Resistance (Replica) (38 page)

To reduce the risks as much as possible, Nate and Nadia planned to arrive at Headquarters well before business hours. There would be security officers on duty, but between the remnants of Nadia’s knockout gas and the four guns they had between them, Nate figured there was a reasonable chance he and Nadia could get past those guards. Then all they’d have to do was ride the elevator to the top floor—assuming his father hadn’t changed the access code, but Nate saw no reason why he would have. Surely he wouldn’t guess that Nate would be so bold as to march into Paxco Headquarters.

By the time he and Nadia got into the Chairman’s office, someone would have notified the Chairman of their presence, and it would turn into a wait-and-see situation.

Kurt dropped the towel, instantly pulling Nate back into the present. Tomorrow might turn out to be hell, but at least for the few short hours until dawn, he would lose himself in Kurt’s arms and try to forget the rest of the world existed. His heart quickened at the thought. And wouldn’t you know it, when he slipped under the ratty covers and lay on the lumpy mattress, it felt better than the finest bed when Kurt slid in beside him.

*   *   *

Nadia
was way too wired—and too uncomfortable—to sleep. She’d never slept on the floor before, and she hoped she’d never have to do it again. The pair of mismatched sofa cushions she was using for her “bed” were woefully thin and harbored the faint scents of smoke and mildew.

Eventually, she gave up the effort, sitting up and wrapping her arms around her knees. On one side of her, Agnes was fast asleep, her body curled into a protective ball on her nest of cushions. On the other side, Dante sprawled in what looked like total comfort, although he’d only taken one cushion for himself and most of his body lay on the hard floor. Sleep softened some of the harsher angles of his face, making him look warmer and more approachable, despite his Ninja-warrior-black outfit. Nadia wondered what it would feel like to curl up against his body, to let him wrap those powerful arms of his around her.

The temptation to find out was so strong she forced herself to her feet and moved away, tiptoeing to one of the windows on the far side of the room. Turning her back on Dante, she leaned against the sill and peered out.

It wasn’t what you’d call a picturesque view. The bland high-rises of the Basement formed a wall of solid gray that kept visibility to a minimum. The street below was crowded and noisy, despite the fact that it was well after midnight. From above, the Basement-dwellers in their colorful, outlandish regalia looked rather like a group of seedy circus clowns gathering for a block party. Except when she looked more closely, the resemblance to clowns faded. The clothing, both on the men and on the women, was way too revealing, for one thing. And no one seemed to be having any fun, despite the occasional raucous bursts of laughter. Everyone out there was doing business of one sort or another, and their eyes were always searching their surroundings for a hint of danger. Danger one unfortunate man seemed to have found, as three Basement-dwellers descended on him and started beating him. No one paid them any mind, stepping around the altercation without sparing it a glance.

“There but for the grace of God…” Dante whispered, and Nadia swallowed a yelp of surprise.

She put her hand to her chest as if the touch could calm her suddenly racing heart. “You scared me,” she said.

“Sorry,” he murmured, sidling up behind her and putting his arms around her waist.

Her heart thumped for a different reason as Dante’s body pressed up against hers and he nuzzled her neck. It had been a while since he’d shaved, and his whiskers scratched in a way that was surprisingly sexy. She glanced over her shoulder to reassure herself that Agnes was still asleep.

“Behave,” she told Dante breathlessly, as his lips brushed against her skin.

“Why?” he countered. “If tomorrow goes badly, we may never see each other again. You don’t suppose Nate and Bishop are ‘behaving’ in that bedroom, do you?”

Nadia had no desire to speculate about what Nate and Bishop were doing. “But they
have
a bedroom,” she said, though despite her halfhearted protest, she found herself leaning into his warmth and stretching her neck to give him better access. They had had so little time together, so little opportunity to explore. She’d experienced her first real kiss with Dante, and she very much wanted more. But not when they had an audience, even if that audience was currently asleep. There was no guarantee she’d stay that way. “With a door that closes.”

Dante nipped lightly on her earlobe, and her breath caught in her throat. “There
is
a second bedroom,” he murmured. “And its door closes, too.” She swallowed hard. “Of course, there’s no bed in it, but we can improvise.”

