Pawn (The Blackcoat Rebellion #1)(51)
Author: Aimee Carter

A few moments later, Knox cleared his throat. “As I was saying, I asked you here because I think I have a way of getting Celia to give Greyson back with as little bloodshed as possible.”

I tucked myself underneath Benjy’s arm. “How? She’s irrational, and we have no idea where she is.”

“You’re going to have to trust me on this. If I’m wrong…” He hesitated. “It’s better you don’t know the details.”

“If you’d just listened to me on the plane, we could have warned Augusta before this happened,” I said. “I’m not stupid, you know.”

“Yes, I realize that. You can say ‘I told you so’ as much as you want later on. Right now we have bigger issues to tackle.” He looked at Benjy. “Can you cover for us for a few hours?”

Benjy blinked. “I, uh—”

“The correct answer is yes.” He looked at me. “Go put on a pair of boots and something that isn’t a dress. And a hat. Benjy, while she’s changing, I’ll fill you in on what you need to do.”

“Do I get a choice?” I said.

“I thought you wanted to help Greyson.”

“Of course, but—”

“Then put on a pair of boots,” he said. “Now. We don’t have any time to waste.”

I stood on my tiptoes to give Benjy a long, lingering kiss so Knox couldn’t miss it. With one final glare in his direction, I climbed on his desk to reach the vent, making a point of stepping on his embedded monitor and leaving shoe prints behind.

The trip through the underground tunnel was as dark and dank as last time, but now Knox and I hurried. We didn’t talk, and the only sounds we made were our muffled footsteps on the dirt floor.

It was dark outside when we exited into the alleyway, and Knox led me away from the crowded streets. “Where are we going?” I said as we ducked around a trash bin that smelled worse than the sewers.

“We can’t take the main streets,” he said. “Someone might see us.”

I followed him through the winding alleyways, noting each turn in case we got separated. Knox was careful to make sure I was with him, though, and we hadn’t gone more than a mile when we reached a lone metal door. As Knox punched in a nine-digit code, faint music caught my attention. I glanced around the corner, and across the street was the club we’d visited the night I’d caught Knox with the gun.

“In here,” he said, pushing open the door. I followed him into a narrow hallway with only a few bulbs lighting the way. The ceiling was so high that it was obscured by darkness, but I heard a faint rustling above us.

“What is this place?” I said.

He didn’t answer. As we passed underneath a light, I looked up again, hoping to catch sight of whatever was making that noise, but all I saw was the glint of something metal.

At the second light, I tried again. Squinting upward, I could just make out the shape of another metal object, but this one looked like— A rifle.

Blocking the light with my hand, I stopped, giving my eyes a few seconds to adjust. As they did, the silhouette of a man standing against a rail came into focus, and he was pointing his weapon directly at me.

“Knox,” I said. He set his hand on my shoulder to keep me moving forward, but I planted my feet on the floor.

“There’s someone up there.”

“There are a dozen people up there,” he said. “They make sure no one comes in who shouldn’t be here. Now come on. We don’t have much time.”

A dozen, undoubtedly all armed. I was so dizzy I could barely see straight, and Knox guided me forward through the seemingly endless hallway. The urge to turn around and bolt was overwhelming, but even if I did, Knox would catch me, and this was important. This was for Greyson. If they hadn’t shot us yet, chances were they wouldn’t unless I did something stupid. Like run.

Finally we reached the end of the corridor. It was another door, and this time there was a twelve-digit pass- word. Knox punched it in effortlessly, and I purposely looked away, not wanting to risk the wrath of the guards above us.

Once we were inside, the hallway was much wider and brighter than the first. Doors lined the corridor, and when we passed a few that were open, I noticed that there was a bed, desk, and chair inside each room. Individual living quarters.

“Am I allowed to know what this place is now?” I said, but he smiled wanly and pressed on. The floor was concrete and the bedrooms weren’t fancy, but many of them looked lived in. As we passed another open door, however, there was no bed inside. Only rows and rows of weapons, bullets, helmets, and other things I couldn’t name.

We turned the corner, and I stopped when I saw a large common room area with a brightly lit kitchen that reminded me of my group home. A few people lounged on shabby chairs, and they all waved hello to Knox. None of them gave me a second look.

“Colonel Sampson,” said Knox to an official sitting behind a desk. On the screen in front of him was a map I didn’t recognize, but I was sure I’d seen him somewhere before. “Is she still here?”

Sampson stood hastily and saluted. “Yes, sir.”

I stared. The black uniform, the silver lining— My eyes widened. He was the official who’d come to the group home with the Shield to arrest me.

No, not arrest me. They’d wanted to take me to Daxton.

“And no one leaked it?” he said. Sampson shook his head. “Good work, Colonel. Thank you.”

Knox took my arm and led me down another corridor, this one with the doors spread farther apart.

“Am I the only person in D.C. who didn’t know about this place?” I grumbled, and Knox ignored me.

We turned again, and I began to figure out the pattern of the rooms. Even though the corridors were long, we were only walking the length of the building over and over again as the hallway snaked around itself.

“Who’s still here? Celia?” I said, but once again, Knox didn’t answer. Instead he stopped in front of a door that blended in with the others. When he knocked, I held my breath. Would Celia have taken Greyson someplace only a mile from Somerset when the entire country was looking for him?

The door opened a fraction of an inch, and no matter how I craned my neck, I couldn’t see around Knox. “I need to talk to you,” he said.

“I figured as much,” said a soft female voice on the other side. Celia. I narrowed my eyes. “What’s it about this time?”