I don’t follow. “I would prefer Ms. Morrow stay with me.”
The man stops and turns around. “That’s not possible at the moment. And I strongly advise you to come with me. Especially if you truly wish to clear your name.”
Mia glances at me as Jones hurries her past. Confusion and concern rim her eyes, and I feel that pang in my chest. I almost reach out and grab her arm but check myself at the last second. I don’t have many options at the moment, and they’ve made it clear that staying with Mia is not one of them.
16: Mia
I have to stuff down my panic at being separated from Jax. Funny how quickly your abductor becomes your only familiar face. I’m not sure if I’m going from frying pan straight to fire. Or if I’m saved.
Jones, the man in the brown blazer, guides me gently by the elbow as we go down a short hallway. I turn to look behind me for Jax, but he and the man in the suit are already gone from the glass corridor. Jax’s information still lights up the display, the word FUGITIVE pulsing red.
“This way, Ms. Morrow,” Jones says.
“Where are you taking me?” I ask.
“Just to our visitor lounge.” As we approach a set of steel doors, a scanner sends a green light across his body. The panels open for us.
We enter what seems to be an elevator, but there are no buttons.
The doors close, and we start going down. I reach for the wall to steady myself in the crazy shoes. Before I can even ask where we’re going or how this elevator is controlled, the doors slide open again.
The corridor ahead is oval shaped, barely taller than us and only slightly wider. The walls are smooth and metal. Jones leads the way, and I try to walk more normally. I am determined to get the hang of these heels.I try not to think about what will happen if I have to try to escape in them.
“What is this place?” I ask.
“It’s an old missile silo,” Jones says pleasantly. He slows his pace to accommodate my unsteady gait.
“But what is it now?” I ask. “Those glass walls we came through aren’t from a missile silo.”
We arrive at another set of doors. Again Jones is scanned. But before the steel panels can part, he holds up his hand, palm forward. A red light blinks and the doors stay closed. My anxiety rises.
“How much did Jax tell you?” he asks.
He’s fishing for information. I don’t want to get Jax in trouble.
“Nothing,” I say innocently. “He says he found me at a safe house and therefore my identity was compromised. He thought I’d be safer here.”
All lies. I can do this. I think of my mother, what she would say and do if she had no idea who was friend or enemy.
Jones nods. “Well, don’t trouble yourself with any of that. We’ll make sure your home is safe enough when we get you back.”
My head snaps up. “I can go home?”
“Of course you can,” he says. He lowers his hand and the light switches to green. The doors open smoothly.
For a moment, I can’t connect what I see ahead of me with the bare metal tube we just walked through. It’s like a hotel lobby. A few people wander through the plush space, artfully decorated with low sofas, a twisted metal sculpture in the center, and a long curving desk to one side.
At the desk, six women sit facing out, looking at a glass screen that separates them from the people passing by. Projected on the screen are images, words, maps, and dots. They busily move their hands over the information and talk into little microphones that come from their ears.
There is no natural light. The walls are marble but have no windows. We must be deep underground from the elevator ride.
A slender woman in a tailored pale blue suit approaches. “This must be Mia,” she says and reaches for my hand. “You are surely exhausted. If I know Jax, he hasn’t fed you or let you sleep.”
“We slept — I slept,” I say, fumbling for words.
Her expression doesn’t change. “I’m Dell. I’ll arrange for your return home.” She nods at Jones. “I’ll take it from here.”
“It’s been a pleasure,” Jones says. Then he walks away. I feel abandoned again.
