The Long Game

“She got your prisoner released,” I replied, glancing toward Daniela. “Didn’t she?”

Mrs. Perkins made a tsk sound under her breath. “There’s no need to take a confrontational tone, Tess. We’re all friends here.” She stepped forward and trailed the flat of the knife blade along my neck. “Now tell me, did Ivy happen to send us anything else?”

I nodded, as much as I could with a knife at my throat.

“Delightful,” Mrs. Perkins declared, stepping back. On the other side of the room, Henry stared at her, his jaw clamped closed.

I won’t let anything happen to you, he’d said roughly, his body less than a millimeter from mine.

“I believe you’re looking for this,” Daniela said, holding up the USB drive she’d taken from Priya. There wasn’t an ounce of tension in her voice—nothing but the barest hint of challenge.

She’s not afraid of them, I realized. They haven’t lifted a hand against her.

There was a plan. Daniela and I had a plan—but the reason I’d put my life in her hands, Priya’s life in her hands, was that I’d thought that our goals were aligned.

I’d thought she—and her child—were in danger.

Mrs. Perkins took the drive from Daniela and handed it to Dr. Clark. My former teacher plugged it in. A sequence of numbers and programming code appeared on the screen.

All eyes went to me.

“It has to be decrypted,” Daniela spoke up on my behalf, leaning back against a nearby table as she did. “Would you expect anything less?”

She’s on my side. She is. She knows the plan. She’ll stick to it.

“For your sake, Tess,” Mrs. Perkins said, her gaze lingering on my face, “let us hope it’s decrypted quickly.”

The sound of my own breathing was deafening in my ears, but somehow, I heard it—a light, high-pitched whistle.

Daniela eased herself off the table. The moment Mrs. Perkins attention was drawn to Daniela, I bolted.

Out the door, into the hall.

I made it two feet, maybe three, and then I was slammed into a wall. I heard a crack. My jaw. My teeth bit into my tongue.

One of the guards grabbed me roughly, my arms held so tightly behind my back that my shoulder threatened to dislocate. My eyes teared up. My vision blurred. I blinked.

Mrs. Perkins stepped out into the hall. She took her time and traded her knife for a gun.

My eyes found their way to Henry’s. For a second, I let myself pretend that none of this had happened. That it was just Henry and me. That he was the boy I’d known, the person I’d thought he could be.

“Stop, Kendrick. Please.”

I saw him say the words as much as I heard them.

Stop fighting. Stop taking chances. Stop.

I couldn’t. I had to keep Mrs. Perkins looking at me. I had to keep her attention on me for just a few more seconds.

“The program won’t work,” I said. “Ivy would never give you what you wanted. If she gave you anything, it’s a fraction of what she has.”

Mrs. Perkins raised her gun. “Thank you for your honesty, Tess.”

A second before she pulled the trigger, Henry threw himself forward. His body slammed into mine, curved around mine, shielding it, protecting it.

Protecting me.

I heard the gun go off. I felt Henry’s body lurch forward with the impact.

No. I thought the word, and I screamed it. And all around me, the world exploded into chaos.

I sank to the ground with Henry. Shot, just like John Thomas. Bleeding, just like John Thomas.

Not Henry.

Traitor—betrayer—friend—

Please, not Henry.

His blood was on my hands. My fingers frantically searched for a bullet hole, combing his back, the weight of his body in my arms.

“Up!” one of the guards yelled at me. “Get up!”

“Or,” a voice said behind him, “you could put your weapon down.”

Priya Bharani pressed a gun to the back of his head.

The plan is working, I thought dully. We’d taken our chances that the snipers’ attention would be on the FBI and securing the perimeter, not on the “body” killed within ten feet of the Hardwicke door. Priya was a trained operative. She could move quickly and silently. The plan is working. This was the plan. I should have felt a rush of victory. Relief.

I felt numb.

The guard lowered his weapon. Holding Henry, his blood thick on my fingers, I tried to stop the bleeding and took in the sight beyond us.

Mrs. Perkins was on the ground. There was a tiny, perfect bullet hole in the side of her head. Priya’s handiwork, thanks to my distraction. Daniela had taken out one of the guards. She currently held another at gunpoint.