The duo exchanges an angry look, and Tempest shakes his head. "Did he now?"
I don't like his tone, and the last thing we need is antipathy amongst ourselves. "Maybe we'll get a print off it. I don't know that much about Cain. Would he make his own bombs?"
"Yeah," Tempest answers. "And we're still no closer to finding who helped him steal the explosives from the military base, assuming the two are related."
"Like anyone doubts they are," Liberty says. "And that trail's cold."
"What else do we have?" I ask. "Does he have known accomplices in town?"
"Not that we're aware of," Tempest says.
"We have nothing. Nothing! Twenty people are dead and we have nothing!" Liberty all but shouts. "Not a fucking thing, as usual!" Her eyes grow wide. "You! You bastard!"
Tempest and I spin around as Liberty stalks toward the beach entrance. Nightingale stands in full regalia staring at his oncoming pissed friend. When I lock eyes on him, a giant weight lifts. Since he left, in my few spare moments, I've been playing out a hundred scenarios where heinous events had befallen him. I suppress the urge to race over to him and throw my arms around him. Liberty beats me to him anyway. "You son of a bitch! You lied to us! You said he was dead. You told us you saw him die!" she screams as she shoves him.
"I'm sorry. I couldn't do it," Nightingale says. "I couldn't watch. I left him unconscious on that plane seconds before it crashed into the ocean. He couldn't have survived."
"That's what you said the last time too," she spits out. "We could have been hunting him down all this time! How the hell are we supposed to trust you if you keep lying to us?"
"I'm sorry," is all he can muster.
"Fuck your sorry," Liberty says as she turns around to walk away. A moment later she spins toward him again. "Oh, and thanks for telling your fucking girlfriend who we all are, even though I distinctly remember multiple conversations where we asked you not to!"
"He didn't tell me," I say.
Her gaze whips to me. "Excuse me if I find that a tad hard to believe from Justin Pendergast's best friend," she says with a sneer.
"Okay, enough!" Tempest roars. "Enough! It's done, it's all done. Cain's alive, Joanna knows, nothing we can do will change either. The question is, where do we go from here? What's his game this time?"
"Yeah, does he want to throw a hissy fit like the first time? Kill us all like the second? Or is he just bored like the third?" Liberty asks in a snarky tone.
Nightingale removes the tape from his belt. "This should answer your question."
He moves over to us, putting the disk in Doris without even a glance my way. Ignoring me. Stellar. Once again Emperor Cain's smiling face fills the monitor. The brothers' smiles really are uncannily similar. "Hello, old friends. Miss me? I certainly missed all of you." I glance at Nightingale, whose mouth is set vice tight. "Liberty, you're looking as beautiful as ever. I hope that napalm from our last sojourn didn't leave a scar."
"Fucker," she mutters.
"And Tempest, still barking orders and cowing my poor big brother?" He tsks. "I don't hold it against you. He never did enjoy thinking for himself. I don't know how you can stand him as a partner, weak as he is. It always disgusted me." Cain shakes his cowled head. "I suppose I should be grateful for it, though, his weakness. I'm still convinced it was he who uncoupled my handcuffs on the plane last time." We glance at Nightingale for a reaction but don't find one. "Even after all our fights, all we've been through my dearest Jem, you still could not let me die. It touched me, brother. It really did." I actually believe him. I move my hand to touch Jem, but he won't let me. He yanks his hand away. Another sting to my ego. I don't allow it to show.
"I gave considerate thought as to why that is, brother dear." Cain continues. He leans toward the camera. "I believe everyone in the room knows the answer as well. They may pretend they understand you, even that they care about you, but it's underneath their eyes, isn't it? You're still a freak even among the freaks. But worry not, Scout's back, and it'll be just like old times big brother. I promise. See you soon." He kisses at the camera then it cuts to black. Thank you, Jesus.
No one speaks for a few seconds as we process this new information. Liberty breaks the tension. "So…he's bored."
"No. He's lonely," I say as I glance at Nightingale, who hangs his head.
"Jesus Christ, cry me a fucking river," Liberty snaps. She takes a step toward Jem. "This is all your fault. We had a deal last time. You--"