9 - Shep
I walk out of the bunkhouse Saturday morning at three-thirty am and find Collin leaning against Amon’s truck, waiting for me. He doesn’t look particularly agitated, but it’s dark and there’s a light above him, shining down at an awkward angle. So it’s all very ominous.
Amon is in the driver’s seat, leaning back, looking up through the open sunroof like he’s deep in thought. Both of them are smoking, which strikes me as odd and I search my memory for another time I’ve seen them smoking, but I can’t really recall.
Collin smiles a little as I approach, then drops his smoke and stubs it out with the toe of his boot. He opens the front passenger door, and I expect him to get in, but he doesn’t. He pans a hand to it, inviting me to take the front seat.
In my experience, a man only wants to sit in the back when he needs to keep an eye on the person in front. He’s not carrying, at least not obviously, and that’s a relief, I guess. But none of this is a good sign.
“Thanks.” I sigh, sliding into the passenger seat.
Collin gets in behind me and sighs as well. “Let’s go.”
Amon flicks his smoke out the sunroof, presses a button to close it, and then swings the truck around towards the road.
Once we’re on the Loop Highway—heading north, I think—Collin says, “Are ya nervous?”
I scoff. “It’s three-thirty in the morning and we’re driving four hours to Pittsburgh to scan my brain while you administer a lie detector test. What do you think?”
“I think,” Amon says, “if I were you, I’d be thinking about coming clean before putting these guys—who are clearly not fucking around—through all this trouble just to figure you out.” He looks over at me and grins. “But that’s just me.”
I look out the window, frustrated. “I’m not lying. And anyway, you guys didn’t even ask me any questions other than the ones about Charlie. I was recruited.”
“We know,” Amon sneers.
“Well, I didn’t ask to be recruited.”
“We know,” Collin says. “This is the problem, Shep. Charlie and I are not in a good place. In fact, he’s rather irate with me. If he sent you here to fuck something up, the least you could do is tell Amon to stop the truck, get the fuck out, and just walk away.”
“Would save us a four-hour fuckin’ trip to Pennsylvania in the middle of the night,” Amon says.
“And a favor with Penny Rider,” Collin adds. “You know who Penny is?”
I nod, but don’t say anything. Everyone knows who Penny is. At least, everyone on our level. She does the intake background checks for all the dark ops. She’s also the one you go to when you need something and don’t know where to get it. I’ve never actually used her in that way, I don’t have that kind of clout, or money—she accepts both as payment—but I’ve done two interviews with her over the years. She’s not military, she’s a contractor out of DC, but she might as well be military. She’s been doing background checks for forty-two years. She knows everyone. Absolutely everyone.
“Now I owe her,” Amon says. “This is a huge ask.”
I blow out a breath, but just continue to look out the window. “Why didn’t you just ask Penny if I was cool?”
“We did,” Amon says.
“She says you are,” Collin adds.
“So what’s the problem?”
“She only knows what she knows, Shep,” Collin says.
“I’m not a fuckin’ operative sent here by Charlie Beaufort to spy on you or fuck up your shit. I’m just…” I exhale loudly. “I’m a fuck-up, just like the rest of them, Collin.” I turn in my seat to look at him. “I washed out, OK? Do you wanna hear all the details of how that happened? Do you wanna hear about the missions? Because I’ll tell you. But you know what that means. I don’t care if they find out I told you. I don’t even understand why I’m still alive, to be honest. But obviously, they’re not worried about me. It won’t be me they’re concerned about if I spill my whole history right here in this truck. It’ll be you .”
Then I turn around and neither Collin or Amon say anything back. They both know I’m right. You come in to this black ops stuff all curious. You think you wanna know all the secrets. You think it’s all cool spy shit. Gadgets and 007 Hollywood special effects.
But that’s not what it is. That’s not at all what it is, and both Collin and Amon have seen enough to know this. They don’t keep it all dark because they’re protecting their operatives. No. That’s not why. They keep it all dark because if the general population of America knew what their tax dollars were really being used for, there’d be a revolution. Tables would be flipped and shit would go down. People do things in the dark for a reason and it’s not just so others can’t see.
It’s so we can’t see either.
It’s so we have an excuse not to think about it.
Not to question it.
Not to regret it.
We end up at Carnegie Mellon University , some futuristic science building with lots of windows that looks like it came straight out of an old sci-fi movie. Penny meets us in the lobby and while Collin and Amon catch up, I stare at the weird-looking spiral ramp in the middle of the massive space.
