The Flame of Prometheus (The Prometheus Project Book 1), page 18
Then the ground shook.
CHAPTER 19
Callum swerved the hover to a stop as fire and smoke erupted in the distance. The Lieutenant General exited the vehicle as I started to unbuckle my seatbelt.
“No. Stay in the hover!” Callum ordered, holding a palm out.
I rolled my eyes. “Over my dead body.” I whipped off my seatbelt as Callum darted toward the explosion. As I stumbled out of the vehicle, another explosion rocked the ground beneath me, and I clutched the hover door to stay upright. Towering brick buildings trembled around me as I ran toward Callum, weaving in and out of the panicked Medians. Screams and wails bounced off the quaking buildings, and when I finally reached Callum and grabbed his arm, a third explosion rocked through the Circulum. Callum’s arm wrapped around my waist, and he tucked me into his chest.
“Where are they coming from?” I called out through the roar of screams and sirens.
“I have no idea.” Callum glanced around, eyes searching for something before he pulled his COM-tab out of his pocket. “We need a squad down on Six ASAP,” he commanded, still keeping me close to him. Then Callum pressed another button, bringing up a holo of Sancus sitting at a computer. “Sancus. Give me details on Media.”
“Looks like we got central thermal readings four blocks east of your location,” the Second Lieutenant explained, eyes scanning like there was a screen in front of him. There probably was, but it looked unnatural in the glowing light of the holo. “Another reading six blocks north, and a final reading two blocks south.”
“All the explosions happened in Six?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“What are the fucking odds?” Callum mumbled, and his arm tightened as another shock ran through the ground, not quite as intense as the last.
“Was that another?” Callum asked Sancus.
The Second Lieutenant shook his head. “No readings. Maybe a collapsed building.”
“Fuck.” Callum glanced around. Debris scattered the street, and the air around us grew thick with smoke and dust. “Change my order. Give me a platoon down here now! One squad at site one, another at site two, a third squad at site three, and the final squad organizing a medical site for all the Medians. Then, send another platoon down to Humilis. I want to make sure these explosions have not impacted their Circulum, and I want to make sure this doesn’t initiate Rebel riots down there.”
“Yes, sir!” Sancus saluted before his image disappeared.
Callum stowed his COM-tab back in his pants pocket, then ripped off a piece of his undershirt. “Use this to filter out the smoke.” He handed me the torn piece of fabric, and I put it to my face. His scent of earth and wood filled my nose, instantly soothing me. “Keep close!” Callum ordered before he grabbed my hand and sprinted south. The Lieutenant General snaked us through the stampede of people running away from the explosion, screams and cries growing louder as we narrowed in on the southern site.
A large man barreled into me. My right shoulder was jerked back, and Callum’s hand broke from mine. I stumbled to the ground and rolled on the concrete street, trying to dodge the charge of people. A pregnant woman nearly stepped on my ankle, and a lanky man kicked my ribs, tripping over me and stumbling to the ground himself. He was not as lucky as I was. After I scrambled to my feet, he was kicked in the head by a boulder of a man, rendering him unconscious. I lost track of the fallen man in the chaos, but I heard faint, repeated sounds of boots on flesh.
“Callum!” I shouted as I pushed the trampled man from my mind. “Callum!” I knew we were heading south, but I was disoriented—smoke and debris hung heavy in the air, blocking my view of the sun. “Callum!” I searched for a Military uniform, for three bright stars on a shoulder, for his sandy hair or emerald eyes, but there was no sign of the Lieutenant General. People continued to barge into me—men shouldered past while women rushed by, some carrying children in their arms.
Focus, Red. Focus. I shook my head and forced myself to breathe deeply, but when I inhaled, my chest constricted and burned as smoke coiled around my lungs, like a snake suffocating its prey. I brought my fist up to my face to use Callum’s shirt to filter the air, but my hand was empty. I must have lost the cloth in my tumble. I scanned the ground, but I knew even if I found the cloth, bending down to retrieve the fabric would render me vulnerable—someone else was bound to trample me, and the chances of me getting up a second time were thin.
