of Llallana Noretski not as a target but as a victim.
“What if Greta gets to Lily before we do?” Amber asked.
“You leave Greta to me,” T said. “Reed?”
His reply was automatic. Everything was a state of mind, anyway. He was going into mission mode. “Standing and Ready,” he said.
* * *
Somebody was following her. Lily tightened the scarf around her neck as she continued walking to the bus stop.
She could feel a presence behind her. Or she was just being paranoid again.
Ever since she’d snuck into the library a month ago and done some research with the public computers, she hadn’t been able to shake off the growing sense that nothing was real. Too much information about things that had nothing to do with her world.
She could write the story of her life in a few sentences. A kidnapped girl. Rescued from a brothel. Grown up through shady means to become self-supporting. Now a rescuer of young girls kidnapped by mercenaries.
Not exactly a normal life by any means, but now she could add CIA sleeper cell somewhere in that paragraph. Rescued by the CIA, and, she’d thought, freed after a short stay to recuperate. How could she have known they’d messed with her mind? She wouldn’t have believed it possible at all if she didn’t have these memories now of what she’d done, what she’d believed to be the right thing while she’d been doing it.
When Brad had made her repeat some lines from some poem…Lily closed her eyes briefly at the thought of Brad. Oh God. What she’d done to Bradford Sun was totally unforgivable. But the man had tried to save her, had somehow known the code that would release her from whatever it was that was controlling her mind. If only she could remember what she’d said. That was the key—some poem. But she had no idea what that was, only that she’d said it at his prompting and then…everything had turned into a horrifying realization of what was in her possession and what she was planning to do.
She’d learned new terms from that website she’d found about sleeper cells. Whatever it was she had repeated was called a subconscious trigger. She bit down hard on her lower lip. They’d somehow hypnotized her and inserted it inside her head. How was that possible? She couldn’t remember any such sessions with the CIA.
Lily reached the bus stop and walked into the shelter. There were two other people sitting there—an older lady and a man, both reading as they waited for the bus. She sat down at the far end. If she was being followed, then she would either see a car or someone would join her on the bus.
No matter how paranoid she was, one thing was real. Many people were after her and what she had in her possession. She wasn’t sure whether they just wanted what she had or they wanted her too, but, either way, she would be damned if she was giving it to them.
Why would they want you? a voice in her head mocked. Because you belong to them.”
“I belong to no one!” Lily muttered fiercely, then looked up at the other two people in th station. She hadn’t meant to say that out loud. They looked at her curiously, and she gave a shrug in answer, as if nothing was wrong. They went back to their reading.
She looked up sharply at the sound of footsteps. A man stepped into the shelter. He was tall and broad, with a thick mustache. He nodded at them as he brushed off the drifts of snow on his thick jacket. Then he sat down in the middle of the bench.
Lily watched him put his hand in his right pocket. If he pulled out a weapon…
The headlights from the approaching bus shone into the booth. Everyone stood up. The man pulled out his hand. It was empty.
Lily lined up behind everyone and got on the bus, heading straight to the back. She could watch the other passengers in front and also look through the back window to make sure no vehicle was following.
She should have taken a taxi, like she had when she’d gone to the bank, but funds were low enough as it was. She
“What if Greta gets to Lily before we do?” Amber asked.
“You leave Greta to me,” T said. “Reed?”
His reply was automatic. Everything was a state of mind, anyway. He was going into mission mode. “Standing and Ready,” he said.
* * *
Somebody was following her. Lily tightened the scarf around her neck as she continued walking to the bus stop.
She could feel a presence behind her. Or she was just being paranoid again.
Ever since she’d snuck into the library a month ago and done some research with the public computers, she hadn’t been able to shake off the growing sense that nothing was real. Too much information about things that had nothing to do with her world.
She could write the story of her life in a few sentences. A kidnapped girl. Rescued from a brothel. Grown up through shady means to become self-supporting. Now a rescuer of young girls kidnapped by mercenaries.
Not exactly a normal life by any means, but now she could add CIA sleeper cell somewhere in that paragraph. Rescued by the CIA, and, she’d thought, freed after a short stay to recuperate. How could she have known they’d messed with her mind? She wouldn’t have believed it possible at all if she didn’t have these memories now of what she’d done, what she’d believed to be the right thing while she’d been doing it.
When Brad had made her repeat some lines from some poem…Lily closed her eyes briefly at the thought of Brad. Oh God. What she’d done to Bradford Sun was totally unforgivable. But the man had tried to save her, had somehow known the code that would release her from whatever it was that was controlling her mind. If only she could remember what she’d said. That was the key—some poem. But she had no idea what that was, only that she’d said it at his prompting and then…everything had turned into a horrifying realization of what was in her possession and what she was planning to do.
She’d learned new terms from that website she’d found about sleeper cells. Whatever it was she had repeated was called a subconscious trigger. She bit down hard on her lower lip. They’d somehow hypnotized her and inserted it inside her head. How was that possible? She couldn’t remember any such sessions with the CIA.
Lily reached the bus stop and walked into the shelter. There were two other people sitting there—an older lady and a man, both reading as they waited for the bus. She sat down at the far end. If she was being followed, then she would either see a car or someone would join her on the bus.
No matter how paranoid she was, one thing was real. Many people were after her and what she had in her possession. She wasn’t sure whether they just wanted what she had or they wanted her too, but, either way, she would be damned if she was giving it to them.
Why would they want you? a voice in her head mocked. Because you belong to them.”
“I belong to no one!” Lily muttered fiercely, then looked up at the other two people in th station. She hadn’t meant to say that out loud. They looked at her curiously, and she gave a shrug in answer, as if nothing was wrong. They went back to their reading.
She looked up sharply at the sound of footsteps. A man stepped into the shelter. He was tall and broad, with a thick mustache. He nodded at them as he brushed off the drifts of snow on his thick jacket. Then he sat down in the middle of the bench.
Lily watched him put his hand in his right pocket. If he pulled out a weapon…
The headlights from the approaching bus shone into the booth. Everyone stood up. The man pulled out his hand. It was empty.
Lily lined up behind everyone and got on the bus, heading straight to the back. She could watch the other passengers in front and also look through the back window to make sure no vehicle was following.
She should have taken a taxi, like she had when she’d gone to the bank, but funds were low enough as it was. She
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