“Shep?”
I turn and look at Penny, who is in her mid-sixties, at least, but looks healthy and fit for her age. “Yep. I’m ready.”
“We’re this way.” She turns and the three of us follow her to the bank of elevators. Once inside, Penny presses a green button on the bottom of the panel, then inserts a key.
I look over at Collin and Amon and find them both watching with raised eyebrows.
Interesting. Obviously, the green button indicates a highly secure area that is not generally accessible to the students or faculty here on campus. And the fact that it’s at the bottom of the panel means it’s in the basement.
My guess is right, because once the doors close, we descend and this descent is not quick. I count eight seconds, which probably correlates to seven to ten floors. Despite the raised eyebrows from Collin and Amon, it’s not that surprising that the machine would be below ground. This is where all the secrets live.
When the doors open, we exit and find ourselves in what appears to be a busy hospital. Penny leads the way, turning left, and we follow. Me first, then Collin, and Amon brings up the rear.
Penny stops in front of a double door and smiles at me. “You’re in here, Shep. Go on in and they’ll get you set up.”
I look at Collin. “Where are you guys gonna be?”
Penny is the one who answers. “They’ll be in the control room with me and the techs.” And then she dismisses me. “See you on the other side.” The three of them walk off and I let out a sigh, resigning myself to whatever comes next.
I’ve had MRIs before . Lots of them, actually. So most of it is really familiar. I change into a pair of generic sweats and a t-shirt. Obviously, I’m told to remain still during the entire test—which could take up to ninety minutes—but this isn’t just a scan, it’s a test. So I’m given a remote to hold with a single button. All the questions are yes or no. Press once for yes, two for no. If I make a mistake, I’m to repeatedly press the button until the question is repeated.
Of course they tell me to remain calm, but it’s not that easy when you’re stuffed inside a claustrophobic can and your immediate future depends on your answers.
The questions are familiar in that they are worded and ordered to try and catch inconsistencies. All of them are about Charlie, but some are more direct, while others are not. They are looking for brain activity. Specifically, deviations from the norm, whatever that is. So they are questions like— Have you ever lied about your interactions with Charlie? Do you trust Charlie Beaufort more than your current team? Have you communicated with Charlie Beaufort in the last year? Do you believe Charlie Beaufort has good intentions?
And they all require thinking. Which is the whole point, since they’re trying to ‘see’ my thoughts. So by the time I get done, nearly two hours have gone by and I’m exhausted.
I’m just pulling my jacket back on when Penny enters the little changing room.
She smiles at me, then closes the door and leans against it.
“What?” I say, dreading what comes next. “Did I fail?”
She presses her lips together and shakes her head. “No. You passed.”
“Then why are you here?”
She takes a step forward and turns. Then turns back. “You don’t owe me anything. But those boys out there do.”
“I guess. OK.”
“And I like you. I’ve always liked you.”
The fact that she’s got an opinion about me at all comes as a surprise since I’ve only met her twice and both encounters were less than extraordinary. “Penny, if you’ve got something to say, just say it.”
“All right. I do have something to say. It’s a two-parter. First, I know what your job was. I’ve looked at all your files. I know why you washed out and how you ended up in prison. It’s all very neat, and tidy, and in the records.”
“So what’s the second part?”
“The second part is that while you did pass, the tech noted some very unusual activity.”
“Great. So they’re gonna kick me out.”
“No. We didn’t tell Collin and Amon.”
“Why not?”
“Because you passed the test. You’re not working with Charlie. We’re a hundred percent sure of it and that’s what Collin and Amon were looking for. So we reported those facts, and they’re satisfied.”
I roll my hand in a ‘get on with it’ gesture. “But…?”
“But they’ve done something to you.”
My eyes narrow down. “ Who ?”
She presses her thin lips together again. “You know who. I can’t say, because I’m not supposed to know who. But you know who. What did they do to you? Did they give you an implant?”
“What?” I’m squintin’ pretty hard now. “What kind of implant?”
“You tell me.”
I shrug. “No. I mean, I don’t know. Did they see an implant in my brain?”
“No.”
I chuckle. “So what are you going on about?”
“It doesn’t need to be in your brain, Shep. In fact, at this point in time, it doesn’t even need to be an implant.”
I shake my head. “I don’t know, Penny. I don’t have any clue what you’re talkin’ about. I had plenty of health checks. My file should be very thick, so to speak. You know how it is. Once we sign those papers, we give up our autonomy. They say jump, I jump. They show up with a jab, I take the jab.”
