand up and start moving.

While Gaia searched the closet and dresser, Jake rifled through the drawers in the bedside tables, which were empty except for a few pencils, a pair of glasses, and an old watch. He dropped to the floor and looked under the bed. There was a bunch of random stuff shoved underneath the mattress and he started pulling it out. A sleeping bag, a pair of tall rubber boots . . . and then his hand hit something hard.

Jake's pulse seized up as he yanked it free. It was a laptop and it looked like someone had taken a sledgehammer to it. The screen was mangled and half the keyboard had been smashed to bits, but the hard drive was still inside.

“Check it out,” Jake said, standing. He set the
computer on the bed as Gaia crossed the room in two long strides.

“Dad!” she shouted, excited.

Tom and Oliver had entered the room in less than a second. Together they all gathered around the laptop, knowing this could be what they were looking for.

“Where did you find this?” Tom asked.

“Under the bed,” Jake said. “Look—whoever destroyed this thing wasn't paying much attention—the hard drive is still intact.”

“So it is,” Oliver said, picking up the computer and inspecting it. “Which means we should be able to extract whatever is on it.”

“Good job,” Tom said, clapping Jake on the back.

Gaia smiled and Jake felt himself relaxing—grinning even. Suddenly all his fear and shame were washed away, replaced by the pride of accomplishment.

“See?” Gaia said. “You're fine.”

“It's a roller-coaster ride, kid,” Oliver said with a small smile. “But you'll get used to it.”

He thinks I'm good,
Jake realized.
He thinks I can do this for real.

Tom clapped his shoulder again and Jake followed the others out of the room, practically glowing. Oliver was right. Excitement followed by dread, followed by sickening shame, followed by elation and pride. It was a roller coaster. And Jake could definitely get used to the ride.

Bliss

GAIA AWOKE TO THE SMELL OF
frying bacon and was sure she was still dreaming. Breakfast was usually courtesy of Dunkin' Donuts, Krispy Kreme, or, every now and again, McDonald's. She couldn't remember the last time breakfast had actually been made in this apartment. If ever.

A city bus squealed to a stop somewhere on the street below and it knocked Gaia out of her groggy state. She sat up, everything suddenly rushing back to her—the storming of Dmitri's . . . no,
Yuri's
apartment in the wee hours of the morning. The argument she'd had with her father over her going to bed (she wanted to stay up, he insisted she get some rest). Gaia whirled around to look at the digital clock. It was 10:07. She flung the covers aside and headed for the kitchen.

“Morning!” Oliver said from the head of the dining room table.

He was sipping a cup of coffee and tapping away at a computer keyboard. Before Gaia had reluctantly hit the hay, he'd linked Yuri's smashed hard drive to Tom's PC to see if he could get something out of it.

“Anything?” Gaia asked, yawning hugely.

“I'm getting there,” Oliver replied.

“Gaia! Want eggs?” her father asked, appearing at the window between the living room/dining room and the kitchen. Gaia's stomach grumbled loud enough for him to hear. Oliver and Tom both chuckled.

“I'll take that as a yes,” her father said, disappearing again.

Gaia walked over to the doorway to the kitchen, her bare feet slapping against the hardwood floor. She was about to lambaste her father for letting her sleep so long, but when she opened her mouth, nothing came out. Seeing her father, standing there at the stove, pushing eggs around with a spatula, she was suddenly overwhelmed.

This was it. This was the moment she'd been waiting for for over a year. It was a regular Sunday morning. She was still in her pajamas, her father was making breakfast in a pair of jeans and a worn-in sweater. This was normalcy.

“I made them dry, just how you like 'em,” her father said, turning around with the frying pan in his hand. He took one look at Gaia and paused. “You okay?”

“I . . . ”

She had no idea what to say. Part of her wanted to grab her father and hold on to him, partially to make sure this was really happening and partially to make sure he wouldn't get away again. But that was far too melodramatic. So instead she just stood there, wringing the hem of her oversized T-shirt between her hands.

Gaia's father's face softened. He walked over to her, leaned down, and planted a kiss in the middle of her
forehead. Gaia, in that moment, felt bliss.

“I know,” he said with a smile. Gaia smiled back. He did know.

“I've got something!” Oliver called from the dining room.

Gaia forgot about breakfast and rushed back to the table. Tom dropped the frying pan back onto the stove and followed. They took position behind Oliver at the computer screen, which was filled with a list of numbers and letters.

“What is it?” Gaia asked.

“It's a list of coordinates, I believe,” Oliver said. “Each line seems to have a set of longitude and latitude coordinates embedded into it.”

“Cells of the Organization?” Gaia asked, glancing at her father.

“Could be,” he replied. “Could be fronts or safe houses . . . ”

“Or targets,” Oliver said ominously. “We have no way of knowing. And there are hundreds of them. It would be impossible to check all of them out.”

Gaia swallowed, a feeling of helplessness settling in over her shoulders. When she'd first heard Oliver's psyched tone, she naively thought he'd figured out exactly where Yuri was, but it could take months to decipher this list—figure out what it meant and whether it was useful.

“So what do we do now?” Gaia asked, looking from her father to Oliver and back again.

Her dad stood up straight and rolled his shoulders back. “I may just have an idea.”

So Close

TOM STRODE DOWN THE DIMLY LIT
hallway leading to Natasha's glass-fronted cell, feeling more focused than he had in years. He was close—he could feel it. All he needed was one more piece of the puzzle to fall into place and he would have Yuri. The nightmare would be over, once and for all.

Now he just had to convince Natasha to give him that last piece, to show him how it all came together.

Tom paused in front of the transparent wall and watched Natasha rise from her cot and approach the glass. A line of tiny holes ran across the front, right at mouth level, so conversations could be had through the bulletproof substance. Tom pulled the list of coordinates and other random numbers out of his breast pocket and slapped it up against the glass, the printout facing the prisoner. For a moment, neither of them moved.