“Here’s the thing, Susan—it isn’t that I believe in CommTECH so much, it’s more that I just don’t agree with murdering people to get what you want. So, I’d rather not be a party to your cause.”
“You do understand how ironic that is, right?” Susan smirked. “Considering that you’ve been the face of a company that kills to get what it wants every single day.”
“Prove it,” Keiko challenged. “Because the only murderers I see are the ones standing in front of me, claiming they’re fighting for a higher cause.”
The Freedom leader’s eyes narrowed on her, and it occurred to Keiko that she probably shouldn’t challenge the woman. It was a sure way to die sooner rather than later. Her eyes flickered to Abigail’s body again. That would be her if she didn’t comply. Was her life worth standing on principle? Was Abigail’s life worth so little that Keiko would give in to the terrorists’ demands just to avoid death? What would Mace do if he were in her shoes? He wouldn’t play along to live an hour, a day, a lifetime more. He’d stand on his honor and resist. He’d demand to wear the damn band and then look for another way to escape death.
The thought gave her strength. If she was going to die, she wasn’t going to do it cowering before a madwoman. She was going to do it with the same sort of honor and dignity Mace would show. She straightened her shoulders and reached over to take the EMP band from Susan’s hands. While the Freedom leader stood in stunned silence, Keiko fastened the band around her own forehead.
“I’ll be on the stage with Rueben.” She took a step toward the scientist.
Susan’s hand shot out to curl around her arm and stop her. “Are you sure you want to die today?”
“No. But I don’t want to live with the knowledge I helped you, either.”
The leader dropped Keiko’s arm in disgust as a vicious glint filled her eyes. “Put her beside Abigail’s body. That will make a good visual for the cameras.”
As someone took her arm, Keiko worked on breathing evenly. The body wasn’t Abigail. Not anymore. Her friend was gone. All that was left was a shell. Nothing could hurt Abigail now. And Keiko wouldn’t give anyone the satisfaction of seeing Abigail’s death used to upset her, to make her cry for the cameras. No, she wouldn’t let her friend be used that way. Even in death.
Ignoring her roiling stomach and holding her head high, she walked up the steps to the exact place she’d started in hours earlier.
“Please kneel,” the polite man who’d delivered her to the terrace said softly, and she fell to her knees. There was no point in hesitating now that she’d chosen her course.
Her eyes found Abigail, and her soul wailed silently. Later, she promised herself. She’d grieve later.
The polite freedom fighter stepped behind her, took her hands, and fastened her wrists together. “I find that I am actually quite sorry to put you in this position, Ms. Sato,” he said softly. “You aren’t at all what I expected.”
“And yet, you’re still doing what your power-hungry leader orders,” she felt the need to point out.
“I’ve chosen my course, just as you have.”
Keiko looked out at the crowd of reporters. Most of them smiled at her, encouraging her while they cried. She gave them a small smile in return, letting them know they were all in this together.
And then, she turned her head and gave her attention and respect to Abigail. To the friend she’d loved. If it was the last thing she did, she would make sure that the world didn’t see Abigail as a victim of Freedom’s cause.
“You know,” she said in a voice loud enough to carry and for everyone to hear, “Abigail Dawson was a child genius. A prodigy. She could do things with nanotech before she turned ten that most scientists can’t do when they’re adults.” She smiled as she remembered Abigail explaining all about a new piece of tech she’d developed. Keiko had been lost after the first five minutes but had loved watching her friend’s childlike enthusiasm.
“Her mother was born blind.” Keiko kept talking and intended to do so until someone shut her up. She was doing it for Abigail. Who deserved more of an epitaph than the one Freedom had given her. “Abigail was designing a nanobot that could repair the eye from within. It’d been attempted in the past, but the risk of the nanos causing more damage than good was deemed too high to continue the research. Abigail thought she’d cracked the problem, and she negotiated with CommTECH to keep the tech at an affordable price for all. She’d even planned clinics where people could receive treatment for free. She was going to change the world with her intelligence and compassion.”
Keiko searched the crowd and found Susan’s angry gaze. “She had two kittens that she doted on. And although she was painfully shy, she had many friends. I was one of them. I loved that woman and counted myself blessed to know her. Tell me, Susan, how did killing Abigail Dawson further your cause? How did it help Freedom? Why don’t you go on air and explain to the people who would have benefited from her breakthrough, who would have had their eyesight restored, that Abigail’s death was for their good?”
Susan caught the eye of Keiko’s captor. “Gag her.”
The polite man who’d told her all about his suffering at the hands of CommTECH hesitated.
“It’s okay,” she told him. “Do what she tells you. After all, what you’ve lost is more important than anything Abigail lost or anything she would have done if she’d lived. Your wife, your job, your home. They’re worth Abigail’s life. They’re worth my life. Aren’t they?”
He couldn’t look her in the eye when he placed a silencer over her lips. Keiko raised her chin and stared out over the crowd. She’d done what she’d meant to do. She’d told the reporters that Abigail was valued. That she wasn’t just a victim of a terrorist attack. She’d been needed. And she’d been loved. And now, she was lost.
Keiko knew if they got out of this alive, the reporters would tell Abigail’s story, and she wouldn’t be lost forever. It was all Keiko could do, and she wished she could have done it for the other scientists lying dead on the platform. Abigail’s epitaph would have to be enough for all of them.
As she looked up into the night sky, Mace’s bat fluttered overhead, staying as close as it could to her without drawing attention to itself. Watching over her. Keiko wished she could communicate with the creature by thought the way Mace could, because she would tell it to pass on a message to his human half.
She would tell Mace not to come for her. To save himself instead. Because she was as good as dead, and she didn’t want to take him down with her. Not him. Not her Viking. The world needed him far more than it needed her. Now that she knew him, she knew he was far too precious to lose. The world needed a warrior to keep it on the right track. It needed a man of honor.
It needed Mace.
Chapter Thirty-Five