“Briar.” Cosgrove gives me a pleading look. “Think about this, please.”
I give him a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry, Professor. This is the right choice for me.”
Straps adjusted, I reshoulder my pack and make sure the pistol is secure in my waistband.
I can’t stay here and do nothing when my parents might be in danger. My mother’s message sounded like goodbye, but if there’s even a chance I can help them, I have to try.
3
“The woman who betrayed you will only be remembered as a traitor. Your new wife is a credit to you. I send my heartfelt congratulations on the birth of your son. Given your wife’s beauty, I’m sure you’ll be expecting another one soon.”
—Excerpt from a message from New America President Soren Whitman to New America Supreme Commander Lochlan Murphy
Briar
The next morning, Amira and I are the last ones to arrive at the meeting room for a briefing of Command Team One. It’s deliberate—I didn’t want to make small talk with Marcus nearby.
He’s sitting on a stool, his feet flat on the ground since he’s so tall. As always, he looks good. He’s wearing one of his trademark gray T-shirts, the sleeves hugging his biceps. His hair is getting longish, a few dark strands hanging close to his eyes.
The rest of Command Team One’s members—Nova, Adele, Chase, and Wyatt—are sitting in chairs around the small table in the center of the room. Amira and I take two empty chairs.
Marcus only glances at me for a second before saying, “Let’s get started.”
“We need to check on Niran,” Nova says.
Marcus crosses his thick arms over his chest, shaking his head. “It’s risky enough having one person there. We can’t send more.”
Niran has been surveilling Rising Tide for two weeks now. He checks in over the radio daily when he can. I didn’t realize there was an issue.
“Has he not checked in?” I ask.
“Not for the past two days.”
It’s the closest Marcus has come to speaking to me since Pax told me the truth about him. His complete indifference makes me rage inwardly. How fucking dare he not be as upset about what happened between us as I am?
“Why are we sitting on our asses, then?” I say sharply. “If he didn’t check in, they might’ve found him.”
He could be at the bottom of the hole Virginia imprisoned me in when I was at Rising Tide, getting pissed on and denied water. This is the kind of information that should have been shared with all of us the first day he didn’t check in.
“Niran knew the risks.” Marcus’s deep voice is taut with aggravation.
Everyone in the room seems to hold their breath. The rest of them won’t risk pissing Marcus off. But I’ve never been great at blindly following anyone’s lead.
Marcus didn’t want him to go. He told Niran he was sending Nova to spy on the Tiders, and that made Niran so angry that he stormed out of camp with nothing but a canteen, a radio, and a promise to check in daily if he could. The two of them are morealike than Marcus realizes. Not only in looks and age—Niran is almost as tall as Marcus and a little lankier, with a panty-melting smile—but in the way they both want to call the shots.
“So what?” I pinch my brows together. “We’re not just leaving him. He wouldn’t leave us.”
He narrows his eyes, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “I’m not—” An alarm blares from the main area of the Sub, silencing him.
“Fucking great,” he mutters.
It’s the camp-wide alarm that means a boat of prisoners has been spotted approaching the island. This is the first one since Virginia’s death upset the balance of power at Rising Tide.
“This is perfect timing,” I say. “We can go get Niran while they’re all on the beach. A prisoner boat helped me escape their camp.”
“No.” His tone is decisive, of course. It always is. “We’re going to the beach.”
“So more of our people can be slaughtered and we can get a dozen new people to take care of?”
