collateral damage, no matter how well we do it."
Tate's voice was grim. "You think I don't know that?"
"We need your help, Tate," said Joshua. "Please. I know you want nothing more than to forget they ever existed, but..."
Tate slammed the door in his face.
The knocking started again, immediately. My head was swimming and I couldn't even being to comprehend what was happening, but when Tate turned to me, his eyes spoke murder.
"Did you have anything to do with this?" he hissed.
My throat constricted a few times before it let me speak.
"No," I managed to whisper.
He stared at me for a few moments more, before turning back to the front door. The pounding hadn't stopped.
"The girl you brought me yesterday," he shouted. "What does she have to do with all of this?"
"Nothing," Joshua shouted back. "It was pure luck, I happened to be assigned to her - and she happened to be a gift for you. That's how I knew where to find you. But it wasn't her doing."
Tate yanked the door open again, the rifle coming back up to his shoulder. "Get inside," he said. "Sit. Keep your hands on the back of your head, both of you."
I realized there was someone with Joshua - an older woman in jeans and a flannel shirt.
"This is Mary," he said. "She's one of our veterans. She's seen men like Mr. Charles go down before, and she'll do anything to see it again."
They both kept their absurd pose, hands on their heads, while Tate circled them with his gun. "That's very noble of you," he sneered. "I don't believe in luck. Tell me what you know about the girl. Why did they send her?"
"I don't know," said Joshua. "I'm not privy to those discussions. The Seven have them in private."
His eyes flicked towards me, but then quickly returned to the man with the gun. Tate let out a long, harsh exhale through his nose.
"How the fuck did you manage to get into their organization?" he demanded.
"It was easy enough," Joshua replied. "All I had to do was pretend to be helpless."
"How do you know they're not playing you?"
"I guess I don't," Joshua admitted. "Not for sure. But I do know that I'm still alive, and we're still operating. The groundwork has been laid. Maybe it's all an elaborate trap. I don't know. But there's nothing tying me to the Syndicate, as far as they know." He smiled, wanly. "Not unless you tell them."
"You think we have chats over fucking afternoon tea?" Tate glared at both of them. "Get one thing straight - there's no taking down Stoker. Whatever you've seen there, it's much bigger and much worse than you could possibly imagine. They can own anyone they want to. They can control anything they need to control. Someone will betray you, and you won't even live long enough to wonder who it was. Or maybe you will - and that'll be even worse. By the end of it, you won't even remember your own name."
Joshua was silent for a long moment, exchanging a few meaningful glances with Mary.
"You're right," he said, at last. "I'm sorry. I should have known better than to assume you'd help us."
"I think we're done here," Tate said, abruptly, lowering his gun and heading for the doorway. Both Joshua and the woman started to make noises of protest, but he silenced them with a raised hand before pausing at the foot of the stairs.
Tate stared at me. A silent order, but just as loud and clear as if he'd said it.
Come.
But something in Joshua's face made me deathly curious. He wasn't done talking, and I wanted to hear what he had to say. As terrified as I was of what would happen, especially after they left - if they left - I had to know.
I ignored Tate.
But instead of snapping an order at me, with a crooked finger, a warning in his tone, he just spun on his heel and left the room. Perfectly silent. Anger radiated off him in waves, but something about the presence of these people was stilling his tongue. He didn't want them to know.
He doesn't want them to see him treating me like a slave.
My head was spinning.
Why?
"Listen," said Joshua, as
Tate's voice was grim. "You think I don't know that?"
"We need your help, Tate," said Joshua. "Please. I know you want nothing more than to forget they ever existed, but..."
Tate slammed the door in his face.
The knocking started again, immediately. My head was swimming and I couldn't even being to comprehend what was happening, but when Tate turned to me, his eyes spoke murder.
"Did you have anything to do with this?" he hissed.
My throat constricted a few times before it let me speak.
"No," I managed to whisper.
He stared at me for a few moments more, before turning back to the front door. The pounding hadn't stopped.
"The girl you brought me yesterday," he shouted. "What does she have to do with all of this?"
"Nothing," Joshua shouted back. "It was pure luck, I happened to be assigned to her - and she happened to be a gift for you. That's how I knew where to find you. But it wasn't her doing."
Tate yanked the door open again, the rifle coming back up to his shoulder. "Get inside," he said. "Sit. Keep your hands on the back of your head, both of you."
I realized there was someone with Joshua - an older woman in jeans and a flannel shirt.
"This is Mary," he said. "She's one of our veterans. She's seen men like Mr. Charles go down before, and she'll do anything to see it again."
They both kept their absurd pose, hands on their heads, while Tate circled them with his gun. "That's very noble of you," he sneered. "I don't believe in luck. Tell me what you know about the girl. Why did they send her?"
"I don't know," said Joshua. "I'm not privy to those discussions. The Seven have them in private."
His eyes flicked towards me, but then quickly returned to the man with the gun. Tate let out a long, harsh exhale through his nose.
"How the fuck did you manage to get into their organization?" he demanded.
"It was easy enough," Joshua replied. "All I had to do was pretend to be helpless."
"How do you know they're not playing you?"
"I guess I don't," Joshua admitted. "Not for sure. But I do know that I'm still alive, and we're still operating. The groundwork has been laid. Maybe it's all an elaborate trap. I don't know. But there's nothing tying me to the Syndicate, as far as they know." He smiled, wanly. "Not unless you tell them."
"You think we have chats over fucking afternoon tea?" Tate glared at both of them. "Get one thing straight - there's no taking down Stoker. Whatever you've seen there, it's much bigger and much worse than you could possibly imagine. They can own anyone they want to. They can control anything they need to control. Someone will betray you, and you won't even live long enough to wonder who it was. Or maybe you will - and that'll be even worse. By the end of it, you won't even remember your own name."
Joshua was silent for a long moment, exchanging a few meaningful glances with Mary.
"You're right," he said, at last. "I'm sorry. I should have known better than to assume you'd help us."
"I think we're done here," Tate said, abruptly, lowering his gun and heading for the doorway. Both Joshua and the woman started to make noises of protest, but he silenced them with a raised hand before pausing at the foot of the stairs.
Tate stared at me. A silent order, but just as loud and clear as if he'd said it.
Come.
But something in Joshua's face made me deathly curious. He wasn't done talking, and I wanted to hear what he had to say. As terrified as I was of what would happen, especially after they left - if they left - I had to know.
I ignored Tate.
But instead of snapping an order at me, with a crooked finger, a warning in his tone, he just spun on his heel and left the room. Perfectly silent. Anger radiated off him in waves, but something about the presence of these people was stilling his tongue. He didn't want them to know.
He doesn't want them to see him treating me like a slave.
My head was spinning.
Why?
"Listen," said Joshua, as
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