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“Allow me, Amelia,” Charles interrupts. “Listen, I know you have no reason to trust me. I work for the enemy, I get it.”
“Do you, Charles,” I snarl. “Do you get it?”
“I do. You must understand, I’m working for the Syndicate for Amelia. I’m not one of them. I have a skillset that they need and she needs… and what Amelia does here? The Fallen? They aren’t just working to take down the Syndicate, but all the customers as well. You have to understand, if we just take out the Syndicate, then these people simply find someone else to supply them. Someone else rises to power and we’re back to the mess all over again.”
“You let him think he was alone!” I spin to face Amelia, “And you, you let her go in there as what? Some kind of undercover project? This is fucked. It’s all fucked!”
“Come on, kid,” Arsenal interrupts.
My eyes flick from him over to Travis who shrugs his shoulders and gives me an empathetic look.
“This isn’t our world, we don’t need to understand any of it. But Charles can get us inside. So let’s hear him. Let’s hear him out, and let’s prepare to go to war and get the men you love back. Once they’re home, be mad all you want. Rage. Hit the dude in the fucking face, I don’t care. But let’s just get them back first.”
“Fine,” I grit through my teeth. “Continue, Charles.”
It makes my skin crawl that we are working with these people. That this is what we’ve resorted to. From the small bits of information that Hannah was willing to give me, this place that Amelia runs, this organization, they are like nothing I’ve ever seen. A society of female assassins known as the Fallen, and while they do take on paid hits, Amelia’s project for more than a decade has been working to take down the Syndicate.
Working to take them down from the inside out.
Charles was planted with them a long time ago, along with others. Charles and Amelia both have assured us that they can get us inside. Once inside, it’s up to us to take out the mercenaries and spring Cole and Zeke free. After the dust settles, they’ve promised us an all clear.
From what Charles is droning on and on about, the Syndicate set their eyes on Zeke when he began hacking into their systems. Charles was preparing to fake his own death, a slow dissolution to terminal cancer, and because of that the Hearst brothers, Cyrus and Wren, were in need of a replacement.
When they caught onto Zeke, instead of having him killed, they decided to recruit him. Well, I guess kidnap him was more like it. And Cole? He was merely collateral damage and a means to force Zeke’s cooperation.
“Listen, once you’re all out of there, I have had files doctored up which detail my miraculous recovery from the cancer. As soon as they know I’m not going anywhere, they won’t need Zeke anymore. I’ll fake his and Cole’s deaths on paper for the Syndicate, and they won’t press beyond that. I’ve been with them far too long for them to doubt me.”
“And they just get to keep on keeping on, huh? No consequences for them? No death? No fucking retribution?” I snap.
“It’s the way it has to be, Riot,” Hannah says softly, reaching out and placing her hand on my shoulder. “It’s a long game. One day it’ll all blow up. Just not today.”
Shrugging away from her grip, I lower my gaze to the ground. I can’t even spit out the words that I really want to say. Questioning how I’m supposed to continue lying to Zeke once they make it out alive. How I’m supposed to keep secrets so fucking monumental from the man I love.
The fact of the matter is, I won’t. I’ll break my promise, and I really don’t give a shit who it pisses off.
“Listen, once you’re all inside, and I’ve cut off all the comms, visuals, and essentially completely hijacked their systems, you won’t have long. But you can take those mercenaries on yourselves. It’s possible. Syndicate mercenaries are heavily armed and highly trained but the ones inside Grove House? They’ve gotten lazy over the years. No one challenges the Syndicate. So they have gotten complacent.”
It sounds like a suicide mission. Probably because it is one. Entering the expansive mansion in the valley with no way to communicate with one another, and no visuals. But what other choice do we have? I need to get them back. This is our only option.
“Boss?” I glance over at Travis, waiting for him to chime in. Waiting for him to say something, anything, because I can’t be the only one who’s concerned. I can’t be the only one with doubts.
“Spencer, you’ll protect her while we’re inside, Amelia?”
“Of course,” she nods.
“And you and Charles can both guarantee us that the Syndicate isn’t coming back to Havok Hills with guns blazing, looking for a war?”
“It’ll be handled,” Charles nods.
“They won’t follow,” Amelia adds. “I have more on the inside than you know about. My influence runs far deeper than you could ever imagine.”
“And Ellie?”
“I’m sorry Riot,” Amelia sighs. “She stays.”
Snow falls softly in large, fluffy flakes and as I strap the bulletproof vest to my chest, I’m hit with flashbacks of the night Zeke was shot. I’m reminded of the way something as simple and beautiful as the snow became twisted and ugly, full of nightmares. A river of red, forever ruining winter in my mind.
I don’t know if I should take tonight’s snow as a sign that things will in fact be okay, just as they were when Zeke survived; or if I should take it as an omen that the night will end in bloodshed. The question is whose blood will it be?