Trained by Sansa Rayne
Chapter 24
I follow Brendan’s trackers for hours, until I can’t stay awake any longer and fall asleep.
After Brendan and his driver, Stieg, met up with Stanislaw and Henrik at the rest stop, they drove another fifty miles on the freeway until we were sure no one on Anton’s end followed them. They ditched the car in a parking garage in a smallish upstate city to ensure they couldn’t be tracked on satellite. From there, they walked together well into the evening. Hiking through forest-covered Adirondack mountains, they followed common hiking trails and open wilderness, even trespassing on private property a few times for the sake of shortcuts. The only way they could have been followed was with dogs.
Approximately twenty miles from the compound, they camped out for a few hours’ rest. I smile to myself, imagining the conversation Brendan might have had with a handful of Scandinavian mercenaries. He would have had so many questions, and they probably didn’t say a word. Maybe they didn’t have any conversations, but that would be a shame.
“Kate, wake up,” Ingram says. “Eyal just left to pick them up. They’ll be here soon.”
I dress quickly, my grogginess quickly erased by adrenaline. By the time I finish cleaning up, I reach the compound gates with Ingram just in time to see the van arrive.
The four men climb out, smiling and clapping each other’s backs. At first, I almost can’t believe it’s Brendan: wearing camo hunting gear and a large pack on his back, his face looks grimy and sweaty. His hair has been cut extra short, and his arms look thicker — as if he’s been working out. It’s still him though. He gives me his faint, close-lipped smile, staring at me through the same thick glasses.
“Hey Kate,” he says.
I run at him and nearly knock him over with my hug. He smells like earth and pine, and he feels more toned. The last time I saw him, I never picked him for the type to hike for a day through the mountains. Like a lot of city dwellers, his idea of getting outside was Central Park. Although he has dealt with threats before, as reporters sometimes do when they dig into the dealings of the rich and powerful, his usual response would be to contact the authorities — not strike a deal with someone like Ingram.
“I can’t thank you enough for you what you did,” I tell him. “You’ve gone so far beyond, I can’t even put it into words.”
“You’re my friend,” he says, setting his hands on my shoulders. “I wanted to help.”
“You risked your life. After the way I treated you…”
Anton forced me to publicly denounce Brendan as a jealous ex-boyfriend. I had to file court orders to keep him from contacting me. Guests on Kate Atwood Live made him into a punchline and I had to laugh. It was disgusting.
“You’re a hero, Brendan.”
“I know,” he quips.
I laugh, letting him go.
“Seriously, Kate. I wish I could have done more. I knew this couldn’t be right. Everyone knew that something was happening to you, but they wrote it off as drugs and alcoholism. I wish I could have convinced people to look deeper. No one would touch it. They enjoyed watching the circus that became your life, rather than help. I’m sorry I failed to stop it.”
I shake my head, wiping away tears.
“You didn’t fail, Brendan. I’m here because you succeeded. You have nothing to be sorry for. Absolutely nothing. You did all you could, and now I’m free.”
He nods, then pulls me in for another hug.
“We have so much catching up to do,” I say. “Are you hungry?”
“Starving.”
“You two should go get breakfast,” says Ingram. “I have some final preparations to make. You go on ahead.”
“You sure?” I ask.
He nods.
“I’m sure. I told Anton we’d see him soon, and we will.”
—
At the cafeteria, the staff chef serves us a breakfast that would put a Jersey diner to shame: a cheesy omelet, pancakes, crispy bacon and golden, shredded hash browns — all of it delicious.
“Ingram’s story sounded insane,” Brendan says. “But it answered a lot of questions. I knew you weren’t an alcoholic. I knew that was bullshit, but what was I supposed to do? What was more believable: that you were making a false confession or that I was trying to get attention?”
I nod, my heart pounding. Even after such a long time, my blood still boils thinking about the day I went on Jenny Crandall’s show and lied to the world for the first time. Anton had to make my life miserable, it wasn’t fucked up enough already being under the Masters’ thumb.
And I wasn’t the only one he hurt.
“It was a relief to find out that this was all a show, that you were still yourself,” Brendan continues. “It was nice to be vindicated, to know I was right. Sometimes I wondered if I was fooling myself, pretending that what I was seeing wasn’t real. What if you weren’t putting on an act? What if I never really knew you as well as I thought?”
That must have been difficult. I would have given anything to tell him he was right, even if he had to keep it secret.
“But I refused to believe it. I blamed Ingram, actually. I knew he was involved in something bad, and so whatever was happening to you had to be his doing. I didn’t know the full extent of it, about Anton’s involvement. You can imagine my suspicion when Ingram came to see me and recruit me as his silent partner.”
