Omega

5.

The exam lasted longer than I wanted, and was far more invasive than I really cared for. I sighed with relief when I was done. That I’d learned about the new material was worth the inconvenience of dealing with Sessions and his complete lack of humanity . When finished, I dressed and worked my way back to headquarters, where I found Parks in the watch room next to the basement interrogation chamber where Fries was being held. I watched Fries, who sat with a black hood over his head, handcuffed to the metal table in the center of the room. There was no cot in the cell, and I wondered if he’d slept sitting up in the chair. Actually, I wondered if he’d slept at all.

“Would you have, in his place?” Parks asked when I voiced that thought to him, “We’ll be able to get an idea of his state of mind when we pull that hood off.” His gray hair flowed over his shoulders, somewhat more controlled today than it normally was. Its usual state was to be bushy, but it looked like he had washed and perhaps combed it. “Let’s take a look, shall we?” His expression was almost wolfish, his teeth bared as though he were a feral creature ready to strike. He strode out of the observation room and into the hallway, unlocking the door using a key card. The door opened with a gentle whoosh , and I walked in first when Parks gestured for me to.

Fries wore the same clothes he had when I had encountered him yesterday in his apartment—suit coat, black pinstriped pants, leather shoes, no tie. I could see the top of his chest in the space between the hood and his unbuttoned shirt; I had seen him with it off, and he was muscular, in very good shape. I suspected he spent some time on that, probably more as a vanity thing than any sincere desire for the added strength his definition would bring him. I circled him and came to a stop just to his left. His head moved under the hood, swiveling to follow the sound of my footsteps.

Parks took up position at the shoulder opposite me, and looked at me over Fries’ covered head. Parks reached down and took hold of the hood and gave me a questioning look. I nodded. He gave me a wink and then yanked the hood off, causing Fries to blink at the brightness of the light. He shut them harder when I yanked off the duct tape.

Fries blanched, then slowly opened his eyes, keeping them squinted as he stole a look first at Parks, then at me. “Oh, good, it’s you,” he said upon seeing me. “I was hoping it’d be you.”

I stared at him, forcing my face to carry an expression that I hoped conveyed bleak humor. “Because I didn’t hit you hard enough yesterday to satiate your masochistic desires?”

“No,” he said, and formed a smile that caused me to feel another desire to pound his face into tenderloin. “I just like seeing you, that’s all.”

“I assure you, the feeling is not mutual.”

“Enough of this crap,” Parks said. “Fries, we’ve got questions for you.”

“I’m sure you do,” Fries said, turning to face Parks. His expression went from a grin to something more concealed, calm. “I doubt I have any answers for you, though. At least none that would satisfy.”

“You, unable to satisfy?” I arched an eyebrow. “Common occurrence.”

“I don’t hear any complaints,” he said with a light shrug and a smile.

Something primal and brutal welled up inside me, and I couldn’t contain myself. I hit him before I even realized I was going to, leveling him with a punch that sent his chair over backwards and snapped his head against the floor with a crack that I felt reverberate off the walls. “That’s because the women you seduce are dead before you finish,” I said, leaning over him. I reached down and forced my gloved hand against his throat and lifted him back up, setting his chair upright against the wall. “If you didn’t kill them, they might tell a different story.”

I heard him take a deep breath around my hand, his wrists still attached to the chair courtesy of the handcuffs. “I do know how to make the girls scream.” He coughed. “I didn’t hear you complain.”

I restrained myself from hitting him. “Oh, I didn’t? Sorry. I was very unsatisfied with the look I got at your equipment. It seemed pitifully inadequate to the task before you.”

I caught a flash of rage in his eyes that disappeared behind another smile, this one faker than any of the others he’d used on me. “Heh. Very good. But you wouldn’t know what satisfaction is, would you, Sienna?”

“Enough,” Parks said, and I felt his hand on my shoulder, gently. I looked back and saw that there was no mistaking the look in his eyes— Back off, it said. I walked back to the table, seating myself on its edge. “We’re here to talk to you about your employers.”

“I’ve got nothing to say about my employers,” Fries said, leaving the smile plastered on. I heard the click of his handcuffs against the chair as he rattled them.

“You sure about that?” Parks gave him a dead stare, cold and unmoving, without a trace of warmth.