Nadia shivered and her skin prickled with goose bumps. It was very possible she might die tomorrow. Tonight might be the only chance she ever had.

Dante’s arms tightened around her. “I’m not trying to pressure you,” he assured her. “I just don’t want you to let Agnes get in the way of what you want. Er, if you want it, that is.”

Nadia smiled, glad to know Dante wasn’t quite as smooth and confident as he’d been making himself out to be. But at least he knew what he wanted, which was more than she could say for herself.

Actually, that wasn’t true. She knew
exactly
what she wanted, and it was something she didn’t have: time. Time to take things slowly and see where they led. Time to figure out just how she felt about Dante and ease into the kind of relationship she’d never allowed herself to think about having when she’d been promised to Nate. Time to make a decision based on mutual desire instead of desperation.

Dante turned her around and cupped her face in his hands. “Sorry,” he said, then pressed a light kiss to her lips. He sighed. “I’m pressuring you whether I mean to or not.”

“No—” she started, but he silenced her with another kiss.

“If suggesting tonight might be the last time we see each other isn’t pressuring you, I don’t know what is. I’m being an asshole.”

Nadia smiled up at him. He was the perfect antidote to all the pain and ugliness that surrounded her, someone strong and thoughtful and honorable. The warm glow in her chest told her she could easily find herself falling in love with him. Or maybe she’d done that already.

“I’ve known more than my fair share of assholes,” she said. “You’re not one of them.”

Dante took both her hands in his and squeezed so tight it almost hurt. “Promise me you’ll come back to me. Promise … Promise you’ll win.” His voice was choked. “You have no idea how hard it is for me not to beg you to let Nate go alone.”

“Would it make it any easier to resist if I told you nothing’s going to change my mind?”

He sighed. “I already knew that.”

“I have every intention of winning,” she told him, putting every ounce of confidence she could muster into her voice. “This is
not
the last time we’ll see each other. I won’t let it be.”

Dante enveloped her in a hug, and Nadia prayed with all her being that she would be able to keep her promise.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Now
that Dante was in the resistance’s doghouse, he no longer had access to a car. Nate and Nadia didn’t dare take public transportation to get to the Headquarters building—way too much chance of being spotted and recognized. That left car theft as the only feasible alternative.

There were very few cars in the Basement—only the gang lords and drug kingpins could afford such an extravagance—which meant they had to obtain their vehicle from the low-rent Employee neighborhood that bordered the Basement. Nadia didn’t like that part of their plan one bit. Anyone living in that neighborhood who drove a car had either sunk his or her life savings into it or was driving a company-issued car and would have his or her pay docked if it went missing.

“We’ll just be borrowing it,” Dante assured her as he set out just before five in the morning to procure their ride. “The owner will have it back in one piece by the end of the day. And if Nate’s plan works, you’ll have enough money to more than make up for the inconvenience.”

Nadia didn’t mention that she also didn’t like the risk Dante was taking upon himself in venturing out to steal the car. However, he was the only one of the five of them who had the skills to pull it off.

“Be ready when I get back,” Dante said. “We have to move super fast.”

“Just go already,” Nate said irritably from the living room, where he’d taken to pacing like a caged animal. He didn’t like depending on Dante any more than Nadia did, only she suspected it was for different reasons.

Dante didn’t respond to Nate’s prodding, unless you could call the heady kiss he gave Nadia in farewell a response. Nate said something she was sure wasn’t complimentary under his breath.

“See you soon,” Dante said, and then he was gone.

Bishop parked himself by the window, leaning on the sill and looking out. Dante would signal with his headlights as he drove up, and Bishop would let Nate and Nadia know it was time to go. Agnes was back in her pink dress, huddled in a corner half-asleep. She had torn out a layer of petticoat from beneath the skirt and was using that petticoat as a makeshift shawl to keep her shoulders warm. The gel had not washed out of her hair as cleanly as Bishop had claimed it would, so her hair was baby-blanket blue. Nadia was desperately worried about what would happen to the girl if she and Nate failed. Dante and Bishop were both tough and strong-willed, with a heavy dose of streetsmarts to boot. They had a decent shot of protecting themselves if everything went to hell. Agnes, on the other hand, was spectacularly ill-equipped for a life on the run.

