Chapter 17
Chapter seventeen
Sound and sight rushed back in a cacophony of noise. Too loud, too bright, too much for her suddenly sensitive ears and eyes. Wet on her face from her eyes streaming. Her ears felt scraped raw. Someone was shouting at her. Too loud. Too fast.
She blinked and found herself lying on her back on something both hard and soft, looking up into a newly familiar face, brows furrowed in concern.
“She’s awake.” Modron glanced to one side and Hallie became aware that she was lying on the ground with what seemed to be an awful lot of people standing nearby.
She didn’t like being so helpless while others were upright and tried to move, to sit up, only to find Modron’s hand on her shoulder, pressing her back.
“No, stay down for a minute. You used up all your reserves and passed out. I’ve given you some oxygen and a shot of painkiller for the headache you’re about to have.
Give it another minute for the painkiller to kick in and then you can sit up. Slow, alright? Slow and steady.”
“Alright,” Hallie said. Her voice was rasping and weak, and it scraped her raw ears.
Modron’s face was replaced by Girard, who was also frowning.
“You alright?” he asked.
“Fine,” Hallie said, and then tried to laugh because, clearly, she was not fine.
She was lying on the ground while everyone else was on their feet.
And now she’d been awake for a few moments, she realised that the softness she could feel was the thick carpet in Zurine Halinburn’s apartment.
She and Girard had been under fire. “Did you get them?”
“We did,” Girard said, and his expression lightened a fraction. “Or, rather, Commander Rojas and his team got them. All five are alive and in custody. They aren’t talking.”
“Cuffs,” Hallie said, remembering that the attackers had somehow gotten two of their number out of flexi-cuffs.
Girard nodded. “They had a master fob with them. No idea how they got hold of that. The commander and his team searched them. They won’t be getting away.”
Hallie nodded, feeling a stupidly enormous sense of relief that the cuffs hadn’t somehow failed.
She’d never heard of a master fob before, but it made sense that one could exist. She made some kind of sound of acknowledgement and decided she’d been lying down for long enough.
Mindful of Modron’s advice, and seeing the woman hovering nearby, she moved slowly to bring her elbows back, pushing herself up into a sitting position.
She was still next to the desk, and although it was full of bullet holes, she managed to turn herself so she was propped up against it.
Sitting, rather than lying down. Her head swam for a moment and stabs of agony ran through her skull, which must be the headache Modron had mentioned, but everything settled after a few breaths.
She opened her eyes to find Girard holding out a small pouch that she recognised. An energy drink. She knew it was going to be too sweet, but she also knew she needed the hit. So she took it from him and downed the contents quickly, trying not to grimace too much.
“Have another one and stay sitting for a few minutes more, then you’ll be good to move around,” Modron said, holding out another pouch.
“Thank you,” Hallie said, taking the drink. Modron grinned in response.
“You do lead an interesting life,” the woman said, and moved away. Hallie saw that she had a large pack on her back. Medical supplies, she guessed.
Girard took a seat next to her, his back against the wall, their shoulders just touching.
“Jasper and Dudon are annoyed that they missed all the fun,” he told her.
“Not the word I would use,” Hallie said, grimacing at the aftertaste of the drink.
“Me neither,” Girard agreed. He gave her a serious look. “You saved our lives.”
“The zauber did most of the work, I think,” Hallie said. She wrinkled her nose. “Although it seems I need some body armour.”
“Agreed. Although I don’t think that the director is going to send us anywhere without a tac team for a while,” Girard said. His eyes moved past Hallie, expression sombre. “We do seem to be attracting a lot of trouble all of a sudden.”
“Right,” Hallie agreed. Her mind was turning on a lot of different things.
Everything felt slow and sluggish, even as the pain in her head was fading.
She and Girard had travelled for two weeks without any serious trouble.
Then the attack in Minamaan and the executions of Kasmo, Oreste and Manju and the violence that had met them when they had tried to search the group’s base, and now this.
She couldn’t work out what might have changed, why they were now drawing so much fire.
She remembered the speculation, just before the attack had started, about how the group had managed to find her and Girard.
“Were they after us or Zurine, do you think?”
