I held up Oscar’s body. I could feel a tremor building, reverberating throughout my body. I was shaking with rage. “All this for a couple...pieces of plastic.”

Samuel glanced around. “Not just pieces of plastic. Certainly not. But I take your meaning. It’s all a bit extravagant isn’t it?”

“Don’t bother explaining your plan.” I said. “I don’t need to know how you knew this was going to happen. I honestly don’t give a shit.”

One of Samuel’s eyebrows shot up. “Really? You’re not even a little curious?”

I pulled Oscar close, holding him against me. In a way, it was still hard to imagine that all of this was actually happening. It felt like I was making a conscious effort just to hold onto the moment. Onto my own lucidity.

“What’s the point of all this?” I said, barely realizing I was doing so.

“What people get wrong about ‘conspiracies’,” Samuel said, stepping over the body of an officer, “Is that there’s this single, grand, definite plan. ‘The Plan’. Which is absurd, of course. There’s no ‘Plan’.”

He paused, for emphasis, before continuing.

“There are ‘Plans’, Kit. Hundreds of them. More than I can keep track of. Plans within plans. Backups within backups. This was just one of the situations for which we had anticipated a favorable outcome. These may be the first of the government’s Darts we manage to acquire, but they won’t be the last. Especially once our RnD department gets a hold of them. Speaking of,” He held out his hand. “The Darts?”

I had one of the Darts. The other one was still wrapped around Oscar’s neck.

I looked at Samuel’s outstretched hand, then back up at his face. “What’s the backup if I don’t hand them over?”

Samuel didn’t answer. His body was a statue, hand still outstretched.

“You know,” I said, “We’re not all that different, you and I. Pieces in someone else’s game. You don’t even know why you’re supposed to keep me alive.”

Samuel’s expression went sour. He withdrew his hand. “We’re taking you in alive because you’re going to work for us, now. And you know why.”

He pulled a smartphone out of his pocket. He made a couple taps, then held it up so I could see the screen. Though I didn’t need to. I already knew what it would be.

It was a livestream of the inside of a bare, concrete room. Someone was sitting on the floor, back against the wall. She had long, dark, matted hair. It was Jackie.

Seemingly satisfied by whatever reaction I was giving off, Samuel put the phone away.

“Now, let’s stop wasting time. You’re going to hand over the Darts. You’re going to hand over yourself. You and your friends are coming with us.”

I didn’t move. I stood my ground, mulling it over. Everything was down to the wire, now. If there was another move to play, now was the time. Though such a possibility seemed slimmer by the second.

Stolen novel; please report.

Such a poor deal. Trading three lives for the one. And what kind of a life would it be, for Jackie? It wasn’t clear.

Still, I could feel the compulsion to do it. That weight, hanging from my neck, like a hundred-pound Dart.

I could fix things. Make them right, finally.

An ironic sentiment considering I was holding the broken remains of my best friend. A ridiculous one. But surely there was some truth to it.

A shaky semblance of a plan began to form in my head. Jigsaw pieces that, while from the wrong puzzle, just might fit.

It was a chance more than a plan, if I was honest with myself. But it was something.

“What happens to Jackie? If I cooperate?” I said.

“She lives.” Samuel said. “Obviously. If you don’t, she dies.”

“You’ll release her?” I said.

Samuel nodded, after a half-second of hesitation. “That was our deal, wasn’t it?”

“Should I believe it?”

“Believe this.” Samuel said. “Say no, and she’s dead. I’ll let you watch.”

I suddenly felt tired. So tired. And not just because I was holding a dead man in my arms. Though I could have sworn I could feel Oscar’s body growing more rigid by the minute, harder to hold.

The jig was up. This whole time I’d been running from my past, some part of me thinking I could stay ahead of it. But that long chain snaking out of the darkness in my dream—in a way, it was real. It was taut, suspended in the air. I was attached to it. All that motion and effort, only to be running in place.

I crouched down, carefully setting Oscar on the ground. For a moment, I pressed my face against his.

“Goodbye.” I whispered in his ear.

I ran my fingers over his face, closing his eyelids. I gripped the Black Dart hanging from his neck and pulled, snapping the cord.

I stood. “You don’t want to shoot me. You’d risk damaging the Darts.” I didn’t have to be able to see past the floodlights to know that there were gunmen there, trained on me.

“But I will.” Samuel said.

“But you don’t want to.” I let that hang for a second. Then, “I’ll come with you, Sam. But it’s just going to be me. Leave my friends out of it.”

Samuel shrugged. “They were secondary, anyway. You’re the one they want.”

I was somewhat surprised at this. But then I glanced at the stubs on Samuel’s hand, where two fingers used to be. His employers didn’t tolerate failure. Any option that would make things run smoother, allow him to hedge his bets, he would take. Short of letting me get away with the Darts, that is. That wasn’t on the table. Even hitting me with some kind of tranquilizer would give me a window of time where I might find a way to break the Darts, or stumble, perhaps damaging them that way. Not to mention how much easier it is to kidnap and transport a willing participant.

Samuel motioned, signaling to one of the gunmen behind the floodlights to approach.

“Wait.” I said.

Samuel held up a hand.

“Call an ambulance first. My friends are in the back of the Humvee.”

Samuel nodded and snapped his fingers.

Someone holding a rifle jogged out from behind the floodlights and handed Samuel a little flip phone. He opened it and dialled three numbers. He looked directly at me as he spoke to the operator. The call lasted a couple of minutes. Once the essential information was relayed, he snapped the phone shut and tossed it over to the rifleman, who caught it and put it in his jacket pocket.

“Alright.” Samuel said. “It’s time.

“I have your word my friends aren’t coming?”

“There’s no time for that, anyway.” Samuel said, just as the floodlights shut off, plunging us in darkness, save for a few flashlight beams in the woods, as well as the light attached to the gunman’s rifle, trained on me. “We have minutes before that ambulance arrives. We’re not clambering over this wreckage to get to your Bannerets. Not today. And before you ask, Jackie’s being released as we speak. The order was already given. She won’t be any use to us anyway, once we’re through with you.” He took a step closer. “You were always going to give yourself up, Kit. You might say it was...in the stars.”

Somehow, I believed him. I exhaled, feeling a knot of tension release itself in my chest.

I’d done what I could. Jackie would be released, if Samuel held up his end of the deal. At the very least, I’d bought Tanya and Sater some time. I’d—

As the henchman with the light on his rifle stepped close, his arm whipped toward me, and I felt a prick in the side of my neck. Spots of oblivion infringed on my vision, black holes expanding in the already overwhelming dark.