Trained by Sansa Rayne

Chapter 14

“In today’s final story, Karthik Pai was laid to rest at a small, private ceremony,” I say, reading directly from the prompter. “According to information released by the family, only his wife and two children attended. They reportedly wished to keep the public from disrupting the proceedings, as the extent of Pai’s crimes has led to a swell of public outrage.”

Does anyone really think people would have shown up at a funeral uninvited? Did Karthik’s family think so? The idea is ludicrous. It’s not like the family had anything to do with the KPP exploit.

“The family said in a statement that they would appreciate a continued respect for them in their time of mourning.”

I can just see the eyes rolling, considering Karthik’s exploit helped violate millions of people’s privacy. Not a lot of sympathy has been expressed toward him in the days since his death. I hardly knew him back at the Enclave, but another dead Master is another step toward my freedom.

Sadly, today I also take a step back: it’s Friday, and after the show I’m headed to the island for the weekend, as usual. Then again, there’s a good chance I’ll see Colette. Maybe she’ll tell me what she knows.

Additionally, I can’t help feel a morbid curiosity about the Masters. Are they afraid right now? Are they waiting to see who will be picked off next? Has Anton killed any of them without the rest of us knowing it? I shouldn’t want to spend another second on that island, but I’d like to find out what’s become of their little paradise.

“Thank you, everyone, that’s our show,” I conclude. “Remember what I always say: never stop asking questions. You can learn something from everyone and everything from someone. We’ll see you next week!”

With the show over, the guards take me to the limo. Anton’s inside waiting.

“Surprised I’m here?” he asks as the guards cuff my wrists.

“Yes, sir.” Shouldn’t he be at the island?

“I was cleaning up Karthik’s mess,” he explains. “Establishing new routes into the Internet’s infrastructure and rebuilding the access we once had. It required some hands-on attention at Innovative AF.”

Anton didn’t ask me a question, so I keep my head down. When he continues, he’s already anticipated my thought.

“You’re wondering why I told you that. Mainly, because it doesn’t matter if you know — it’s the sort of thing you could have guessed on your own because it’s exactly what I needed to do. The second is that Anarchy, Inc wouldn’t expect me to show up in person. I could have handled my business remotely, from the Enclave. Coming to Manhattan was the less preferable choice. Therefore, it was less predictable. If I’m going to defeat Death, I must accept the possibility that for once I’ve been out-planned. Acting less predictably could throw off my foe and put him on the defensive. What do you think of that?”

I can’t help my dark smirk.

“I think you should stick a gun in your mouth and pull the trigger. Death would never predict that either.”

Anton laughs.

“See? I wouldn’t have imagined, after all you’ve been through, that you would still have the capacity for humor — or that you’d dare risk my ire. Sometimes I wonder if I made a mistake writing you off as a lost cause. I could have turned you into a very valuable asset, instead of a clown. Perhaps if I’d done a better job of turning you against Ingram, you would have served me willingly. I could have used the ear of someone with such a different mental… approach.”

“That was never going to happen,” I grumble.

“No, probably not. But I’m still fascinated by your recklessness. Like, when you went to the bank and created your insurance policy, you had to know it could get you killed. This was very clear to you. Yet you did it anyway. Explain to me the thought process behind that.”

It was nine months ago, but it may as well have been another lifetime. I could castigate myself, call myself an idiot for taking a foolish risk with my life, but it never mattered anyway. Anton was always planning to destroy Ingram — and me, by association.

“I knew I was going to mess up,” I say. “My need to rebel never went away. I thought I could keep the insurance policy secret, that no one would know. And it would sate my need to fight back in some small way.”

“So you knew you were going to act in a manner that could get you killed, but then rather than simply stopping yourself from doing it, you found an alternative… that might also get you killed.”

“I needed leverage,” I say. “A last card I could play in an emergency. And if you did kill me, the information would go to the authorities, so it would be worth it.”

Anton sighs.

“So you rationalized what you were doing until you could justify making a mistake.”

That’s one way of looking at it.

“My father’s alcoholism never made sense to me,” he continues. “I can drink and not have it affect me. I never feel compelled to drink. I don’t feel compelled to do anything. That’s not normal, is it?”

“I don’t know.”

I’m not exactly a psychologist.

