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Mostly? What a joke. “Bridget, the ‘mostly’ is what we’re worried about. Girls like Cee and Juliette and Bella would’ve died without our intervention. They need us to fight for them, not hole up in a mansion and burn sage. Do you seriously think society is going to change because we askednicely?”
A sad, small smile tugs at the corners of her mouth. “I guess we’ll see. With the FBI here, it’s not likely we’ll resume clandestine operations. Let’s see what happens when we put the full ingenuity and talent of The Guild into peaceful and lawful operations designed to rescue, change laws, and see laws enforced.”
Fury races back. “You think what you did worked? You think dropping bombs on the school, gentle bombs because no one was killed, was the right thing to do?”
Under her glasses, her eyes fill with obvious confusion. She shakes her head. “You have my word that that wasn’t me.” She looks around at Momma and Leland. “You have to believe that I would never… It must’ve been Walid’s men. You just informed me they were here.”
I want to believe she’s lying. I do. But I can tell she’s not. Besides, why lie about this when she’s admitted everything else? Cooper must’ve given Walid’s men something, enough information that they were able to program the drones, but not enough that they’d been able to hurt anyone. Maybe, Gracie was right. Maybe, it was a message. A message I plan on ignoring.
I don’t have to ask what Momma or Leland think of this new information. It’s in their faces. Now that we know Bridget didn’t operate the drones, we all know what has to be done. FBI or no FBI. Walid must die.
Bridget stands. “Please,” she says, an edge of desperation in her voice, because she knows too. “let’s consider another way. We could turn the information we have over to the police. We could…”
She trails off when no one bothers to even look in her direction. She’s out. Done. And we won’t be taking her advice on operations. After a moment, there’s a knock at the door. We all know what that knock means. Internal Security is here.
Bridget’s gaze sweeps over to Momma. Their gazes lock again. A tear traces a wet path down Momma’s niqab. My heart breaks for her. I can’t recall the last time I saw Momma cry. My throat grows tight with grief and fury. Momma exhales a long, low breath and says, “You will be kept under guard until we can make arrangements for your M-erasure.”
Stiffening as she inhales deeply, Bridget turns and walks to the door. She doesn’t look back when she whispers, “I’m sorry, Momma.”
She opens the door. Eugie, a member of Mantua Home Internal Security, is there, ready to isolate Bridget and keep her out of the way. Until things are clear with the FBI, until we can M-erase Bridget, eradicating her memories of her own betrayal, she has to be our prisoner.
Bridget steps out and the door closes with a click as final as a knife in the back. Sandesh puts a hand on my shoulder. “You okay?”
I shrug him off. “Yeah.”
He reaches out and with his thumb wipes moisture from my cheek. He shows it to me. “Are you sure?”
I swallow. The gaping pain of sorrow and despair overwhelms me, pinches my throat, squeezes my chest. Tears spring to my eyes, and I turn into him.
He grabs me, sweeps me up, holding me to his chest as the first sob breaks from my soul. He holds me until the last tear falls and there are no more sobs… no more strength, no more energy for rage.
46
SANDESH
Aweek after her sister admitted to betraying her, I’m standing in my bedroom in a tux, getting ready for Justice’s thirtieth birthday bash. What we’re about to do makes me extremely uncomfortable.
“Crap, this bowtie isn’t cooperating.”
“I think the problem is with your shaking hands. Need help?”
I glance at Victor sitting on my bed, digging into a bag of Lay’s salt-and-vinegar chips. “Hell, no. Keep those greasy paws to yourself and don’t eat on my bed.”
Victor pops in a handful of chips. “I think you should calm down. It’s a fiesta.”
That’s what he thinks. The party is incidental to the real goal of giving the FBI the slip. What was it Mukta said?
“This is what we do. Like a magician, we distract with one hand so no one looks at what we’re doing with the other. In this case, the FBI will have their hands full with the guest list for Justice’s birthday party, so they won’t pay attention to your antics.”
Our antics being Justice and I getting hot and heavy on the dance floor, so when we leave, everyone will assume that we’re leaving to fuck, instead of the truth that we’re flying to Mexico so Justice can assassinate a human trafficker.
Sneaking off together will start a lot of press and rumors. Press and rumors Mukta and Leland are set to help fan the flames of, solidifying their efforts to use me and the IPT as cover. That’s not something I can share with Victor. It’s also not something I like, but it’s what’s needed to get Walid, and to keep Justice and her family safe.
I finally get the tie right and turn to Victor.
He shakes his head. “It’s lopsided.” Sprawled out across my gray comforter, he licks his fingers. “Are you ready for the information my informant dug up now?
I turn back to the mirror attached to the door of my bedroom closet. He’s right. Dammit. I try again. “Yeah. What did you find out?”
