“We know what they want,” she said. “The same thing they’ve always wanted. You.”
I hissed, expelling all the air from my body. “But ‘why?’ is the more valid question. And, by the way, just as an aside, sending me to their secret safe house when we have no idea what’s contained within? Not the best idea ever for keeping what they want out of their hands.”
She twitched and looked away, her gaze swiveling to the white concrete block that surrounded us in the stairwell, looking out over the banister. “The Director thinks you’re one of our best resources against them because whatever they throw at you, you seem to be able to turn around relatively easily.”
“Relatively easily?” I stared at her openmouthed. “Wolfe nearly killed me. Fries nearly—” I stopped. “Mormont would have taken me to them if Zollers hadn’t saved my life.”
“You’re not going after them alone, nor do you have to go at all if you don’t want to,” she said. “Your choice.”
“You’re damned right I’m going after them,” I said. “I just...ugh. I hate everything they’ve done to me so far. I hate them.”
“I’d feel the same if I were you.”
“Whatever.” I shook my head. “When does the chopper leave?”
She looked at me in surprise. “Chopper? I’m not having you take the chopper to Des Moines. Not for this. The uncertainty of the mission coupled with the recon element means you’ll need to approach quietly, with some subtlety, and a chopper hovering over a suburban neighborhood with people deploying out of it on zip-lines doesn’t exactly fit the bill. You’ll take a van; it fits the mission profile better.”
I grimaced. “How long of a drive is it to Des Moines?”
“Four, maybe four and a half hours?”
“Dammit,” I said, and my hand came up to massage my eyebrows. “This is bad.”
“What now?” Ariadne said, her voice rising with alarm. “What is it?”
“I’m going to be stuck in a confined space with Clary for the whole drive.”
6.
“...and that’s why I left Nebraska,” came the droning, cornpone voice of Clyde Clary. Scott was driving and Kat was riding next to him, her face suffused with boredom. Reed and I were seated in captain’s chairs directly behind them and Clary was in the back in a massive rotating chair that was anchored to the floor in front of a computer console. It was all kind of sci-fi, or FBI, but I didn’t really care. I was so annoyed and bored by Clary’s stupid stories that I was ready to reach forward and yank the wheel out of Scott’s hands so I could put us into the ditch and end all of our suffering. I had mentally checked out of Clary’s stories throughout the whole ride, until they all blended together. The parts I remembered involved a grain silo, three heifers and an old Cadillac. For all I knew, they were all from the same story.
“We’re almost there,” Scott said with a note of hope. “GPS says it’s off the next exit.”
“Thank God,” said Kat and Reed in perfect harmony. I was thinking it.
“You know, this reminds me of this one time when—”
“Hey, Clary,” Scott said, raising his voice to talk over Clyde. “Can you do me a favor and start booting up the computer?”