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Annie looked pale and drawn, and when she saw Bryn, her eyes filled with tears. She came over, and they hugged silently for a long, long moment. “I was so worried about you,” Annie whispered. “God, Bryn. You okay?”


“Yeah, I’m fine,” Bryn said, and patted Annie’s back. “Not like we haven’t been through worse, right?”


“That is way too right to be funny anymore. Oh God, I guess we’re going to have to call the fam pretty soon and lie to them, aren’t we? Just so they don’t freak out and do something stupid like call the cops and file missing persons on us.”


That was an excellent point, and Bryn was a little startled that she hadn’t thought of it. “God, you’re right. We had to ditch the cell phones, after all. They might think we’ve been—”


“Abducted,” Annie said, and burst into strange, borderline-hysterical laughter. “Funny, isn’t it?”


The laughter was infectious, and Bryn felt it bubbling its way up out of her too—not humor, exactly, but a black kind of amusement liberally mixed with despair. She clung to Annie, and Annie held on to her, and they laughed it out until they finally got enough breath to separate.


Annie wiped her eyes and said, “I guess we really should eat something, right?”


“I hope they have steak,” Bryn said. “I really hope they have steak.”


In fact, they did. Evidently, Riley and Pansy had put their heads together, and dinner was mostly available self-serve in pots and pans . . . but there were steaks, big ones, and a small stack of them were left almost raw. When Bryn took a plate, Riley—who looked rested and fresh, too—pointed her toward the meat. “Specially made,” she said. “I think you’ll find it’s what you need. It helped me a lot.”


“You already ate?”


“Had to,” Riley said. That was a short answer, but it conveyed a lot, especially when she raised her eyebrows just a bit. “Pansy was kind enough to fix something.”


That must have been quite the culinary conversation, Bryn thought. “Is Manny awake?”


“Oh, yes,” Liam said, where he was spooning broccoli onto his plate beside a chicken breast. “Mr. Glickman woke very loudly. He is now barricaded in his room and says he will not come out until you and Riley vacate the premises and he has a chance to decontaminate the rooms.”


“He’ll come around,” Pansy said. “It was just the shock. He’ll be monitoring to make sure everything stays chill. If it does, he’ll come out in a few days. You’ll see.”


“We don’t have days,” Patrick said. He and Joe already had plates and were seated at the table, and Joe was halfway through what looked like some kind of stew. Bryn plated her steak and carried it over to sit next to them. “We have a day, maybe, but the people behind the Fountain Group’s research, whoever they are, however they intend to use all this sick technology. . . they clearly have more money than Gates. They’ll find us, and as good as this place is, it has vulnerabilities—principally, it’s a bunker, which means limited ways in and out. They can, and will, find a way to dig us out, and we’ll have a hard time slipping by them once they settle in. So here’s my thought: we let them lay siege, but some of us go on now and take the fight directly to their doorstep. We can’t win this by fighting a defensive war.”


“How exactly can we do that, when we have no idea where their doorstep might be?” Annie asked, as she put her food on the table and sat down beside Joe. “Other than Pharmadene, I mean. I’d rather not take the fight to them there again, please.”


“The FBI will take good care of Pharmadene; trust me, they’re probably not too happy that their people got subverted in the first place,” Bryn said. “But we do know something. We know who owned the old folks’ home that was our first introduction to the nanite harvesting.”


“The Fountain Group,” Patrick said. “Liam’s doing the research. Well, he was before we had to break off and run, but I suppose membership in this fortress comes with Wi-Fi access.”


“If you ask me nicely,” Pansy said sunnily. “The password is randomly generated, and it changes every day. I’ll let you know where to get the new codes.”


“Wow,” Bryn said. “Doesn’t it just make you tired? All the . . . security?”


“Sure,” Pansy answered, and spooned up soup. “But you end up surrendering things, little by little, when your partner needs more than you do. And Manny needs it. You get used to it. It’s not any different from living here when the Titan missile program was actually under way, only we have Blu-ray and surround sound.”


“That’s one way to look at it, I suppose. Liam?”


“I’ll continue the Fountain Group investigation immediately,” Liam nodded. “Of course, they will know we’re onto them once I begin to dig hard.”


“They can’t trace it here. We use a lot of anonymizers.”


