“Really?” Marissa asked, shaking her head. “Italian Barbie made that much of an impression?”

I shrugged. “I’m not working for the International Refugee Society anymore, so why the hell not?”

“She’s a psychopathic killer?”

“Maybe it’ll make the Caesar’s day a little more painful before I kill him. Do you want my help or not?”

Marissa looked away. “Fine, but if she makes a move I’m dropping her.”

“If she makes a move, I’ll do it.”

“You’re not the only killer here, G. Just be sure you have your head on straight.”

“I always do.”

Truth be told, I didn’t know why I was going after Lucita, so she was right be concerned. It wasn’t for moral reasons. I was pretty sure, karmically speaking, rescuing a professional assassin from being tortured to death wasn’t going to improve the world. I wasn’t in love with her, we’d known each other a day, and half her actions repulsed me.

Maybe it was because, at the end of the day, I understood her. We were both products of systems designed to create the perfect killer. If I was going to spend the rest of my life trying to untangle myself from the web of lies I’d found myself trapped in, I figured I might as well remove myself from it.

Maybe I just felt guilt. Some Letter I was. They were right to burn me.

I checked the bodies on the ground for any additional weapons before removing my clothes and replacing them with the late Mario’s. The other guard had a balaclava, which I slipped on and hoped would buy me a few seconds’ hesitation from anyone who spotted me moving around the meat processing plant.

I still wasn’t sure about Marissa’s loyalties and didn’t believe for a second she’d done this out of love. Still, I hoped I could trust her enough to get me close to Gordon. I was going to complete my contract, even if the Society no longer wanted my services.

It was the principle of the thing.

“You realize if you rescue her, you’re probably going to have to kill her anyway, right? She knows about your betrayal.”

I shrugged. “We’ll burn that bridge when we cross it… Amanda.”

“Marissa is fine. I’ve lived in it longer than most of my identities. The story I told you on the plane was true, so I have precious little attachment to Amanda’s life.”

“What a good little spy you are.”

Marissa snorted. “Don’t look at me like that, G. How many people have you lied to and destroyed?”

“I don’t expect my victims to like me, either.”

Marissa looked down. “I will do anything to protect my country.”

“I don’t have a country.”

It was strange, but searching my feelings, I couldn’t grasp the intense devotion I’d once felt for her. The love I’d felt, if love it was, had shattered with the revelation that it had been for a woman who’d never really existed.

“You could.”

I was appalled she was still trying to win me over. “Is that the pitch now? Help me, G, and I’ll give you immunity? Protect you from the big bad Society? Set you up with a new life?”

Marissa looked away. “Maybe it is.”

“Don’t make me laugh. I’ve killed more people, powerful people, than three wildly prolific serial killers. Even if I helped you against them, it’d just make me an inconvenience for your employers.”

“The President is a very good friend to have, G. You’d be surprised what she’s willing to overlook in the name of justice.”

I tried not to roll my eyes at her unironic use of the term. “Justice doesn’t exist, only results.”

Finishing dressing, I noticed there was a black plastic body bag by the computer monitors. Taking it, I pushed Mario’s body into it and zipped it up. We didn’t have the time or the location to dispose of the other guard’s form, but this would hopefully contribute to hesitation on the part of the other guards. I didn’t know how many were present in the plant, but hopefully Marissa would provide me with any useful operational intel I needed.

Just like old times.

“Maybe you’ll feel differently when you know who you are.” Marissa checked her cellphone. It was almost midnight.

I paused, remembering the disturbing session with the Memorize. “I’m not sure that I want to know who I was anymore.”

Marissa did a double take. “That bad, huh?”

“You know who I was.” It was more an accusation than a question.

“I also know who you weren’t. We are what we do.”

“Then that makes me even worse.”

Marissa pulled out her gun, a hand-held collapsible A7 pocket pistol. “Suit yourself, G. If you want to wallow in self-pity, that’s your own business. But know what we shared wasn’t just smoke and mirrors. I felt more—”

“Don’t try and work me anymore. I know the playbook. You were different. What we experienced was real. That everything you’ve told me isn’t a lie. Let me preserve my fantasy for as long as possible.”

