The Gender War (The Gender Game #4)(43)

Of course, this meant we needed Thomas. His hacking skills made him essential for this mission to even have a chance of success. I looked at Owen.

“Hey, you still haven’t heard from Thomas yet?” I asked.

Owen shook his head, his attention on the road. “Not yet. I’m getting really worried, Violet. I know he thinks it’s almost impossible to get to us, and he hates taking action that will risk his own life, but he’s risking his life just by staying there. Desmond or the Patrians will find him while they’re investigating the bombings, and either way it’ll be bad.” He considered this for a moment, and then his eyes widened. “I wonder if she wants to frame him,” he said.

I nodded. “The next time he calls, you should—”

I paused as a high-pitched beeping sound blared through the cab.

“It’s the handheld!” Owen said, and he reached into his pocket, pulling it out. “Speak of the devil.” His eyes flicked over the screen long enough to see the name. “Can you take this?”

I was dubious as I accepted the handheld—Thomas and I did not have the best of relationships. Still, better me than Owen while he was driving. I carefully held the rather unfamiliar device in my left hand, and Amber came out of her sullen stillness to help me hit the button on the screen, connecting us.

“Owen, I—” came Thomas’ nasal voice over the line, followed by a pause as the video feeds synced up. “Oh, it’s you. Where’s Owen?”

His devotion to the blond man clearly made me pale in comparison, but that was okay by me. I tilted the small lens toward Owen. “He’s driving, but he can hear you,” I said. “Go ahead.”

“You were right,” Thomas practically wailed. “The fires in the warehouse district have gotten out of control, and in several sectors, the motion sensors I placed in the surrounding tunnels have been going off. At this point it’s only a matter of time until they find me!”

Owen gritted his teeth and nodded tightly—not that Thomas could see. I answered for him. “Time to get out,” I announced. “Do you have an evacuation plan?”

“Yes,” he said. “I have a vehicle stashed away in one of the neighborhoods in town. I can access it by the tunnels. I’ll wipe all the hard drives and head out.”

I frowned and looked at Owen to see what he felt about all this. “What about Solomon?”

“What about him?” Thomas replied defensively, and I took in a breath, concerned.

“Thomas, you can’t leave him behind,” I said sternly. “He’s a member of our team, even if he’s not in his right mind, and we don’t leave each other behind.”

“He’s a liability right now,” Thomas said plaintively. “It’s going to be hard enough getting myself out of this mess. Adding another body, my chances go down to—”

I gritted my teeth. “This isn’t about equations and numbers, Thomas. This is about people.”

Owen looked at me, his worry plain on his face, then shot a pleading look at Amber. I gave her the handheld, and she cut through Thomas’ blustering response.

“Tom-Tom, please? Solomon could get better anytime—and he’d be useful to you in case somebody threatened you. Plus, things might get even worse if he were found by the regime. They could find a way to cure him, then torture him to find out what he knows… you never know! And come on,” she added, “we don’t want to hear that you died in a sewer like a rat.”

It sounded callous, but I could sense the concern in Amber’s voice. And maybe some gallows humor was what Thomas needed to hear, because his blustering changed tone slightly. I couldn’t quite tell, but I thought it was working.

I took the handheld back again, pressing further. “You worked with Solomon for a long time, Thomas, right? You know that if things were different, Solomon would do the same thing for you. And so would we.” I swallowed my pride. “We need you, Thomas. But we can’t leave Solomon behind. That would make us no better than the Patrians you hate,” I finished.

Thomas’ voice sounded surly, and I got the impression he was staring at the floor, not meeting my gaze. “That’s an argument based on sentiment, not on reason,” he said. “I find it distinctly unhelpful. However, if that’s what it takes to secure me a position within the safety of the group—and I can see that logic doesn’t sway you all—I suppose I can conform to the social norms… again. And there is the matter of him being used as a tactical weapon against us…”

Was that a concession? It was hard to tell through Thomas’ odd speech, but I thought it was. He wanted to talk to Amber again, and I happily gave her the handheld.

I turned back to the road, pleased that he’d agreed but frustrated that it had taken this amount of convincing. Working with Thomas was hard because he didn’t seem to have an ounce of concern for anyone but himself, and maybe Owen. It was going to be interesting to see what would happen if Thomas met Viggo.

At least the conversation had broken Amber out of her silence. She spent the better part of the next fifteen minutes soothing Thomas and continuing to build a plan with him. Despite her reticence about Desmond, I noticed that she seemed to care just as much about Solomon’s fate as I did.

Ending the call, she gave the handheld back to Owen. “Turn left at the next road,” she said, and Owen nodded.