State of Alliance

How is Omega doing this?

How are they planting people so blatantly within our ranks?

I say, “Let’s keep our priorities straight. We’ll find out if California was accepted into the Alliance by morning. This can wait.”

“The vote was delayed,” Devin replies. “You might not find out until tomorrow afternoon.”

I sigh.

Vera is right. How long does it take to come to a decision? California should join. Period. What’s there to talk about?

We exit the room — a dark, sterile place meant for observation of those being interrogated.

“Senator, this won’t happen again,” Devin promises. “I mean, since the EMP, we haven’t had anything like this happen here. This is a freak thing.”

“My security detail will take care of it,” I tell him, smiling slightly.

In the moments after the assassination attempt, my mouth went completely dry, my hands shook and I felt slightly faint. Something about nearly being killed in a place that I trusted to be completely safe rocked my core.

I have confidence that Chris, Uriah, and the rest of my unit will keep me safe while I’m here — and not for my sake. For the sake of California.

By the time we reach our hotel rooms, Devin turns to Chris.

“Hey. Can I talk to you for a second, man?”

Chris nods. I stand at my hotel room door and watch the two of them wander to the end of the hall, still in sight but out of earshot. Judging by the expression on Chris’s face and the way Devin gestures to me, I’m guessing that they’re talking about me.

Shocker.

I roll my eyes and take my room key out of my pocket, slip it into the lock and open the door. It’s cool inside, musty. The dark wood of the bed and the table blend in with the floor. A solar-powered lantern is sitting on the table. I flick it on, giving the room a soft glow. Someone has cleaned and stocked the room for me. There are bottles of fresh water on the table, along with some energy bars and what looks like basic items for the bathroom.

Nice.

I grab a water bottle and walk to the window, instinctively pulling the curtains across the window. Since the assassination attempt in the ballroom, I haven’t been able to shake the feeling that someone is watching me. Waiting.

I pop the water bottle open just as Devin and Chris return to my room.

“Cassidy, come out in the hall for a second,” Chris says, holding his hand out.

I cross the room, step over the threshold. Elle Costas — lithe and black-haired — is standing there with Uriah on her left, a firm grip around her bomb dog’s harness.

“Elle is going to check the room,” Devin tells me. “That’s what Bravo does. Right, boy?”

He smiles at the dog.

I raise an eyebrow and Elle enters the room with the dog.

“So you think somebody planted a bomb in my room?” I ask. “Then why did you let me go inside?”

“No, not a bomb,” Devin answers. “Security is too tight on this floor.”

“Apparently people can get past security in the ballroom.”

Chris clears his throat, a subtle signal for me to shut my mouth.

“Then what’s he searching for?” I ask.

“Poisons,” Elle replies, her voice serious. “Some bomb dogs have been cross-trained to sniff out both explosives and poisons. Bravo is one of those special canines.” She gives the dog a fond look. “It’s just a precaution, Commander.”

I watch Bravo sniff through the room, using his expertly trained nose to guide him. He’s all business as Elle follows him, studying his gestures. I bring the water bottle to my lips and suddenly Chris’s hand is on my wrist, sending driblets of water down the front of my shirt.

“Hey! What are you—” I begin, but I stop.

Bravo is sitting. His posture is rigid. He is positioned next to the table and Elle is holding a water bottle in her hand. She looks at me, I look at her, and we all look at the dog.

Elle slowly reaches forward and takes my bottle from my hand. “Don’t drink it, Senator,” she advises. “Lieutenant May?”

“I’ll take care of it,” Devin says, stepping into the room, gathering the water bottles. “Don’t eat or drink anything in this room.”

“So you think it’s poisoned?”

“It could be—”

“—Who has access to my room besides you, Devin?”

He shakes his head.

“Nobody,” he says. “This shouldn’t happen. Ever.”

Already I have been nearly shot and poisoned in less than twenty-four hours.

We’re making someone angry. We’re making someone desperate.

Bring it on.

“You know, Chris is the kind of guy who does,” Jeff Young says, twirling a pocketknife in his hand. “He doesn’t say what he’s doing or why. You just know.”

“He’s never told me he loves me,” I reply.

The sky is dark. The clouds are full of rain. We are at the foot of the Tehachapi Mountains, settled in the muddy grass, waiting for Omega to make their move. We’ve only been away from Sector 20 for a couple of days. I am afraid.

“He loves you,” Jeff answers. “You know that.”

“Do I? If he loved me, he’d say so.”

Jeff snaps his knife shut and shoves it back into his pocket.

“Some people don’t say how they feel,” he sighs. “They show it.”

“It’s not normal.”

“Chris has his reasons for what he does.”

“Anything I should know about?”

Jeff shakes his head.

“It’s not my place to say,” he shrugs. “Chris will tell you when he’s ready.”

His words send a chill down my spine, as if I should expect something horrible and foreboding. Some kind of doomsday prophecy.

Because lying on my stomach in the mud with a rifle isn’t stressful enough.

“I won’t wait forever,” I whisper. “I’m only human.”

Even in the darkness, I can see Jeff’s mouth droop, a slight frown.

“Sometimes we have to wait, Cassie,” he says. “Sometimes we have to be patient.”

I don’t say what I’m thinking: I’ve been patient.

How hard can it be to tell someone you love them?

Chapter Eight

When Jeff Young died, a part of me died, too. He was a good friend to me, someone I could confide in when the going got rough. Someone who understood Chris better than I did, and someone who was there for me when Chris seemed incapable of expressing emotion.

I wish he were here right now.

I’m sitting in the hallway right outside of the meeting room where we had the Negotiations yesterday. I am wearing an armored vest, my rifle slung across my back, a handgun and a knife strapped to my hip. Uriah, Vera, Sophia, Andrew and Chris are here with me. Devin May is standing by the door, his stance similar to Chris’s.

“Why is it taking so long?” I say.

“These things take time,” Chris replies, his eyes focused straight ahead.

“How much time?”

Chris almost smiles for the first time in hours.

“As much time as they need,” he tells me.

“Well, my girl, I hear you dodged death twice last night. Is that true?”

I jump out of my chair, a smile spreading across my face. Ma

“Well, now,” he says, gri

“I’m glad you’re here, Ma

“Ma

Ma

“So,” he says. “What are you all doing around here? Holding a communal baptism of some sort? Baptism by bullets, perhaps?”

“We’re waiting for the verdict,” Andrew answers, raising an eyebrow. “The representatives are taking a vote on California’s entry into the Alliance.”