Zane's Redemption
Page 103
“Ready for takeoff,” the pilot’s voice came through the intercom.
Zane fell silent until they were in the air. But the opportunity to talk to Thomas in private didn’t present itself because it was time to work out their action plan.
***
Samson’s connections assured that a safe house from which they could operate was available to them upon their arrival in Seattle.
Finding the location where Müller was holed up, wasn’t an easy task. Even though the partial phone number narrowed down the search to a specific neighborhood, there was still a large area to cover. While Thomas worked his magic on the computer to pinpoint Müller’s headquarters by way of elimination, Amaury used his expertise to dig into title records to search for evidence that Müller had purchased a property, rather than merely rented one. Zane made sure he scanned for all names, Müller or any of his known associates had used in the past.
During the day, the humans who had come onto the mission with him—Oliver, Nina, and two bodyguards—combed the area, but Nina raised a valid point: “We need a picture of Müller.”
“There was a picture in Portia’s wallet,” Zane remembered. “Shit, I didn’t think of that.” He hadn’t had a clear thought since the moment Portia had run off. Some bodyguard he was!
Gabriel’s hand came down on his shoulder, making him jerk his head. “Don’t worry, I know what Müller looks like. I’ll transfer my memories into Samson’s mind, and he can draw us a picture.”
Gabriel looked over his shoulder at his boss. “Isn’t that right?”
Samson nodded. “Not a problem.”
“I envy you for your gifts sometimes,” Zane admitted. Gabriel’s gift of being able to access anybody’s memories and transfer them to someone else was probably the coolest skill he’d ever seen in action. And the fact that Samson had a photographic memory and was an expert at painting and drawing, wasn’t too shabby either.
“You shouldn’t,” Amaury said from behind him. “Certain gifts can be a curse too.”
Zane nodded. Amaury’s gift of sensing everybody else’s emotions had been a literal headache until Nina had come along and healed him.
When nighttime traded with daylight once more, the humans ventured out and continued their search, checking out targets Thomas had picked for them. In the meantime, Zane was relegated to pacing. His feet carried him to the room where Thomas had set up his computers and was hacking into every system imaginable.
After a brief knock, Zane opened the door and entered.
“Hey,” Thomas greeted him.
“Hey.” Zane shifted his weight from one foot to the other while he shut the door behind him.
“What’s up?” Thomas asked without taking his eyes off the monitor.
“Can we talk?”
His colleague swiveled in his chair. “What about?”
“About what I said.”
“What did you say?” There was an uncharacteristic tightness in Thomas’ voice.
“About you and Eddie.”
Thomas stiffened and crossed his arms over his chest. “There’s nothing to talk about.”
“There is. I want to apologize.”
Thomas’ mouth dropped open.
“You heard right. It’s none of my business, and it was inappropriate.”
Thomas nodded slowly. “I guess none of us can choose who we are drawn to.”
“No. That’s why I shouldn’t have said it. It must be hard enough for you as is.”
Thomas gave a bitter laugh. “I curse the day I met him … Yet, if I could go back in time, I would still offer to be his mentor. Screwed up, huh?”
Zane shook his head. “You’re a good man, Thomas. I wish for you to get what you want, because I know how much it hurts not to.” He took an awkward step forward, not sure whether to hug Thomas or simply turn to leave.
His friend gave him a tired smile. “You know that I was the one who told Samson, don’t you?”
“It doesn’t matter. You did what you had to do. If the shoe were on the other foot, I would have done the same. No hard feelings.”
“No hard feelings.”
Thomas swiveled back to face the screen and Zane turned to the door. When he twisted the door knob, Thomas cleared his throat.
“I hope you get her back, Zane. I think she’s good for you.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Portia felt the hunger pangs getting worse. Her stomach clenched as she writhed on the bed she was still chained to, and her throat felt as dry as sandpaper. Her father had made good on his threat and was starving her to force her compliance. She’d long stopped crying. Disappointment about her father’s disregard for her feelings had made way for despair many hours earlier.
