James removed his shoes and placed them in the bin next to his phone. He stepped into line for the scanner and glanced over. Rocky was in the adjacent line, a few people behind. He smiled at James and gave a low thumbs-up. But James still felt disquieted.
You’re being paranoid, he told himself. They were through the biggest obstacle. Now they just had to go through the scanner. As long as they weren’t carrying weapons, they would go through without a hitch. They were in the clear.
By the time James was next in line to be scanned, he managed to calm himself down. He even felt a bit of relief. They’d done it. Next stop: Nepal.
He stepped into the scanner, holding his hands above his head as the giant mechanical arm rose and fell in front of him.
“Step out,” the woman on the other side said. When he obliged, she held up her hand, looking at a screen to the side. “Wait.”
James had gone through this before. It took a split second as the scanner that supposedly saw them naked checked for hidden objects. Then they were told to go...
“Please step to the side,” the woman said, pointing with her blue hand to where another TSA agent held a wand.
James complied, not letting himself feel worried. It was just a precaution. Maybe the button on his pants had set the scanner off.
The second TSA agent, a burly middle-aged man, waved a wand up and down his body. He stopped at James’s beltline, and the wand turned red.
“Please lift your shirt,” the TSA agent said, and James did. There was nothing there, not even a belt, but still, the wand beeped angrily.
“Have you had any surgery there?” the agent said.
“No,” James said. This was fine. This was normal. Just a misunderstanding.
“Please come with me.” The agent placed his blue-gloved hand on James’s arm. Not hard. But firm. He led James out of the line, steering him toward a door in the wall. Completely normal. Nothing was wrong.
Then James saw Rocky being led out of line by another large TSA agent.
He tried turning, out of instinct, to step away from the man, but the hand on his arm was suddenly vise-like, digging painfully into his shoulder. The man dragged him toward the door in the wall, and there was nothing he could do about it.
They went through the door and into a white, clinical-looking room. Several other doors lined the wall. He was led to the nearest one. When it was opened, all he saw was white light. He squinted as he was pushed into the whiteness, thinking of Katie and her words of warning.
Chapter 12
James squinted and held up his hand to block the light. It took several seconds for his eyes to adjust and for the room to reveal itself.
It looked like a stereotypical interrogation room—plain walls, a table in the middle, and even a large wall-sized mirror, which James assumed was one-way. The blinding light came from a lamp on the table, turned up so the bulb pointed directly at him. The vague outline of a person sat beyond.
The figure reached up and turned the lamp down. James blinked away the white spots in his vision, revealing a man sitting at the table. He was tall and very plain-looking, with a clean-shaven face, sharp chin, and bald head above close-set, hawkish eyebrows. He held a confident, cool air of authority.
“Please take a seat, Mr. Bolt,” the man said, indicating the chair across from him. His voice was strangely high-pitched and so cold it almost made James shiver.
James dropped into the seat, crossing his arms before him. He knew he was in trouble, but he wasn’t going to make it easy for these people. Like Rocky once said when they were both sent to the principal’s office for cheating on a test, Deny till you die.
“It has been an... eventful few days trying to track you down,” the man said. “It’s almost like you were avoiding us.”
James said nothing. He stared at the man, trying to look defiant.
The man raised his hands, a smile playing at his lips. They were unnaturally red, James noticed. The color of blood.
“Of course, of course,” the man said. “Where are my manners? My name is Mr. Roche. My men and I, we’re not here to hurt you. We want the same thing as you. We want to find the Supers and bring them home.”
“Is that why your men shot at us? Because you’re not here to hurt us?” James said.
Anger flashed in Roche’s gray eyes, but a split second later, he regained his composure. “That was a... regrettable reaction. Rest assured, the agent responsible has been dealt with accordingly.”
Probably given a promotion, James thought. Another thought suddenly came to him. “Where’s my mom? Do you have her?”
Roche tried to appear sympathetic but utterly failed. “Of course, you’re probably worried. She was brought in for questioning, but it was deemed that she had no information. She is back home and safe.”
James’s shoulders sagged in relief. He felt bad, thinking of her at home, not knowing where either of her sons had gone. But it was safer that way.
“See?” Roche continued. “The SIA is not unreasonable. All we want is information.”
“I don’t have any. I don’t know where the Supers are. Can I go now?”
Roche smiled again. “Unfortunately, I’m not inclined to believe you. I don’t think you and your friend were planning on flying to Nepal for vacation. Now, please tell me what you know.”
“I told you, I don’t know anything,” James said. Deny till you die.
Roche sighed and leaned forward, placing his hands on the table. “This isn’t a negotiation, Mr. Bolt. As the brother of a Super, you have bargaining power. We can’t hurt you. But your friend—Rocky, is it?—he’s... expendable.”
James’s stomach dropped and his grip on the table tightened.
Roche smiled. “See? But don’t worry, there’s no
