Cheyenne where my father ran his business. The same place I dreamed about the life Nick and I would have together. Where I sat reading Little House books, lamenting over my stupid braces and hoping against all hope that things would turn out OK. That Nick Tate might save me.
No.
“After he left you crying in that boat, he went down to Honduras for his final phase of training. Before Nick Tate came to town there were between two and three homicides per day in San Pedro Sula. After, it averaged four.”
“So that’s all Nick? Please.” I laugh. “You cannot be serious.”
“He brags about it, Sasha. We’ve got video. I told you we have informants. We have plenty of video. And I’ve got it all queued up for you on that laptop right there.” He points to a computer.
I swallow hard.
“I’m not lying. I swear to God, everything I just told you is true.”
She processes the information I just dumped. Her face is tight, her emotions controlled. No tears from this girl. None.
“I have you too.”
She turns to look at me and I pan to the wall behind me. There are far fewer images of Sasha. Long stretches of white space reflect the trouble I had finding her. “I wasn’t sure you were real. I mean, we heard rumors of a little girl, a Zero, as they call them, leading the way during that year the Company went defunct. But they were just rumors. No one really thought you were real.”
“I’m real,” she says in a whisper.
“I know, Sasha.” I take her trembling body in my arms. “I know you’re real. And I’m sorry I have to be the one to show you this stuff. But he’s back, OK? He’s back for you. And no way in hell is he gonna get what he wants again. No way.”
“He would never hurt me.”
“You have no idea how bad he can hurt you.”
She sighs in my embrace but she doesn’t pull away. It’s something. More than I could’ve hoped, probably. I mean, I just shattered her reality. And how many times has this happened before tonight? How many times has she had to suck it up and accept the truth about who and what she is?
“That’s my middle school.” She points to one of the pictures. “And my high school.”
“I found them much, much later. I have your yearbook pictures from that time, but that’s it.”
“And me at graduation two years ago.”
“Found on the web. I wasn’t there. The day at the airport, that was the first time I ever saw you. Everything came after that meeting.”
“So this is what you’ve been doing all these months?”
“Yeah,” I say flatly.
“Cataloging my life. Building a timeline.”
I can see where this is going, but she has every right to be pissed.
“I don’t want to hunt people for a living, Jax.”
“I understand,” I say, pushing her away a little so I can see her face. “I do. But hunting with a badge and hunting with a gun are two very different things. And I’m not asking you to decide today, all right? I just want you to think about it. Make it an option. We could use your help, Sasha. We really could. With you we could bring the Company down once and for all.”
“But there’s Company people in the FBI.”
“I know. Why do you think Max Barlow’s division is black ops? It’s been black ops since the Seventies when he figured out the Company existed. We don’t have any infiltrators in that area, Sasha. I promise you. There are only four people in the whole department.”
“You?”
“Me and Max. And two others I can’t name unless you sign on.”
“I don’t know what to think.”
“Don’t think anything yet. OK? Just… let’s just go to bed. Get some rest. And then we can discuss it again over breakfast and I’ll take you home if you want.”
She turns to look at the wall of Nick again. “I need to know what he’s been doing. All of it. Even if it’s bad.”
“Not now. Tomorrow. You’ve heard enough tonight.” I take her hand and lead her towards the bedroom. She resists for a moment, but then she’s walking with me. “I’ll sleep on the couch if you want.”
“No,” she says. “The last thing I want tonight is to be alone in a strange bed.”
I smile into the darkness. “I told you, you’re safe with me. I meant it.”
We walk into the bedroom and she starts to climb under the covers. I put