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“Xero?” Camila’s voice breaks me out of my musings. I jerk in my seat and glance around the study at three faces staring at me as if I’ve zoned out for hours.
My sister leans forward in her seat and frowns. “Are you still with us?”
I rub the back of my head and blink away the fog. “Run that past me again.”
All eyes turn back to Jynxson, who repeats his status report. The six men we captured at the asylum are in stable condition,tied up in holding cells in a bunker within the grounds of this safe house. All claim to be members who won the opportunity to become extras, with little more information to add about where Delta might be hiding.
Reverend Thomas is begging for a chance at redemption after helping Camila capture the other investors at the penthouse. After Dolly and her companions left in the helicopter to rescue Delta, the men tired of waiting around and started to leave. Camila hid in a doorway and hit each of them with tranquilizer darts.
The reverend helped her drag the bodies to the stairwell, where our operatives returned later to transport them to holding cells. We’re interrogating them for information about Father, but only one of them seems to know anything—a high-ranking officer in New Alderney State law enforcement. The rest were kept in the dark.
My suspicions about the driver in the bullet-proof car were correct. After the helicopter passengers took out our drones’ weapons systems, we captured footage of Father exiting the vehicle. The men I stationed took shots at him, but he was wearing bullet proof armor.
The man he left bleeding on the front passenger seat wasn’t quite so fortunate.
“Adrian Tanner.” Jynxson pulls up an image of a dark-haired man on the computer screen. “You might recognize him from the Lizzie Bath video, where he had a non-speaking part as the mortician. He, along with other men we identified, are wanted in connection with several murders.”
“What’s his condition?” I ask.
“Not good,” Isabel replies. “He’s lost a lot of blood because a bullet hit an artery while it lodged in his skull. The doctors are worried it might have also hurt his brain. Dr. Dixon has him stable for now, but it’s still touch and go.”
“Delta must have tried to shoot him in the head before he left for the helicopter,” Jynxson mutters.
Camila leans forward. “Tyler ID’d him in every major X-Cite Media production currently on their member’s site. He always has a key part.”
“Which is all the more reason why we need him conscious,” I snarl. “Adrian Tanner could lead us straight to that bastard’s location.”
“Did anyone ID the man in the bus?” Isabel asks.
“Tyler says he’s Fenrick Greer,” Camila replies. “He performed on six X-Cite Media videos but can be seen as an extra in four.”
“His name was used to book the penthouse and some of the specialized production equipment abandoned at the site,” Jynxson says.
“Also wanted for murder,” Camila adds.
I nod, remembering everything Reverend Thomas and Harland Stills, the recruiter, told me about the firm’s inner workings. Father won’t allow anyone off the street to act in his snuff movies.
It’s a slow process of climbing the ranks, beginning with submitting incriminating footage of yourself as part of an audition, followed by working as an extra. Only then are candidates elevated to performing atrocities on camera. By that time, Father will have gathered enough evidence on the men to ensure they have no way out.
Silence hangs in the room for several moments as I digest the information, and all eyes turn in my direction. They’re waiting for me to give a command, but my thoughts are consumed by my little ghost.
“Has Amethyst shared anything yet?” Jynxson finally asks.
Isabel answers before I can muster a reply. “She’s in no condition for questioning and is still heavily medicated.”
That’s an understatement. Amethyst is still working through a cocktail of drugs. At some point this morning, the coagulants wore off and blood seeped through her bandages. Isabel had to redress the wounds again. She’s been asleep ever since.
“Her mental health comes first. Give her time.” I rise from my seat.
Jynxson frowns. “Can we get her to journal her experience?”
I raise a palm. “Assume she knows nothing until she says otherwise. Our focus now is interrogating the men we captured and identifying the pair who rode in the helicopter with Dolly.”
He falls silent. It goes against our training for me to delay a debriefing, but Amethyst isn’t part of our organization. Even if she is a former Lolita assassin, the last thing I want is to dredge up her suppressed memories to worsen her trauma.
I walk out of the study, leaving Camila and Jynxson firing up a video chat with Tyler. Isabel follows me through the hallway and up the stairs, her gaze burning the side of my face. The house is silent, save for our synchronized footsteps and the distant chatter filtering from below.
“What?” I ask.
