The Legend (12 page)

“No,” I cut him short, knowing exactly what he is thinking. “Believe me, I would love nothing better than to get to Chicago and take Kenneth out. But he'll be ready for it. We need information, we need soldiers. We need to prepare and plan our attack.”

Previously, when I had the means to dispose of Eric Dane, we had hesitated because we did not want to incite public outrage. The Resistance wanted to expose Eric for the tyrant he was and so we proceeded with caution, working behind the scenes. Now that we have seen how easily Kenneth has taken Eric's place, we realise that the NUSA society is so conditioned to accepting what is foisted upon them, so accepting of their fate, that we can just as easily oust Kenneth and institute one of our own to take his place and bring about change. That is ultimately the plan, but I do not want to rush in blindly and attack Kenneth without any forethought or a concrete plan. There is too much at stake and Kenneth will be on high alert.

“You still sure about Adam?” Reed asks, reading my thoughts.

“Definitely,” I nod.

We had discussed this before I had been taken by Kenneth's men, and my opinion hadn't changed. Adam Vincent is the logical successor to Kenneth as President of the New United States. He is kind and compassionate, and he has dedicated his life to helping those in need. How much more could he do with the wealth of NUSA's resources at his disposal.

“He's certainly the best man for the job,” Reed has always agreed with me on this point, “but have you mentioned it to him yet?”

“No,” I grin. “Not yet.”

 

 

chapter 18

W
e set out for Jupiter's “lair”, as Reed calls it, at the same time the following morning. Despite my outward conviction, I do expect Jupiter to try to negotiate, so no one is more surprised than I am when the first words out of his mouth are, “You win, Miss Davis. I will accompany you into the Rebeldom.”

I give Reed a discreet “I told you so” look as Jupiter continues. “I am making this concession as a gesture of good faith. I do, however, expect your father to come back with me at some point and assist me with my work here. Unless you expect me to transport an entire aircraft back to your base?” I resist the urge to remind him that he probably could.

“Understood. And, Jupiter, I know you don't take sides but if you help me to defeat Kenneth Williams and take back the States, my father will help you build as many aeroplanes as your heart desires.”

Back at the Carlisles, Archer is again quiet and distant, but everything appears to be as it should. I put his sombre mood down to the fact that perhaps his courtship of Morgan is not going well. She, too, seems more pensive than usual, and more than once I catch her eyeing me thoughtfully.

“We leave tomorrow,” I say to the room at large, and Lucy Carlisle gives an exaggerated cry of relief. She is looking slightly the worse for wear – captivity doesn't suit her. Her normally perfectly coiffed hair is a tousled mess, and she is wearing a slightly too baggy tracksuit. She would never survive the Rebeldom, I think bitterly.

“What do you mean, tomorrow?” Morgan sounds horrified. “You said we would be here at least a week.”

“Things have progressed much faster than I expected,” I begin to explain and then I catch myself. “What's it to you, anyway?”

“Nothing,” she seems to regret her outburst. “It's nothing.”

“What's going on, Archer?” I ask softly as she stalks out of the room.

“Nothing,” he echoes Morgan, but I get the feeling they are both hiding something from me.

“Rebecca,” Chase calls from the passage and I follow him into the nearest bedroom. He shuts the door behind us and turns to face me.

“She's been going out,” he says bluntly. “Morgan. She was gone most of the day – yesterday too.”

“What?”

“I don't know where,” he explains, “but she spoke with Archer and then she left. I don't think he wants to mention it, he doesn't want her in trouble, but he's definitely not happy with it.”

I don't wait to hear any more. I yank the door open and stride further down the passage.

“Morgan!” I yell, furious. All the bedrooms are empty, save for one. Kwan is lying on the neatly made bed.

“What's going on?” he asks, getting to his feet.

“I'm going to kill that girl,” I mutter.

We search the entire house, but it's no use. Morgan is gone.

“Why the hell didn't you tell me she was going out?” I am so angry I am shaking.

“She asked me not to. She said she just needed to be by herself for a while, she needed time to think.”

“Dammit, Archer! You have put all of us at risk! If she's caught . . .”

“She won't get caught!” he insists, as though trying to convince himself.

“She can't have got far,” Kwan interrupts. “I'll go and look for her.”

“Where?” I ask, hopelessly. “She could be anywhere, we can't search the entire city.”

