I nodded and sat down on one of the benches, forcing one foot into a shoe. Violet sat down next to me, flashing me a questioning look. I knew she was curious about what Ms. Dale and I were doing, but I couldn’t stop to explain right then, so I gave her a tiny nod of my head.
“I guess maybe… if you really wanted to make the people angry, you would have to assassinate a public official,” I drawled on.
“I suppose so,” Ms. Dale said. “It would have to be someone in the public eye, someone who was beloved enough to stir them toward war.”
I nodded, stepping hard into one shoe and stealing another covert glance of Desmond. She had planted a bored expression on her face with a faint air of impatience, but I could tell she was listening intently.
“Well, what about the queen?” I suggested.
I caught a flash of Ms. Dale’s smile as it quickly formed and faded. “Actually, she would be a great target, Mr. Croft. Especially considering the tragic death of her mother before her.”
Desmond’s eyes narrowed, and I felt a pulse of triumph as I looked up and met her gaze. “That’s your target, isn’t it?” I said softly. “You plan to make it appear as if Patrus killed the new queen.”
Desmond smirked at me and gave a little shrug. “Even if it were my target, you’d never get there in time. I’ve already sent my best agent to handle it—whatever it might be.”
I frowned, thinking. Violet stood up beside me and faced Desmond. “Who did you send?” she demanded, her voice constricted.
Desmond gave an exaggerated roll of her eyes and stepped over to the suit display, studying it idly. A tense silence reigned before she finally sighed and turned around.
“I supposed it doesn’t hurt to tell you, seeing as you’ll be dead within a few hours… I sent Owen.”
Violet’s face flushed with horror, and I felt a pang of jealousy again. Until I remembered the fire and passion that we had shared recently. I knew Violet loved me. Her concern was for someone she had become close to during our time here. She was worried about her friend, and I could understand that.
I stood up and dropped my arm over Violet’s shoulder. “I’m sure he’ll be all right,” I whispered.
Desmond’s chuckle tore a hole through my reassurance, and I turned, allowing my anger toward her to surface. “What’s so funny?” I spat.
She shook her head and waved it off, but I took a step forward aggressively. Immediately, the boys moved forward, thunderous expressions on their own faces. I clenched my fists, torn between wanting to punch the smug look off Desmond’s face and not proving the boys wrong.
Desmond held a hand up toward them and made a little backward motion. The boys stepped back reluctantly, and she moved closer to me, until we were almost touching. When she spoke, her voice was pitched so low that it was almost difficult for me to hear her. “My dear boy, what makes you think Owen is going to be all right?”
I glared at her as she stepped back, and Violet stifled a cry behind me, making my anger burn more intensely. After all, it was a cruel logic—sending a man to plant a bomb and live would only endanger the entire group. No, better to kill that person, so that she was the only one who knew the secret.
“You’re a monster,” I hissed.
Desmond laughed. “Oh, Viggo, Viggo, Viggo,” she chided, her smile growing even wider. “Surely you’ve heard that one man’s monster is another man’s hero. I do what others can’t or won’t, and I do it with pride. I can and will make changes to this world, our world, and I will make it a better place. Just you wait.”
I shook my head. “Thousands of innocents will die for this. Please, you have to see reason! I understand you have hatred for Matrus, and even Patrus… but the toll it will take… It’s not worth it!”
Desmond shrugged. “Casualties of a corrupt system cannot concern the just and the oppressed. Not if we ever want to take back power.”
A few of the boys nodded in agreement. It was clear that Desmond was beyond unreasonable, she was insane—but her words were reaching into the darkest parts of the boys and speaking to them exclusively.
Desmond held out her hand. Immediately, several masks were held up by the boys, and she began grabbing them and tossing them to us one by one. I glowered at her, but placed the mask over my face, making sure it was tight and secure.
“So here’s how it’s going to go,” Desmond said. “You are going to be given a… hmm… three-hour head start to escape. Then I’m going to send the boys after you, to implement some of the skills you’ve been teaching them. They will be ordered to kill you on sight. I would say good luck, but honestly… I am saving my good luck for the boys you betrayed.” She reached out and patted the shoulder of one of the boys—it was Cody, the boy who had challenged me on the first day of training. He smiled viciously at me and I swallowed, trying to maintain my calm.