“Is that so wrong?”

“Yes. The truth shall set me free.”

Marissa looked down. “If you say so.”

Picking up Mario’s body and tossing it over one shoulder, I asked, “How many hostiles are we talking about in the building?”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

“Counting Caesar, there’s seven left. All of them are low-level muscle or new recruits. That doesn’t mean they’re not dangerous, though. The Carnevale had its pick of European and South American Special Forces for its members. He’s got a helicopter prepared outside for his evacuation back to the Palace of Miracles. He thinks the government is going to attack in the morning due to false intelligence I gave him. They’re not. We’ve got a little less than an hour to get there, get Gordon, and get out. That’s basically Lucio’s plan, though he’s going to leave his surviving soldiers to cover up his organization’s destruction.”

“Fun guy.”

“There is no honor among assassins.”

“You would know.”

Adjusting the shoulder strap of the S515 machine gun in front of me, I prepared to turn it on Marissa, depending on her reaction. “You realize I warned the home office about your little plan to attack. They’ve undoubtedly cleaned the place out by now and will probably set up shop someplace you’ll never find them again.”

Marissa’s gun hand twitched and for a second I thought I was going to have to put her down. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

“Maybe I thought they deserved to be warned.”

“They don’t.”

“Did you hate them, that much?”

“You’re a wonderfully charming collection of sociopaths.”

OK, that was a fair cop. Heading to the door, I opened it slightly to check to see if there was anyone outside. The door opened to a staircase leading down to the ground floor of the plant and had an excellent view of several large machines that were running loudly.

A pair of guards was standing at the bottom of the steps, but I doubted they could hear anything from our position. There were security cameras watching the walls, and I saw the security room not too far away. It was separate from the rest of the processing plant. Two more guards were inside it, visible through the window.

Not good.

Closing the door, I shook my head. “Not my preferred method of egress.”

“Do you have a plan?”

“Yeah,” I said, taking a deep breath. “What happens after you take me to Doctor Gordon?”

“I either let you go or you come with me to Fort Meade.”

Fort Meade, Maryland, was the headquarters for the National Security Agency and about the last place on Earth I wanted to go. I’d infiltrated that location once and it had been, easily, the hardest mission of my life. The National Security Agency were code-breakers and data-crunchers, not agents, so Marissa was overstepping her authority by working against the International Refugee Society, but I was hardly in a place to throw stones.

Anger bubbled up within me and I turned back to her with a look of barely concealed outrage. “Why the hell would I want to do that?”

I was getting sick of Marissa feeling like she could just wallpaper over this. She’d saved my life, yes, but I’d been played as a fool, and that was not something I was going to get over. A part of me did want to kill her, shoot her in the chest, or throttle her to death, while the rest of me was horrified at the prospect.

I needed focus right now, and all I could see was red.

Marissa didn’t seem intimidated by my barely concealed rage. Which was impressive. I didn’t get mad often but when I did, I’d been called “like Tom Hardy as Bane.” Looking up at me, she said, “Because I think you’ll have even more questions about what and who you are after your talk with Doctor Gor—”

“Enough with the enigmatic bullshit. Tell me what you know.”

Marissa looked away. “You wouldn’t believe me.”

“Listen here—”

The door started to open. “Hey, what’s the situation? The boss is getting impatient.”

“It’s done, come on in,” I said, muffling my voice a bit.

I dropped the body on the ground and stepped behind the door before letting the two guards in. They reacted with shock at the sight of the second body in the room but I proceeded to shoot both in the back of the head with my machine gun, having set it to a three-round burst that led to their heads getting blown out through their fronts.

“That was your plan?” Marissa asked, looking down at the corpses.

“Close enough.” I shot her a stare. “This conversation is not over.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Picking up the walkie-talkie from one of the fallen guards, I spoke into it. “Yeah, we’ve got quite a mess here, could you send up someone to help?”