Zane fell silent until they were in the air. But the opportunity to talk to Thomas in private didn’t present itself because it was time to work out their action plan.
***
Samson’s connections assured that a safe house from which they could operate was available to them upon their arrival in Seattle.
Finding the location where Müller was holed up, wasn’t an easy task. Even though the partial phone number narrowed down the search to a specific neighborhood, there was still a large area to cover. While Thomas worked his magic on the computer to pinpoint Müller’s headquarters by way of elimination, Amaury used his expertise to dig into title records to search for evidence that Müller had purchased a property, rather than merely rented one. Zane made sure he scanned for all names, Müller or any of his known associates had used in the past.
During the day, the humans who had come onto the mission with him—Oliver, Nina, and two bodyguards—combed the area, but Nina raised a valid point: “We need a picture of Müller.”
“There was a picture in Portia’s wallet,” Zane remembered. “Shit, I didn’t think of that.” He hadn’t had a clear thought since the moment Portia had run off. Some bodyguard he was!
Gabriel’s hand came down on his shoulder, making him jerk his head. “Don’t worry, I know what Müller looks like. I’ll transfer my memories into Samson’s mind, and he can draw us a picture.”
Gabriel looked over his shoulder at his boss. “Isn’t that right?”
Samson nodded. “Not a problem.”
“I envy you for your gifts sometimes,” Zane admitted. Gabriel’s gift of being able to access anybody’s memories and transfer them to someone else was probably the coolest skill he’d ever seen in action. And the fact that Samson had a photographic memory and was an expert at painting and drawing, wasn’t too shabby either.
“You shouldn’t,” Amaury said from behind him. “Certain gifts can be a curse too.”
Zane nodded. Amaury’s gift of sensing everybody else’s emotions had been a literal headache until Nina had come along and healed him.
When nighttime traded with daylight once more, the humans ventured out and continued their search, checking out targets Thomas had picked for them. In the meantime, Zane was relegated to pacing. His feet carried him to the room where Thomas had set up his computers and was hacking into every system imaginable.
After a brief knock, Zane opened the door and entered.
“Hey,” Thomas greeted him.
“Hey.” Zane shifted his weight from one foot to the other while he shut the door behind him.
“What’s up?” Thomas asked without taking his eyes off the monitor.
“Can we talk?”
His colleague swiveled in his chair. “What about?”
“About what I said.”
“What did you say?” There was an uncharacteristic tightness in Thomas’ voice.
“About you and Eddie.”
Thomas stiffened and crossed his arms over his chest. “There’s nothing to talk about.”
“There is. I want to apologize.”
Thomas’ mouth dropped open.
“You heard right. It’s none of my business, and it was inappropriate.”
Thomas nodded slowly. “I guess none of us can choose who we are drawn to.”
“No. That’s why I shouldn’t have said it. It must be hard enough for you as is.”
Thomas gave a bitter laugh. “I curse the day I met him … Yet, if I could go back in time, I would still offer to be his mentor. Screwed up, huh?”
Zane shook his head. “You’re a good man, Thomas. I wish for you to get what you want, because I know how much it hurts not to.” He took an awkward step forward, not sure whether to hug Thomas or simply turn to leave.
His friend gave him a tired smile. “You know that I was the one who told Samson, don’t you?”
“It doesn’t matter. You did what you had to do. If the shoe were on the other foot, I would have done the same. No hard feelings.”
“No hard feelings.”
Thomas swiveled back to face the screen and Zane turned to the door. When he twisted the door knob, Thomas cleared his throat.
“I hope you get her back, Zane. I think she’s good for you.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Portia felt the hunger pangs getting worse. Her stomach clenched as she writhed on the bed she was still chained to, and her throat felt as dry as sandpaper. Her father had made good on his threat and was starving her to force her compliance. She’d long stopped crying. Disappointment about her father’s disregard for her feelings had made way for despair many hours earlier.