Fries smiled tightly. “Yep. If you’re planning to torture me, though, I suggest you get started. It might take a while to get to the good stuff.”

A sound came from the door, unlocking and opening, cutting short Parks’ reply. We turned to see a flash of red hair as Ariadne stuck her head in. She flushed at the sight of Fries, who smiled back at her. “I need to speak with the two of you for a moment.”

“Nice to see you again, Ariadne,” Fries said with a little shrug . His hands clinked the cuffs as the chain reached maximum extension. “I’d wave at you, but I think you can see I’m a bit tied down here.”

“Just the way I prefer you,” Ariadne said. “Parks, Nealon…a word, please.”

I cast a look at Parks, who shook his head in a warning that took me a moment to decipher. I realized he meant I shouldn’t show hesitation in front of Fries, but when I looked at Fries he was already grinning at me. Too late. I followed Parks into the hall where the door slid shut behind us and Ariadne activated the lock.

“This one’s gonna be tough without getting physical or using chemicals,” Parks said the moment the door clicked shut. “He’s got a serious reserve of self-confidence that ain’t bluster. Probably been trained to resist interrogation.”

“Doubtless,” Ariadne said, “but that’s not why I called you out here—”

“He said it was nice to see you again,” I looked at her pointedly. “You know this scum on a personal basis?”

She shook her head. “In passing. I didn’t realize it at the time, but he tried to flip me a few months ago.”

“Flip?” I looked from her to Parks. “Like…physically?” I lowered my voice. “Like…”

Ariadne let out a hiss. “No. As in flip me from the Directorate to Omega. I didn’t know who he was at the time, and it was a clumsy attempt, but it had…” I saw some of the life drain out of her, “…repercussions. I’m not going to go into detail, but suffice it to say the Director is fully aware of what happened, and you needn’t concern yourself with it. We have something else brewing.”

“What’s that?” I asked.

“Just a moment,” she said, and I caught movement at the far end of the hall, by the door to the stairwell that led out of the basement. “Here he is.”

A thin man in skinny jeans, with thick, square-rimmed black glasses came bouncing down the hall in a worn olive green jacket that looked like he had been paid by the Salvation Army to get it the hell out of their store. His black, wavy hair was spiked into an angled fauxhawk.

“J.J.,” I said as he walked up, tablet computer in his hand. “It’s always so nice to see you leave your cubicle for a little while.”

“Because the air here in the dungeons is so much fresher than what we get on the fourth floor?” He looked at me with a querying eyebrow. “Ariadne asked me to tell you what we found.”

“Found from what?” I asked.

“Fries’ cell phone,” Ariadne replied, smug. “Reed bagged it during your raid. Go on, J.J.”

“Recent history was kind of a boon ,” J.J. said, holding up the tablet so I could see. “The man’s not what you’d call real communicative, so it’s not like there was a ton to sift through in his thirty-day history.”

“I’ve heard that incubi and succubi can be a little unsociable,” I said without a trace of irony.

“That might be underselling it for him,” J.J. said. “Two numbers, that’s it. One’s a cell phone that I backtraced. Area code says it’s from Manhattan, but it was last used in downtown Minneapolis yesterday afternoon at about three-thirty p.m.” He held up the tablet and a city grid showed up on the screen. “It wasn’t logging the GPS, but just based on the cell tower data it looks like the user was pretty close to Fries’ apartment when the call was made. After that, it went dark, completely offline, no record that it’s been on the network since.”

“Whoever’s using it is either odd or cautious,” Parks suggested. “They might have seen your team bag Fries and figured you could track them down if they left the phone on for the networks to follow.”

“Or they might just be on planes or not wanting to be disturbed,” J.J. said with a shrug. “It’s not usual behavior for most users to go dark for that long, though, so I think we can assume that the phone is probably disposed of.”

I stared at the map on the tablet computer. “So that’s a dead end unless the phone goes active again. What about the other number?”

J.J. broke into a little smile. “That one is a landline for a house in Des Moines, Iowa.”

“Iowa,” Parks said as though it were some sort of curse. “I hate Iowa.”

“Why?” I asked, and caught a flash of the wolf on Parks’ face when he came around to answer.