“You won't need to,” Michael says, his voice low. “I know where she is. I didn't think she was serious. I mean, yeah, she's been saying stuff . . . about you,” he adds apologetically. “She kept saying that you don't know what you're doing and that this whole war is pointless. She thinks that you're wrong about Kenneth Williams – she says that if he offered the Legion a place inside the boundaries, you had no right to turn him down on our behalf.”

“He would have killed our people!” I snap. “He only wanted our soldiers.”

“She doesn't believe that,” Michael explains, flinching at my obvious rage. “She thinks you were mistaken. She said that you rub people up the wrong way all the time. That you make mistakes all the time . . . her words, not mine!” he adds quickly as I snarl at him.

“Why didn't you tell me, Michael?” I ask, pulling myself together, although I know that I am effectively asking him why he didn't betray his sister, which is grossly unfair.

“I didn't think she was serious!” he insists. “You know Morgan, she loves being contrary. She's not happy unless she's lashing out at someone. I thought it would pass, I thought she'd calm down.”

“Where is she?”

“I think she's gone to our father.”

The thought that Morgan would seek out her father is shocking.

“Your father helped Eric Dane kidnap you!”

“Yeah, I know, but I didn't really come to any harm with Eric, did I? I mean, he didn't hurt me, he never used me. He was kinda cool, actually. Not that he didn't deserve to die,” he adds quickly.

“The only reason Eric didn't hurt you is because Rebecca didn't give him the chance,” Reed reproves softly. “She got both of you out of there before Eric could hurt either of you.”

“
I
know that,” Michael reminds us. “It's Morgan who's not convinced.”

“I'm going after her,” I announce and Kwan steps up beside me.

“I'm coming.”

I nod. Kwan has always been the one that Morgan respects the most – if anyone can get through to her, it's him. Reed also gets to his feet, as does Michael. I am faced with a predicament. Letting Michael come with us goes against every instinct, and yet we need him to take us to his childhood home.

“You stay close to Reed,” I tell him. “Jethro, you stay here and keep an eye on things. And you,” I turn to Archer, “do you think you could maybe
not
let anyone out of the house while we're gone?” He casts his eyes down and I take that as a yes. “Okay, let's go.”

Michael leads the way. Simon Kelly's house – the same house where the siblings resided with their mother until she passed away undergoing a procedure that would give her the capacity to heal – is a small modest home with a tidy lawn and white shutters. We take cover in a nearby garden and watch for about ten minutes, but there is no movement from the house and the street remains quiet.

“Do you think she's in there?” Michael asks.

“I have no idea, but there's only one way to find out. Michael, you stay here.” I emerge onto the street, searching for any signs of danger, but all is quiet. Reed and Kwan fall into step behind me, the only sound our soft footfalls on the tarmac.

As we draw nearer to the house, the sound of raised voices reaches us.

“Who were you calling?” Morgan's voice.

“Just a friend. I was supposed to meet him for lunch, but obviously I'm not going to make it.” A man answers, no doubt Morgan's father. There is an interminable pause and then, “Just tell me where they are, Morgan.”

“Why? What does it matter?”

“I've told you. We only want to talk to them – to explain. Rebecca has twisted everything. President Williams only wants to set the record straight. You know yourself how convincing she can be. It's not fair on the others who she's brainwashed. Maybe if we talk to them . . .”

“I'm not going to tell you where they are. You won't convince them. Those who are here are the ones most loyal to her. They'll never believe you, so there's no point in trying.”

I take small comfort in the fact that despite Morgan's abandoning us she will not give him the Carlisles' address. She obviously doesn't trust her father entirely if she won't divulge our location.

“Okay,” Simon Kelly concedes defeat. “Then at least tell me where the base is. We can help the others. Don't you want your brother to be safe?” He is targeting her weakness – her unconditional urge to protect Michael.

“How do I know I can trust you?”

“Morgan,” his despair is so convincing, “how can you even ask me that? I'm your father.”

“Your own wife didn't trust you,” Morgan reminds him, but I have heard enough. Testing the doorknob, confirming it is locked, I kick open the door and enter the house.

The two are standing in the living room, face to face, but their heads turn at the unexpected sound and Morgan's eyes widen in surprise.

“This conversation is over,” I say.

“Rebecca Dane.” Simon Kelly looks like the cat that got the cream, although a glimmer of fear sparks in his eyes.

“Morgan, what do you think you're doing?” Kwan's voice is heavy with disappointment and Morgan looks contrite for the briefest of seconds, before a determined, stubborn scowl settles on her pretty face.