“If it isn’t normal, then it should be. Whenever my father got drunk and hurt my mother, I couldn’t help but wonder, why couldn’t he just choose not to drink? He always regretted it the next day. He begged for forgiveness and pledged not to let it happen again, but it always did. Did he not mean what he said? I thought he did, but he never lived up to it. Would it be that difficult for him to recognize his actions and decide not to drink again?”

“No, not really. It’s a disease. Otherwise, it wouldn’t be a problem.”

“I guess that’s a part of the human experience I’ll never comprehend,” Anton says.

Hard to disagree with that. Plus, it’s nice to think of Anton as not being fully human.

“Can I ask you something?” I say.

He nods.

“Why did you murder Madeleine?”

I won’t pretend I knew her all that well or have spent much time mourning her. But, she was a good person and didn’t deserve to be killed. I’d like to know why he did it. All this time has passed, he’s never so much as mentioned her and I’ve never had an opportunity to have an actual conversation with him. He’s never seemed to want one. There is a difference in him now — a vulnerability. Not that I expect him to care about my opinion of him. I certainly couldn’t hate him any more than I do already.

And besides, who would I tell?

“We were having sex,” he says at last. “She called out Ingram’s name instead of mine. It pissed me off.”

Maybe I shouldn’t have asked. If I wasn’t cuffed, I might try something reckless now too.

“You wouldn’t call that impulsive?” I snarl. “You didn’t feel compelled to do that?”

He bites his lip.

“Yes, you’re right. It was a rare lapse in discipline. I should have punished her for that, not killed her. A rage came out of me I thought I’d buried with what was left of Simon. Maybe being near Ingram again woke it up. I regretted it after. But, there were no consequences.”

We’ll see about that, motherfucker.

“Does that satisfy your curiosity?” he asks.

“It’s good to know you were just angry,” I mutter. “And not that you got off on killing or something.”

He laughs, but it’s a dark grunt more than a sign of mirth.

“No, nothing like that. I do enjoy killing, but as you know, it’s not a compulsion. There’s always a reason: someone stands in the way of a goal, or they’ve failed me in some way — or simply that I don’t like them.”

No, that’s not crazy or anything. He has reasons…

“So I could try to kill you, and you’d understand it’s because I don’t like you?”

His smile widens.

“I wouldn’t let it happen, but of course I’d understand it. And you wouldn’t dare. You’ve learned a remarkable amount of self-control since we first met. Out of necessity, obviously.”

Yes, it was.

He’s right, I guess. I’ve survived this long by doing exactly as I’m told. It’s not even hard anymore — just an instinct, thanks to Ingram’s training. I’m glad to have learned good discipline at long last, but it’s little comfort now.

We don’t speak much the rest of the ride to the airstrip. However, before we arrive, Anton’s phone rings.

“Hello?”

His eyes widen.

“Are you tracing the call?”

Is that Ingram? I’ve been waiting for his next move. I had hoped to hear from him in some form ever since we last spoke on my show, but then Karthik wound up dead.

“Okay, put him through.”

I force my face to remain impassive — inquiring and interested, but not excited or eager.

Anton taps his phone, then balances it on his knee.

“I’m listening,” he says. “So is Kate Atwood.”

“If I had known you’d do such a good job getting billionaires to kill themselves,” says an electronically scrambled voice, “I would have called in to your show years ago.”

“Are you calling to gloat?” asks Anton.

“No,” says Death. “I wanted Karthik to turn himself in and tell the NSA exactly what he did. He belonged in jail after years of very public trials. Instead, he enjoyed a quick and easy exit.”

“I promise you, it was neither quick nor easy,” Anton snarls. “And I thought you didn’t care about justice. Only chaos.”

“I think we both know how chaotic a public trial would have been,” Death counters. “The names he would have revealed to cut himself a deal… you couldn’t have allowed that though, could you?”

“What do you want?” says Anton. “Out with it already.”

“An interview with Kate.”

“What?” Anton laughs. “Why?”

“As you’ve demonstrated, people are confused about Anarchy, Inc.’s goals. Some call us vigilantes, others call us terrorists. It’s time we clarified our intentions. Breaking the shackles of control is about more than just killing a few billionaires. If the world focuses on our methods, they won’t hear our message. But they listen to Kate Atwood.”

This has to be a trick — a way to get me out of Anton’s clutches.

“Why are you asking me?” Anton says. “You could have called the press line at LPN. They’ll arrange it for you.”

Death laughs.

“Please. We’re well aware of her implanted tracking devices. They would lead you straight to us. They’ll have to be removed.”

