The Glorious Becoming (61 page)

Stepping past and away, the scout-turned-contractor made her way out of Confinement.

* * *

S
COTT WAS LEANING
back in his chair when Boris’s knock came to his door. He had instructed the technician prior to leaving their quad to get dressed and deliver an update to his own quarters—something tangible to indicate Boris’s progress. With things getting as unstable and dangerous as they were, Scott was past the point of simply trusting Boris to get things done. He needed to see results. With every hour that passed, Scott’s brain reaffirmed the notion that this mission needed to end as quickly as possible. Tugging on a white t-shirt, Scott opened his door to find Boris on the other side. Motioning for the technician to step in, Scott closed and locked the door behind them.

“Ready for my update, commander!”

“Voice down,” Scott hushed.

Nodding enthusiastically, Boris began setting up his kit. “So some of this, I have already explained to you. I will try to be simple and brief. If one wanted to tap into The Machine, one would need to break through numerous levels of encryption from several different private vendors, all with their own guardians and convertors. In addition, one’s skill must be incredibly advanced. And if you are caught,” he made a face, “you know
Novosibirsk
.”

“Cut to the chase.”

Boris said nothing. He only grinned and tapped away at his portable terminal. After several seconds, he struck one final key.

The lights shut off. Even beneath the door, in the outside hall. Scott’s heart leapt as the emergency lights kicked in. Then, barely a half-second later, the lights returned to normal. Wide-eyed, Scott stared at Boris. The technician was still grinning.

“What in the hell was
that?”
Scott asked lividly.

Boris leaned toward him. “With this kit from Antipov, I can do
anything
here. Everything is set up. I am in their network, past their guardian, beyond their interceding—”

“That’s great, but holy
scat
, Boris!” whispered Scott. “They’re going to trace that blink to you!”

Raising a finger, Boris said, “Wrong, wrong! I broke through the firewall of their administration system, found the name of their power supplier, then used it to notify them in advance of an impending power blink due to a sub-station transfer.”

“What?”

“I pretended to be their power company. I told them to prepare for a momentary blink as routine work happened, explaining it would not even be long enough to make their generators kick in. Pretty good, right?” the technician asked merrily.

Scott slapped his forehead. “Boris! And what happens when they get in touch with said power company? What happens if they ask how the transfer went, or when the next one’s going to happen, or who they can speak to about more advanced notification?”

The smile on Boris’s face fell. “Oh. They will probably not do that. I think.”

“You
think
? We can’t risk ‘you think!’ I’ve already got scouts losing their ponytails, B, I don’t need someone screwing with the utilities!”

“Hmm.” Folding his arms, Boris stroked his beard. “We are not very good spies.”

Tap-tap-t-tap-tap. Tap! Tap!

Boris’s eyes widened wildly as he whipped to the door. “They are onto me!”

“No, you idiot,” Scott said. “That’s a Natalie knock.”

“Oh.” The technician went into primp mode.

Scott hit him. “You’re not staying. You and I were doing a one-on-one post-mission review.”

The Russian looked bewildered. “We were? But I came here to show you about hacking—”

“No! I mean—that’s our cover. It’s our
cover
, Boris.”

“Oh!” Boris nodded. “Right, I understand.”

Walking to the door, Scott rehearsed his words. A short, formal explanation would give Boris a proper reason for being there, and a prompt exit. He would greet Natalie with completely normal professionalism. Nothing would be conspicuous at all.

He opened the door.

Scott barely had time to register the wine glasses in Natalie’s hand, or the massive smile plastered across her face, before she literally pranced into his room.
“We did—”
The word
it
never had a chance to come out. Eyes locking onto Boris, Natalie snapped upright in an awkward, abrupt attention, nearly stumbling over in the process. Clearing her throat, her voice cracked. “Trooper Evteev.” She darted the wine glasses behind her back. Her cheeks turned bright red. “You guys see that power dip?”

Boris stared in an enamored stupor.

“Mister Evteev and I were just finishing a one-on-one mission review,” said Scott. “It’s our traditional way of closing out missions.”

“Oh.” Natalie said, trying her utmost to save her dignity. “That’s very good. Very effective.”

Scott eyed Boris. “But we were just wrapping up.”