“Because between it and the damned Dakotas, there ain’t a more boring place to drive in the entire United States.” He bared his teeth again in a scowl. “I’ll get M-Squad together, though, and we’ll—”

“No,” Ariadne said. “I want you to remain here with Bastian and Eve.” She let her eyes flick to me. “This seems like another good opportunity to test our new team in the field.”

“What do you think this is?” I asked. “An Omega safe house?”

“Based on anomalies in the property records, yeah,” J.J. replied. “It’s registered to a Peter and Sophia Larson, but the names and social security numbers in the property tax rolls don’t match any employment records, birth records, et cetera, that are legitimately alive anywhere. No employment history? No social security work or payment history for either?” The geek raised a hand as though he were offering an open palm. “Not likely to be a real person. No bank records, either, so who knows how they’re paying the property taxes and gas bill.”

“So I take my team, we reconnoiter the house, and if it seems suspicious, we break and enter?” I gave Ariadne the eye, waiting for her approval.

“Yes,” she replied. “But take Clary with you.”

I felt the enthusiasm for what I was about to do wither and die in a half a heartbeat. “Please, no. Can I have Bastian instead?”

“Bastian is M-Squad’s leader,” she said, as though patiently explaining why I was wrong. I looked at Parks and cocked my head to indicate him. “Parks has been your instructor, so you’re more likely to defer to him and his judgment rather than cleanly lead like I want you to.”

“There may be some virtue in drawing from superior experience,” Parks said to her with an edge of reproach.

“No doubt,” Ariadne said, “but this is a time of trial.”

“What about Eve?” I said hopefully.

Ariadne’s face flickered with a moment’s hesitation before she answered. “She won’t take orders from you, she’s too stubborn.”

I let that hang in the air for a moment, not letting her escape my gaze. “Know that from experience, do you?”

Ariadne stared coolly back. “Clary will listen, and he’s strong enough to be of use if you run into trouble, powerful enough to overcome almost any meta you run into.”

“He’ll listen?” I asked, dubious. “First time for everything, I suppose.”

Ariadne ignored me. “Go to Des Moines. Find this house, and get to the bottom of what Omega’s up to.”

“Don’t you have anything ominous to say about this?” I asked. “Something like, ‘Our very existence hangs in the balance’ or ‘the fate of the meta world depends on you’?”

“No offense, but if I thought the stakes were that high, I’d send M-Squad. Experience trumps youth and enthusiasm. Besides, Omega is headquartered in Europe. Whatever you find won’t be more than the five of you can handle.”

I let my jaw hang slack, and favored her with my best disbelieving stare. “So…what I’m hearing you say is that there will probably be a whole army of Omega’s thugs and minions there, as well as some of the old gods. Got it.”

She blinked and drew back in disbelief. “I just said…how did you get that out of what I said?”

“You jinxed me.” I started toward the stairwell. “I can’t believe you just jinxed me like that!”

“It’s a safe house!” she said, trailing along behind me. “A house, in the city of Des Moines. Two-thousand square feet, tops. It can’t possibly house more than a few metas—no army, no minions. And I think gods would travel in a bit higher style.”

“You don’t know.” I pushed through the exit door. Parks and J.J. had been left behind, but Ariadne trailed in my wake. “They could have one of the old gods in this place.” I paused and held the door for her. “They could have Thor. And when he smacks me upside the head with Mjolnir—or possibly mesmerizes me with Chris Hemsworth-like abs—I’m going to say, ‘I told you so, Ariadne’.” I frowned. “Assuming I survive.”

She squinted at me with one eye crinkled, slightly appalled. “‘Chris Hemsworth-like abs’?”

“You wouldn’t understand,” I said, and started up the stairs. “The point is, I’m not the biggest believer in luck, but Omega has this tendency to whack us every time we underestimate them. It’s like turning the crank on a jack-in-the-box, and when the damned song is over, the jack pops out with a mallet and beats the hell out of you.”

“Wait…what?” She shook her head. “You’re talking about abs and jack-in-the-boxes. This is a straightforward mission. Go to Des Moines, do recon, if it looks bad, call for backup. Don’t endanger your team unnecessarily. There’s no shame in admitting you might be in over your head if you see something suspicious. We can dispatch the rest of M-Squad if needed.”

I paused at the top of the stairs. “Yeah, all right.”

