Infection Runs Deep

CHAPTER FORTY -TWO: RIGHT ON

Warner flicked my nose and I pulled back, sticking my tongue out at him. "It's too much to ask of them," he said. "Letting us in isn't that big of a deal since they can claim plausible deniability, but making them cut it themselves is implicating them fully in our treasonous plot. Besides, I want to see those wires cut with my own eyes."

"I hate to be that person, but," I hesitated. Warner was not going to like this.

"Spit it out, El."

"What happens after?" I tugged on the ring at my neck, the metal sharply cold. It stung that I still hadn't taken it off, but I wasn't ready to part with it yet. "I mean, say that we stop this. We cut the wires and everything. What's to say the Colonel won't fix it and then try again?"

"Shit," Warner muttered. "You're right. Especially with the suits here. They're the ones in charge. The fucking bureaucrats. But they want results and fast. They'll get us out of the way and do this again."

"Unless it screws with their window too much."

"WHat do you mean?"

"In an experiment," I said, "you want every condition to be exactly the same except for the variable that you are testing. That includes time. Maybe they won't do it if it doesn't occur at the right time."

"That seems a bit far fetched, El. I doubt they would throw away the million of dollars they spent on this because they were a day behind schedule."

He was right. It was just a vain hope. "I don't know, then. But this can't be inevitable. It's wrong."

"Sometimes the wrong thing prevails. You can do everything right, make no mistakes, give 100% of your best effort, and still fail. Sometimes you can't change fate." He shook his head grimly, a sort of macabre acceptance. "Sometimes the good guys lose."

"I don't believe in fate," I said. "I believe that we can make a difference despite everything. We have to, otherwise we are just pawns in a game run by gods."

"Who do you think is playing god? Not you or me. It's those men that want to control everything. They think that we are less than they are." He leaned back against the seat, letting his head fall back. "If we don't realize that and fight back, it gives them power over us."

"Then, let's fight back," I said, leaning closer in challenge. "It doesn't matter if the Colonel tries to carry out his plan later if we don't stop him now. Let's worry about the problems we actually have, not the what ifs."

He pressed his lips together for a long moment before he finally met my gaze. "You're right. We need to focus on this plan. Not anything else. Go one step at a time."

"One step at a time," I echoed, a note of confidence rising in my tone. "So now that we knwo we have to break in, what's our first move?"

"Your firsrt move is to take a nap."

I stared to protste. "There's no time for sleeping. I have to--"

"No," Warner said with finality. "You are going to pass out soon and I need you rested for later. I'll handle some communications with Mark. Your job is to get your shit togtehr so we can execute the plan. Got it, soldier?"

I grimaced, knowing that he was right, but not wanting to comply. He raised his eyebrows and I finally bent to his will. With a sardonic flick of my hand, I saluted him. "Sir, yes, sir."

"Take your hot rod back to Cal Hall." He patted the roof as he slid back onto the gravel. "I'll get you as soon as it's time."

"Thank you, Warner. Really." I smiled sadly. "I can't imagine how hard this is for you."