Project HALO

Chapter 25

Maya's words ring in my head after she leaves, echoing through every dark corner of my mind. I didn't ask for any of this, yet I'm somehow at the center of this never-ending hurricane that keeps twisting in every direction. I'm the one being headhunted by two organizations. Two powerful organizations. On one side, Regina threatens me and the future of Norway. On the other side, Phantom created my entire role in this mess. In other words: great first impressions. Impressions that make me wonder how I can trust any of them. How do you trust people who won't let you make your own decisions?

A sudden snap jolts me out of my dazed thoughts.

I'm grateful when I see Mikey and his hand a few centimeters from my face, staring at me with a questioning gaze. Most of the color is back in his cheeks, though it can't compete with the redness in his eyes.

"What?" I say. I'm still sitting down, my bandaged arms folded over my chest. My jeans are stained with dots of dark red, making me look like some kind of fancy artist.

"Hey, shitkids, how about that tour?" he says, lowering his tone to mimic Frank's raspy yet enthusiastic voice. He then slides his hand into the candy bag to get another hit of sour.

"That's an awful impression," Frank exclaims as he rounds the corner. He gives Mikey a light shove.

"Hm, you're right. It was too manly," Mikey says, and is shoved again. He winces. "Ouch! Violence is never the answer," he says with an offended pout.

"Violence is always the answer," I say and get to my feet, slapping the nape of his neck to prove the point.

"Hey!" Mikey cries, but I simply present him a wide grin in return.

"Fine, let's get this tour over with. As long as I don't have to do a whole meet and greet," I say. "I'm too tired to act nice."

"And you say Mikey is a diva." Frank purses his mouth. "Come on then, rock stars. I'll show you the kitchen later. It's dinnertime now and everybody's in there. And I swear we'll be super quick so you can rest up. Deal?"

"Deal," Mikey and I agree.

Sleep is more tempting, but the painkillers block the worst of the pain, and I can stay awake for a short tour. I want to see where things are, anyway. To feel more in control.

"Follow me," Frank says and we walk out of the training room.

"You okay, Mikey?" I ask as we trail after Frank. The wound on his head is covered with an adhesive band and his arms bandaged, but he did pass out and could probably need some rest.

He cracks a candy between his teeth. "I'll be fine, mom. I'm too curious to sleep now. I want to see how the Phantoms are living here."

"Agreed. Then we sleep."

"Then we sleep."

There are still a few people on the computers in the other room when we enter. The only sound is the constant clacking of fingers against the computer keyboards. Every screen has a small area on top covered with a piece of black tape. I'm not surprised. Mikey has always forced me to cover my web cameras as well.

"We call this the computer room, but it's also a sort of living room. Anyway, here the hackers have their office of justice. And the kitchen is over there, by the way." Frank points at a half-open door next to the TV. We can hear a buzz of murmurs from inside. "But let's go upstairs for now."

He leads the way up, the stairs creaking with each step we take.

Upstairs, we are faced by several doors and peeling paint on the walls. This must be the darkest part of the whole building, because there are no windows in the hallway and the overhead lights are weak and flickering.