Chương 2
The two MPs behind Claire exchanged a glance.
Neither lowered his weapon.
Jonathan handed the microphone back to the Marine.
“Names.”
The older MP blinked. “Sir?”
“Your names.”
“Chief Master-at-Arms Serrano.”
The younger one said, “MA2 Willis, sir.”
Jonathan nodded once. “Chief Serrano, do you believe I’m under duress?”
Serrano glanced at Claire.
Jonathan waited.
The chief had the broad shoulders and tired eyes of somebody old enough to know that the safest answer was not always the correct one.
“No, sir.”
“Do you believe Captain Voss is presently threatening me?”
“No, sir.”
“Then you will accompany us to Cell Seven.”
Willis shifted. “Admiral, Commander Kane has security authority aboard—”
“And I am giving you a direct order in your presence.”
There was a beat.
“Yes, sir.”
Jonathan turned to Claire.
“Can you walk?”
She almost laughed.
It came out as one breath.
“I got here.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
Claire looked down at herself. Torn shirt. Blood under her fingernails. One knee of her camouflage trousers black with grease. Her left boot had started filling with blood somewhere during the climb from the lower compartments, although she had no memory of cutting her ankle.
“I can walk.”
The medic stepped forward.
“Captain, I need to check your pupils.”
“No.”
“Ma’am—”
“No needles.”
“I didn’t say anything about needles.”
Claire stared at him.
The medic stopped.
Something in her expression made the answer clear enough.
Jonathan noticed.
So did Serrano.
Claire hated that they had noticed.
The medic softened his voice. “No needles. I just want to look at you.”
She allowed him to raise a small light toward one eye.
Her body moved backward before she decided to move.
A memory hit her without context.
White ceiling.
A clear tube.
Somebody saying, Don’t make her fight it.
Then nothing.
Claire slapped the medic’s hand away.
He did not protest.
“Sorry,” she said.
“You don’t sound sorry.”
“I’m working on it.”
The medic looked at Jonathan. “She needs treatment.”
“So does my son.”
“If he exists,” Willis said quietly.
Claire heard him.
She was too tired to be angry.
“That’s fair.”
The unexpected answer made Willis look embarrassed.
Serrano bent and picked up the recorder.
Its casing had split farther when it hit the deck. One corner hung open, exposing the battery compartment.
“Don’t play it,” Claire said.
Serrano looked at her.
“Why?”
“Because I don’t know how much power is left.”
“You recorded the message?”
“Daniel did.”
“You saw him do it?”
Claire opened her mouth.
Nothing came.
Ten minutes ago was clear in pieces.
Daniel’s beard.
His bare feet.
A fluorescent tube flickering above him.
His fingers pushing the coin into her hand.
A sound in the corridor.
The recorder.
His voice.
After that, doors. Ladders. Pain.
Before that—
She could not tell whether an image was a memory or something her mind had built around fear.
“I saw him,” she said.
Serrano waited.
“That isn’t the same answer.”
“I know.”
Jonathan looked at her sharply.
Claire wiped blood from her mouth with the back of her wrist.
“I don’t know what they did to me.”
The admiral’s weathered face seemed older under the red emergency lights.
“Then we start with what you do know.”
Kane’s announcement repeated over the ship.
Claire turned toward the sealed bulkhead.
“Cell Seven is below the forward electronic warfare spaces.”
Serrano frowned. “There are no detention cells there.”
“There are now.”
“How did you get out?”
“Daniel opened my door.”
“From his cell?”
“No.”
“Then where was he?”
Claire looked at him.
“I don’t know.”
Serrano’s jaw tightened.
“You’re asking us to walk into a secured compartment based on things you can’t remember.”
Claire pushed the coin toward him.
“I’m asking you to find out why somebody engraved my name on a dead man’s coin.”
Jonathan said, “We’re going.”
The emergency lighting did not restore the elevators, so they took ladders.
Jonathan’s polished shoes were useless on wet steel.
Claire noticed because she needed something ordinary to notice.
On the second ladder down, the admiral’s left foot slipped.
Serrano caught his elbow.
Jonathan pulled away immediately.
“I have it.”
Serrano said, “Of course, sir.”
Claire almost smiled.
Jonathan saw.
“Something funny, Captain?”
“Your shoes.”
He looked down at them.
“They were appropriate when I put them on.”
“For a flight deck?”
“For firing people in conference rooms.”
Willis made a noise that might have been a cough.
The moment vanished when Claire reached the next landing.
She stopped so abruptly Serrano nearly walked into her.
The corridor ahead was narrow and washed in red.
A rectangular panel sat at shoulder height beside a watertight door.
Claire stared at it.
“What?” Jonathan asked.
“I’ve been here.”
“You said Cell Seven is two decks below.”
“It is.”
“Then what is this?”
Her hand had already risen toward a patch of discolored paint beneath the panel.
She touched it.
Her fingers found two shallow grooves.
A voice moved through her memory.
Claire, tell me your full name.
Captain Claire Elise Voss.
Again.
Captain Claire Elise Voss.
Who gave you the coin?
Daniel.
Which Daniel?
She pulled her hand away.
Jonathan watched her.
“What did you remember?”
“Nothing useful.”
“Don’t decide that for me.”
She looked at him.
“You hit me thirty seconds after seeing me for the first time in six years. You don’t get to be offended because I’m not processing this on your preferred schedule.”
Serrano’s eyes went toward the deck.
Willis suddenly became very interested in the bulkhead.
Jonathan stood still.
The ship’s alarm pulsed between them.
Then he said, “You’re right.”
Claire had been prepared for almost anything except that.
Jonathan continued down the ladder.
She followed.
Two decks below, they encountered the first locked security door.
Serrano tried his access card.
Red light.
Willis tried his.
Red.
Jonathan entered an admiral-level code at the keypad.
The screen displayed ACCESS SUSPENDED.
“Kane,” Serrano said.
Jonathan’s mouth tightened.
Claire looked toward the overhead cable run.
May you like
“There’s another entrance.”
“How do you know?”
