The Gambit (69 page)

“Natasha and I can hack into the EPA’s system,” Grey blurted, looking around at all of us. “Just so we can keep an eye on everything.”

Natasha smiled in reaction to his statement.

“That sounds like a good idea,” she agreed.

“Do you know what would make the payback even sweeter?” Viktor asked Lucas.

“What?”

“If we sent all of my files to Ian from one of the fax machines at the EPA.”

“That will be a blow to their gut,” Natasha chuckled. “Sending the truth from the same agency that helped cover it up.”

“Exactly,” he said, smiling. “After everything they have put me through, I would love more than anything to be the one that pulls the trigger…but I think we all know Rachel deserves to do the honors.”

I pursed my lips and gave them a nod. No words were needed.

“All right then,” Lucas said. “Let’s get to work. First, I have to contact Megan.”

I shoved my hands deeper in my jacket pockets. The wind was blowing against me. It wasn’t even winter yet, and I was already ready for summer. After nearly a decade of living here, the mid-Atlantic winters had worn out their welcome. Everything felt dead. I walked between the tables outside of the restaurant that were normally filled with people in the summer, but now were vacant. I could already see the red glow from the lights inside.

This was one of Megan’s favorite restaurants, apparently. It happened to be one of mine too. I opened the door, and the warmth enveloped me. There were abstract shapes of red, orange, and white placed along the walls. The whole vibe was contemporary. I was bombarded with the intoxicating smells of ginger, curry, and the brininess of soy sauce. A mix of cooked meats wafted through the air along with it. My stomach trembled at the thought, and as I rounded the hostess stand, my stomach trembled at
another
thought. Would Megan help us?

She sat in a booth by herself, nervously playing with her fingers. Her platinum-blonde hair was perfectly straightened, and it rested at her chest level. She spotted me, and I didn’t know what to make of her expression. It was a mix between she had expected me, or that she was going to throw up. She nervously glanced around at all the tables around us. I sat down.

“Megan,” I said, giving her a nod.

“Lucas,” she replied with the same gesture.

“How have you been?” I asked. I wanted to start off casual and let her settle into the conversation. She pursed her lips and revealed a sardonic expression.

“As good as you can be knowing that you handed over the most confidential files of the twenty-first century to a CIA agent, and that at any moment you-know-who might come after me and my family.”

My gut twisted from her words.
Veronica
.

“That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about.”

She raised an eyebrow in curiosity and pulled her interlaced fingers closer to her side of the table.

“Before you go any further,” she began, “do you mind footing the bill?”

I cocked my head in surprise.

“Well, I guess so now that you asked. Why do you seem so blasé about asking someone you’ve only met twice to pay the bill?”

A satisfied smirk slid across her face.

“I have a feeling that you will owe me, because you are going to ask me to help you with something. Even though I don’t yet know what that is, I feel a tasty meal should suffice as payment.

“Deal.”

Suddenly our waitress popped out of nowhere.

“Hi! My name is Kim, and I’ll be serving you tonight,” she chirped. Her oriental eyes were almost slits, and her teeth were impossibly straight. “Can I get you guys something to drink?”

“I’ll have a shot of the house vodka and some sparkling water, please.”

“Of course, and for you, sir?”

“I’ll take a diet Coke.”

The waitress smiled.

“All right, I’ll bring that right out t—”

“I’m actually ready to order,” Megan cut her off.

“Oh, okay!” the peppy waitress said awkwardly. “What would you like?”

“I’ll have the sushi sampler. Make them all vegetable, California, and spicy tuna rolls. Ooh, actually, switch out the vegetable roll for a Philadelphia roll. I’d also like the pad Thai chicken curry plate, extra spicy, please.”

“Good choice,” she said, smiling. “Are you ready to order, sir?”

I was still staring at Megan wide-eyed. Had she not eaten all day?

“I will have the same entrée she had, without the extra heat.”

“Okay, sounds good! I will be back with your drinks and your sushi.”

She darted off and I stared back at Megan.

“What?” she snapped. “I had a rough week.”

“I can tell,” I teased.

“You look like you need a shot,” she cocked her head in my direction.

“I’ll probably need one after I tell you why I am here.”

“Aha,” she chuckled. “After hearing you say that, maybe I need two more.”

I rolled my eyes. The waitress reappeared.

“Here is your shot and sparkling water,” she said as she set them down. “And your diet Coke, sir. Your food will be out in just a little while, is there anything else I can get you while you wait?”

Megan shook her head no before I had the chance to answer. She walked off.

“So,” I began. She held her index finger up.

“Wait.”

She turned the shot glass filled to the brim with vodka skyward, and her face puckered up after she downed it. “Ahh,” she breathed out. I could smell the liquor from across the table. She took a sip of her sparkling water and set it back down.

“Okay, now tell me what you need my help with.”

“By the way. I was going to ask you, how did you know I needed something?”

She tossed her hair over her shoulder.

“Because that’s the same thing you did when you came to me the first time.”

I snorted. “Well played.”

She took a deep breath in and out. There was something about her that seemed tense. Our waitress walked past our table.

“Excuse me,” Megan put out her hand to signal her. The waitress stopped. “Yes?”

“Can I have two more shots of vodka?”

