Forsaken Duty (Red Team #9)(92)

“Then go.”

The second boy ran down the tunnel, leading Ace away. Owen hated sending her alone. Santo was a sneaky bastard who’d manipulated her most of her teen years, and did so again a few weeks ago. But he couldn’t leave Addy unguarded.



Ace hurried after the boy, trying to move as silently as he did, as silently as Santo had taught her to. The boy ducked into one of the tunnels leading to an unrenovated silo, then pointed to a small offshoot from it, like the one Owen was in at the other tower. Ace felt the hairs rise on her neck, sensing Santo before she ever saw him. She dropped her flashlight, letting it light the little stretch of tunnel indirectly.

It caught the white wool of Santo’s homespun outer robe. His beard was the same color. He was an old man. And she was going to kill him. The facts were comforting to her.

“Hello, Grandpa.”

“Figured you knew who I was when your brother came looking for me,” Santo said.

“Did you? Why didn’t you give yourself up?”

“There’s only one way out of this game.”

“It’s no game.”

“It is if one of its players decides it is.”

“So because Jason Parker says it’s a game, it is?”

“When you end up playing by default, yes.”

“You know I’m going to kill you.”

“It seems appropriate. I don’t have a lot of fight left in me.”

“I just want to know why,” Ace said.

“Why what?”

“Why you took me from my crib. Why you left me with the monsters.”

“I don’t have an answer that would pass your strict sense of justice. I did it because having you in the tunnels with me gave me a cause, a reason to keep fighting.”

“You did it because you didn’t want to be alone?”

“You find that surprising? Jason would say you were my game piece.”

“You had two pieces in the game. Me and Greer.”

“Better to cover as many bases as possible. The truth is that this thing is bigger than you or me or any family. The Omnis are going to gut the world with their new technology. The only people who will survive them are the ones who know how to fight. You are a fighter. Your brother is a fighter. I feel I’ve done right by you.”

Ace scoffed. “Are you going to surrender? Or are you going to fight?”

“Surrender.”

That answer disappointed her, actually. But Owen wanted these bastards alive. So be it. “Then lie down on your stomach and put your hands behind you.” He did as she requested. She took out a set of zip cuffs and knelt on his thigh. Next thing she knew, he shifted and kicked her head, knocking her over.

She rolled over and sprang to her feet. He moved like a man half his age. She ran at him, launching her knee into his chest. He stepped back, moving with her momentum, then came at her fast, his hands slicing through the air. She blocked him each time, but his energy was escalating. She could feel him leading into a kick. Before he could, she ducked and swiped her feet into his, tangling him up. Her full range of motion was hampered by her arm cast and the heavy operations gear she was wearing.

He leapt to his feet. “What happened to your arm?”

A wash of guilt flooded her. “Edwards’ goons got a good hit in.”

“You let them.”

“I let them nothing. They got the jump on me.”

“I taught you better than that.”

In the seconds between his words and his next advance, Ace wondered if her love for Val and her new found comfort had softened her, stealing her edge. She didn’t have time to process that thought before Santo was on her again. Maneuvering in the cluttered space of the tunnel took focus.

The moves they made were familiar. They each got in some good strikes, and they each made good blocks. It was like dancing with an old friend. Ace’s heart softened toward Santo, and she realized that was not a weakness. It was honor. Val had taught her to see her own value. And because she could see it in herself, she could see it in others.

Santo had taught her hate and vengeance. Val had taught her love.

She felt her grandfather slowing his attack and tried again to get through to him. “We don’t have to fight. It doesn’t have end this way. You have valuable knowledge. Surrender. Please. Grandpa.”

He pressed forward hard. Their encounter became less of an exercise and more of a fight. And when that shift happened, she didn’t take time to consider it—he’d taught her not to. A shift like that was lethal. She didn’t want either of them hurt. Her best bet was to let him wear himself out.

She executed a couple of backward flips, escaping his brutal kicks and punches. When there was a little space between them, she fought for her breath. “Love doesn’t weaken, Grandpa. Did you never learn that?”

“I learned there are things bigger than oneself.”

“Things worth abandoning your honor for?”

“We all make sacrifices for a greater good.”

“What about me? Was I nothing to you?”

“You were my sacrifice. Of course you had meaning.”

“But what kind of meaning?”

Thankfully, their conversation gave them both a moment to regroup. If she could keep him talking, she might be able to get through to him.