“Yes.” Boris said, mesmerized. “We were just wrapping up.” The technician stood motionless.

Scott’s brow furrowed purposefully. “...and now you can go.”

Boris nodded. “Yes. Now you can go.”

“
You
can go, Evteev.”

Snapping from his fantasies, Boris nodded hastily. “Yes! Yes, captain, and commander. I will go. Thank you for reviewing with me.” Gathering up his things, the Russian made for the door. Only when Boris had completely left the room did Scott lower his guard.

No one needed to prompt Natalie to lower hers. Closing her eyes, she leaned her head back and groaned. “That was the most embarrassing thing that has happened to me in my entire life.”

Laughing, Scott went into immediate friend mode. “If that’s true, you’ve had a good life.”

“It never even crossed my mind that someone else might be in here.” Tossing the wine glasses on his bed, she covered her face.

“Hey—it’s all right. No harm done.” Her face remained flushed as she offered him a sheepish smile. Laughing softly, Scott motioned her to him. “All right, come here. Get it out your system.”

She beamed and offered him a high-five that felt strikingly like it would have been a hug, had her entrance not been interrupted. “We did it. That’s all I wanted to tell you, that we did it. That’s harmless, right?” She made a loud
ugh
sound. “He saw me carrying wine glasses.” Leaning back, she tucked her hair behind her ears. “I’m still red, huh?”

Scott smirked. “Yeah, you’re pretty red.”

“I don’t want you to get the wrong idea, either.” She tucked her hair a second time. “I just have to celebrate! I couldn’t with Logan, that’d be too...weird. I thought, you know, me, you, a little champagne to set the mood. Of celebration!” she quickly corrected. “The mood of celebration.”

He angled his head just slightly.

Blowing up the hair on her forehead, she said, “I should probably...” She pointed briefly to the door. “I feel like maybe, this is giving off a signal. I don’t mean to you! I mean, in general, to...the unit.” She glanced at the door again. “I should go.”

Being honest with himself, Scott had to admit that seeing her flustered and lost for words was, well, cute. This was a side of her no one else in the Caracals was allowed to see, maybe not even Logan.
She’s so much like Nicole.
He had thought that about her since their date at Sabola. The way she talked, the way she carried herself, her personality. It was...

...attractive.

Wandering to his bed, she collected the wine glasses. “Okay. So, we’re clear, right?” She pointed back and forth from his eyes to hers. “We should celebrate with the rest of the unit. Take them out to...eat. Or work out. Eat, then work out. Except, the other way.” She looked away and blew out again. “I will exit now.” She saluted. “As you were.”

Laughing on the inside, he returned the salute.

A track star couldn’t have made it to the door as quickly as Natalie did. She was practically bolting. Backing out the open doorway, she waved. “I’ll see you later, Scott—Commander Scott.
Remington
.” She began to close the door quickly, disappearing from view.

“Do you want to go out tonight?” Scott asked. He hadn’t even thought about it—the question just blurted out.

She swung the door back open. “If you want to.”

“Eight o’clock. Outside, by the garage.” A stroll in the Egyptian moonlight. That’d be nice to see.

“Great.” Her smile stretched from ear-to-ear. “I’ll see you then!” She shut the door again.

Scott stood by his bedside for several seconds after she’d left, his mind awash with thoughts.
I just asked Natalie out.
It had been an impulse—something completely unrelated to their mission. Something he’d just wanted to do. Because she was so much like Nicole. Slowly facing his nightstand, he stared at Nicole’s photo. She was smiling at him. Like she always did.

I’m not here to be with the Caracals. I’m not here to help Natalie grow. I’m here to find the truth and to save Svetlana. But even here, so far away from everything I know...I can’t get away from you.

Her blue eyes sparkled within the boundaries of her frame, her forever epitaph—
I love you!
—staring him down.

I can’t get away from you.

A relationship with Natalie Rockwell was everything wrong. Impractical to their mission. Impossible in reality. Irresponsible as his cohorts’ tactical leader. Yet he was asking her out—asking her to walk with him under the Egyptian moonlight. Beneath the stars. And it had nothing to do with Natalie at all. He was chasing a ghost.

