THAT NIGHT. OLYMPIA, NEW DISTRICT OF COLUMBIA. 10:30 PM PST. TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 25, 2025.
“You do realize you
are taking a huge risk by being here,” Allie said, coolly opening
the closet door in her bedroom to reveal Darcage.
It was the first time
she’d ever seen him at a loss for words.
“Did Daybreak tell
you to try again even though you hadn’t been able to get in the
last four times?” she asked. “Didn’t that make you worry that
Daybreak might be sacrificing you?”
“It would be an honor
to be sacrificed for Daybreak.” He stood, a little dignity
returning. “I am deep-trained,” he added. “You know what a seizure
is like in someone who is only partly recruited. You know how much
worse it is in someone like Ysabel Roth. You cannot take me
prisoner without sending me into a seizure that will be
fatal.”
“That’s what Daybreak
finds it useful for you to believe. Stop being melodramatic; if I
wanted to catch you, it would have been guards, not me, that opened
the closet door.” She perched on the edge of her desk, crossing her
legs and letting her skirt ride up. Hunh. I’d
get more reaction out of a gay zombie.
Interesting.
“Your husband the
president, and all his security people, must surely know that you
are meeting me and what we are talking about,” Darcage said.
“Perhaps I should just allow myself to think that I am hopelessly
caught and my death would be best for Daybreak.”
“You could do that
and you might die before our people sedated you,” Allie agreed.
“Why don’t you?”
“It would be better
to hear your offer first.”
“Come back through
the rear entrance at 10 a.m. sharp tomorrow morning. Don’t dress
tribal. No tricks. If they find a weapon on you they’ll kill you
right there. You have an appointment with me. I will tell you how
Daybreak can be useful to me, and you will carry the message back
to Daybreak, which will then either decide to be useful, or
not.”
“And if I
refuse?”
“Daybreak won’t. Now
go. Guards will take you out by a secret route.” The door opened
and two of the President’s Own Rangers, their ears swathed in
gauze, came in, nodded, and grabbed Darcage, pushing and shoving
him along, none too gently.
Graham came in and
said, “Well, we listened. I suppose I should be alarmed at how
convincing you sounded.”
“Just part of the
job,” she said. “Tomorrow morning will tell the tale, and as you
heard, there’s not much to analyze about the conversation. Early
bed tonight?”
“I’d like
that.”
As she brushed her
long, thick black hair, Allie watched herself in the mirror and
thought, Everyone keeps me in the game because
they think I might work for them. But who do I think I’m working for? She saw only her own smile
in the mirror.