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” She halted next to me, her eyes looking into mine with the barest hint of concern. “You don’t normally get worked up about these things—you’re cool, calm, efficient—not predisposed to rattling on about jinxes or some faux God of Thunder’s abs. If you don’t want the assignment, it’s fine. I’ll send M-Squad.”

“It’s not that,” I said, feeling my fingers wrap around the thick metal safety rail. “It’s just…” I halted. “These guys sent Wolfe after me and Henderschott. They tried to get Fries in my pants, then flipped Mormont—or whatever you called it—and turned loose a couple of bloodthirsty vampires to try and catch me.” I shook my head. “It feels like every time we’ve got a grasp on what we’re dealing with, something else comes popping out that’s more horrific than the last thing they set loose.”

“You think Henderschott, Mormont and the vampires were worse than Wolfe?”

I felt myself freeze and stiffen, all motion stopping around my body. “No. Nothing is worse than Wolfe. And nothing has stayed with me like him, either.”

“Yes, well, having a monster stuck in your head isn’t the sort of thing that goes away, I suppose,” she said. “This is our best chance to get to what Omega’s doing now, and if you don’t feel comfortable with it—”

“I’m going,” I said, firm, feeling it all the way down. “I’m just…cautious, okay? They’re not world-renowned for coming at us open-handed. You’ve got their slimy mouthpiece in there, and he’s just grinning up a storm, like he’s just having a conversation with us sitting on his couch. It worries me that Fries is so cool. They must have known we’d come for him—that I would, after what he did.”

“He hid,” Ariadne said. “He changed identities, he changed apartments, he probably thought we couldn’t find him after Eagle River. He was wrong. Just because he’s been trained to play it cool when most of us would be showing some concern doesn’t mean anything. Omega is not some invincible organization with limitless resources and the ability to know our every move before we make it. The fact that your mother hit them so hard, in places they didn’t expect, proves that they can make mistakes.” She lowered her voice. “The fact that they lost Andromeda, someone so important an entire facility was dedicated to her, proves they’re not invincible.”

I felt a sliver of fear mingled with sadness at the mention of Andromeda’s name. “And I might feel better about that if we had turned that win into something, anything that worked to our advantage. But even the autopsy left us with no clue what she was, or why they wanted her, or anything really, beyond the fact that we pulled two traitors out of the Directorate’s inner circle that we wouldn’t have had a clue about if she hadn’t told us before she died. Let’s face it Ariadne—these guys have been kicking our asses since day one, and we know almost nothing more about them beyond the fact that they used to be gods, than we did when we started. I don’t know about you, but when someone’s pounding my skull in, I like to think that after nine months of it, I’d have at least some handle on who they are and what they want.”

“We know what they want,” she said. “The same thing they’ve always wanted. You.”

I hissed, expelling all the air from my body. “But ‘why?’ is the more valid question. And, by the way, just as an aside, sending me to their secret safe house when we have no idea what’s contained within? Not the best idea ever for keeping what they want out of their hands.”

She twitched and looked away, her gaze swiveling to the white concrete block that surrounded us in the stairwell, looking out over the banister. “The Director thinks you’re one of our best resources against them because whatever they throw at you, you seem to be able to turn around relatively easily.”

“Relatively easily?” I stared at her openmouthed. “Wolfe nearly killed me. Fries nearly—” I stopped. “Mormont would have taken me to them if Zollers hadn’t saved my life.”

“You’re not going after them alone, nor do you have to go at all if you don’t want to,” she said. “Your choice.”

“You’re damned right I’m going after them,” I said. “I just…ugh. I hate everything they’ve done to me so far. I hate them.”

“I’d feel the same if I were you.”

“Whatever.” I shook my head. “When does the chopper leave?”

She looked at me in surprise. “Chopper? I’m not having you take the chopper to Des Moines. Not for this. The uncertainty of the mission coupled with the recon element means you’ll need to approach quietly, with some subtlety, and a chopper hovering over a suburban neighborhood with people deploying out of it on zip-lines doesn’t exactly fit the bill. You’ll take a van; it fits the mission profile better.”

I grimaced. “How long of a drive is it to Des Moines?”

“Four, maybe four and a half hours?”

“Dammit,” I said, and my hand came up to massage my eyebrows. “This is bad.”

“What now?” Ariadne said, her voice rising with alarm. “What is it?”

“I’m going to be stuck in a confined space with Clary for the whole drive.”