“Not clear at this stage. Like I said, they aren’t talking. And, as you know, the ones we brought back from Minamaan can’t talk,” Girard added.
“What about the drug?” Hallie asked, remembering the panic and confusion on the men’s faces when they’d realised they couldn’t actually talk, even if they had wanted to.
“Degan and Isoud have been working on it. Unfortunately, they say that although they can identify some of the components, they haven’t come up with a counter-agent yet.
And the two men are losing more muscle control.
They are under medical care.” Girard sounded grim.
“Rojas wants to see what he can get out of today’s attackers as soon as possible in case they’ve had the same drug.
They’ve got an interrogation team standing by.
” Hallie couldn’t suppress a shudder, wondering how much pressure the investigators would use in trying to get the men to talk.
In her first encounters with hochlen, when she’d been under suspicion of killing Bohort Jacobs, the Jacobs’ head of security had used a truth serum on her.
It had not been at all pleasant, but the serum had been effective and she imagined that the investigators had access to those kinds of drugs.
What they didn’t know was that they also, potentially, had access to her particular talents as well.
Of all of them, only Girard knew that she could tell if someone was lying or not.
And even he didn’t know that she could, potentially, compel honest answers.
It made her skin crawl to think of it, and yet with the safety of the Conclave at stake, she wondered if she might need to push herself to use those skills.
As her mind turned in circles, she realised that the tac team were taking their prisoners out one at a time, leading them out through one of the windows, rather than down the stairs. Stairs which might no longer be there, Hallie reminded herself.
As the last of the attackers was led out, a group of new people arrived, the director in the lead.
He had Jasper and Dudon with him along with another investigator that Hallie hadn’t seen for a while.
Mel. Melechan Mills, who had broken Hallie’s cheekbone at their first meeting and enjoyed hurting her while she’d been in cuffs and under suspicion of murder.
Seeing him, Hallie struggled to her feet.
The energy drinks were helping, and she did not want to be at any disadvantage when facing Mel.
Girard got up with her, but stayed by her side.
“Any injuries?” the director asked, directing the question between Commander Rojas and Girard.
“None to our people, sir,” the commander answered. “Miss Talbot and Abbott managed to get a few shots in against the hostiles.”
“Good,” the director said. “Location secure?”
“It is, yes. We’ve swept for more traps and found nothing. We’re going to check the office and workspace now,” the commander added.
“Good, thank you. Let me know when it’s clear,” Peredur said, and stood aside to let the commander leave the room. He then turned to Girard and Hallie. He looked marginally better than he had the day before, which wasn’t much. The purple shadows were a little less dark. His eyes were keen, though.
“Jasper has requisitioned some body armour for you, Miss Talbot. It will be available later today.” The director’s voice was brisk, clipped. “And I’ve asked Rojas to assign a unit to work with you and Abbott for now. He suggested Frollo’s team.”
“Thank you, sir,” Hallie said, a little relieved that they were only being assigned part of the tac team and not the whole lot.
“That will work well,” Girard agreed.
“This is quite a mess,” the director said, looking around.
Hallie followed the direction of his gaze and winced, having to agree.
What had been a quietly luxurious apartment now looked more like the ruined house they’d left in Minamaan.
There hadn’t been an actual fire, but the walls were peppered with bullet holes, the furniture had been ripped apart, stuffing exploding into the air, the carpet was covered with splinters.
All it needed now was a fire, Hallie thought.
“Did you get anywhere with Miss Halinburn’s family or background, sir?” Girard asked.
“Not very far at all,” the director answered, and glanced at Mel. “Tell us what you’ve got so far.”
“Are you sure, sir?” Mel asked. There was almost no deference in his tone, in sharp contrast to the other investigators. He looked at Hallie. “I know she’s suddenly supposed to be the golden girl, but doesn’t it seem odd to anyone else that the hostile group has turned up at two places she’s been?”
Hallie was sure her own gasp wasn’t the only one in the room. She’d always known Mel was hostile to her, but hadn’t expected him to be quite so open about it, or direct with his accusation.
“Mills,” the director said, tension and anger in his voice, “that’s a very serious accusation. Do you have any proof to back it up?”