“Why are you so shocked?”
“I guess I’m not. Well, maybe a little.”
“Strung-out junkies with lots of tattoos aren’t known for their language skills?”
“I know you’re not a strung-out junkie. What about your abilities? Do they help you learn about subjects like they do people?”
“Probably. I remember almost everything I read. I compartmentalize it the same way I do when I gather information about people.”
“So you’re basically the smartest person on this planet, and they have you locked up in a basement to get into some senator’s bank account?”
“I can’t tell if you’re joking or not.”
“I am. And I’m not. We need to get you out of here so you can save the world or something.”
He cringes. “That’s the last thing I want. I’ve spent half my life being exploited. If I ever get out of here, I’m going to find a small cabin in the middle of nowhere and eat fish and berries forthe rest of my life.” He smiles at my silence. “Don’t worry, you’re coming with me. I’ll need someone to bake the pies.”
“Sorry, but if your future rests on my baking skills, you’re in more trouble than you thought.”
He grins, and the rare levity triggers a surge of emotion in me. I want that life for him. He deserves peace, but we both know it’s a fantasy. “How long do you think we have? They’ll be back soon, won’t they?”
The brief light dims with his nod. “Probably. This was a calculated meeting. They weren’t trying to be nice.”
“I don’t want to leave you here. When you were free, there was always the possibility that you’d show up. Now there’s nothing.”
“At least you don’t have to worry about bloody furniture anymore. And you can keep my apron.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m being serious. What are we going to do?”
“I’m not sure yet, but I’m getting out of here. I can’t go on like this much longer.”
“What are they waiting for? They can’t think locking you up is going to help them achieve anything.”
“I don’t know.”
We freeze at the approaching footsteps. I sense his desperation when our eyes meet and kiss him before putting distance between us. The door clicks open to reveal Clausen on the other side.
The Director studies us in silence before making a comment in German. Daniel’s eyes narrow, and he spits something back. I watch helplessly as they argue. Daniel is upset, and at one point he pushes himself to his feet. The heated debate rages on until finally Daniel pounds the wall and sinks back to the floor in frustration.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
They exchange glances with each other, and Clausen takes my arm. “Nothing you need to worry about. Daniel and I just had a few things to discuss.”
I twist around to get an answer from Daniel, but he meets my question with a discreet headshake. The interview is over.
“How long are you going to keep him like that?” I ask, once we’re seated in Clausen’s office.
“I know it seems harsh, but it’s the only way to guarantee his safety.”
“Maybe, but can’t he have books or something? It seems dangerous to his mental state to be confined like that. How is complete isolation for a person suffering from depression going to help?”
“Fair enough. I’ll see what I can do. Did you learn anything in your time together?”
I nod and consider my response. “I think I saw something that might help, but I’m not sure.”
“It’s best if you just tell me, and I’ll make the evaluation.”
“Okay, well, I tried to get as close as I could to the actual attempt, but he figured out what I was doing. I didn’t get as much as I hoped.”
