Trial, correct?”
“Yes, sir,” Sasha said.
“Very good.” He addressed the room. “I’d like to talk with Agent Lambert, Ben, and Peter now. Agents Spear and Taggart, you will remain here as well. The rest of you are dismissed.” The other agents filed from the room. “And get some rest, Agent McNeil.”
After they’d gone, Mr. Weathersky stood. “Agent Spear tells me you all performed admirably. Vastly exceeding our expectations of ones so young.”
So young. The very thing that had stalled Ronin.
Mr. Weathersky turned to Sasha. “Tell me what happened after you received the radio warning, Agent Lambert.”
Sasha recounted her fight with Ronin and the other man. She told it how Ben remembered seeing it, in detail and objectively. Her report stopped when she got hit by the fireball and thrown backward.
“At which time” — Mr. Weathersky turned to Ben — “you engaged the target?”
“Yes,” Ben said. “I didn’t want to let him escape. I … immobilized their transport. I mean, the League’s transport. The van they were trying to steal.”
“And then what?”
Ben described the subsequent actuations, and how Ronin and his partner had gotten the upper hand. How they had tried to escape on foot when they’d heard Agent Spear. And how Ben had tripped him up. “He was about to kill me,” Ben said. “I think he would have, but he stopped when he saw how young I was.”
“Is that so?” Mr. Weathersky asked.
Ben nodded. “He said it.”
“Perhaps,” Mr. Weathersky said, “Ethan Morrow still has a conscience of some kind.”
“Not likely,” Agent Taggart said. “He was probably just caught off guard that a kid had been holding his own against him.”
Ben wouldn’t say he’d been holding his own. The whole thing could have easily gone a different way.
“Even so, we may be able to use that.” Mr. Weathersky turned to Agent Spear. “It’s time to initiate the next phase of this operation. I’d like to speak with Mr. Morrow. And I’d like for Ben to accompany me.”
“Sir?” Agent Taggart said.
“Me?” Ben asked. Why would Mr. Weathersky want him?
Mr. Weathersky adjusted the lapels of his pale gray suit. “Ben threw Morrow off balance once. Perhaps he will again.”
It seemed Ben was still just a piece on the board.
Mr. Weathersky crossed to the door. “Come, Ben.”
Agent Spear nodded for him to go. Ben looked at Sasha and Peter. They both just stared. Perhaps they were still settling. Ben wished he could settle. He wanted nothing more now than to go downstairs and collapse on his bed.
But he followed Mr. Weathersky instead. “Coming, sir.”
They went down the hallway to a door Ben hadn’t ever used. It had its own lock, and Mr. Weathersky inserted a simple key. Ben guessed the actuations in the building fried the circuits in electronic locks like they did computers. The door opened onto metal stairs leading downward, most likely to a different part of the basement than their sleeping quarters.
Their footsteps echoed up and down the stairwell as they descended. When they reached the bottom, Mr. Weathersky unlocked another door, and they entered a white hallway. Three agents in combat suits stood guard down its length. They snapped to attention when they saw Mr. Weathersky.
“As you were, gentlemen.” Mr. Weathersky went to the first door. He turned to Ben. “He can’t harm you here. There’s no need to worry.”
“I wasn’t,” Ben said.
“Good.” Mr. Weathersky opened the door, and Ben followed him inside.
THE cell was about the size of their small training room. Ronin stood in the center, inside a clear box of a cage. He had a cot and a toilet in there with him, but not much else. He was in his socks, his boots tucked under the bed. As they got closer, Ben saw thin golden wires embedded in the plastic walls of his prison. Perhaps those had something to do with how the cell neutralized actuation.
Ronin raised an eyebrow at Mr. Weathersky. “The
“Yes, sir,” Sasha said.
“Very good.” He addressed the room. “I’d like to talk with Agent Lambert, Ben, and Peter now. Agents Spear and Taggart, you will remain here as well. The rest of you are dismissed.” The other agents filed from the room. “And get some rest, Agent McNeil.”
After they’d gone, Mr. Weathersky stood. “Agent Spear tells me you all performed admirably. Vastly exceeding our expectations of ones so young.”
So young. The very thing that had stalled Ronin.
Mr. Weathersky turned to Sasha. “Tell me what happened after you received the radio warning, Agent Lambert.”
Sasha recounted her fight with Ronin and the other man. She told it how Ben remembered seeing it, in detail and objectively. Her report stopped when she got hit by the fireball and thrown backward.
“At which time” — Mr. Weathersky turned to Ben — “you engaged the target?”
“Yes,” Ben said. “I didn’t want to let him escape. I … immobilized their transport. I mean, the League’s transport. The van they were trying to steal.”
“And then what?”
Ben described the subsequent actuations, and how Ronin and his partner had gotten the upper hand. How they had tried to escape on foot when they’d heard Agent Spear. And how Ben had tripped him up. “He was about to kill me,” Ben said. “I think he would have, but he stopped when he saw how young I was.”
“Is that so?” Mr. Weathersky asked.
Ben nodded. “He said it.”
“Perhaps,” Mr. Weathersky said, “Ethan Morrow still has a conscience of some kind.”
“Not likely,” Agent Taggart said. “He was probably just caught off guard that a kid had been holding his own against him.”
Ben wouldn’t say he’d been holding his own. The whole thing could have easily gone a different way.
“Even so, we may be able to use that.” Mr. Weathersky turned to Agent Spear. “It’s time to initiate the next phase of this operation. I’d like to speak with Mr. Morrow. And I’d like for Ben to accompany me.”
“Sir?” Agent Taggart said.
“Me?” Ben asked. Why would Mr. Weathersky want him?
Mr. Weathersky adjusted the lapels of his pale gray suit. “Ben threw Morrow off balance once. Perhaps he will again.”
It seemed Ben was still just a piece on the board.
Mr. Weathersky crossed to the door. “Come, Ben.”
Agent Spear nodded for him to go. Ben looked at Sasha and Peter. They both just stared. Perhaps they were still settling. Ben wished he could settle. He wanted nothing more now than to go downstairs and collapse on his bed.
But he followed Mr. Weathersky instead. “Coming, sir.”
They went down the hallway to a door Ben hadn’t ever used. It had its own lock, and Mr. Weathersky inserted a simple key. Ben guessed the actuations in the building fried the circuits in electronic locks like they did computers. The door opened onto metal stairs leading downward, most likely to a different part of the basement than their sleeping quarters.
Their footsteps echoed up and down the stairwell as they descended. When they reached the bottom, Mr. Weathersky unlocked another door, and they entered a white hallway. Three agents in combat suits stood guard down its length. They snapped to attention when they saw Mr. Weathersky.
“As you were, gentlemen.” Mr. Weathersky went to the first door. He turned to Ben. “He can’t harm you here. There’s no need to worry.”
“I wasn’t,” Ben said.
“Good.” Mr. Weathersky opened the door, and Ben followed him inside.
THE cell was about the size of their small training room. Ronin stood in the center, inside a clear box of a cage. He had a cot and a toilet in there with him, but not much else. He was in his socks, his boots tucked under the bed. As they got closer, Ben saw thin golden wires embedded in the plastic walls of his prison. Perhaps those had something to do with how the cell neutralized actuation.
Ronin raised an eyebrow at Mr. Weathersky. “The
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