Faith had brought him to EDEN. EDEN had brought him to
Novosibirsk
. What was driving him in
Cairo
? Walking to his nightstand, he picked up the photograph and held it face-up. Emotions always swelled when he did that. It was the closest he’d ever come to holding her again. To ever hearing her voice. To never letting go. Longingly, he closed his eyes.

“Scott.”

It wasn’t a real voice. But he heard it just the same. He had heard that voice say that name countless times, and for years. It was forever ingrained. Chill bumps broke as he felt her touch against his back. Her arms wrapping around him. Her warmth.

She’d loved him. More than any woman ever had. Losing her had devastated him on every level. It had turned him into someone else.

Her head was against his shoulder from behind, her chin resting right beside his ear. She held him so closely. As if she was there.

As if she was really there.

Scott’s mouth opened, a shuddering exhale that cut through his core. Tears brimmed beneath his lids. There was no Nicole Dupree. There would never be a Nicole Remington. Those things—those hopes—were in the past, just like the voice and touch he was imagining now weren’t really there.

Scott’s mind turned to
Novosibirsk
. To the smiling blonde who’d forsaken her future for him. Who’d returned there, for him. Who did everything for his betterment, with the promise of nothing in return. Who loved him
now
. Those ocean blue eyes. The bluest he’d ever seen. Svetlana knew Scott in a way that not even Nicole had. Nicole had never seen the dark side of him. There was no way to imagine how she would have reacted to it. But Svetlana knew. She knew his anger, his violence. His lack of faith. His total lack of a commitment to her. Yet she still loved him.

There’d been no opportunity for Scott to go to Nicole’s funeral. The closest chance he’d had to lay her at rest had been in the hangar of
Novosibirsk,
watching as a box with her body inside was loaded onto a plane. There’d been no sermon, no lowering of a casket. No closure.

Everything came out. The sobs, the heaves. The future he’d clung to for so long that could never be. The ghost he continued to chase, whether her name was Nicole or Natalie. The destiny that never happened. That was maybe never meant to.

Offering Nicole a final look—just long enough to allow his teardrops to find her—he carried her across the room to his closet. Kneeling down, he pulled out his duffle bag.

He laid her to rest.

The mission was important. Potentially game-changing. It had to be accomplished. But if Scott was honest with himself, he’d spent more time trying to figure out his own emotional state than he had focusing on the rescue of their target. Did that make him a bad leader? No. That made him human. But things were about to change.

No more leading Natalie on. No more “it’s for the good of mission” phony justification for chasing the image of a girl who’d passed away. No more clinging to the past. He would deal with the captain of the Caracals in the same way he’d felt led to on their night out at Sabola. He was going to tell her the truth. About H`laar. About
Novosibirsk
. About everything.

Tonight.

For the rest of that morning and afternoon, the five transplants from
Novosibirsk
, for the most part, kept to themselves. Esther did provide a briefing to Scott and the others about her discovery of Centurion. Though Scott was initially discouraged about the loss of H`laar, the fact that they had located H`laar’s bodyguard—and that said bodyguard had information to help their cause—was enough to lift the spirits of the group. It was counted as an alternate victory, but a victory nonetheless. The next step was formulating a plan to extract him to
Novosibirsk
.

Boris took his technician’s kit to the various consoles of
Cairo
, poking and prodding at their firewalls and network security, finalizing his efforts. Auric explored the halls of the Anthill alone—an attempt, albeit small, to be tactically useful.

As for Esther and Jayden together, they made their way through the labyrinths of
Cairo
until they found its crowded, near spa-caliber pool. Most of Esther’s time there consisted of laying her head poolside atop her folded arms, staring absently as Jayden stayed beside her, his arm draped over her shoulder as she fell away in thought. Her date with Giro Holmes, an unsettling yet necessary affair, was later that night. She had much to mentally prepare for.

Only Scott approached the evening with any sense of serenity. Enveloped in an aura of newly-defined purpose, the Golden Fulcrum prepared for his date with Natalie. His aggression had directed him since the day he’d murdered Sergei Steklov. It was about to direct him again—in a way that was good. He would be aggressive in telling Natalie the truth. Damn the torpedoes. Full speed ahead. In a matter of hours, everything would take place.