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Howling and spitting, the man groped to get his door open. Isabela relaxed her stranglehold with the seat belt enough so he could push the door open.
Before he was halfway out, Isabela yanked the door closed with her telekinesis. His head went through the window. He slumped there, head and one shoulder out the window, seat belt still looped around his neck, broken glass stuck in his face. Unconscious.
Now, Isabela moved quickly. Taking out this fool was one thing, but she didn’t want to get spotted by the local authorities or some random bystanders. That would make a mess.
She shape-shifted back to her preferred form, lifted both of her feet and kicked the guy out of his car. She exited right behind him, pulling him along towards Dr. Linda’s vehicle. Moments later, the Foundation idiot was laid out in Linda’s trunk, tied up with ripped shreds of his leather jacket. Isabela riffled through his pockets.
In his wallet, she found an ID for Alejandro Regerio. His real name or an alias? Isabela had no way of knowing. He had a local address, at least, so that would be her next lead. He also carried three hundred dollars cash, a pair of credit cards, a condom, and a half dozen punch cards to local taco trucks.
“Mr. Foundation,” Isabela murmured. “You are so basic.”
She took his gun and attached the holster to her own chest. It was a nice one—chrome plated and polished, with an ivory grip. Fancy firearm hadn’t helped him much. She also took his cell phone, which looked like a burner.
Isabela peered down at Alejandro, trying to get a good idea of his face. She’d messed him up pretty bad. In the end, she needed to consult his ID to make sure she got the details of his features correct.
When Isabela slammed the hood closed on Dr. Linda’s car, she did so as Alejandro Regerio. Foundation fixer.
That was easy. She wondered how far up the ranks she could climb like this.
Busting Alejandro’s window had been an oversight. True, it had been totally badass and felt great, but now Isabela had to dust all the broken glass off the seat, and she couldn’t roll up the window.
Hopefully, he had another ride stored back at his pad. He seemed like the type.
Isabela navigated towards the address on Alejandro’s ID. It wasn’t far, only about thirty minutes up into the hills, according to the GPS. She drove like she imagined Alejandro would, slouched, her elbow jutting out the window, shifting gears with exaggerated force like she was in a street-racing movie. Getting into character. She’d only met the man for a few minutes, but she had a pretty good grip on how he talked and acted.
Before ascending into the hills, Isabela picked up Dr. Linda’s satellite phone. She dialed the number she’d been forced to memorize—the one they’d all been forced to memorize after their last excursion off campus. Nine’s cell phone.
“Who’s this?” he asked gruffly after the third ring.
“Is that how you answer your phone?” Isabela replied, her normal voice issuing from Alejandro’s mouth.
“Isabela?” he exclaimed, then made an effort to lower his voice. “Where are you?”
“Off campus. But you knew we’d do that, didn’t you? Bad boy, giving Taylor your key card.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Mm-hmm. I left a little present for you in the trunk of Linda’s car.” She gave him the address of the surf shop, unable to keep the smile out of her voice. “No one will notice he’s missing. Because he’s not.”
“What did you do?” Nine asked quietly. “This isn’t the plan we discussed . . .”
She snorted. “What plan? That went bye-bye with Ran, Kopano, and Nigel. I’m in. Taylor’s in. For infiltration class I think we should get As, yes?”
“We made arrangements for Taylor,” Nine said. “We have ways of keeping her safe.”
“I can handle my own protection. You know this.”
Isabela could hear Nine grinding his teeth, but when he spoke again she could hear something else in his voice—pride, maybe a little respect. The big doofus loved charging into battle. Of course he approved of Isabela’s play.
“Isabela, seriously, if things get dangerous—”
“Don’t worry,” she cut him off. “Escaping unpleasant situations comes very easy to me.”
With that, she hung up the phone. That was enough talk.
Isabela cruised into the hills, whipping over the winding roads at a breakneck pace. Her plan was simple. She would find this guy’s house and go through his shit. She’d dig up whatever she could about the Foundation and send it back to the Academy. Then, she would find Alejandro’s supervisor or boss or whatever, and do the same thing to that person that she had just done to Alejandro. Rinse and repeat, until there was no more Foundation to worry about.
It was a solid plan, she thought.
However, it did not account for a large man in a hooded sweatshirt walking into the road right in front of her.
He was like an apparition, emerging from the trees on the side of the road without warning. Isabela shouted and cranked the wheel to the left, slamming on the brake. The back of the Camaro lifted and jerked, fishtailing, as she swerved.
It happened too fast. She hit the guy at thirty miles per hour.
The impact was like she’d driven into a telephone pole. The front of the car buckled around the hooded figure’s body. Isabela was thrown forward. Her airbag deployed, but she still smashed her face, could immediately feel warm blood creeping down from her eyebrow and the bridge of her nose.
Black smoke curled up from the engine. Isabela’s eyes were filled with tears, but she blinked them back. Her head was swimming—a concussion, for sure. She felt her grip on Alejandro’s appearance slipping and tried to focus.
Through the cracked windshield, she saw the hooded figure struggling to free himself from the car. He was wedged in there pretty good. He was also alive. How was that possible? What the hell had she just hit?
Isabela didn’t wait around to find out. She scrambled out of the car and staggered desperately towards the trees, trying to put some distance between her and the attacker.
“Running will only make it worse, Alejandro.”
Isabela wiped blood out of her eyes. There was a boy on the side of the road. He was smartly dressed, his hair parted from the side, and spoke with a faint European accent. She’d never met him before, but she knew him immediately.
“Don’t look so surprised,” Einar said. “Surely your bosses told you I might pay a visit.”
“Merda, merda, merda,” Isabela spat and kept running. She knew that to listen to this boy was death. He would control her and—
As she reached the trees, someone grabbed her by the throat. A third attacker. Female, skinny and tall, Asian. An electric pulse ripped through Isabela, her whole body convulsing. The girl’s touch was like a lightning bolt.
Isabela fell and, as she did, she lost control. She was Alejandro when the girl touched her, but Isabela when she hit the ground. Not her preferred form of Isabela either. Her embarrassing, hideously scarred true shape.
Isabela tried to rally, tried to use her telekinesis, shape-shift, something—but the voltage combined with the head injuries were too much. She was already starting to fade when the three attackers gathered around her.
“Well,” Einar declared. “Isn’t this a surprise?”
Chapter Twenty
KOPANO OKEKE
UNDISCLOSED LOCATION
“KOPANO!”
His head hurt. His eyelids were too heavy to open, limbs sluggish and numb. All Kopano wanted to do was go back to sleep.
“Kopano! Are you in there?”
Someone was shouting his name. A girl’s voice. Sounded like trouble.
“Can you hear me?”
With a groan, Kopano managed to open his eyes. He stared up at a single uncovered fluorescent light flickering in a water-stained ceiling that he didn’t recognize. His head felt clogged, like when he’d come down with a flu back home and his mom would force him to drin
k cough syrup. Where was he? What happened to him? He tried to remember.
A nice Peacekeeper in his room. She found some of Caleb’s old cologne or something? Sprayed it in his face?