“What kind of mess needs four guys?” I heard a brusque voice from what I hoped was the security office downstairs.

“The girl didn’t go quietly,” I replied.

Marissa rolled her eyes.

The guard on the other end grunted. “Ah, Jesus. I’ll be right up.”

Seconds later, another identically dressed guard entered into the room and I grabbed him from behind, holding his neck tightly. He didn’t get a chance to struggle before Marissa put a bullet in his head.

While I was holding him.

“What the fuck?” I said, dropping the body.

“Low caliber bullet.” Marissa shrugged. “I knew it wouldn’t go through.”

I stared at her, started to speak, but threw my hands up and walked out the door with my balaclava up. Heading down to the security station, I encountered no resistance. There was just a simple middle-aged man sitting in front of a number of security screens, oblivious to the situation.

“What’s wrong, Jacob?” he said, not bothering to look up.

I grabbed him by the throat with the base of my submachine gun and used it against my knee to snap his neck. With that, we were down to three remaining guards and the Caesar. I wish I could say I was sick of the bloodshed, but the honest-to-God truth was that I wasn’t.

For all the strange revelations and flashbacks I’d experienced, I hadn’t gained any greater sense of empathy for the world. No, with Marissa I knew there was one simple fact I needed to keep in mind for the future: Don’t let anyone get close again.

It wasn’t worth it.

“Did you find Lucita?” Marissa asked from behind me.

I checked the security feeds and saw both the Caesar hanging around the helicopter outside the processing plant and Lucita held up by her wrists in a meat locker. The later caused my stomach to churn as I saw one guard holding a weapon on her while the second was wearing an apron as he… as he… Jesus, was flaying her.

“Holy shit,” Marissa said, looking down. “Is he doing—”

“Yes,” I interrupted, turning off the monitor. “It seems the Caesar is fond of tough love.”

“This isn’t a time for jokes.”

“Tragedy is when I cut my finger. Comedy is when you fall into an open sewer and die,” I quoted Mel Brooks. “Still upset I want to rescue her?”

Marissa looked away. “Kind of.”

I nodded. “Let’s go.”

Walking to the door, I had my arm grabbed by Marissa. “There’s something you need to know before we do this.”

“I’m not in the mood for games, Marissa.”

“No games.”

I closed my eyes. “Go ahead.”

“I don’t regret any of what I did. I have done a lot worse to people I’ve cared about a lot longer than I did you. I’ve killed men I’ve claimed to love and turned friends over to be taken by the police.”

“Is that all?”

Marissa sighed. “No, no it’s not. I also think you’re capable of being the best at what you do. Someone who could have the potential to re-shape nations and be a force for order in this world.”

“I kill people, Marissa. That’s all I do.”

“Killing people can change the world. Not always for the force.”

“Is that what you tell yourself?”

“The president doesn’t want to destroy the Society. She wants to use it.”

I took a deep breath. “I see. That is distressingly, disappointingly believable.”

“The world is a canvas of blacks. We just choose the one we paint with.”

I took a deep breath. “You don’t want my help to shut the Society down. You want my help getting them to work for you and you alone.”

“We want the Letters, how to make them, and Delphi. We don’t need anyone else.”

“Do you even need the Letters if you know how to make them?”

“No, but it’d be convenient.”

“Gerard and S. If they survive. I don’t care about any of the others.”

“Not Persephone?”

“No.”

“I can make that happen if you’ll help.”

“One step at a time.”

I walked out the door and prepared to get Lucita. I needed to decide whether or not I wanted to become the government’s bitch. Even if I regained my memory, there was no guarantee I would ever be released from their service. With the International Refugee Society, at least, I had only another five years of service left. The United States wasn’t nearly as forgiving. They also didn’t pay as well, and I doubted they gave a shit about their tools.

Even less than my current bosses.

I could take Marissa up on her offer, but that would mean losing whatever chance I had of being something other than a tool. There was another option, though. I could abandon the pursuit of my memories and go to work for myself.

Hawaii.

Dubai.

Mumbai.

Paris.

An assassin for myself.

The thought had an appeal.