Of course, this is all hindsight shit. I didn’t know what the fuck was happening last year. All I knew was I was being sent to kill people who were supposed to be on our side.
No one knows who to trust these days.
We’re all guilty. We’re all killers, even if we’re not all numbered assassins. We’re all wary of each other.
Because that file has been floating around for more than a year now. And from what they say, that file has enough dirt on it to cut the entire Company off at the knees.
I don’t get this file. I have no idea what’s on it. I think just your basic who’s who kind of info. Which means I’m in there. My family’s in there. We’re all in there, I guess. But who gives a fuck? Really, if some investigative reporter gets a hold of it and flashes that info for everyone to see, who would believe it? It’s like a very bad Dan Brown conspiracy book. This shit is so twisted, and the people involved so high up, and the accusations about what we’re doing so outlandish no one would even believe it. People just ignore shit that’s too big. You tell them small things—like we busted a terror cell in Colorado but the guy’s in custody, or there was a helicopter crash in Afghanistan and ten Navy SEALs died—and they’re OK with that. People can process that shit.
But when you get a guy who climbs the White House fence so he can get on TV and try and tell people what we’re doing by naming names… nope. That’s crazy talk. People don’t process the big shit well at all.
A plane ‘disappears’ over the Indian Ocean and everyone goes, huh? Wonder what happened.
A plane goes missing. Hundreds of people. Missing.
No one bats an eye.
So who gives a fuck about this file? That’s what I don’t understand. It’s big shit. It’s a list of global criminals masquerading as lawmakers and politicians. But there’s so many people on it—so many government agencies, charities, movie stars, and moms and pops—it’s gotta be bullshit. I mean, come on. How could this shadow world exist right under everyone’s nose?
So I can give a fuck about this file.
But that was before One killed Harper to get it back. Now that file is all I think about. And my sister. He mentioned my sister. He said she was in on the plan. And holy motherfuck. I can totally see that. I can totally fucking see that. It’s like all these little bits and pieces of my life and memory are all coming back to me.
But that file. It’s all wrong how it went down.
Nick steals the file, gives it to Harper, tells her to poison a ship full of Company elite, and then sends her away. But he only gives her the outward appearance of escaping. He only gives her just enough cover to make her think she’s getting away.
I’m debriefed, along with the rest of the remaining assassins—but told not to approach. No one is to approach her because she’s dangerous.
Yeah, Harper has some moves, but Harper is not dangerous. She’s like a little kitten with those little kitten claws. She can hurt you, but she’s a kitten.
So everyone gives her a wide berth. Meanwhile Tony’s number comes up and he’s next on my list. At the same time, Ford calls in a favor to Merc, who calls in a favor to me, requesting that my crazy brother also be eliminated.
So yeah, I did it.
Well—I take a deep breath and crack an eye to see if Sasha noticed, but she’s deep in thought too—I didn’t do it. Tet did it. Tet did it and then Tet didn’t move to the back of the bus, so to speak. Tet decided to take the front seat, in fact. And that made me fail the psych evaluation.
Which got me sent to the beach to unwind.
And then One appeared with a video of my sister, Nicola. And she had black eyes and she asked me to help her. And One told me to get that file because I had a debt to pay.
I sigh again.
They played me. They knew Harper was a weakness. I’d stayed clear of her except on her birthdays. Still, certain people knew I went to see her every Six Day. They knew she interacted with me the day we turned Six. They figured—correctly, I might add—that I could tame her.
But I love her. I want her. I know she’s not my promise. I understand this and it killed me to lie to her while we were together. But I want her now. She’s mine.
And no one is going to take her away.
No one.
Chapter Three
James
When Harrison yells back that we’re finally landing, I get up and stretch. I shoot the Smurf a smile that says it’s all good and make small talk about food, then I sit back down to wait for the plane to stop.
When we get off, I stop to shake Harrison’s hand. “You ever need anything, Harrison, I’m your man.”
He smiles but I can tell all he’s thinking about is how he hopes he never needs the kind of services I offer.
“Thanks, Harrison,” Sasha says, giving him a hug. He squeezes her back, a little too hard maybe because she puts a hand to her chest where my bullet slammed into her last night, and he pulls away.
“Sorry, Sasha,” he says in his kind voice. “Be careful,” he adds, as he pats her on the back. And then he looks at me like I am scum.
“She’ll be OK, I promise.”
“I’ll be fine, Harrison. Don’t worry about me.” She points to the parking lot, which is sorta visible from where we’re at. “Hey, there’s your truck, James!” And then she’s off. Running like a kid.
“Tet… James… whoever the fuck you are. Don’t drag this kid down with you, man. It’s not right. You can leave her here. My wife and I don’t have any kids. We can always use the company.”
My eyes squint down as I stare at him. I have never really looked at Harrison before. He’s not quite middle age. His hair is still dark, his build still decent for a guy who sits for his job. His eyes are too kind to be part of my world. And I bet he’s got a nice home here in this town. Some no-nonsense bungalow that could be anywhere.
But he’s out of his fucking mind if he thinks he’s getting my Smurf.
“I mean, just until you figure shit out, not for good. Just for a little while. To keep her safe.”
I don’t care for what he’s insinuating. “She’s safest with me, Harrison.”
“You shot her in the chest, Tet. That’s not normal. That’s just fucking wrong.”
I grit my teeth and clench my fist. He needs to stop or I might just lose my temper. “I did what I had to do to save her fucking life. Now, if you don’t mind, we’ve got people to meet. I hope we’re still good after this, but if not, just ignore my next call and you’ll never hear from me again.”
