![]() | ![]() |
“SO—ARE WE GOING TO tell them everything?”
The question seemed innocent enough, but Darcy bristled when Tony asked it a second time. Connor saw the look on his foster father’s face, and was thankful he hadn’t been the one to bring it up.
The savages were still on the balcony, cut off by the locked door and darkened windows. Connor was uneasy at the thought of them having any unsupervised time together—they could be planning any number of betrayals.
We’re twenty floors up. He forced himself to relax. It’s not like they can go anywhere.
“What did I just say?” Darcy glowered at Tony, who blanched and fell silent. “We need more Implants—it’s as simple as that. How many times do I have to repeat myself?”
Darcy whirled to glare at the blank screen over the hearth, as if he could pry the Givers’ secrets from its uncooperative surface. With a visible effort, he bottled his temper and gestured to Tony without looking at him.
“Stow your weapon, and then bring the savages in. The bombing incident at the Gallery—we’ll allow them to watch the Infomedia report and draw their own conclusions. Then we’ll take them to the Surveillance Monitoring Division and give them access to the raw footage.”
He reached down and pushed the button to return the windows to their unfiltered setting. Tony hastened to the door, eager to placate Darcy’s wrath. Connor dared to ask one last question in the short interval before the savages returned.
“Is there any question we shouldn’t ask?” He kept his voice neutral, hoping Darcy would catch the subtle difference in his question over Tony’s. To his relief, Darcy understood.
“Excellent. You’re learning, Connor,” Darcy replied. He seemed pleased. “Treat them as though their opinions and insights are valuable. Allow them to believe we’re interested in their thoughts on the Gallery protest.”
He leaned closer, lowering his voice as Tony unlocked the balcony door.
“But no questions about Megan.” His icy gaze bored into Connor. “Nothing to tip them off about the price they’ll pay for what they’ve done to her. Let the savages bring her into the Enclave of their own accord, with no suspicions.”
Busted. Connor met his foster father’s gaze, swallowing hard. He knew Darcy was right. Do nothing to jeopardize the cause.
“Yes, sir,” he whispered as the savages edged past the belligerent Tony. “Not a word.”