Gray’s chest ached.
Knox’s voice stayed soft and even. “What do you need, James?”
Mace’s hand jerked, upsetting his mug. Gray reacted out of instinct, reaching for a kitchen towel as the steaming liquid spread across the table.
But the quick action made things worse. Mace sprang from the table, his chair scraping loudly over the floor as he dove blindly for the exit.
Knox bolted out of his chair, but Nina intercepted him. He stopped, chest heaving, eyes fixed on the door Mace had disappeared through. “I’m going to tear Tobias Richter apart one piece at a time.”
“Yeah.” And Gray could only hope he lived long enough to see it.
“We’ll get through to him, Garrett.” Nina rubbed Knox’s shoulder. “I know it’s hard, and it’ll take some time, but you will have your friend back.”
“He won’t be the same.” Knox flexed his hands—the hands he’d shattered trying to beat his way through indestructible polycarbonate to get to Mace. “None of us are the same after they break us. At least I had a mission to live for. I don’t know what to give him.”
“Something Richter can’t fathom—your love.” She touched Knox’s face next, made him look at her. “I don’t think they broke him at all. Not if there’s enough of him left to fight like this.”
“Nina’s right.” Gray tossed the soaked, smelly towel in the sink and leaned against the counter. “Before you came down, we were talking about my implant. He seemed … almost steady. So that’s the purpose we can give him. The mission. We let him take care of us.”
“He always has.” Knox turned his head enough to kiss Nina’s palm, then stepped into the kitchen and grabbed his own mug. “Any news on your implant?”
“I knew it!” Dani’s voice echoing down the stairs saved him from having to answer. “I fucking knew it!”
The room seemed to fill at once. Dani swept downstairs, a sheaf of papers clutched in one hand, with Maya right behind her. Rafe and Conall came in through the back door, their brows knit in confusion.
“I knew it,” Dani repeated, enunciating each word triumphantly. She slammed the papers down on the table, then recoiled in disgust. “Ew, why is the table sticky?”
“Long story,” Nina told her. “What’s up? Did you find something?”
“You bet your ass I did.” She shuffled through the stack of papers, then stabbed her finger down on one. “This.”
Curiosity drew them all closer to the table, and Gray flicked the stack of papers. “What are these—dossiers?”
“Employee files for TechCorps Executive Security. I printed these out when I worked there. I thought they might prove useful someday.”
“You did what?” Conall stormed to the table on a wave of outrage. “You printed them? Jesus, what is this, the 1900s?”
“I like hard copies,” Dani shot back. “Hard copies can’t be scrubbed out of existence. Anyway, shut up, you’re ruining my moment.”
“Wait a fucking minute.” Rafe had drifted up behind Conall, looking amused, but his expression sharpened as he lunged at the table and snatched up the piece of paper. “Are you kidding me?”
Dani’s eyes gleamed as she grabbed Rafe’s shoulder and leaned over his arm to peer down at the paper he held. “I told you, didn’t I? It’s him.”
Rafe squinted. “I mean, it’s his face, for sure. Younger. But definitely him.”
Conall snapped a picture of the paper, then flipped open his tablet and propped it facing the whitewashed brick. The image filled the wall. Most of it was black-and-white text, but the image—a simple, serviceable shot of a man’s head and shoulders—was in color.
Gray inhaled sharply in recognition.
“It’s Savitri’s bodyguard,” Dani explained. “I thought I knew him from somewhere, and I was right. Ryan Lemieux—former Ex-Sec grunt and current dead person.”
Nina crossed her arms over her chest and frowned. “Real dead or fake dead?”
“Dead dead. Or so I thought. Killed in the line of duty.” Dani pointed at the projection. “I remember when this happened. Someone tried to kidnap the scientist he was assigned to, and he got shot in the head protecting her.”
She said it casually, as if it were to be expected—but Gray supposed it was. Protectorate soldiers may have had tragically short life expectancies, but executive bodyguards?
To the TechCorps, they were downright disposable.
“Ryan Lemieux. On it.” Conall drew a second tablet out of a pocket on his cargo pants and started tapping at the screen.
“You won’t find anything,” Dani told him. “Like I said—scrubbed.”
“Watch me,” Conall muttered, his fingers flying. But his brows had drawn together, and his glare deepened as he started to jab at the screen. “Where the fuck are you?”
“The TechCorps doesn’t like bad outcomes, remember?” Gray muttered. His own pristine medical record was proof enough of that. “You’re chasing your tail, Con.”
“Nikita Novak,” Nina read aloud. “This scientist—do we know anything about her? What was she working on?”
“Hold on.” Another round of furious typing against the screen, and Conall’s scowl deepened. “What the fuck? She’s gone, too.”
Maya wandered over to the table, cradling her mug of coffee. She peered at the projection, her brow creasing. “Nikita Novak…” she murmured. She reached out for the back of the chair next to Gray but froze, her fingers resting against it. “Nikita Novak. Got her.”
Gray pulled out the chair, then guided her into it when she didn’t move. She didn’t seem to notice. “Nikita Novak,” she said again. Her voice had fallen into its rhythmic cadence. “Father, Dimitri Novak. L2 scientist, Bioengineering. Mother, Jaya Novak. L1 specialist, Neural Networks. Nikita Novak was promoted to L1 specialist in 2075, at age twenty-seven. Lead Scientist, Guardian Project.”
Maya blinked, then frowned. Her voice returned to normal. “Birgitte could never figure out exactly what the Guardian Project was, just that it was something military. But if Nikita was promoted to L1 specialist status at twenty-seven, she was a scary kind of smart.”
“The scary kind of smart who could disappear, change her name to Savitri, and build an infamous criminal nightclub?” Rafe drawled.
“Probably.” Maya squinted past him. “I don’t think I ever saw a picture of her, so I can’t say for sure. And whatever she did, she didn’t pop up on Birgitte’s radar very often. With parents like hers, she was basically TechCorps royalty. Birgitte wasn’t exactly recruiting for the rebellion from the ranks of people with everything to lose.”
“Legacy’s a tricky thing,” Gray agreed. “You never know what you’re gonna get—a kid disillusioned with the whole thing, ready to tear it down? Or a true believer?”
Nina’s watch beeped. “We’ll have to handle this later. That’s Dakota. Her boss is ready to meet with me.”
Maya hopped up. “It’s Market Day, isn’t it? I want to come.”