“We don’t know Zeke’s schedule or his ability to escape. Even if I make it into Deep Echo, if he’s not right there I’ll have to wait, increasing the risk of detection.”

“So we need his schedule and his health status. How do we get that?”

I shook my head. “We don’t need his schedule. We just need to find where he sleeps.”

“Abscond with him in the middle of the night? Not many distractions at night.”

“But the typical person is tired, slow, and unsuspecting.”

Kitsch nodded. “All right then. This is a night mission.”

We followed the air ducts and ventilation, mapping out my escape, locating the Deep Echo Fire team’s headquarters, but the sleeping quarters weren’t specified.

“You’re going to have to be patient, Naomi. It’s a disadvantage that Peter knows you so well.”

“How patient?”

“They’ll be watching you. Give it a few weeks.”

“I’m not known for being patient.”

“Too much at stake not to be. We need the right night, and if it’s too soon after one of Zeke’s procedures, you’ll have to drag him out, and he might not survive it.”

“Dr. Cohen would know.”

“How are you going to get that info without him alerting Bennett?”

“Because scientists want the world to know about their discoveries and successes. They are in the business of change and discovery, and you can’t do that keeping it all to yourself. It’s in their nature. Leave it to me.”

Kitsch nodded. “Too risky. We’ll have to find another way.”

I stood upright, perching my hands on my hips, frustrated. “Copy that.”

***

After giving Peter the silent treatment for two and a half weeks, he called me into his office. I sat in the chair across from his huge mahogany desk, glaring at him. “Is he really necessary?”

Peter looked up at the enormous armed guard next to him. “You’ve tried to attack me and have threatened me multiple times, so yes.”

I rolled my eyes. “I don’t recall you being such a pussy when we were kids; otherwise, I wouldn’t have been so interested in you.”

Peter leaned forward, his elbows on the desk. “You need to make a choice. Either you accept things how they are, or you’ll have to move on.”

“What are you talking about?” I snarled.

“I can’t keep you here behaving so hostile. My authority is beginning to be questioned. The general brought it to my attention, and I simply can’t afford not to have his respect.”

“Hostile? I haven’t spoken to you.”

“It’s a hostile work environment, Naomi. The general has noticed. Either stop pouting and being subtly defiant or pack up.”

“By pouting and defiance, you mean I’m no longer treating you like a friend, and I’m not allowing you in my home?”

“That’s not what I said.”