The Drafter

He hit him with everything he had, all his anger, frustration, and fear focused into six inches of bone. Matt’s head snapped back, and he fell, out cold even as Silas shook his hand out, not even bruised.

 

“For that,” he said, pulse fast. Silas snatched up the duffel, stuffing it with equipment he wanted from the shelves and cubbies. Finished, he threw it out of the van, tossing his coat to land on top of it. The sun was setting, and he took a moment at the door to breathe in the cold, snow-tinged air. Low-Q drones, barely visible in the dusk, skimmed up and down the river, their only legal pathway now that the sun was down. There was a chance that Fran would simply proceed without him. But the longer he gazed at the river, the wider his smile became. Maybe he could learn to like Detroit.

 

Breath held against the smell, he ducked back inside for a last check before he sank the van.

 

He needed to get her alone was all, away from Jack Twill in such a way that she didn’t freak out. It would be nigh impossible due to the heavy conditioning against being alone that Opti had instilled in her. It would have to be her idea; she’d have to be the one in control. But if he could get her alone and comfortable, five minutes with the right drugs ought to do it.

 

“But not these,” he said, looking again at what he’d taken out of his duffel. Angry, he yanked open the med drawers, riffling through until he found what he wanted. Something softer, something she was used to.

 

Vials clattering in his grip, he slammed the drawers shut, the memory of how sensitive she was lifting through him. His shoulders slumped, and then he hardened. Shifting the van into neutral, he shoved the vials in his pocket, then grabbed Matt’s arms and dragged him thumping down the back step to land against the duffel. It was a job. That was all.

 

Matt moaned and sat up, holding his head. “What are you doing?” he asked when he realized he was sitting on pavement.

 

Feeling a new sense of purpose in the chill evening, Silas went to the back of the van. He put his shoulder to it, and pushed.

 

“Hey! Stop!” Matt staggered to his feet and looked at the nearby river. “Dr. Denier, what are you doing?”

 

With a groan of success, Silas got the van moving, creeping slowly and pebbles popping from under its wheels. “No!” Matt shouted, running after it and trying to pull it to a halt. Silas’s smile widened as the van hit the water, slowing but not stopping as it crept deeper.

 

“Are you crazy!” Matt shouted as he stood at the edge of the water and shook. “Everything we need is in there!”

 

Silas put on his coat and went to stand beside him, satisfied as the van stopped in four feet of water. Clapping him across the shoulder, he said, “I’m not.”

 

Matt turned to him, aghast.

 

“Tell Fran that I’ll get the information.” Silas swung his duffel up over his shoulder like a backpack. “I need at least three days to learn her state of mind and come up with an idea. If I see Fran or one of her stooges, I’ll spook Peri myself and she’ll never get anything.”

 

“B-but my van …,” Matt stammered, lost.

 

Silas smiled. “I need three days,” he said, then turned and walked away. Matt was already on his phone, but by the time they got the van out and dried up, Silas would have something to placate Fran with.

 

He’d get Peri back, and he’d do it his way, so she might survive it. But even as he strode forward, Matt’s curses and threats growing faint, a worry wedged itself between his thought and his reason.

 

He knew she loved the control, the money, the sense of superiority and independence that Opti had lavished on her and used to lure her into self-blindness. It was why she’d volunteered for it in the first place.

 

The harsh reality was that there was a chance she might not want to come back.

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER

 

NINE

 

 

Peri tugged at the thick oak door of Overdraft to find it locked. Frank was a blurry image through the stained-glass window, standing on a ladder with his head in the sound system. Below him, the silver disk of a floor sweep moved in its methodical path, a purple haze of UV light glowing. It was just shy of one in the morning, but clearly they’d closed early.

 

Frank looked up as Peri tapped on the window with her car fob. She drew back, disconcerted as she realized the cut glass formed Opti’s hourglass-like logo, glowing in the dark like a beacon. Frank’s voice was muffled as he shouted to someone before returning to his task.

 

“I’ll talk to Frank, you take Sandy,” Jack said, fidgeting as he scanned the barren parking lot dusted with new snow; Peri’s Mantis was a sleek shadow under the security lights, recharged and back to its usual black and silver.