Vortex by Julie Cross Page A

this plane and kill me.”
    “Do you have any documentation of EOT attacks while in flight?” I asked Melvin.
    He looked like he was trying not to laugh. “None at all, Agent Meyer.”
    “Yet,” Kendrick said, reaching for the trash can again.
    I pulled her hair off her face. “I think you’ve suffered enough.”
    I nodded to Melvin and he retreated down the aisle and then returned with a syringe
     full of something. He jabbed her in the arm with the needle and her eyes closed seconds
     later. I got up from my seat and lifted the armrest so she could be stretched out
     across both seats.
    Melvin tossed a blanket over her and smiled. “This will probably be the most peaceful
     rest she’s had in over a month.”
    I stumbled into the aisle and took the only empty seat left, next to Stewart. Then
     I leaned back and closed my eyes, knowing I wouldn’t sleep. How long had it been since
     I’d slept soundly, like Kendrick? It felt like, by now, my body had been trained to
     survive on very little rest.
    *   *   *
    “Jackson? Wake up,” Stewart said, nudging my shoulder. “ETA is five minutes.”
    Did she just call me Jackson and not Junior?
    I rubbed my eyes and stretched my arms over my head. “Wow, I can’t believe I fell
     asleep. Any EOTs show up?”
    Stewart pushed her lap tray up and snapped it into place. “Yeah, about ten of them.
     None of us wanted to get up, so we sent Dr. Melvin to deal with it.”
    I laughed and yawned at the same time. “He probably bribed them with candy.”
    Both of us looked out the window and watched the New York skyline get bigger as we
     dropped toward the ground.
    “Are you glad to be home?” she asked.
    “Not really,” I said.
    Her eyes met mine and I could tell she was searching for meaning in my answer. Why
     wouldn’t I want to be back here in my comfortable life?
    “What about you?” I pressed. “What’s your New York cover? You were here for two years,
     right?”
    She grinned maliciously at me. “It turns out I’m from your neighborhood … well, not really, but that’s been my cover on occasion. Spoiled daughter of an Irishman. I have my
     own Upper East Side apartment, a couple buildings away from yours. And that little
     test mission I did yesterday won me a very fast car.”
    Isn’t she a little dark to be Irish?
    “Great,” I mumbled. So I get my Dad shipped off somewhere unknown and Stewart gets a car . And I had a feeling as soon as we landed I’d be forced to listen to her speak with
     an Irish accent for the next week. Maybe that was better than the French character
     she’d been maintaining for the last three weeks.
    Kendrick was still passed out cold when we landed. Melvin said she would be loopy
     for a couple more hours. We stuffed her in the back of a car and she slept all the
     way to her building. Even just the twenty-minute drive from the airport to her apartment
     was enough for me to feel a strange sense of freedom, except it wasn’t the comforting
     kind. More like wide-open exposure. My senses were a little too alert as we drove
     through the streets of New York.
    The driver took the bags up to the door outside and I still hadn’t gotten Kendrick
     to wake up. I had to yank her from the backseat and then toss her over my shoulder.
     I could feel her head swinging back and forth behind me. Her long hair nearly touched
     the sidewalk. While I stood in front of her apartment door, digging for the keys in
     her purse, I heard a noise coming from inside.
    My heart started thudding, but I clicked into agent mode and held tight to the back
     of Kendrick’s legs while drawing my gun and holding it at my side. I turned the doorknob
     slowly and heard someone shuffling inside.
    “Whoever you are, don’t move!” I yelled.
    I pointed my gun in the direction of the kitchen and a tall guy with blond hair came
     running into the living room with a huge knife in one hand.
    I immediately raised my gun and moved my finger over the