Page 119 of Aviatrix

I see it. A flicker of guilt, maybe grief, flashing across her face. She wasn’t staring at the ceiling because she was bored. She was trying not to cry.

“In less than a week,” she finally says to Lark, “everything’s gone to hell. Rourke is President now, and that’s worst-case scenario.”

“What do you need me to do?” he asks.

Jan clears her throat and looks at me. “I need you to pretend your engagement is still on. We've been told you’re next.”

“Me?” I ask, pointing at myself.

She shakes her head, the ends of her blunt black bob swinging. “No.” Her eyes shift to Lark. “Everyone on Alien Warfare.”

“All of us?” I frown. “Why?”

But deep down, I already know. We pose a credible threat to Rourke’s plans, whatever they may be. Without us, the team falls apart long enough for Rourke to seize control. What he wants control of, I couldn’t even guess.

“The ships that attacked the White House were ours,” she says, her words dropping like a gavel. I don’t have time to process fully before she adds, “They’ve been equipped with artificial intelligence, smarter than anything we’ve produced before, but deeply flawed.”

“What?” Lark frowns. “Why weren’t we told this sooner?”

Jan gives him a pleading look. “They were experimental. Built by a subcontractor. The details are fuzzy, but I can tell you this, Rourke is behind it.”

“Are you sure?” I ask.

Jan nods.

My heart skips a beat. I knew it. I knew those ships were different. I knew something was off.

“The American people deserve to know,” Lark says firmly. “We all do. We deserve to know what the Vice President has been up to.”

“I risked everything to come here and tell you this,” Jan says. “There’s a target on all our backs. If this leaks, we’re all dead. Not just you.”

“We should stay here,” I suggest. “Where it’s safe. We’re buried in a mountain. We can figure out what to do, how to fight back.”

“I have to return before anyone realizes what I’ve done.” Jan gives me a sympathetic look.

“We could—”

She exhales sharply, cutting me off. “This isn’t coming from me. Rourke is in charge now. We are all at his dubious mercy.”

“And the General?” I lift a brow. “He’s just letting this happen?”

“His hands are tied. Same as mine.”

I turn to Lark. “What do we do?”

“Kin’s always been the best shot on the range,” he says quietly. “We arm her. We get those not on Alien Warfare up in the air. And we survive whatever’s coming.”

I stare at him. “You think the Vice President—sorry, President—is really planning an execution at your father’s funeral? And your solution is to give me a firearm?”

Lark and Jan share a loaded look.

The room suddenly feels smaller. I try to focus on the table in front of me, the grain of the wood, the hum of the lights above. But it’s no use. I’m unraveling.

“What aren’t you telling me?” I ask barely above a whisper.

“Rourke doesn’t want the aliens to leave,” Jan admits. “He has plans, and he needs them here to keep flying under the radar.”

“He’s using them as a smokescreen,” I realize. “And you're both just going to let that happen?”