Three (Article 5 #3)(91)

When the man’s fingers found my collar I jerked back so hard the chair nearly tipped. Tucker rushed forward to catch me, and for the briefest of moments our eyes met. His lips parted briefly.

The man folded back my collar, exposing my whole left shoulder. With the same gentle touch he removed my necklace, then what remained of my bandage and tossed them to the floor. I whimpered through my teeth before I choked down the sound.

“Very nice, sergeant,” the man said, feeling the raised scabs from DeWitt’s knife. “You were right. She is connected. Despite what the other one says.”

I forced myself not to react.

“Thank you, sir,” said New Guy.

“What was his name?” asked the man.

“Jennings,” said Tucker after a moment.

I jerked involuntarily at his name. He was here.

“Ah,” said the man in charge. “You’re probably wondering if he’s alive.”

I stared straight ahead.

“He is. And he will continue to remain so if you answer a few of my questions.”

“Like I believe you,” I said, despite myself.

“Reformation is built on honor,” he smiled. “Had you completed rehabilitation, you might have known that.”

I nearly laughed.

“How long have you worked for the rebel organization Three, Ms. Miller?” He lowered so that our gazes held a straight line. His breath was rank with onions, but his teeth were impeccably clean.

I turned my face away.

He stood slowly. Then wheeled back and slapped me.

My vision exploded in fireworks of color. The skin felt like it had been ripped off the side of my face. Tucker caught me again; I hadn’t even noticed the chair had tilted over on two legs.

The man cleared his throat. “Captain Morris, your knife please.”

Tucker released the chair and stepped toward the man, handing him the switchblade from his utility belt. I stared at the gun in his holster, willing it into my hands.

“No, no, you keep it.”

Tucker hesitated, but the older man had already turned back to me. He swung my necklace in front of my face, a blur of silver and gold. Behind him, over his right shoulder, the camera stayed pointed in my direction.

“All right, Ms. Miller, we’re going to make this quick, because as you undoubtedly have heard, I have a party to attend.”

Chancellor Reinhardt, I realized. The Chief of Reformation. I nearly laughed. I’d made it into the Charlotte base after all. If DeWitt had only known I’d be within inches of the most hated man in the FBR.

“What is Three planning? Why issue this pathetic call to join the resistance and fight? And don’t say my assassination, because you’ve already tried and failed.”

I forced myself to smile. We’d heard of the attempt on his life when we were in Knoxville. What a shame that he’d recovered.

“You need to think about it. I understand. Captain Morris, was she an Article Four Violator? I forget these things.”

Tucker leaned over me, the marks from the beating I’d thought he’d endured as a prisoner still marring his jaw. A bead of sweat dripped down his brow and splashed on my swollen cheek, and I focused on the single gold star pinned beneath his name badge. With one hand he held my shoulder still; with the other, he brought the knife to my skin and slowly carved a line into the flesh, close to the three DeWitt had left.

I didn’t make a sound. But the adrenaline scored through my veins, making me shake.

“I’m going to ask you a second time, Ms. Miller. What is Three planning?”

I stared straight ahead. I thought of Chase, walking barefoot on the beach. Sneaking through my window at home. Combing his fingers through my hair.

Reinhardt sighed. “No, that’s right. Article 5 violation. That’s what Ember Miller was charged with.”

Tucker leaned down again.

“I should have killed you when I had the chance,” I whispered.

Tucker cut me again—a swipe crossing the others—and this time I did cry out.

“That must hurt,” said the chief with a wince. “You know we’ve captured your leader, correct? Three is finished. There’s no need to continue to protect him. He didn’t protect you, after all.” The chief crouched down before my chair. “He sold you out. He told us where your posts were hidden. He told us where to find your base in the Red Zone.”

DeWitt couldn’t be the one ratting out the posts. He’d only just been captured.

“Yes,” said the Chief, as if reading my mind. “Aiden DeWitt’s been in contact with me for some time now.”

Don’t listen to him, I told myself. I thought of Sean finding Rebecca, going to Mexico. I’d miss them.

“It was luck, really. We didn’t realize Carolyn was his daughter when Captain Morris brought her to us for the sniper murders. She wasn’t in our cells for more than a week when DeWitt called me on the radio. Funny how people pop up when you’ve got something they want.”

Rebecca had told me the doctor and his wife had been hiding Article violators, and that when the MM came his daughter had supposedly been killed in the crossfire. He’d taken down five soldiers in response.

We’re not so different, you know. They took my mom, too. For harboring the enemy.

I pictured Cara as I’d last seen her—broken and beaten and woozy with pain pills, but under that I saw a different girl, one who was young and pretty, with dirty blond hair. I saw how she might laugh without bitterness, and smile warmly.