Chapter 24 Part Four: The Mission Chapter 24: The Pass
I might’ve dozed off, I wasn’t sure for how long; the line between exhausted wakefulness and fitful sleep blurred into a grey haze. But I was jolted back to reality by a voice that cut through the room’s low murmur like a cleaver.
“Not here, Rebel! Gods damn it, I said don’t bring her here!” Nate’s roar was laced with a panic I’d never heard from him before. He stood in the doorway, his face pale beneath his tan, eyes wide and fixed on me. He jabbed a finger toward a reinforced door at the back of the hall. “You two, in here. Now.” He practically shoved us into the dim space beyond, his gaze darting over his shoulder to the street outside like he expected a firing squad to appear. “Shit, Rebel,” he muttered to the mutant, the words a mixture of anger and fear, before slamming the door shut behind us, plunging us into a sudden, tense quiet.
The back room was a stark contrast to the makeshift entrance hall; it was a purpose-built stronghold. Spacious and cool, it was lined with utilitarian bunk beds and yet more weapons racks, a barracks. A spiral metal staircase, rust flaking from its steps, twisted up into the darkness of the tower overhead. The far wall was a mosaic of grainy black-and-white screens, flickering with ghostly images from security feeds around the building, casting a nervous, shifting light.
Nate pointed to the nearest bunk, the gesture abrupt. “Sit. We need to talk, and we don’t have much time.” He flashed his usual warm smile, the kind that usually reached his eyes and put everyone at ease, but now it was a tight, strained mask. The tension in his voice was a live wire. “It’s not that I don’t want to see you. It’s just not safe, not here, not for you. Not right now.”
I remained standing, my own exhaustion burned away by a fresh surge of adrenaline. “Hit you?” I snapped, the memory of his betrayal in the alley surfacing sharp and bitter. “I should kill you. Now, why send Rebel to stick to me like glue if I shouldn’t be within a mile of this place?”
Nate’s eyes flicked to Max, who was trying to look small and inconspicuous near the door. “Not sure if these walls have ears. Or mouths.”
“Max is okay,” I said, the decision made before I’d even thought, it through. I needed one less variable to worry about. “I vouch for him.”
“Yeah, I’m okay,” Max chirped, puffing out his scrawny chest.
In perfect, irritated unison, Nate and I shot back, “Shut up, Max.”
Max’s shoulders slumped, his brief moment of inclusion thoroughly crushed.
“Right,” Nate said, turning his full focus back to me, all traces of the smile gone. “Tilly, for once in your life, calm down and let me talk. We don’t have much time.”
The command in his voice was absolute. With a frustrated sigh, I flopped back onto the hard bunk, the thin mattress offering no comfort. “So, talk.”
He began to pace, a caged animal. “For years, the three lower Sectors have held a vote to decide the ruling power among them. It’s a sham, but it’s the sham we have. Almost always, the winner comes from Sector Three, either the Tech Guild or one of the damn Churches. And with that power, they control the laws and the security that govern us all.” He stopped, pinning me with a look. “The last three elections? All won by Charles and his Church of the Machine. Since we vote every two years, that’s nearly six years under his thumb. Are you following me so far?”
I glanced up at him, insulted. “Of course. I was raised by political strategists who believed they were saints. I’m well versed in the theatre of power, just keep going.”
“Good.” He resumed pacing. “Now, people from Sectors One and Two have been unhappy for a long time, trying to shift the balance. I know for a fact that Seamus and John Smith backed me in the last election. With the Irish pubs and the Brit farms on my side, victory should’ve been guaranteed, a landslide. But I still lost. You understand what that means?” His gaze locked onto mine, intense and demanding.
“Yes,” I said, the simplicity of it almost boring. “They’re cheats and liars. They rigged it. But what does this have to do with me being public enemy number one in your lobby?”