I ripped a piece of my black sweatshirt away, then brought it up to my mouth, whirled around, picked a direction, and ran. I was bound to run into a soldier or officer or security guard at some point. I would tell them who I was and that I was with Callum. And I hoped they would believe me.
While most Medians avoided the buildings, afraid the brick structures would topple over at any moment, I stayed close because they were clear of people, making it the fastest route to find Callum. Before I even made it a block, a hard hand clasped around my mouth and an arm wrapped around my waist. I was pulled tight into a strong, large man and hoisted off my feet. I kicked and screamed, but the ambusher held firm. Though the streets were filled with people running about, either no one noticed in all the chaos or no one cared. No one yelled at my attacker, no one tried to tackle him to the ground, no one tried to stop my assailant as I was carried into a dark alley and thrown on the ground. My palms burned as they slid on the concrete, and my knees ached in pain as they hit the alley floor, instantly bruising. I turned sharply to look my assaulter in the eyes, but a hood covered all of their features besides a cruel, crooked smile—a smile that had tormented me every day in training.
“Was that really necessary?” I spat as I stood to my feet.
“No, but it certainly was fun,” Ulysses crooned. He slid off his hood to reveal his face.
I dusted the dirt off my pants. “Why didn’t you just grab my arm or something? Like a normal human being…”
Ulysses laughed. “There is no way you would have gone with me.” He was right, of course. He had to keep the disguise, and I wouldn’t have let any hooded man drag me away by the arm, not when I could so easily take him down that way.
I just crossed my arms. “Why are you here, Ulysses? How?” I knew I should be glad my fellow agent wasn’t captured or dead, but something didn’t feel right as Ulysses stood in the dark shadows of a Median alley. How did he find me?
“What? Not happy to see me?” Ulysses pouted.
“You sabotaged my mission! You are the reason I am fucking stuck here! And how did you even get to Media from Humilis?” I glanced around. I had half a mind to turn him in, but that would be a security risk to everyone I love. If he’s a double agent, what would it matter, anyway? My heart sank at the thought.
“I have my ways.” Ulysses cracked his knuckles one by one.
Annoyed, I shoved his vagueness to the side. I knew our time was limited. “Have you talked to anyone from Base? What do you know?”
Ulysses shrugged. “What do you know?”
I ground my teeth. Of course this was how he was going to play it. “The mission didn’t work. Lieutenant General Osouf said—”
“Not what I heard,” Ulysses interrupted.
“What?”
He shrugged. “Niahm checked. He said it worked.”
But Metis said—
I shook my head, confusion clouding my thoughts. “So, if you’re not here to finish the mission, you must be here to extract me?” I glanced around. “The explosions…were they all you?”
Ulysses leaned against the bricks, one leg propped against the alley wall. “Extract you? No. I am here to obtain your intel. The explosions?” Ulysses shrugged. “Maybe.”
“H—how? How did you do it? How did you know I would be here?”
“Again,”—Ulysses gave me a cruel smile—“I have my ways. Now…” He held out a gloved hand. “Contacts.”
How did he know about my contacts? Metis said he wasn’t going to tell Hoenir, but did he tell Ulysses? Did someone else? I shook my head. “Not until you tell me how.”
Ulysses sighed. “Well, thanks to you, we knew you were with the Lieutenant General, and we had Intel indicating he would be in Ward Six today. Rigged an explosion, crept around until I found you. Now, here we are.” Ulysses wiggled his fingers, silently urging me to give him the contacts.
“Three.”
Ulysses furrowed his brows. “What?”
“Three explosions. You rigged three explosions.”
Ulysses shrugged, still holding out a hand. “I had to have backup plans.”
“And you still decided to detonate your backup plans?”
“Mistakes happen.”
I glanced toward the opening of the alley. “They were safe explosions, right? Like no one got hurt? They were all detonated in abandoned buildings or something?”
