Birthright

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

The escorts shoved Kray into a chair and grabbed his arms, settling them on the armrests. He heard a sharp clank and suddenly couldn't move his wrists. They secured the manacles to his ankles as well. He tested the strength of the manacles by lifting one arm as far as he could. It barely budged before he was exhausted. Any other day he might have been able to break free, but not today. Today, he was at their mercy.

The blindfold was pulled from his eyes. He winced against the glare of the fluorescent light. The room was sparse, furnished with two metal chairs—which he and Alex occupied—and a bunch of electronic equipment on a table in front of them. There was an old-fashioned computer and a desk in a corner, connected to wires that were in turn also connected to a video camera sitting on a tripod.

The camera was aimed at Alex.

She gave him a grim look that said, I told you so. They were going to use her to send a message, probably to her father. Blackmail? A ransom? Whatever it was, he knew the outcome wouldn't be good. Even if General Drasse didn't love his daughter, he couldn't leave her in the hands of criminals. It would be terrible for his public image if he did.

But whatever these people wanted from him would be just as terrible.

The Meta returned to the room with three of his buddies. They were dressed in the standard Meta uniform, but they also wore full gas masks to cover their faces. That explained the muffled quality to the speaker's voice earlier.

"Our leader has agreed to your terms," the speaker from before said. Kray could only make out his glowing golden eyes behind the mask. "He also wanted me to tell you not to push your luck in the future. He might not be so amenable."

"I will take his warning to heart," Rousseau answered with a small bow and a smile playing at his lips.

Kray glanced at Alex in question, wondering who this leader was, but she wasn't looking at him. She was staring straight at the camera, her eyebrows furrowed. His heart began to sink. "Do whatever they ask you to do," he said to her quietly.

Craters stepped up, chuckling. "Normally, talking without permission would have earned you a bruise, but I'll allow it this time. Listen to him, girl. If you value your life, you will do exactly as we order."

Not the best kind of threat for someone like her, but Kray didn't correct the man.

One of the Metas, probably the technical expert, went over to the camera and fiddled with it. A green light came on, signaling that the camera was recording. Kray hadn't seen one of these contraptions in person. They were obsolete compared to drones, which were small gadgets that either flew like bees or moved like spiders with extendable limbs that allowed for filming from different angles.

But the downside to such technology was that everything was registered to a device. With a recorder like this one, they could make an untraceable video and then use proxy networks to upload it to the Nexus. If they were smart, they wouldn't even send it from here. They'd send their messengers to hand-deliver the video to another location, possibly somewhere in the Skads or the Outskirts. No one would ever know where it originated from.

"Cadet Drasse," the Meta in charge addressed Alex. He paused as his eyes traveled over her body, assessing her with that cool and calculated look that was a trademark of his kind. "You look like you've seen better days."

"I've had worse," she replied in a similarly detached tone.

His boots thudded heavily as he paced in front of her. "I would expect nothing less from you. Under normal circumstances I would offer you better hospitality, but unfortunately fate has brought us together at a most inopportune time."