Penny blows out a long breath. “Collin and Amon are not CORE. Did you know that?”
“Yes. I found out the day I got there. They ran a private army inside the US military.”
“Have you told them anything about CORE?”
“No.” This isn’t entirely true because I did admit to CORE when I was in the SCIF with Collin. But I didn’t tell him anything, so I’m not gonna mention it to Penny. “You know the rules.”
She nods. “I do. Just making sure you remember them too. They don’t go away just because you’re out, Shep.”
“I know that.”
“Good. Well.” She smiles. “That’s it. You passed. I just wanted to get your take on what we saw in your scan.” She puts up a hand, warding off my next question. “No, I won’t be mentioning it to Collin and Amon. As far as I’m concerned…”
She doesn’t finish. “But as far as you’re concerned, what?”
“I’m going to be looking into this. I doubt answers will come quickly since I need to be very careful. But when I figure it out—and I will figure it out…” She gives me a stern old-lady look over the top of her glasses. “You’ll be the second person to know.”
I don’t say much after Penny finishes and we join Collin and Amon at the elevators. The three of them converse freely, like we weren’t all here with an assumption—or, at least, the very real possibility—that I was some kind of spy.
Back up in the lobby, Penny says her goodbyes, then walks off in the opposite direction from where we came in. Collin, Amon, and I make our way back to the truck and this time Collin doesn’t get in the back. I do.
Which is a step forward, I suppose. At least he’s not worried about me literally stabbing him in the back on the ride home. Anyway, I’m glad I’m in the back because all I can think about is what Penny told me at the end.
… some very unusual activity .
She never did explain that. Not that I have the knowledge, or even the vocabulary, to understand any of the biological mods CORE does. But it would’ve been nice if I had a little more to go on.
Collin and Amon joke and talk on the way home, like it’s not that uncommon for them to spend an entire morning probing the brain of one of their recruits. And what do I know? Maybe all of them went through this?
I’ve been here one week and everyone has treated me like an outsider. All of them. None of the guys in my house even bothered to try and include me in their routines.
I showed up for PT every morning. I did all the training. I helped Ryan in the woods with his ditch digging. He’s laying pipes or something. Who knows, who cares. But there was no chatter or joking around with the guys in my unit. And I don’t even have a dog. Not that I came here expecting one, but it’s hard to not be jealous when everyone else in the entire place has a fucking dog.
Even Amon’s kid has a puppy to train.
So I don’t know.
Is this whole thing a mistake? Should I just pack my shit and move on? I mean, if they can’t trust me, I can’t trust them. It’s that simple. And that means this whole thing is a waste of time. My time, their time, everyone’s time is being wasted.
We don’t stop for lunch, but even so, it’s early evening by the time we get back to Trinity County. Four hours driving in, five fucking hours in that stupid research building, and then four hours back is a long day, so I’m not in the mood to do anything and my Saturday night plans involve hitting the sack.
But when we pull into Edge, every single guy is lined up along the driveway on both sides in their official units, and all of them are in dress uniform, black on black with the Edge logo and other patches they’ve earned affixed in various places. It’s not something they wear every day, especially on a Saturday night—and I don’t even have one, that’s how fucking well I fit in here—so I don’t understand what’s happening.
And then, as we pass the first group, they salute. All the units, on both sides of the driveway. I lean forward, between Collin and Amon. “What the fuck is going on?”
Neither of them answers, but Amon stops the truck and he and Collin both get out and stand in front of it, like they’re waiting for me. Nash, the fourth partner in this operation, comes up alongside them.
Am I being arrested?
I let out a long sigh, get out, and walk up to them. “What the fuck is this?”
Then, to my surprise, all three of them salute me .
“What are you doing?” I ask.
Collin steps forward, and we lock eyes. But he doesn’t say anything and then Ryan appears holding a neatly folded uniform flat in his hands, offering it to me. He yells, in his best drill instructor voice, “You’re out of fuckin’ uniform, soldier. This is an elite unit and you will respect our dress code.”
I raise my eyebrows, smiling.
“You think this is funny, you sorry-ass piece of shit? You have ninety seconds to get changed and every second you’re late, the entire team will do ten push-ups. So unless you wanna be looking over your shoulder, waiting for the retaliation that will surely come after, you had better get your ass changed now !”