A wicked smile tugged at his lips again. “There is no such thing as a safe explosion, Red. You, of all people, should know that.”
Memories from a couple of years ago sparked to life behind my eyes.
I blinked them away, then grabbed Ulysses’ wrist, wound him toward me, and spun him so I could pin him against the brick wall of a building, my forearm pressing hard into his windpipe. “You killed innocent people just to meet up with me? How did you even know I was going to be here? How did you know the Lieutenant General would take me with him?”
“Come now, Red. We are supposed to play nice.”
I pressed my arm harder into his throat. “Since when do you play nice?”
“There’s a first time for everything,” Ulysses choked.
I exhaled and let him go. Ulysses folded over, leaning on his knees as he took a deep breath and held out a hand. “Now, be a good little agent and hand over the contacts. Don’t let all those innocent lives be lost in vain, Red.”
I spat at him, my saliva landing on his left cheek.
And then it hit me—Metis never told me he had notified Hoenir or Ulysses about the contacts, about the intel I was gathering. Plus, I was able to download all of my data into encrypted files in Metis’ cloud. Something wasn’t adding up.
Ulysses flicked my spit from his cheek and held out his open palm again. “Failure to hand over Resistance intel is treason. Punishable by death. I have my orders. I was told if you hesitated or if you seemed like you were suddenly a Coalition sympathizer, I am to take you out. And I will. But if you hand over the contacts, you’re good to go—set to continue on with your mission.
“Why do you need to retrieve my contacts? I can just transfer my data to—”
“Cloud’s been compromised.”
“But Metis didn’t tel—”
“If he sent a message to you directly, the Coalition would be on your tail, and you’d be dead in minutes.”
My stomach knotted. “I received a message from Metis earlier this morning. He said you did not return to Base, so how could you have possibly known about my contacts or if the server was compromised? How could you have possibly gained that intel?”
Ulysses’ dark eyes rolled. “You think you are the only one with special communication gear?”
Well, yeah, kind of.
I glanced around the alley. Panicked people still ran by the entrances, oblivious to the two of us slinking in the shadows.
Something didn’t feel right.
“Come on, Red,” Ulysses urged. I glanced back to his hand, still outstretched. “I don’t got all day.”
“You have never wanted to help me a day in your life. Why now?”
He shrugged. “I got what I wanted—your mission was fucked. Now I get to be the one to fix your mistakes.”
I gritted my teeth, remembering Metis’ warning, recalling my father’s journal that mysteriously appeared in my Shed. “And how do I know you’re not a double agent?”
Ulysses’ features shifted, and—for once in his life—his face looked earnest, almost like he was letting his guard down. Almost. “If I wanted you gone, if I wanted to turn you in, I would have already. If I wanted the Resistance destroyed, why wait all this time?”
I turned his words over in my head. Every fiber of my being was screaming at me to run to find Callum and tell him about Ulysses. But that might raise more suspicions; it might garner more questions that Callum would ask of me.
I grunted. “You better tell Hoenir that next time he needs a better fucking plan,” I demanded as I plucked out each of the contacts. Despite himself, Ulysses was right; if I didn’t give him the contacts, all these deaths, all this mess, would have been for nothing. I placed the contacts into Ulysses’ palm. He smiled at me, then pulled out a contacts case and placed each contact gently inside the two compartments. Ulysses tucked the case back into a pocket on the inside of his coat, near his heart, and pulled out an identical case. However, this one was black, whereas the other was white.
Ulysses handed it to me. “Here. These lenses store slightly more data. Again, do not transfer data to the cloud. It’s been compromised. Store whatever you can in these lenses, then we will trade during my next pick-up.”
I plopped the new contacts in my eyes and blinked them into place.
“When is the next pick-up?”
Ulysses shrugged. “Whenever I can get up to Excelsis.”
Skies knew how long that could take.
“And what should I do with the other lenses?”
“I don’t know. Throw them away, burn them, dump them down a sewer drain. I don’t give a flying fuck. Just do not use them.”
