The Operator
Page 79
The water was boiling, and Jack flicked the burner off. “Very funny. Ha-ha. You need me if for nothing more than to get close to Michael. Admit it. Once you get your Evocane, you’re going after him. I’m your ticket in.”
Silas eased into the kitchen to stand aggressively before Jack until he moved. “Is he for real?” he asked as he tore open two packets of coffee and filled the mugs with steaming water.
Peri shrugged, thinking the brewed coffee smelled old. “How much cash do you have? Everything I left under the silverware drawer is gone.” She took the mug as he handed it to her, grateful even as she felt guilty that he’d risked his life to find her—again. And she was going to ask for more.
“Few thousand, but it’s on my phone.” Silas’s nose wrinkled. “I’m not drinking this.”
“Caffeine is caffeine,” she said, wondering why Jack was standing before her bookshelves. “What are you doing? Hey!” she exclaimed when he reached for the photo of her on a Harley. That she didn’t remember it being taken bothered her, but not enough to throw it away.
“You need money, right?” he said as he took the back off and bills fluttered down to land on the faded braided rug. Great, he’ll never let me forget this, she thought as he gave it another shake before setting the picture down and crouching to collect the money.
“You’ve been tucking it away for years,” Jack said, his demeanor mild as he extended the bills to her. “A little every time you visited, depending on how fed up you were with Bill at the moment. You said when you got enough, you were going to quit and drive away, but you don’t remember that anymore.”
Setting down her coffee, she took the bills and made a rough count. “There’s enough here for two bikes,” she said, shocked, and Jack’s lips pressed together tightly.
“You noticed that, huh?” he said stiffly. “I’m going to do right by you, Peri. I promise.”
I was going to ride away with him, she thought, not liking that at all. But it did make one thing very clear. Her safe house wasn’t safe. Everyone, apparently, knew about it.
“We need to go,” she said, deciding her shower would have to wait. “Silas, you remember where I stashed the weapons, right?”
Mug almost lost in his big hands, Silas looked at the ceiling. “We bugging out then?”
“Yep. Soon as I change.” She looked at the coffee mug. “And maybe put that in a paper cup from downstairs.”
“Good.” Silas set his coffee on the counter and dragged the kitchen chair to sit right under the ceiling fan. “You want noisy or quiet?” he asked as he stood on it and carefully lifted a ceiling tile.
“Quiet.” Her knee was throbbing, but she ignored it as she gathered her clothes and headed for the bathroom.
“Noisy,” Jack added.
“You aren’t getting any,” she said, suddenly reluctant to enter the tiny bathroom. It still smelled like Jack’s aftershave, and in a surge of pique, she stalked to the yarn bag, dropping the half-knitted thing into the trash, needles and all. It was an Opti-sanctioned calming technique, and she was done with it. Done with Jack, done with knitting, done with it all.
Silas pulled his head out of the ceiling at the noise, and he and Jack exchanged odd, wondering looks. “If I’m coming with you, I should be armed,” Jack said hesitantly.
“You’re not coming with us,” Silas said, his voice muffled as he stuck his head back into the ceiling. “We’re going to tie you up and leave you here for Steiner.”
“You need me, Peri. You are not leaving me here!” Jack said, louder.
Half in and half out of the bathroom, Peri sighed. “No,” she said reluctantly. “We’re not.”
“Peri . . .” Silas complained as he came back down off the chair, putting two knives, a Glock, several magazines, clips, tactical sound bombs, and a handful of small-radius EMP grenades into her satchel and giving it a shake to settle it all.
Smug, Jack took a dollar out of his wallet and tucked it behind the frame as if it was seed money. “Suck it up, couch warrior. I’m more useful than you.”
But that wasn’t it. She might not be able to dump Jack in the trash like a ball of yarn and walk away, but she was not letting him back in her life. Not now, not ever. “No weapons,” she said, and Jack grinned as if he didn’t care. “No phone. If we feel like tying you up or locking you in a closet, you go without complaint. Got it?”
“Sure.” Jack flopped onto the couch to wait.
She retreated into the bathroom, unable to tolerate being in the bloody, filthy clothes a second longer if she had clean ones. Silas caught the door as it shut, clearly wanting a private word. “Don’t start,” she said, knowing just by the slant of his brow where his thoughts were.
“You’re going to leave him in the arena, right?” he said softly, his feelings of helplessness almost palpable.
Her eyebrows high, Peri slipped her hand behind his coat, watching him start when she took out the capped syringe. It was the accelerant, and her first flush of disappointment that it wasn’t Evocane was lost under a sudden desire to use it—become what she could be, something other than this broken thing that could be used. “Silas,” she choked, torn.
He covered her hand, glancing at Jack before angling himself deeper into the bathroom. “I didn’t bring it for you. I took it so Steiner can’t use it. It might help me create an Evocane substitute. It’s poison. You know it.”
She nodded, not liking the ugly feeling of want as he took it out of her hand and hid it away again. “You mind if I carry it?” she asked.
He resettled his coat about his shoulders. “I do, actually. Look, I know I’m not the best agent, but I can do more than bring you a new set of clothes and your phone.”
His belief that he was not fast or nimble enough to keep up cut her to her soul. “I don’t need his help. We need his help,” she said, cupping his face with his hand and drawing his eyes to her. Emotion plinked through her, and feeling uneasy, she looked over his shoulder to where Jack played with the remote. “At least for the moment.”