My brow furrowed from her request. We were here to talk about something important, not to get drunk on my tab.

“Yes, I’m going to grab this table’s order and I’ll get that right to you.”

Megan turned back to me with a vacant face.
Something
was up, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. She was beyond stressed the day at her office when she had her breakdown, but before she opened up to me, she hid it quite well. Now, it was almost like whatever was going on inside of her was breaking through the surface. There were faint bags under her eyes concealed with makeup. I decided to wait and feel her out. I wouldn’t throw the news on her this second.

“How was work today?” I asked.

She slanted her head and glared at me dumbfounded.

“God awful,” she said. “How about yours?”

“The same. Just a little better now that Veronica isn’t around as much.”

“Lucky for you, because now she’s back at mine more,” she griped. “I’d rather gouge my eyes out than have to see her one more day.”

“I know the feeling,” I consoled. “When do you work next?”

She squinted quizzically.

“Why?”

“Because it has to do with what I came here for.”

Her eyes darted over my face cautiously.

“Monday,” she said.

Monday—the day of Veronica’s meeting.

I caught myself beginning to smile.

“Here they are!” the chipper waitress announced in a singsong voice as she set down Megan’s two shots. “Your food will be right out!” The moment she stepped away Megan downed the shot. She shivered after the first, and then immediately did the second. This time, she didn’t chase it with anything. She just slid the shot glasses to the edge of the table and looked up to meet my eyes. Her eyes glazed over as the buzz from the alcohol began to kick in. Her face was blank, almost stoic. In her blue eyes, I saw so much pain it almost made me turn the other way.

“Megan, is everything all right?”

“Do I
look
all right to you?” she countered flatly.

“No,” I said. “Not at all.”

Her lower lip quivered, and I noticed her chest kept heaving up and down.

“Well, I’m not. Like I said, I had a really rough week. I’ve been a wreck since Owen died.”

She pressed her lips together and covered her mouth with a closed fist, turning to face the window. Her forehead was scrunched together from trying to hold back the tears. If this was how Megan felt, I could have only imagined what Rachel was like that day.

“I—I’m sorry,” she hiccupped and took a sip of her water.

“You’re fine.”

I saw tears escape the corners of her eyes.

“I just feel so guilty!” she choked, suppressing her voice. I glanced around to see if anyone noticed her worsening condition. We were in the clear. “I mean, do you blame me for thinking that? Maybe if I would have told someone sooner he would still be alive,” she groaned. “I listened to
her
so I could stay safe, so nothing would happen to me. Owen wound up dead.”

She choked back another cry and wiped her face off with the napkin. I prayed our waitress didn’t bring out the food during this. It wouldn’t look good if the pushy customer she served three shots to was already bawling.

“It should have been me,” she said firmly. “It should have been
my
life, not his.”

I shook my head and tried to console her.

“No, Megan. It is bad enough he is gone. It didn’t need to be you. Don’t blame yourself. A life is a life. Be thankful that you
are
still here.”

“Why?!” she raised her voice ever so slightly and scowled at me. “Why would I want to be here? This country is fucked. I’m better off dead…and that’s the thing, that’s what you don’t understand. I spent
five
years
with Owen. I know him like the back of my hand, and you know what?
He
was the better person. He still had more to do in this world, Lucas. I was just a paper pusher at the EPA and he left it all behind to do something no one had done before, and he did it. I would have rather it been my life than his. My life
never
mattered. Now, I am left all alone and have nothing to do but wonder what I could have done differently…”

Her pain was so real that it was making my heart race. I could feel it across the table.

“Megan,” I said softly. I waited for her to compose herself.

“What?” she mumbled with her head tilted away from me, wiping her eyes again.

“There is still something you can do.”

She sniffled and then looked me straight in the eyes.

“Is that why you wanted to meet here? To instill me with some false hope?”

I shook my head side to side slowly.

“No, I came here to tell you a way that you can make your life
matter
.”

She squinted, studying my expression—trying to pick it apart.

“What do you mean by that?” she asked.

I motioned her to lean in with my fingers, and I was about to open my mouth when our waitress reappeared at our side. “All right, here’s your food!”

“Thank you so much,” I said. She disappeared a moment later. We each took a few bites of our food before I motioned to her again to lean in towards me.

“If you want your life to matter, if you want to contribute to a cause bigger than yourself, then please, hear me out.”

She nodded.

“You are going to help us take down Veronica Hall.”

She dropped her fork and it clung against the plate. Her eyes grew wide. Her expression frightened me because she looked so shocked. For a moment, I thought she was appalled by the idea…but suddenly, the surprised look began to fade away, and it was replaced with malice.

She nodded her head in agreement so slowly, I almost thought she was in a trance.

“Thank God,” I gasped. “Because without you, we wouldn’t have the capability of doing it. We have assembled a team. They are the same people that helped Owen, actually. For now, I will need to borrow your EPA ID. Come to my house late tomorrow night, I will give the ID back to you, and we will go over
the details of the plan. We have one chance and one chance only to do this properly. The election is a week and two days away. Our time is running out.”

Megan’s eyes were still glazed from the buzz, but her face was frozen in a maniacal smile. The resentment she felt towards Veronica was all too similar to my own.

“Megan,” I said, trying to jar her from her daze. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”