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Shaking off the warning I’ve heard at least ten thousand times, I step out into a spotless, windowless hallway. Unauthorized areas are any of those accessed through the large, misted-gray, glass double doors to my left.
Not a problem. I go right. Nothing against Internal Security, but I learned a healthy respect for them growing up. They’re kind of the cops of my adolescence, led by Leland. I respect their rules.Now. Going against them is a line I rarely cross. Well, not after that time with Gracie. I shudder to think about it. Teens think having a parent pull you out of a party is bad—ha. They have no idea. Being a teenager with an attitude and a deep, dark family secret was hell.
My senses make their normal adjustment to the new environment. It feels… off. Sound doesn’t travel the same way. Maybe it’s the muffled ear feeling. This deep underground, the loudest sounds are the rhythmic humming breaths of the ventilation system.
The air is dull and manufactured, I prefer the floor above this, 4A. Not just because the gym and gun range are there, but because it isn’t so stiff. This is an authoritarian prick of a floor, strict and watchful.
With a bare knuckle tap on Momma’s office door, I enter before getting a response. Once inside, I instantly feel better. Momma’s office makes up for the lack of decorations on this level. It’s kind of a testament to Momma’s colorful soul and upbringing.
Thick, hand-woven rugs splashed with bright colors decorate the floor. Ornaments of every conceivable hue line the built-in bookcases. Lush, gold damask wallpaper, sub-Saharan artwork, elephant lamps, brightly painted masks, and a delicate, hand-carved desk of bleached wood complete the room.
Wearing a silver silk niqab, Momma works at her desk. Seated before her, in one of the two robin’s-egg-blue chairs, Leland works on an iPad. Probably monitoring the many security cameras, though he usually does that from the command center in Internal. He probably jogged over here when he realized I was on my way down.
Momma raises her head. “Justice. Welcome home.” Her eyes are bright and pleased to see me. It’s a look that she has bestowed on me from the first moment we met. A look that won’t deny her love for me.
But I can’t get sucked into the comfort of her and the attention she so freely lavishes on family. “I need to talk to you.”
As dapper as the silver suit he wears, Leland stands and puts the iPad down before walking around to sit on the corner of Momma’s desk. Not sure why he doesn’t just wear a T-shirt that saysTeam Mukta.
No need. These two are spookily coordinated. Seriously, her niqab almost matches his suit. Do they talk about these things or does it just happen?
Hyperaware under their gazes, I can even feel the fibers in my socks as I walk across the room. I kiss Momma on her silk-lined cheek and get a whiff of the flowery, earthy richness of her signature scent, Une Rose.
I nod slightly to Leland, and he points at the chair he’d been sitting in. “Please sit down.”
Please? Okay. That’s different.
I sit. The chair’s still warm from Leland. Hot even.Huh—I’m in the hot seat. Shit. That isn’t funny. What is it about these two that makes me feel like a goofy kid?
I inhale a deep breath then release it to keep from laughing. I need to keep control of this situation and its topics.
“I know you want details on the mission, but I need to talk to you about Sandesh.”
Leland shakes his head. “First, you listen.”
Okay… Again, different. Usually, after a botched mission, they want to question me for hours.
Showing her nerves, Momma tugs at the fabric draped across her shoulder. “Yes. We need to discuss your young man.”
That’s why I’m here to discuss Sandesh, but that “your young man” thing has my shoulder blades itching. This doesn’t sound good.
I make eye contact with them before drawing a line. “Momma. Leland. I won’t stand for you taking his memories. I won’t.”
“Calm down and listen,” Leland says. “Sandesh is with Gracie.”
“Gracie!” I jolt to my feet. Nightmare. “Where? When?”
Poor Sandesh. I have to rescue him.
“Sit down, Justice,” Momma says. “And let us explain.”
I sit and cross legs that feel dull and heavy. Gracie has my… What is Sandesh to me?Great laysounds a bit cold. “Why Gracie? She could be behind all this.”
“If she is,” Leland says, “she won’t like the fact that we’re bringing a man into the organization. Your man. Especially when we made her give up hers.”
So smart. So damn manipulative. They’ve put Sandesh in the line of fire with Gracie. And Tony. Neither will like some random guy—wait.What? “You’re bringing Sandesh in?”
Momma shifts in her seat. “Yes. It is imperative for his safety and our security.”
