Page 71 of Remade
“What’s the verdict so far, Doc?” I asked quietly.
He hummed, hands clasped behind his back. “Watts, Flores, and Lawson are fine. They move around methodically to keepcirculation going. The others are struggling a bit. Montgomery is restless.”
“He’ll definitely talk first,” Danny muttered without turning around. “We made the right choice throwing in trainees from other places. They’re exhibiting wariness to trust a stranger.”
As had been our goal in shaking things up. It was difficult to make them insecure if they knew one another too well.
Doubts and uncertainties were emotions they had to grapple with.
“I wanna talk to Jones,” I said.
“He’ll be back with pizza any moment—” Danny barely got the last word out before the door behind me swung open, and Jones entered with two pies in his grasp.
I smirked. “Back from a gruesome interrogation?”
He chuckled and placed the pies on the table by Danny. “Yeah, they asked if I wanted anythin’ else.”
My stomach snarled at the smell of cheese, pepperoni, and oregano, so I was quick to accept a slice of Domino’s finest.
Exactly what I needed at this hour.
“Are you going back in again?” Em wondered.
Jones shrugged. “Depends. Are you doing more interrogations tonight?”
I looked to Danny for his response.
“I think we’re done for now,” he said. “We brought Lawson out last, and we said we’d come for Watts and Ortiz later.”
A bit of anticipation stress would do them good. Strengthen them.
“I wouldn’t mind a nap,” Jones said around a mouthful of pizza. “They’re not saying anything with the hoods on anyway.”
I wished I could say the same for my unit. It hadn’t even occurred to them that people might be listening. They’d heard a door close and suddenly believed it was safe to strategize.
We obviously wanted the trainees to keep their mouths shut when they couldn’t see their surroundings. We’d get our information, regardless.
The reason we always planted moles in our units was for every moment the unit was actually alone. Elliott Jones sure as fuck didn’t need any training here. He’d been a Hillcroft operator for longer than I had, before he’d started JATE on the West Coast. But considering our recruits had been all over the building this year, with the water leak forcing them out of the recruit dorms, we’d played it safe and called in favors from outside the agency. Leighton and Tanner, especially, knew the faces of one too many operators around here.
“Elliott, your two cents for the day.” Danny extended a pen and rose from his seat.
Jones nodded and sat down. “Not much has changed, for the record. Leighton Watts, Miguel Flores, and Gabriella Ortiz will make fine operators.”
I smiled to myself and took another bite of pizza.
A while later, the door behind me opened again, and it was Tanner’s big brother, Fin.
“One of the recruits called it, sir.”
Aw, hell.
I walked out without a word and followed him back toward my unit. “Who is it?”
“Philip.”
Fuck. Okay. Maybe he was just overwhelmed.
I got back in our room, and I told the junior operators to give us a moment. Philip sat on a stool, hood off, a blanket around him, and he was chugging water.