“Couldn’t you just take me home now? I have obtained a decent amount of information.” I handed Ulysses the case since I didn’t have anywhere to stow it.
Ulysses laughed. “You think the Lieutenant General has trusted you enough to give you any good information?” He shook his head like I was a child who believed in unicorns. “No. We need real Intel, Red, and Hoenir thinks you can get it.” Ulysses winked at me. “Nice cover story, by the way. Really intriguing. I didn’t think you could actually pull it off, but you’re still alive, so you must be doing something right in order to convince the Lieutenant General of your lie.”
“What exactly are you implying?” I crossed my arms.
Ulysses trailed a finger down the side of my face. “I’m sure a good fucking would loosen the Lieutenant General’s lips.”
I swatted his hand away before his finger reached my neck. “You are a pig.”
Ulysses shrugged. “This is your mission, Red. I just want you to succeed, that’s all.” His voice was mocking, but he might be right. I mean, my alias was a brothel worker, and it’s not like I hadn’t thought about it before…or earlier this morning when sweat glistened on his abs from the training fight with Bridges.
“I don’t need to fuck the Lieutenant General to charm information out of him.” I shoved Ulysses. “Now, get out of here before you get caught.”
Ulysses stumbled back a step, his face aghast and a hand to his chest, looking for all his life like he was truly offended. “Oh, Red. I thought you enjoyed our time together.”
“On the contrary,” I sneered.
Ulysses donned his hood again as he stepped closer to me. “I bet I can fix that.” Ulysses grabbed both my wrists with one of his hands and turned me around so that I was pinned against the wall—my right cheek flushed against the cold brick of the alleyway, stomach, and chest shoved so hard into the wall that I could barely breathe.
“What the fuck are you doing? Get off of me!”
“Oh, come on, honey,” Ulysses whispered in my ear. “Give him a real show.”
I writhed. “What are you talking about? Let go!”
A shadow appeared against the light from the bustling street.
“Adellaide?”
Callum.
“Help!” I shouted to Callum, understanding now what Ulysses meant. “Callum, help me, please!”
Callum darted toward us. I couldn’t see his face, but every step was hard and angry against the concrete. “Get off of her!”
Before Callum reached us, Ulysses fled down the alley into the shadows, and I crumpled to the ground, holding onto my uneasy stomach.
The Lieutenant General kneeled beside me and gathered me into his arms.
“Did he hurt you?” Callum asked softly after a few moments.
I shook my head.
“Did you know him?”
I shook my head again, remaining quiet as I played my part as the unnerved victim.
Callum pulled out his COM-tab and started ordering men to track down a hooded figure heading toward Busch’s Cannery, but I stopped him, saying it wasn’t worth it and convincing the Lieutenant General that the lives of those in the explosion sites were more important.
Callum nodded, canceled his orders, then swept loose strands of my hair back to get a good look at my face. “Are you sure you didn’t know him? He wasn’t a previous client or something?”
A test. Callum was testing me.
“No,” I whispered. “At least, I don’t think so. I couldn’t see his face, and I didn’t recognize his voice.”
Callum brushed back my hair again. “Well, let’s get you home.”
Home.
Callum helped me up and looked me up and down, probably looking for scrapes and bruises. One finger grazed my right cheek. It stung. Ulysses must have scratched it up when he shoved me against the brick wall, but I didn’t recoil from Callum’s touch.
Then he took both my hands in his, examining the scrapes from when I fell in the street and when Ulysses had dragged me into the alley. Callum’s eyes turned cold, his expression hard.
“I’m fine,” I reassured him.
Callum’s green eyes met mine, and something flickered in them—something I couldn’t quite read. “I will have Sergeant Phillips take you home. I need to stay here.”
I nodded.
“He’s a good soldier, I promise. He won’t touch—”
I took Callum’s hand in mine and squeezed. “I trust you.”
A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. With his other hand, Callum pulled my head to his lips and gently pressed them to my forehead. He lingered for a second, breathing me in, and I couldn’t help but do the same.