“It's none of your business.”

“You're putting all of us at risk,” I correct. “Were you actually going to tell him? Where our people are? After what you saw in Nevada?”

When NUSA had attacked our Las Vegas headquarters Morgan's friend Hope had been killed by one of their soldiers. They had held our women and children hostage.

“That was all your fault!” she hisses, and even though we have never had the easiest relationship, I am startled by the venom in her voice. Her guilt is fuelling her anger. “They only wanted you! To put an end to your lies! And innocent people got hurt.”

“Morgan,” Kwan begins, but he is interrupted by a younger, more fervent voice.

“Have you completely lost your mind?” Michael Kelly stalks into the room and stands towering above his sister. For the first time, real fear reflects in Morgan's eyes.

“What are you doing here, Michael?”

“The right thing,” he retorts scathingly, “which is obviously something you've forgotten. Why in the hell would you come and see this asshole?” He points his finger at his father.

“Now see here, boy,” Simon Kelly booms, stepping forward and Reed moves menacingly in his direction. Michael is completely unfazed, but a muscle is going in his jaw.

“Don't you ‘boy' me, you filthy bastard. Morgan,” he turns back to her, “let's go, let's just get out of here.”

“No,” she shakes her head. “We've been lied to for too long. I'm tired,” she whimpers, “tired of running, tired of fighting. I'm tired of losing the people that I love. We will be safe here, Michael.”

“Says who? Him?” Michael glares at his father derisively. “The last time I was in this house he handed me over to Eric Dane!”

“Eric wanted to protect you,” Simon Kelly finds his voice. “He heard that the Resistance was after you. It was the only way I could keep you safe. From her lot,” he adds, scowling at me.

“I am her lot,” Michael replies boldly.

“I am your father, Michael, you will abide by my . . .”

“If you don't shut your goddamned mouth I'm gonna shut it for you,” Reed growls, stepping towards Simon, his patience worn thin. Simon shuts up.

“Michael,” Morgan grabs her brother by the shoulders, “you and me, we are in this together. It's always been us against the world. You're young, Michael, you don't understand how the world works. You need to trust me, I'm doing what's best for both of us.”

“And what's best for you includes handing our people over to NUSA?” I ask.

“It's better than what you've done to them!” she cries, on the verge of hysteria. “You're keeping them out there, miserable, struggling for survival. You've lied to all of us!”

“Why don't you at least let them decide for themselves,” Reed drawls from the corner of the room. “Morgan, you say you want what's best for everybody, but how is taking away their choice the best thing for them? Do you really think Rebecca would stop any member of our community if they wanted to return to the States?”

“Yes,” she answers automatically, but her brow narrows as she considers his question, and she convinces no one. “Of course you would take her side,” she points out defensively. “You've always been her most ardent follower. Waiting around for any crumbs she decides to throw you. You're pathetic.”

“Morgan, you're resorting to petty name-calling because you're scared.” Kwan steps forward and gets her undivided attention. “I understand that you're confused. And scared. We all are. But don't lose sight of everything we've worked for.”

Kwan's soft spoken words have more impact than anyone else's and Morgan seems to hesitate, her face contorted in uncertainty.

The moment is broken by the sound of tyres squealing outside, and Reed draws back the curtain.

“They're here,” he growls, all traces of empathy gone. “He's turned us in. NUSA's here.”

“You called them?” Morgan rounds on her father in outrage.

“Morgan,” he says briskly, “NUSA is not our enemy.
They
are.” He points at where we are clustered at the window. I watch as a second Humvee pulls up behind the first and more than a dozen NUSA soldiers step out onto the street.

“Time to go.” I move away from the window towards the other side of the house as Simon Kelly rushes to the front door to call them inside. Reed knocks him out cold as he reaches for the doorknob.

“Morgan, come on!” Michael pleads, dragging her by the hand as we spill out the back door and onto the neat lawn.

“No!” she snatches her hand away and crosses her arms over her chest. “He's our dad, Michael. He's telling the truth, I know he is. We're staying here.”

“You're staying here,” Michael corrects sadly, following us to the fence on the far side of the lawn. Reed peers over.

“All clear,” he whispers.

“Michael, you can't!” Morgan's gasp of astonishment echoes behind me as I vault over the fence. Kwan and Reed land beside me, as agile as two big cats, and I swing around as Morgan tries to restrain Michael. “You can't leave me,” she pleads.