The Gender End (The Gender Game #7)

He drew back a fist, slamming it down into her cheek, and she dropped to the ground. But Logan wasn’t finished, and as I watched, he knelt over her and began delivering blow after blow to her face. I stepped out into the hall, intent on checking on Amber, when her still form suddenly moved.

She groaned, and picked herself up as the other sounds faded away. The sound of Logan’s fist on the warden’s face was the only noise in the hallway. Amber’s breathing was strained, and I didn’t doubt she was in a lot of pain. I exhaled again, realizing her bulletproof vest had saved her life. But stopping a bullet from a powerful handgun such a short distance away wasn’t easy, and I was sure she would carry the bruise for a week.

Amber made it to her hands and knees, her eyes squinting in pain, and then turned.

“Logan,” she called softly, her voice hoarse, and he froze, then turned, his eyes staring at her. His anger and dismay melted into relief, and he crossed over and dropped in front of her, pulling her tight into his arms and cradling her against him.

“Thank God,” he breathed, and suddenly I felt very awkward standing there. Neither of them had noticed us yet, and now I felt like I was witnessing what should be a very intimate moment between them. Owen and I exchanged uncertain looks.

“It’s fine,” Amber said roughly. “I’m fine. Logan… I’m okay.”

“Dammit, Amber. I was so scared.” His hands started smoothing her hair as he held her. “You know I—”

Owen cleared his throat loudly, and Logan whirled, drawing his pistol and pointing it at us, still on his knees. He stared at us, Amber giving us a surprised look from over his shoulder, and then lowered his gun.

“Hey,” he said, so casually that it was as if he hadn’t been about to declare his everlasting devotion and love to Amber.

“Hey,” I said, fighting back a smile as Amber began to blush, hard, suddenly realizing the intimacy they were displaying.

“Let me go,” she ordered, her violet eyes lowered, and Logan took one arm from around her but kept the other there, helping her to stand. She didn’t shrug him off, just shook her red curls over to one side, then nodded and stepped away from the helping hand.

“Hey, guys,” she said, waving a hand in the air. “We, uh… We broke free of the guards.”

“So I see,” I replied, turning off the subvocalizer for the moment with a smile. “Are you okay?”

She nodded and then looked around.

“Uh… so… Operation Free the Boys?” she asked, leaning over to pick up the bag and gun the guard had confiscated from her.

Owen and I exchanged looks, and I nodded, turning back to meet her gaze.

“Yeah. Let’s, uh… Let’s do it.”

“Two floors up,” Owen added, taking a step back into the stairwell and pointing up.

“Cool,” Amber said, shouldering her rifle and taking her pistol out. She moved past Logan, who still stood motionless in the middle of the hall, staring at her, and toward us.

I looked at Logan and smiled. “C’mon.”

We climbed the steps quickly, syncing our channels and going back into silent communication. When we found the area of the security room, we stopped out of sight of the guards and began pulling off our gear, hiding it in one of those curtained alcoves I remembered from my escape from the palace… It felt like years ago, but it hadn’t been all that long.

The plan was simple and relatively straightforward: use the suits to get in, and then take control of the station. We had an advantage, even if they were expecting us.

When all of us were ready, Owen moved toward the door to the security room and went invisible, the rest of us following suit. I did as well, and suddenly remembered why I didn’t really like using the suit—it was worth it to be invisible, but only just.

I’m going in now, Owen declared. The door opened slowly—just wide enough for him to slip in—and then remained still. I got two guards waiting for something to come through this door, one at nine o’clock, the other at three, but they’re distracted by the reports coming in from the main room. The main room has four more people watching the screens and giving orders.

Thanks to Owen’s intelligence from inside, it was easy enough to slip by the first two guards and knock them out before they realized we were there. They had increased security, that much was certain, but with the four of us working in tandem and using the suits, we were able to take them out quickly and efficiently. We didn’t kill any of them, and within ten minutes, we had tied them up and tossed them into a side room. Soon, Owen was deep in the computer system, trying to use Thomas’ chips to determine how we could cut off Elena’s communications with the boys, while Amber, Logan, and I developed a plan.

Or rather, Amber did, while I listened to her reasoning for staying behind.

“I’m a woman,” she insisted. “I can radio the Matrians and send them on a wild goose chase. If I do it right, I can take over the command center here, and they’ll just think the shift changed. They might not even notice the cameras are under our control—it’ll keep up our cover for longer. That will buy us time for you guys to get to the control room, and—”

“The control room—transmission room—whatever you want to call it—isn’t here,” Owen announced at that moment, his voice glum. “It’s… I think it’s being patched through here though? I’m not really sure what I’m looking at.”

I looked over and saw him thumbing through the pages of Thomas’ notebook, his eyes searching for something. Then he frowned and looked over at me.

“It seems like Elena’s set up a relay station between here and the… people feeding the boys orders.”

“Okay… so we can’t stop the people who are giving them orders?” I asked, my stomach plunging. He hesitated, and then shook his head. All this work… it couldn’t be for nothing.

“Maybe not, but we might be able to get them to stall,” he said.

“What do you mean?” Logan asked, and he ran a hand through his hair.

“Someone here has to be giving someone there orders, right?”

“Not necessarily,” I replied, trying to understand what he was getting at. “Elena could’ve given them the orders before they left.”

“No,” Amber said. “A small sub-section of the Matrian governmental code is that no operation can legally be carried out without having constant communication with the palace.” She exhaled, and looked at us, her eyes wide. “It’s a small law, but an important one, drilled into the wardens. The fear was that if anything changed during a time of war—say, a treaty or peace—they needed to be able to contact everyone to make sure it was enforced.”

Logan gave her an incredulous look and shook his head.

“Who comes up with this? That’s ridiculous.”

“It’s not,” I told him. “Not when you consider what the Matrians stood for before Elena assumed control. None of them wanted to fight. They wanted peace from their neighbors, not war. You don’t leave an active weapon out there without a way to get them to stand down. Amber, how do you know that?”

She shrugged. “Desmond had us learn stuff like this in case we had to impersonate a warden.”