That said, mistakes do happen. Whether it’s directly or indirectly, sometimes shit just goes sideways, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it. Your only option is to react in the best way you see fit to try to rectify whatever the situation is. Which is exactly what Lily’s done. She knew she couldn’t fail The Order, so she came to me and asked for help.
If I’m being completely honest, the cynic in me thinks this is nothing more than the excuse Horizon’s been waiting for to justify getting rid of her. This whole thing seems to be a very disproportionate response to Lily’s mistake, especially given she didn’t technically break any of The Order’s precious little rules. This seems very personal. I might be way off, but that’s what my gut’s telling me. I mean, I quite brazenly broke one of their rules, and all I got was a stern talking to and an opportunity to redeem myself.
On top of that, given my almost genetic reflex to rebel against any kind of authority, I’m not blind to the fact I’ve been pissing Horizon off more and more each time we speak. Him giving me the contract on Lily’s life is probably just his way of putting me in my place and exerting his authority over me. He most likely knows Lily and I were growing close, and he knows there’s nothing I can really do about it because of the fucking bomb in my head…
I sigh heavily and lean back against the pillow.
I need to focus. I’m letting my mind run away with itself, letting it worry about too many worst-case scenarios. I need to make a list of my problems and tackle one at a time.
The first problem is Lily. From what I know about her, she’s most likely panicking and reacting to a threat without thinking clearly. Again, it makes me wonder what set her apart from everyone else in our business in the first place, but that’s a question for another day. There’s no denying she’s lethal, but she’s also proving to be very resourceful. She’s managed to hack her way into The Order’s computer network and hijack the tracking signals from the devices implanted in every operative’s neck. She knows exactly where I am at all times, which explains how she found me at Kaitlyn’s office. I have to assume she knows I’m here, too, despite Pierce saying he has people working to block her access.
So that’s my first problem. My second problem is the bomb in my neck. Aside from the fact it’s giving my position away, it’s a fucking bomb… I can literally have my head blown off my shoulders at any moment. It can’t be removed, because any contact with the atmosphere and it detonates…
But given my head is still attached to my shoulders, I think it’s safe to assume that the network she’s hacked into doesn’t control both the GPS tracking signal and the signal linking the explosive to the detonator. This is good, because, if I’m right and the detonator signal is isolated, that means the only people who can blow my head off are the people who physically have one of the detonators in their possession — which, at the moment, is only Horizon and Pierce that I know of.
I need to start—
Kaitlyn groans and stirs in her seat. I glance over as she slowly opens her eyes.
“What time is it?” she asks, groggily.
I look up at the wall clock opposite. “A little after one. You alright?”
She stretches and sits up in the chair, then nods. “I’m fine, I think. How are you? Has the surgeon been to look at your hand yet?”
I shake my head. “No, nothing yet. But yeah, I’m okay. Pain meds are the best…”
She smiles weakly. “Okay, well, seeing as I’m awake, start talking.”
“What about?”
“Everything. What the hell happened to you that made you wind up here, ruining my life?”
“That’s a complicated question, and the answer is very long.”
She shrugs. “Bullet point it for me. You owe me an explanation.”
I sigh. I guess I do. But she’s not going to like it…
“Okay… you remember 4/17, right?”
She nods. “Kinda hard to forget…”
“Right… Well, I was there, in the room at the exact moment the button was pushed to launch the tactical nuclear missiles that went on to ravage a large portion of the planet.”
She leans forward, her eyes wide. “Bullshit…”
“I wish it were.”
“What were you doing there?”
I smile humorlessly. “I’ve been asking myself that same question for months. I’d retired from being an assassin, but a terrorist organization tried to recruit me. I declined their offer and they tried to kill me. Turns out, the government had been keeping an eye on this group for a while, so I agreed to help stop them.”
“Oh my God… I can’t believe this…”
I chuckle. “It gets better. You see, it turns out this terrorist group wasn’t actually behind the attack. They were being used — set up to take the fall in the aftermath of the attack. Me and a few others stumbled across a conspiracy within the U.S. government, and found proof that people working inside the White House were the real ones responsible for it all. It was just the first step in a plan to unite the world and bring around a new era of peace. In a kind of Nazi, genocidal kinda way.”
She frowns, and I can see the cogs turning inside her head as she starts piecing together what I’ve told her. She looks into my eyes. “Was all this… Was this, in any way, related to President Cunningham’s assassination last month?”
I nod slowly, but stay silent. I’ll let her come to it on her own — might make it easier to process.
She stands and puts a hand to her mouth. She paces back and forth for a moment, and then stops to stare at me. “He was involved?”
I nod again. “He was the brains behind it all. But 4/17 was only the first part of his plan, and was designed to hit the reset button on the world. The next part was supposed to unite everyone in fear, so we would all turn to him to save us. See, he had some friends in North Korea…”
She sits down again and rests her head in her hands. “Oh my God… Oh my God… I can’t believe what I’m hearing! Are you saying the president of the United States was working with North Korea when they tried to take over the world? That’s just—”
“Fucking insane? Yes, it is. But, sadly, that doesn’t make it any less true. Luckily for us, Cunningham drastically underestimated GlobaTech’s ability to kick ass, so we were all saved. But…”
She looks up at me. Her eyes are wide and welling with tears. “You… It was you, wasn’t it?”
She catches on quick…
I nod silently.
She puts both hands over her mouth and gasps. “Oh my God! You killed the—”
I hold my good hand up to silence her. “Kaitlyn, will you keep your voice down! Jesus… Yes, I… I killed the president.”
She gets up and starts pacing back and forth in front of me again. Tears are flowing freely down her face and she’s shaking her head, seemingly arguing with herself.
“But… how? They said you were dead… You caused all this… I can’t—”
“Okay, just relax — the guy was a piece of shit and most definitely deserved it.”
She looks at me like I have two heads. “How can anyone deserve to die?”
The anger is burning in her eyes. She’s furious with me. The professional relationship we had is gone. I’m assuming the confidentiality we had between us has, too.
I’m getting frustrated with her again, and angry with myself for doing so. I clench my fist as a gesture to suppress—
Ah!
I wince, because I just clenched my busted right hand! Goddammit!
I take a deep breath through the pain. “You know the missile that hit Texas, during the North Korean invasion?”
She takes some deep breaths of her own, like she’s trying to calm herself. She nods, but says nothing.