“What made you decide to trust him?” I ask.
Brendan grunts a laugh.
“Well, he told me everything I’d need to put him in jail, should I go to the police. He certainly didn’t need to do that unless he needed my help. I never imagined working with him, but he seemed sincere enough about wanting to rescue you, and I doubted there would be a better chance for me to do something. I still had my reservations about Ingram’s methods, but it was clear he loved you, and that he would do anything for you. Most importantly, he had a plan.”
“It doesn’t bother you that you’ve assisted an organization that’s killed… well, a lot of people?” I ask. It would be nice if he had a good way to justify it — one of us should.
He shrugs, eating a few forkfuls of eggs.
“It’s a war, I guess,” he says. “We’re not hurting any innocent civilians. We’re fighting a dangerous criminal conspiracy. They have to be stopped for the good of the world, and we’re probably the only ones who can. Or we were, anyway. We have all the evidence we need to go to the authorities.”
“The Masters have influence in high places,” I say, shaking my head. “I don’t trust them not to shove this under the rug. We have to stop the Masters ourselves.”
“Possibly,” says Brendan. “I’ll trust Ingram’s judgment. I’m with you, either way. If this is what we have to do, I’m in.”
When we finish eating, I show Brendan around the compound.
“So you’ve never been here before?” I ask as we watch mercenaries training in the gym.
“No, never. I didn’t even know this was where they were headquartered. I figured they had a place not too far from the city, but I never asked and Ingram never told me. We were fairly careful on the phone, just in case. And we didn’t see each other in person very often. I had to assume I was being watched by Anton.”
“It’s no way to live, is it?”
He sighs.
“I can’t even imagine how bad that must have been for you. That whole time, watching every single word, every reaction… You must have been so tempted to get on the air and tell them everything.”
I point to my implant removal scars.
“I would have died. You too. If it was just me, I might have done it, but I couldn’t live with the idea that Anton would hurt you or anyone else because of my actions.”
“I appreciate that.”
“How’s John, by the way?” I ask. “I haven’t heard anything about him.”
Brendan turns to me, shaking his head.
“He’s still at LPN, but he didn’t take things well. He’s mad that you shut him out of your life; he has no idea it wasn’t up to you. I couldn’t dare tell him. We talked a lot back when you left to do the TV show. He didn’t understand why you did that, and he was mad that you wouldn’t talk about it.”
“Oh.”
He has every right to be upset. As a close friend of my father’s, John’s known me since I was a kid. We used to talk every day. For me to just cut him out of my life without warning must have been a dagger in his chest.
“It’ll be okay,” says Brendan. “Once he learns the truth, he’ll forgive you.”
“I hope so.”
“Kate… he and I said things in anger… things I regret. John will too.”
“Don’t even worry about that,” I say, taking his hand. “It doesn’t matter. A lot of people have said things about me, I’m sure. It’s not important.”
“But they think you’re a drugged-up nut job. How do you know they’ll believe the real story?”
“I don’t know. Maybe they won’t. But that’s not my biggest concern. Brendan, I’m just happy to be free. I’m happy the man I love is alive, and that my best friend is still my friend. What I want now is for my oldest friend to someday forgive me, and for Anton and the other Masters to pay for what they’ve done. Everything else will be extra.”
“We’re going to rehabilitate your image,” Brendan says. “I promise. Everything is going to come out.”
“Thanks.”
We’re about to make our way to the shooting range for some practice, but Ingram intercepts us before we get there.
“It’s time,” he says. “We have everything we need to finish Anton. We’re going to launch our next attack today. Eyal is preparing the jet — we’re going to the Enclave.”
Brendan flinches slightly at the pops of muffled gunfire coming from the range.
“I have no intention of putting either of you in any danger,” says Ingram. “We didn’t rescue you just to put you back in harm’s way. But you can watch from the command center.”
“No,” I say. “I’m coming too.”
“Kate, you know how many armed guards there are on the island. We’ll have a superior force, but there’s always a risk.”
“I’m not missing this. I’ll be careful to stay out of the fray, but I want to be there when we win.”
Ingram rubs his chin.
“You’re going to do everything I tell you,” he says. “Is that clear?”
“Fine,” I reply.
Ingram turns to Brendan and says, “You’re staying. I may need a rapid response from the media.”
“Sure,” he says, the relief obvious on his face.
“Good. Okay, Kate. Let’s go. You need to be outfitted.”
I take Brendan’s hand once more.
“Thank you, again, for everything,” I tell him. “Now get ready to publish the news story of your career.”