“Of course you do, dear Pansy. But nevertheless, they will know someone is checking, and that will cause them to upgrade their alert status. I imagine that will make them move with a bit more speed. We should factor it in.”


Bryn controlled the sudden urge to tear into her steak with her bare hands, and forced herself to use the steak knife and fork she’d brought over with her. The first bloody, juicy bite of meat made her shiver in cell-deep relief, and she closed her eyes and let out a slow sigh of a breath.


When she opened her eyes, they were all looking at her.


“Good steak,” she said, and took another bite. They watched another few seconds, probably to be sure she wouldn’t turn ravenous zombie on them, and went back to their own meals.


Pansy, Bryn noticed, had strapped on a sidearm, and she’d been aiming the weapon at her under the table the whole time. Now Pansy slipped it back into its holster and gave Bryn a half-apologetic lift of her shoulders. Bryn didn’t really blame her. Being ready at all times to kill her, at least temporarily, was probably the bargain that Pansy had made with Manny to allow Bryn to stay—and it was good tactical sense. And for all her calm good humor, and seeming fragility, Pansy was perfectly capable of pulling the trigger when it counted. Much like Manny, although Manny was often a bit too eager on that score.


“Liam’s right,” she said, as she cut her third bite. “Once you start poking into the Fountain Group, they’ll react, and if we’re sending a team out of here, it needs to be away before they’re parked outside our front door. The point of having a fortress is to pin our enemies down in one place and leave a strike force mobile. I say we stay the night and head out in the morning—and then Liam starts his Internet stalking. He can send us info as he gets it.”


Nobody had any objections, except for Annie. She was glaring across the table at Bryn. “You’re going to leave me stuck here, aren’t you?” she asked. “Oh, come on, I know it’s coming. I’m the stupid kid sister liability.”


“No,” Riley Block said. She’d already finished half her steak, eating quickly and quietly, but she drew all their attention now. “You’re a liability for several reasons, Annie. You’re not combat trained, for one thing. For another, you still require the shot daily, and that means carrying supplies that can be destroyed or lost, putting you at risk.” She exchanged a glance with Bryn, and made a decision. “I didn’t say it earlier because I thought it might complicate matters, but . . . I don’t need the shots, either. I’m upgraded. Like Bryn.”


Silence around the table, and then Patrick said, tightly, “Why keep that from us?”


“Because when Manny found out one of us was upgraded, he shot Bryn in the head. I had good reason to think he’d take a more salt-the-earth approach if he thought it was some kind of epidemic.”


Joe thought it over, and he was the first to shrug. “Fine by me,” he said. “The way I see it, we’re going to need advantages if we intend to have any kind of a shot at winning.”


Annie licked her lips. “But—I could help, right? I could. I’m not helpless.”


“There is no but to it,” Riley said. “You’re a liability, and you stay here. Manny and Pansy have all the supplies necessary to make the serum for you, and you can help them defend this place if needed. Besides, I’m sure Bryn would feel better not having to worry about losing you, again. If you were my sister, I’d want you kept as much out of danger as possible, Annie, because you’re family. I’m pretty sure Bryn feels the same.”


Annalie fell silent, studying Riley; it was exactly what Bryn would have said, but somehow, it was going down much better coming from an impartial third party. And incredibly, Annie nodded. “Okay,” she said. “I admit, that makes sense. But I hate being the one who isn’t, you know, up to it.”


“The best people are the broken ones,” Pansy said, “because we heal stronger. Look at Manny and me. We’ve been shattered and glued back together, just like you. You’re not fragile, Annie. You’re still healing. There’s a difference.”


Annie took a deep breath, and nodded. She even ate some broccoli, which Bryn knew she loathed. Seemed like a good first step.


“So we rest,” said Joe Fideli, “and hit the road tomorrow. Pat, me, Riley, Bryn. Liam and Annie stay here with you, Pansy. Sound right?”


“It sounds perfect. Make me a list of what you want to take with you in terms of supplies and weapons, and I’ll get it together. How’s the chow?”


“You should open an underground fortress restaurant and day spa,” Joe said. “Maybe put in a massage therapy room, an aromatherapy pool . . .”


“You’re assuming we don’t already have one?”


“I’d never assume a damn thing about you, Pansy. Because I’d always be wrong.”


“You say the sweetest things, Mr. Fideli. Just for that, I’ll give you the half-off special on hot stone massage.”