His expression darkened, a storm crossing his features, before his usual smirk returned, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m running again. And this time, everyone knows I’ll win by a margin too big to hide, too many votes for them to rig. So now, they need to discredit me… or remove me entirely.” He stopped his pacing and knelt in front of me, his sudden closeness startling. He seized my hands before I could pull away, his grip firm. “You ruined their first plan.”
“What? I did nothing!” I struggled against his hold, but it was like iron.
“You saved me. That ambush at the old factory, the one that killed four of my best men. It was a setup. A trap. I’d be dead too, my body left for the rats, if not for you.”
Before I could process this, could form a response, he did something utterly unexpected. He lifted my fingers to his lips, not a gentle kiss, but a firm, almost desperate press, then he leaned forward and crushed his mouth against mine.
It wasn’t a kiss of tenderness; it was a kiss of possession, of raw, searing need. Shock held me frozen for a heartbeat, then two. Then the dam broke. The fear, the anger, the relentless tension of the last few days, it all melted under the startling heat of his mouth. I surrendered, melting into him, my free hand tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. I was breathless, willing, lost.
When he pulled back, he laughed, a low, rough sound. “You don’t look like some fierce warrior now, well, except for the bruises.” His thumb gently brushed a tender spot on my cheekbone. “They suit you, by the way.”
The spell shattered. I punched his chest, hard enough to make him grunt and rock back on his heels. “Bastard.”
Rubbing the spot, he grinned, a real one this time. “But here’s the thing. After the failed assassination, we tightened security, no missions outside the gate, especially with my injury. We’ve been playing it safe. But they have spies everywhere, Tilly. In the walls, in the streets. I think they’ve switched tactics.”
“What tactics?”
“Discrediting me. I thought avoiding you, pushing you away, would keep you safe. Turns out, I was protecting myself. You’re not exactly their favourite person, Tilly. Every time you step out of line, every brawl, every run-in with security, it reflects badly on me, because I’m the one who brought you here, who vouched for you. You need to stay clean. No slip-ups. No waves. Or everything I’ve worked for, everything we could be, could collapse.”
The weight of it, the unfairness, pressed down on me. Tears I refused to shed welled in my eyes, making the room swim. “I want to help, Nate, I do, but I can’t. Not with this. And there’s more… so much more happening. I’m sorry. Please don’t hate me.”
He cupped my chin, his touch surprisingly gentle, forcing me to meet his gaze. “Tilly, after that kiss? It’s a little late for hate. What could possibly be that bad?”
My voice trembled, the secret I’d carried for so long fighting its way to the surface. “They stole something from me. Something private. Something from before. If they read it, I’m ruined. We’re ruined.”
His eyes searched mine, confused, concerned. “What did they take, Tilly?”
I took a steadying breath, my gaze dropping to the grimy floor. “A book. From my past life. It’s mostly in Russian, and I can’t, I won’t, tell you what’s in it. But you have to trust me, if they decipher it, if they understand what it means, we’ve lost. Everything.”
He released me and shot to his feet, starting to pace again, a hand raking through his hair. “Where is it now?”
I stood up and grabbed his arm, stopping him. “I don’t know, but I’m working on it. I’ve got people searching for it, but I need to pay them. The only way to do that is to get to my supplies, and they’re buried a day’s travel outside the city.” I met his eyes, pleading for him to understand. “I hid them, Nate. I was coming back to save you.”
He laughed, a bitter, hollow sound. “Great. So, to get the book that saves us, we have to do the one thing I absolutely cannot be seen doing: sending a team outside the walls.”
“I can retrieve the supplies myself,” I said, my voice firming with resolve. “I just need a city exit pass and a small team for protection. I’ve even got transport arranged.”
He shook his head; frustration etched on his face. “I can get you the pass, I can forge that. But I can’t use my team, it’s too risky. People will talk, and Charles will have his excuse. And I don’t have the Chids to spare to hire outside mercs.”
Max, who had been so quiet I’d almost forgotten he was there, suddenly spoke up from his corner. “I can help get a team.”