Didn’t they notice his voice? His accent? How could they not know?
Jesus Christ. That makes me laugh.
Nick Tate had a twin, just like the rest of us. And her name was Harper. At first glance you gotta feel sorry for the Admiral, right? All that genetic planning and plotting to make twins and what does he get for his trouble? A boy and a girl?
Such bad luck.
But, unlike the rest of us, Nick Tate wasn’t a twin, he was a triplet.
I have to hand it to the Admiral. He knew how to play the fuckin’ long game like a pro.
If he was still alive, I’d shake that man’s hand.
But anyway… I’m getting way ahead of myself now…
When Maggie started screaming out in the garden, I almost lost my shit. I was fucking high. Couldn’t even talk right. And Indie was going off on Nathan like a goddamned psycho. A sick fucking psycho. Nathan was a big dude and he was very good at martial arts by the time McKay stopped inviting him to train with Indie when he was around sixteen.
But she was crazy. She went crazy. And one good kick, man. Sometimes that’s all it takes.
It’s just… that wasn’t all it took this time.
I know Donovan made it into the house. He was going for his doctor bag that he always brings with him. He kept the drugs he used for Indie’s hypnosis in there. And that was where the Narcan spray was.
So I know he came running out yelling about drugs. And he dosed me with it and threw my clothes at me, yelling, “Take Maggie to the hospital, Adam! Right now!”
And my head cleared up pretty good. Not all the way because whatever Indie used on us, it was a cocktail. Not just one drug. But I could understand what was happening. I saw Maggie screaming. Just fuckin’ screaming her little head off.
I didn’t know it at the time, but eating those berries is like munching on chemicals. The inside of her mouth was bleeding by the time the doctors saw her in the emergency room. And those berries are deadly. She ate more than enough to die if I hadn’t gotten her to the emergency room.
And then I saw Nathan on the ground. And Indie standing over him. Donovan was dosing her with the Narcan, but she wasn’t on drugs. She was on… PSYOPS. So she wasn’t responding at all.
Carter got to her. I knew it. I knew it right away. And McKay… McKay was bent down next to Nathan and then the next thing I knew I had Maggie in my arms and I was shoving her in my truck.
I don’t even know how I got to the emergency room in Pearl Springs. They took us in right away and did something. But then we were in a fucking helicopter on our way to New Orleans because Pearl Springs was… well, ill-equipped.
I didn’t even have a phone. Or my wallet. I didn’t have shit. So that’s why I didn’t call McKay and Donovan and let them know what was up. I didn’t plan this. I was not in my right mind that first day in the hospital.
But, later, after Maggie was stabilized and I was sure she wasn’t gonna die, I went to my other family home in the French Quarter where I had documents and cash stashed. I changed clothes, bought a burner phone, and I had every intention of telling them that Maggie was fine. Well, she would be. They were still dealing with the toxins from the daphne berries, but she was responding well.
My head was clear by then. The drugs had worn off and I was running the last fourteen years back and forth in my mind. Over and over again.
That conversation with Gerald on the island. The girls in those cages. Donovan’s words of caution and big plans for a research paper. The way people were bidding on her at the auction. Indie’s little disappearing acts over the years. Angelica, James Fenici, and Nick Tate.
All those documents I was gifted when my trust fund matured the day I turned twenty-one. All those secrets that came with it.
The Double Negative Program. Which is not the same as the Negative Program. The Negative Program is just about twins. But, as the Admiral can attest, it doesn’t always go to plan.
You can have a set of identical twins and one fraternal in a trio of triplets. But that’s not how it shook out for the Admiral.
Lots of Untouchable families had this problem over the years. In fact, it’s pretty damn hard to have a set of identical twins. You really gotta have the right bloodlines, and even then, it’s a crapshoot.
The Double Negative program has been around since the nineteen forties. That’s how they did it in the old days before scientists could manipulate eggs and up your chances. And even now, when that kind of interference is possible, most of the time, those twins don’t happen. And if they do, they aren’t identical. So you gotta help Mother Nature out a little bit. Rearrange that face. Add a scar here and a tattoo there. Make it all look legit.
And let’s be clear, OK? Nick wasn’t the chosen one. His twin sister Harper was the chosen one. Nick was just another expendable. Just like me, and James, and Donovan.
And I guess you could include Core McKay in our exclusive little group if you really wanted to. It’s not the same, but it’s close enough, I guess. His father did have three sons, after all. And he did agree to my father’s plan.
That’s how I knew the Shadow of Secrets calling himself Nick Tate down in Daphne, Alabama wasn’t who everyone thought he was. He included McKay in our little group of Untouchables. The real Nick Tate would not make that mistake. Because the real Nick Tate does not. Make. Mistakes.
Or hell, maybe Real Nick had the Shadow make that mistake on purpose? Maybe he was dropping me a hint?
I didn’t need that hint. And the Nick I knew as a boy wasn’t known to be so accommodating.
But this Shadow Nick was so far gone—his mind and body so far away from the boy he started out as—he must’ve forgotten who McKay really was. I can only imagine the kind of mind fuck the real Nick did on his Shadow after Santa Barbara. The Company washed their hands of the whole Tate family after all those people died.
Nick wasn’t taken captive that night.
He set himself free.
Free to be himself. And oh, yeah. You think Indie’s scary? You think I’m scary? No. I was restrained. Indie was restrained. Even James Fenici was restrained once he fell for Harper Tate.
But Nick and Carter? Those boys are the real face of the Company killers.
Regardless, I’d have figured it out even if the Shadow didn’t make that mistake, but that just hurried along my understanding of the situation.
But here’s the thing I never understood about the Company. They do this to us. To me, to James, to Nick, to Donovan. They turn us into these killers, and mind-fuckers, and psychopaths. They chew us up and spit us out. And they never see us coming, do they?
They keep those doubles safe and give them a cushy life in big houses or too-long yachts. They send them to the best schools. They give them everything and make them soft so they are ready for their upcoming Manchurian Candidate political careers.
They do this, while all the while, they are making us expendables hard.
How did they not see this coming?
If my father were alive, I’d fuckin’ slap him. Shake him hard by the shoulders. Scream in his face—Why don’t you see us coming?
Anyway… I’m off track again.
I didn’t know how deep this Indie betrayal went. The only thing I knew was that Carter was involved and I had to protect Maggie. So I sent that text to McKay. I was gonna just lie to him. Tell him straight up that Maggie was dead and then quietly disappear with her. But I couldn’t.