Jenna Black - Replica

“What do you have in mind?” Gerri asked with a hint of suspicion in her voice, as if she was prepared not to like whatever Nadia suggested.

“When he hit me, Mosely gloated that he could get away with it because no one would believe me if I told. But what if I’d been wearing a recorder of some sort at the time?”

Gerri shook her head. “Even if you could prove he hit you, it wouldn’t be enough. If we go after him, we have to go after him with something that will kill him. Wounding him would be a very, very bad idea.”

Nadia nodded her agreement. “I know. And like you said, we might not be able to do anything about him right now. But what if sometime in the future, he finds himself standing on less firm ground? Even the most powerful people in the world can have their moments. It’s not like no one’s ever had bad things to say about Mosely before.”

“True,” Gerri said slowly, no doubt cataloging in her mind the times Mosely’s behavior had been called into question.

“What if the next time he’s on the defensive about something, we produce recordings of him threatening me? Or worse. Lots of people would give him a pass right now because he’s investigating a case of treason and it’s all so new and fresh. But what about a couple of years down the line?”

“I don’t know, hon,” Gerri said doubtfully. “It would take an awful lot to take him down, and I’m not sure it’s worth the risk. If he should find out you were recording him…”

“How would he ever find out?” Nadia imagined there was a hard glint in her eyes. “He thinks I’m just a frightened little girl who’ll do whatever he tells me to.”

“Maybe so, but still—”

“I want to make him pay. You don’t know what it’s been like, being forced to give in to his demands like this.” Nadia suppressed a shiver and reminded herself for what felt like the thousandth time that no good could come from telling Gerri about the threat to her children. “Maybe if I’m at least trying to get him back, it will make this all more bearable.”

Gerri still looked unconvinced, a line of worry creasing her brow. She wasn’t given to bouts of uncertainty as Nadia was, and Nadia felt briefly bad for putting her in what must have been an awkward position. That didn’t stop her from trying to bolster her own argument.

“Do you think…?” She paused to carefully consider her words before speaking. “Maybe I’m letting him get to me too much, letting my imagination run away with me. But I feel like there’s a chance Mosely could make me mysteriously disappear before this is all over. He knows I’ll never forgive him for the things he’s done, and he also knows I’m destined to be the Chairman Spouse someday. He might find it more convenient if he could stop that from happening.”

For one of the few times in her life, Gerri was speechless, staring at her little sister in horror.

“But if I’m recording him, maybe even transmitting the recordings to a remote location, I might have a little leverage to stop that from happening.” Nadia shivered again. “Or at least make him pay for it after the fact. You would know where the recordings are being stored, and if anything ever happened to me…”

Gerri pulled her into a rib-crushing hug. “Nothing’s going to happen to you,” she said fiercely.

“But—”

“I’ll go shopping first thing in the morning. Paxco doesn’t make anything that would fit the bill, but I’m sure I can find a microtransmitter on the black market that would do the job.” Gerri released her from the hug, but kept her hands on Nadia’s shoulders, fixing her with an intent stare. “Promise me, promise me, that if we do this, you’ll pretend the transmitter isn’t there. Do not go fishing. If Mosely says something incriminating, fine. But don’t try to lead him into it. Don’t take the chance that he might figure out you’re wearing it.”

Perhaps Nadia was giving her sister an inflated opinion of her courage. Much though she wanted to get revenge on Mosely, the idea that she was going to try to record him scared the hell out of her. No way was she going to take any more chances than necessary.

“I promise,” she said simply, and after another soul-searching look, Gerri nodded.

“Okay then. Let’s get back to the party before Mom sends a search party after us.”

Forcing a smile, wondering how she was going to endure an evening of gossip and small talk, Nadia followed her sister out of the apartment.

Natewould have loved to get his trip to the Basement over with early so he could get some sleep, but he had to wait until his household quieted down for the night to reduce the chances of being seen. He kept himself awake by watching a horror movie on the net, but the ads for an upcoming news special were way scarier than the movie. The ad came up on every commercial break, showing Nate cussing out the reporter and shoving the microphone out of his face; worse, some talking head with a PhD was speculating about whether such an outburst from a former media darling meant the Replication process was flawed and had created violent tendencies. He finally quit watching the movie just so he could stop seeing that ad.

At 1:00 A.M., Nate started the laborious process of transforming himself once more into the Ghost. He was already running on fumes, and this was going to be one hell of a long night.

Yawning, Nate checked the various hiding places on his costume to make sure all the dollars Nadia had given him were secure and hidden. His conscience nagged at him for the way he’d treated her this afternoon. Now that Kurt was gone, she was the only true friend he had, and the absolute worst thing he could do was act like an asshole and alienate her. She was as alone as he was, her parents’ love tempered by expectations, her peers’ “friendship” tainted by jealousy and ambition. He and Nadia needed each other, now more than ever, and Nate was determined never to take her for granted again. That she’d stolen money from her parents for him after the way he’d acted showed just how good a friend she was, doing her all to help him find someone everyone but the two of them thought was guilty of murder.

Nate used the same escape route he’d used the night before, starting with the rather terrifying drop through the laundry chute. He had a jolt when he landed in the laundry room and found the lights on, but as far as he could tell, there was no one around. He let out a breath of relief, then made his way cautiously to the service stairs, feeling even more on edge than he had the night before.

He didn’t allow himself to relax until he was driving the purloined motorcycle out of the parking lot, opening up the throttle as much as he dared on the quiet streets. He wanted to put the little Ducati through its paces, maybe give himself a good adrenaline spike to chase away the last of the cobwebs in his head. Maybe he just wanted to remind himself that he was alive, when by all rights, he shouldn’t be. But calling attention to himself wasn’t part of the game plan.

By the time Nate arrived at Angel’s doorstep, it was past two in the morning. Prime time, in Debasement. The club was crowded, wall-to-wall people, and the predators were out full force. One pretty young hooker even tried to pick his pocket, which meant word had already spread that he’d paid the cover charge in dollars. Usually the predators ignored other Basement-dwellers and fixated on the more wealthy and less cautious Executive and Employee patrons. Nate caught the hooker’s wrist, trapping her with two fingers halfway into one of his jacket pockets. She was startlingly young, with tiny breasts barely hidden by her red halter top. Nate felt a twisting sensation in his gut. He’d seen some awfully young girls plying the sex trade at Angel’s club, but this one seemed little more than a child. Which was probably why she’d resorted to picking Nate’s pocket—she wasn’t experienced enough to stick to the lower-risk, higher-reward targets.