No one knows who to trust these days.
We’re all guilty. We’re all killers, even if we’re not all numbered assassins. We’re all wary of each other.
Because that file has been floating around for more than a year now. And from what they say, that file has enough dirt on it to cut the entire Company off at the knees.
I don’t get this file. I have no idea what’s on it. I think just your basic who’s who kind of info. Which means I’m in there. My family’s in there. We’re all in there, I guess. But who gives a fuck? Really, if some investigative reporter gets a hold of it and flashes that info for everyone to see, who would believe it? It’s like a very bad Dan Brown conspiracy book. This shit is so twisted, and the people involved so high up, and the accusations about what we’re doing so outlandish no one would even believe it. People just ignore shit that’s too big. You tell them small things—like we busted a terror cell in Colorado but the guy’s in custody, or there was a helicopter crash in Afghanistan and ten Navy SEALs died—and they’re OK with that. People can process that shit.
But when you get a guy who climbs the White House fence so he can get on TV and try and tell people what we’re doing by naming names… nope. That’s crazy talk. People don’t process the big shit well at all.
A plane ‘disappears’ over the Indian Ocean and everyone goes, huh? Wonder what happened.
A plane goes missing. Hundreds of people. Missing.
No one bats an eye.
So who gives a fuck about this file? That’s what I don’t understand. It’s big shit. It’s a list of global criminals masquerading as lawmakers and politicians. But there’s so many people on it—so many government agencies, charities, movie stars, and moms and pops—it’s gotta be bullshit. I mean, come on. How could this shadow world exist right under everyone’s nose?
So I can give a fuck about this file.
But that was before One killed Harper to get it back. Now that file is all I think about. And my sister. He mentioned my sister. He said she was in on the plan. And holy motherfuck. I can totally see that. I can totally fucking see that. It’s like all these little bits and pieces of my life and memory are all coming back to me.
But that file. It’s all wrong how it went down.
Nick steals the file, gives it to Harper, tells her to poison a ship full of Company elite, and then sends her away. But he only gives her the outward appearance of escaping. He only gives her just enough cover to make her think she’s getting away.
I’m debriefed, along with the rest of the remaining assassins—but told not to approach. No one is to approach her because she’s dangerous.
Yeah, Harper has some moves, but Harper is not dangerous. She’s like a little kitten with those little kitten claws. She can hurt you, but she’s a kitten.
So everyone gives her a wide berth. Meanwhile Tony’s number comes up and he’s next on my list. At the same time, Ford calls in a favor to Merc, who calls in a favor to me, requesting that my crazy brother also be eliminated.
So yeah, I did it.
Well—I take a deep breath and crack an eye to see if Sasha noticed, but she’s deep in thought too—I didn’t do it. Tet did it. Tet did it and then Tet didn’t move to the back of the bus, so to speak. Tet decided to take the front seat, in fact. And that made me fail the psych evaluation.
Which got me sent to the beach to unwind.
And then One appeared with a video of my sister, Nicola. And she had black eyes and she asked me to help her. And One told me to get that file because I had a debt to pay.
I sigh again.
They played me. They knew Harper was a weakness. I’d stayed clear of her except on her birthdays. Still, certain people knew I went to see her every Six Day. They knew she interacted with me the day we turned Six. They figured—correctly, I might add—that I could tame her.
But I love her. I want her. I know she’s not my promise. I understand this and it killed me to lie to her while we were together. But I want her now. She’s mine.
And no one is going to take her away.
No one.
Chapter Three
James
When Harrison yells back that we’re finally landing, I get up and stretch. I shoot the Smurf a smile that says it’s all good and make small talk about food, then I sit back down to wait for the plane to stop.
When we get off, I stop to shake Harrison’s hand. “You ever need anything, Harrison, I’m your man.”
He smiles but I can tell all he’s thinking about is how he hopes he never needs the kind of services I offer.
“Thanks, Harrison,” Sasha says, giving him a hug. He squeezes her back, a little too hard maybe because she puts a hand to her chest where my bullet slammed into her last night, and he pulls away.
“Sorry, Sasha,” he says in his kind voice. “Be careful,” he adds, as he pats her on the back. And then he looks at me like I am scum.
“She’ll be OK, I promise.”
“I’ll be fine, Harrison. Don’t worry about me.” She points to the parking lot, which is sorta visible from where we’re at. “Hey, there’s your truck, James!” And then she’s off. Running like a kid.
“Tet… James… whoever the fuck you are. Don’t drag this kid down with you, man. It’s not right. You can leave her here. My wife and I don’t have any kids. We can always use the company.”
My eyes squint down as I stare at him. I have never really looked at Harrison before. He’s not quite middle age. His hair is still dark, his build still decent for a guy who sits for his job. His eyes are too kind to be part of my world. And I bet he’s got a nice home here in this town. Some no-nonsense bungalow that could be anywhere.
But he’s out of his fucking mind if he thinks he’s getting my Smurf.
“I mean, just until you figure shit out, not for good. Just for a little while. To keep her safe.”
I don’t care for what he’s insinuating. “She’s safest with me, Harrison.”
“You shot her in the chest, Tet. That’s not normal. That’s just fucking wrong.”
I grit my teeth and clench my fist. He needs to stop or I might just lose my temper. “I did what I had to do to save her fucking life. Now, if you don’t mind, we’ve got people to meet. I hope we’re still good after this, but if not, just ignore my next call and you’ll never hear from me again.”
