Chapter 44 #2
“Our ages? We get curious.” Molly smiles. She blinks hard, stares at the table then at me. “We have footage of your two boys entering the institute.” Ron inhales sharply. Why? “So, we can confirm the timing. Nothing at all suspicious after that. But if we can help, we will.”
“Footage. You have footage from a camera watching the institute?” I get no answer from her or Ron, only silence and stares, but what with alternate worlds and fucking mad Clay and his murders, my mind is just ready for anything—even that Kail may be my long-lost preordained lover.
Star-crossed lovers? Like Romeo and Juliet. Except that ended badly.
Not us, I vow. Not us.
I kinda like that concept. That we might be destined to be together. Fuck him for running off. I would have trusted him, and there must be more to this, but right now it is unimaginable. What else could make him run?
These two, though.
“You’re not just oldies with skills are you?
I don’t know what you are and you don’t have to say, but the four of us are figuring out how to get them out of that place.
” I swipe my hand over my face and sigh.
“So, the one way in there that is guaranteed is an appointment with Clay. Excuse me.” I hold up a finger.
Squiggle Cat stares at it. “Sorry. Five of us,” I whisper to him.
No one speaks while I punch in a request for an appointment. Just like before, days ago. Only this is not going to be the same. I want to go in guns blazing, except I have none, and if I did, it’d probably be stupid to do so.
What do I have? A collection of data. I have information on local law enforcement corruption.
Dad’s last notes and cache. Footage of Kail and Esau vanishing.
One pic of him that was taken with his scars visible, I think.
More info if I dig. Though some of it is just my word against theirs, surely it will mean something to someone in the government or the intelligence community, if I send it to them?
“What are you doing?” Rasmus eventually asks.
Ron and Molly have been strangely quiet since I accused them of being something nefarious. I mean, who plants spy cameras aimed at research institutes?
“I sent in a request for an appointment.” My phone dings. “And they fucking well denied it. No times available.” I fastidiously type in a mildly irate request directly to his office. I tell whoever reads this to show their boss. “Trying again.”
Another ding happens. I swear a little. There’s a note appended threatening me, vaguely, with the publication of a video made of my activities. They have a video of that filthy amazing sex I had with Kail. Of course they do.
Despite the cat-induced calmness, my hand is making the phone shake.
“It’s a no again. How do I get in? How? Am I just going to march in and bang on their front doors?”
“You think he will have Kail and Esau killed, don’t you?” Ron asks. “This could get you killed properly, this time. Entering the lion’s den and all.”
“Yes, but he might dissect Kail for parts. Or worse. I won’t let that happen without a fight. I’m going in. Knowing Clay, it’ll be worse. And Esau, I don’t know.” Where do I get these macabre notions?
Rasmus has gone pale. “Hell. I might be able to help you get in even if they don’t want you there. We can do something more diabolical to their systems. I left a back door they might not have found. Just, there are no guarantees that you can get out again.”
We. I smile at how Rasmus says we, like he is royalty or something.
“My good sir, I’ll take it. Can you be ready by tomorrow at say eight AM again?
” He nods. “I’m going to put together an emergency dossier detailing everything we all know that might incriminate the institute in any way.
You can bundle it up and send it to every authority you can think of who might react and help us.
Just make sure it will explode out there if I don’t come back.
I will be threatening Clay with it, so it needs to be foolproof. ”
I just don’t know if I really do have enough to hang him with. If I’d been sure of this, I would already have done it.
“Sure. Can do.”
“We will help with that too.” Molly purses her mouth. “Finally, we get to do more than watch.”
I eye her. Another suggestive statement. How long have they been watching, and why? Who do they report to?
I punch in another message and tell his secretary, or whoever assists him, that I am coming to visit tomorrow, whether they want me to or not.
Then I lean back and give Squiggle well-earned pats. “That might be a mistake, but I told them I’m coming to see them, tomorrow. And I’m the only one who is doing this. It’s my idea and I just don’t see it as a brute force operation. Either my threat works, or it does not work.”
This threat could be parlayed by sending it as an email. We all know this. Yet no one is saying don’t.
It feels right. An email would get waved away, same as my appointment requests, and…
And I’ve reached the point where I don’t care about nuking Clay and the institute as much as I do about getting Kail and Esau back alive. Especially Kail.
I close my eyes for a moment to absorb the shock of this. That isn’t bad. He’s alive, and my dad is gone.
“This is madness, Hailey,” Molly says, all matter-of-factly. Ron sneaks his hand over hers as if to reassure her that all will be right. She places her other hand over his.
I envy them their love.
“Yep. It is madness, but it’s the good and right and moral kind. I need to do this.”
It’s funny, but everyone is smiling. There is a twinkle in Molly’s eye and a slight smile in the curve of her mouth. I bet she would’ve come with me if she were younger. With guns blazing too.
I smirk at the image that evokes.
There is hope.
Assuming I don’t get murderated. Clay has a habit of doing this. Murderated…it’s an invented word I have a liking for.
Can I do it to him instead, please, mister and missus gods of alternate worlds? Squeeze in some killing for me, please.
Just when I think I have it all sorted, Ron and Molly stand up, a little shakily on Ron’s part, but with no wheelchairs, no canes, and I can see a deathly stillness to them that I’m sure is not good.
“No,” Molly says.
“Not on our watch,” Ron agrees. “There is something we can do to help. If you go in alone, it is suicide. Let me tell you how this will go down. It might take an extra few days to organize.”
“Do we have that much time?” I say softly.
No one answers but Squiggle Cat reaches up to treadle his forepaws on my chest, his claws mostly sheathed, his big shiny cat eyes on mine, as if to say, you’ll be okay.
I draw a tremulous breath and pat him. “Thank you.”