“Kurt and Dante will take care of her if need be,” Nate said practically in her ear, and Nadia jumped. She’d been so focused on Agnes she hadn’t even noticed him approaching.

Nadia slipped her hand into his and squeezed. “Let’s hope they don’t need to.” She met his eyes and saw the same combination of fear and determination that she suspected he saw in hers.

Nate resumed his pacing, and Nadia resumed her pointless worrying, until a few minutes later, when Bishop came to attention at the window.

“Showtime,” he told them, grabbing the thin sheet that he’d bundled up by his feet. The chances that anyone in Debasement would see them getting into the car, recognize them, and report them were incredibly low, but why risk it? They’d look weird running around with a sheet draped over them, but weird was better than recognized.

Nadia looked away, not wanting to intrude while Bishop gave Nate a kiss good-bye. Then Bishop helped drape the sheet over them so that it would hide their faces and as much of their bodies as they could manage, and they hurried down to the first floor to be ready when the car pulled up.

They made it into the backseat of the car without incident.

“Stay down,” Dante ordered them unnecessarily. They had already been over the plan about twenty-five times, and it involved eliminating any chance of anyone seeing and recognizing them before they reached Headquarters.

Nate squeezed himself into the tight space on the floor behind the passenger seat, while Nadia lay down on the backseat. They kept the sheet draped over them for maximum anonymity, even though it made the air feel stuffy and close. Or maybe that was just Nadia’s nerves.

“Are we completely insane to try this?” Nate muttered as the car bumped its way over the poorly maintained streets of the Basement.

Nadia shrugged. “Maybe. But I didn’t come up with any new options overnight, and I guess you didn’t either, so we’re kinda stuck with it.”

That was the last of the conversation. The ride soon smoothed out, the car having crossed the Basement’s border.

It seemed to take forever to get to Headquarters, though Nadia supposed it wasn’t much more than twenty-five minutes with the thin traffic of early morning. She couldn’t wait to get out from under the suffocating sheet and actually
do
something. The worry and anticipation were surely going to drive her insane if she had to stay still any longer.

“We’re only a couple of blocks away,” Dante said, breaking the long silence. “Get ready.”

Nadia patted the pockets of her much-loathed retreat uniform, making doubly sure she had her canister of knockout gas and the small gun she’d taken from Lily within easy reach. She heard Nate similarly patting himself down, then heard a soft click, which she gathered was the sound of him turning off the safety on Fischer’s gun. He was also carrying the gun Nadia had taken from the tower guard as a backup. She closed her eyes and prayed they didn’t have to shoot people who were just trying to do their jobs. But if that was what she had to do to protect herself and her friends, she was determined to do it.

“One block,” Dante counted down. Then, several seconds later, “I’m about to pull up to the curb. There’s one guy stationed by the door, and I see another sitting at the security kiosk.”

The Chairman’s private entrance was located at the back of the building, far from the public entrance and the historic art deco lobby. If the Chairman were inside, the security presence would be more substantial and visible, although even if the entrance were unmanned, the place was the next best thing to impenetrable. It would take a rocket launcher to get through the high-tech glass doors—unless you were the Chairman Heir and had access rights.

“Are you ready?” Nate asked.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Nadia answered.

“Yeah. Me too.”

The car slowed, and Nadia helped Nate pull the sheet off them so they wouldn’t get tangled up in it when they tried to get out. It was still dark, but the streetlights were momentarily blinding, and Nadia had to blink a few times to clear her vision.

Then the car came to a complete stop, and Nate sprang up from the floor and opened the door.

*   *   *

Nate
might have found the look of shock on the security guard’s face funny if his heart weren’t beating from somewhere in the vicinity of his throat. Behind him, he heard Dante gun the engine of his stolen car. Nate didn’t want the guard to pay attention to the car or try to get its license plate, so he pulled his keys out of his pocket, making it obvious he planned to enter the building with or without any assistance. He’d never had to unlock the door before—he barely showed up during working hours, much less when the building was locked up—but he knew he needed the physical key before he could trigger the retinal scanner, the fingerprint scanner, and the voice-recognition software. He would probably have looked more authoritative if he actually knew which key it was instead of shuffling through them indecisively.