Page 42 of Strange Lights

Wolff shifts uncomfortably. “I could try contacting someone, but I doubt they’ll reply.”

Gemma says scornfully, “Wolff here ruined things with a new point of contact we’d been on-boarding. He slept with her, and she ghosted him. Not that I’m still pissed about his unprofessional behavior. She said her name was Summer Raine, and he still fell for it.”

A flash of something that looks like pain flickers across Wolff’s face, and he remains uncharacteristically silent, not saying a word in his own defense. Since I’m not an asshole, I decide to leave well enough alone. Even Wolff doesn’t deserve to be teased about some things.

“You can have all my information,” Gemma says, handing me a flash drive, “but you’re on your own; there’s nothing else I can offer you. I’m sorry.”

“If I don’t come out⁠—” I pause.

“I’ll try to get Eldi out,” Gemma says. “If it comes to that, I’ll do it regardless of orders or authority.”

Wolff sighs. “I won’t stop you.” That’s the best I’ll get out of him.

“And if I don’t come out of Agency 51, promise me you’ll make sure the truth about them gets out. No matter what they do to me. It’s time someone took them down.”

“Getting a little dramatic, aren’t you?” Wolff says. Calvin shifts uncomfortably next to me, and Gemma narrows her eyes but makes her promises to me.

We return to the Winnebago but decide there’s no point in camping anywhere but the Waffle House parking lot.

“The agent that followed us,” Calvin asks me, “you know her from working at the agency, don’t you?”

I hesitate. “Agents operate alone. But she was . . . my partner, for lack of a better term. We worked together on a few projects.”

I’d hoped she would leave after I was gone, but that never happened.

“What did you do for them, Reggie?” Calvin asks.

“General research. A lot like what I do now, looking for creatures and things that they might find useful.”

“Why? Why would you work for them?”

These are dangerous topics.

“Because not everyone makes the best decisions when they’re young and on their own, Calvin. Not everyone has a family who cares, like yours, that they can fall back on,” I say a little nastily. “Some of us don’t always have a choice.”

“You always have a choice.”

I grunt noncommittally. What does he know? He’s never been in my shoes.

“And you left because of Eldi?”

“I left because of the idea of Eldi. Of the others like her who were hurt by Agency 51 and the Kingsleys. I left because I found out who I truly was, deep down, the core of myself. Eldi didn’t find her way to me until later.”

18

Secrets & Lies

When I left the agency, I didn’t think it was forever. I had an idea that maybe one day I’d go back for revenge. To finish what I started. But the cowardly parts of me procrastinated, hoping that Adele and Agency 51 would fall without my help. I metaphorically burned a lot of bridges on the way out, but I never stopped picturing the base up in smoke and flames, real-life fire, triumphantly standing by while it all turned to ash. My intention was to leave behind a gasoline-soaked pile of tinder, ready to burn the moment someone struck a match. But it seems⁠—especially now, after talking to Gemma and Wolff⁠—like no one decided to light that match.

For years, I’ve kept a closet full of disguises stored down in the Winnebago basement in case the opportunity to return to Agency headquarters ever arose. But nothing prepared me for the sight of Calvin in the sleek gray uniform and matching half face mask that is Agency 51 standard. The image unsettles me. After hesitation, I choose black for myself with the full face mask, the one that shows only my eyes. The color that clears a path through crowded hallways. A mask that averts eyes and smothers chatter. The uniform of Adele’s personal guard and of her closest allies. I can’t quite bring myself to look in the mirror.

I’ve recruited Doug and Dave. As far as I can tell, they understand the mission and the dangers. Doug and I have been able to develop a primitive code of yes and no signals to communicate. I think I’m going to teach him to read and write in English when I get a spare moment, but there’s no time for that now.

I’ve picked a remote entrance, one not even marked on the maps Gemma gave me⁠—a hidden tunnel tucked into a distinctive rock outcropping. We’re going to leave the Winnebago waiting outside the entrance, as the tunnel is barely big enough for a person to fit through, and certainly not an RV. Reliable and ever helpful Doug is coming with us, and chaos demon Dave is headed to the main entrance to cause as much distraction as he can.

“How’d you find the tunnel in?” Calvin questions when he notices it isn’t on the maps we have spread across the Winnebago’s kitchen table.

“Long story. What weapons are you comfortable using? I don’t think we should go into this unarmed.” I roll up the maps and lead him down to the armory, anything to delay his questions.