I’m still smiling—and so are Collin, Amon, and Nash—when I kick off my boots, take off my clothes right there in front of everyone, and put the uniform on.
They all wait. No one says anything, and no one is keeping track of time. So I do it all right. I tuck in the shirt. I lace up the boots. And then I stand and salute.
Collin steps forward, offering me his hand. I shake it and he says, “Welcome to Edge. You had a shitty first week and that sucks. We’re all brothers here, Shep. And I’m sorry it started out this way, but it’s over now. You’re one of us.” Then he whistles and Amon’s boy steps forward, wearing his kid version of the Edge uniform, and leading his two-month-old puppy on a slip lead. He stops in front of me and hands me the leash.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“You don’t have a dog. I took your dog because we didn’t know you were coming, but everyone’s got to have a dog, Shep. So we’re gonna share. He’s the best. You’re gonna love him just as much as I do.” The little fucker actually salutes me.
And even though I’m not a dog person—or a kid person—I smile pretty big.
Amon comes over and claps me on the shoulder. “Everyone needs a dog.” Then he winks at me. “And a boy to keep him honest.”
All the men yell, raising their fists in the air, and music starts blaring over the PA system.
It’s a party.
Maybe even… a welcome home party.
Sunshine bright enough to fucking blind me wakes me up the next morning. Or is it afternoon? I open one eye, cautiously looking around. I’m on the porch of the house, which explains the sunlight, and my mouth tastes like I ate something dead last night.
I sit up, then remember the party and smile even though I’ve got a poundin’ in my head that feels strong enough to split it open.
It’s late morning, but even so, there’s no one around the compound. Just the sound of barking dogs down the driveway. Someone’s up—someone’s always up taking care of the dogs. But that’s it. Not even Collin or his guys are around. Hell, not even the women or the kid are around.
Helluva party. Really good party.
I look down at my new uniform and get an unexpected jolt of satisfaction out of it. I didn’t think it would matter to me, I really didn’t. But when we got home and I realized that they did all this for me? To make me feel like part of the team?
Yeah. It matters.
I stand up, yawn and stretch my arms up over my head, ready to go inside and pass out again in the dark bunkroom. But then I remember.
“Fuck.” I was supposed to meet that girl at the diner if I was still here today.
I go inside, pull out my phone to check the time, and realize it’s eleven twenty-two and I’m supposed to be in Revenant at noon.
Pausing at the bottom of the stairs, I wonder if I should just blow her off. She’s nothing to me, I’m nothing to her, and I’ve got a feeling that things will get complicated if I meet up with her now. It’s all so weird. In fact, everything about that girl is screaming ‘bad idea.’
She’s cute, I’ll give her that. But there’s definitely something strange goin’ on at that bar in the woods. She already admitted it was a honeypot, so my choice should be a simple one.
Stay away.
But then again, I might be able to get some good intel out of her. I bet Collin and his friends don’t know about that place yet. If they did, they would’ve warned us, and they haven’t. They definitely would’ve warned me, since I’m new here.
And anyway, I’m not going back there. I’m meeting her in Revenant. So I decide I will take a quick shower, ride the bike down and see if she’s still there because I’m definitely gonna be late, and if she is—then it’s a mission, not a date.
Satisfied with the plan, I go upstairs, shower, change, and twenty minutes later, I’m rolling onto the Loop Highway.
It’s quarter past noon when I ease into a parking spot down the street from the Revenant Diner and I’m fairly certain she’s not gonna be there when I walk inside. But to my surprise, she’s in a booth near the back.
The place is packed with families, mostly. It smells good though, and my stomach rumbles as I watch plates of food go by. The girl spies me from across the crowded room and smiles. Maybe even lets out a breath of relief, happy to not have been stood up.
I walk over to the table, set my helmet on the seat across from her and slide in next to it.
“Hey,” she says. “You came.”
I run my fingers through my hair, trying to rein it all in after the ride, and lean back into the seat. “I came.”
Before either of us can say anything else, a waitress appears. “He showed up! I told you he would.” The waitress—a middle-aged woman with lots of tattoos and big-time cleavage hanging out of her pink uniform—winks at me. “You had her worried.”
I shrug. “Well, I’m here now.”
“What can I get you two?” the waitress asks.
“Coffee,” I say. “Black.”
The girl smiles and lets out a breath, like she was holding it in. “I’ll have water with lemon.”
The waitress clicks her pen. “Be right back.”
I take my attention to the girl and get right to the point. “All right. I’m here. What did you want to tell me?”