Silas let go, grimacing. “And the second we don’t, we leave him behind.”
“Absolutely,” she said, believing it to her core.
Silas eased into the kitchen to stand aggressively before Jack until he moved. “Is he for real?” he asked as he tore open two packets of coffee and filled the mugs with steaming water.
Peri shrugged, thinking the brewed coffee smelled old. “How much cash do you have? Everything I left under the silverware drawer is gone.” She took the mug as he handed it to her, grateful even as she felt guilty that he’d risked his life to find her—again. And she was going to ask for more.
“Few thousand, but it’s on my phone.” Silas’s nose wrinkled. “I’m not drinking this.”
“Caffeine is caffeine,” she said, wondering why Jack was standing before her bookshelves. “What are you doing? Hey!” she exclaimed when he reached for the photo of her on a Harley. That she didn’t remember it being taken bothered her, but not enough to throw it away.
“You need money, right?” he said as he took the back off and bills fluttered down to land on the faded braided rug. Great, he’ll never let me forget this, she thought as he gave it another shake before setting the picture down and crouching to collect the money.
“You’ve been tucking it away for years,” Jack said, his demeanor mild as he extended the bills to her. “A little every time you visited, depending on how fed up you were with Bill at the moment. You said when you got enough, you were going to quit and drive away, but you don’t remember that anymore.”
Setting down her coffee, she took the bills and made a rough count. “There’s enough here for two bikes,” she said, shocked, and Jack’s lips pressed together tightly.
“You noticed that, huh?” he said stiffly. “I’m going to do right by you, Peri. I promise.”
I was going to ride away with him, she thought, not liking that at all. But it did make one thing very clear. Her safe house wasn’t safe. Everyone, apparently, knew about it.
“We need to go,” she said, deciding her shower would have to wait. “Silas, you remember where I stashed the weapons, right?”
Mug almost lost in his big hands, Silas looked at the ceiling. “We bugging out then?”
“Yep. Soon as I change.” She looked at the coffee mug. “And maybe put that in a paper cup from downstairs.”
“Good.” Silas set his coffee on the counter and dragged the kitchen chair to sit right under the ceiling fan. “You want noisy or quiet?” he asked as he stood on it and carefully lifted a ceiling tile.
“Quiet.” Her knee was throbbing, but she ignored it as she gathered her clothes and headed for the bathroom.
“Noisy,” Jack added.
“You aren’t getting any,” she said, suddenly reluctant to enter the tiny bathroom. It still smelled like Jack’s aftershave, and in a surge of pique, she stalked to the yarn bag, dropping the half-knitted thing into the trash, needles and all. It was an Opti-sanctioned calming technique, and she was done with it. Done with Jack, done with knitting, done with it all.
Silas pulled his head out of the ceiling at the noise, and he and Jack exchanged odd, wondering looks. “If I’m coming with you, I should be armed,” Jack said hesitantly.
“You’re not coming with us,” Silas said, his voice muffled as he stuck his head back into the ceiling. “We’re going to tie you up and leave you here for Steiner.”
“You need me, Peri. You are not leaving me here!” Jack said, louder.
Half in and half out of the bathroom, Peri sighed. “No,” she said reluctantly. “We’re not.”
“Peri . . .” Silas complained as he came back down off the chair, putting two knives, a Glock, several magazines, clips, tactical sound bombs, and a handful of small-radius EMP grenades into her satchel and giving it a shake to settle it all.
Smug, Jack took a dollar out of his wallet and tucked it behind the frame as if it was seed money. “Suck it up, couch warrior. I’m more useful than you.”
But that wasn’t it. She might not be able to dump Jack in the trash like a ball of yarn and walk away, but she was not letting him back in her life. Not now, not ever. “No weapons,” she said, and Jack grinned as if he didn’t care. “No phone. If we feel like tying you up or locking you in a closet, you go without complaint. Got it?”
“Sure.” Jack flopped onto the couch to wait.
She retreated into the bathroom, unable to tolerate being in the bloody, filthy clothes a second longer if she had clean ones. Silas caught the door as it shut, clearly wanting a private word. “Don’t start,” she said, knowing just by the slant of his brow where his thoughts were.
“You’re going to leave him in the arena, right?” he said softly, his feelings of helplessness almost palpable.
Her eyebrows high, Peri slipped her hand behind his coat, watching him start when she took out the capped syringe. It was the accelerant, and her first flush of disappointment that it wasn’t Evocane was lost under a sudden desire to use it—become what she could be, something other than this broken thing that could be used. “Silas,” she choked, torn.
He covered her hand, glancing at Jack before angling himself deeper into the bathroom. “I didn’t bring it for you. I took it so Steiner can’t use it. It might help me create an Evocane substitute. It’s poison. You know it.”
She nodded, not liking the ugly feeling of want as he took it out of her hand and hid it away again. “You mind if I carry it?” she asked.
He resettled his coat about his shoulders. “I do, actually. Look, I know I’m not the best agent, but I can do more than bring you a new set of clothes and your phone.”
His belief that he was not fast or nimble enough to keep up cut her to her soul. “I don’t need his help. We need his help,” she said, cupping his face with his hand and drawing his eyes to her. Emotion plinked through her, and feeling uneasy, she looked over his shoulder to where Jack played with the remote. “At least for the moment.”
Silas let go, grimacing. “And the second we don’t, we leave him behind.”
“Absolutely,” she said, believing it to her core.