“Fuck off. Do you think I’m stupid? Delivering Kate on a platter so you could hold her hostage or execute her? She’s a shackle of control to you, isn’t she?”

“I have no interest in hurting her. I want the world to listen. That means having Kate do her job.”

Anton sighs.

“You’ve been avoiding the obvious question,” he says. “What’s in this for me? Why would I let her out of my sight?”

Death chuckles.

“You’ve seen what I can do. You’ve seen where this is headed. I could give you a chance to be part of our fight, rather than one of its targets. Innovative AF’s telecommunication technology can be used to disseminate information to billions of people. We’ll get what we want and you’ll get to live.”

There’s no way Ingram would actually do that — it’s a bluff. And Anton wouldn’t fall for it, if he knew who Death really was… but he doesn’t, does he?

“You really think you’re going to win this fight?” Anton asks.

“Have you checked the score lately, Mr. Ford?”

Anton works his jaw, glaring out the limo’s window.

“We can disable Kate’s trackers temporarily,” he says.

I hold my breath, waiting on Ingram’s response. Is this what he’d hoped for? I wish I knew what he’s thinking.

“That’s acceptable,” Death says. “But we will have her actively scanned at all times. If we detect a signal, we’ll terminate her immediately. So, do we have a deal?”

“Maybe. I just have one other question: how do you know so much about me and my associates?”

Death laughs.

“A series of events unfortunate for you, Mr. Ford. We wanted Hamza Bin Khaled’s missiles, but we were outbid. So, we shot him and took them. A survivor of the attack told us about your intended targets, Thor and Waterston. So we decided to conduct the test in your stead. Before they died, Mr. Thor and Mr. Waterston told us about you. They told us a great deal.”

Anton pounds a fist against the seat next to him, a curse under his breath.

“I need an answer, Mr. Ford.”

“I’ll let you know soon,” he replies. “I have to consider the ramifications fully.”

“Consider them quickly. You have one hour to decide.”

The connection goes dead.

I don’t say anything. This could be the moment that decides whether or not I escape now or possibly never. I shouldn’t seem too eager. But if I’m against it, maybe Anton will agree. Anton must conclude that this is a good idea, on his own.

“If I let them have you, anything could happen,” he says. “They could kill you, or they could give you the exclusive of your career.”

“I wouldn’t call what I do a career.”

“You’d pass on an opportunity like this?”

“It’s risky,” I say, looking down at my feet. “I’ve told so many lies because of you. What if they want to expose me as a fraud and sentence me to death? Like you said, I’m a shackle of control. I’ll do it if you force me to, but I don’t trust them.”

Anton nods.

“I agree. That’s a distinct possibility. However, if you talk to them, you might learn more about their plans — something I could use to stop them. Is that worth potentially losing you? I admit, this isn’t an easy decision — though it should be.”

“What do you mean?”

Grinning, Anton stares at me, his gaze piercing.

“Remember what I said about knowing the correct choice and simply making it, regardless of how you feel? That’s what I’m forced to do now, and for once I want to follow my instinct. I’d like to keep you and continue to torment you, but it’s utterly unjustifiable. Rationally, I understand that I need to defeat Death. I have to take him seriously as a threat to my power. If sending you into the lion’s den can help me destroy him, that’s a worthwhile risk. You’re not a strategic asset, you’re a toy I play with. My fondness for hurting you can’t supersede my need to survive.”

Does that mean he’s going to let me go? If he always follows logical choice, that would mean he will — but is this the one time he follows his desire instead? I’m afraid to say anything, not knowing how I might tip the scale.

For several minutes he thinks to himself. Sweat beads on my forehead, as though I’m carrying a priceless vase. Time slows to a crawl.

“Death’s made me an offer,” Anton says at last. “Give him what he wants and survive — oppose him or die. Perhaps a similar arrangement is justified for us: Kate, if you can bring me the information I need to defeat him, I will make your life something bearable. I can’t let you go free, but I could give you a life of tranquil isolation instead of constant humiliation. Rationally, I know Ingram is dead. It doesn’t matter now whether I hurt you or not.”

My heart pounds. I close my eyes and force myself to breathe.

“I won’t fail you, sir,” I say.

Anton leans over and taps on the glass partition; after a moment, the driver lowers it.

“Nick, take us back to the city and cancel our flight. We’re staying in Manhattan for now.”