Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 83040 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83040 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Fifty-five years. I guess it adds up but what the hell was he talking about. SIO 2.0 is my project and we certainly haven’t been working on it for fifty-five years.
My father didn’t make it very far—he was killed in the field on a job when I was four. By that time, I’d been living at CORE for two years, so I didn’t even miss him. Didn’t miss my mother, either. CORE parents have children for the mission. It’s got nothing to do with family.
I think that’s where it went wrong for Olive.
She wasn’t CORE. She didn’t grow up with our values. She says she’s part of the mission, but those years she missed as part of her CORE training—between the ages of two and eight—those were… critical.
I can see that now.
So can my grandfather.
Soon everyone will see it.
And then… well, the protocols will be adjusted, of course, but as far as Olive goes? She’s done.
I ponder this. Not just the regrettable outcome of something I’ve heavily invested in, but also in the possibility that she might be saved.
She’s out of the program. This is her last SIO mission, that’s unavoidable.
But she’s not useless. Not at all useless, actually.
She might not be Collin Creed’s genetic sister, but that’s just a technicality. Surely, even though Collin knows the truth now, surely he still loves her. And even though I’ve turned off Olive’s feelings for Collin, that was mostly about loyalty. I can manipulate this. There are ways to turn these feelings back on.
The big test for a SIO operative is stress. It’s the only test, actually. The only one that counts. We stress them, and stress them, and stress them. And then we send them into a situation.
And might this scenario playing out here with Shep, in the general vicinity of Collin, be such a situation?
An… opportunity, maybe? To make lemonade, so to speak.
If I end this operation, what would happen if CORE didn’t come in and scoop her up? What would she do?
I smile here, because I know exactly what she would do and it’s a way forward that I can live with.
I love her. I do. We have a very twisted relationship, but my feelings for her are genuine. I don’t know what life looks like without Olive. The idea that we’d fail never entered my mind.
Overconfidence has brought down more than one mission, but everything was going so well.
Still, this new way forward would keep her alive. At least for a few more weeks. And I could talk to a lot of people in a few weeks. My grandfather being one of them. He’s old now, retired. But he’s still got pull. He’s still got power. I could make a deal. Keep her for myself. We could move to the family mansion and even if I had to lock her up in the basement, she’d be alive. She’d be there for me when I got home every night.
We could have a few kids to give to CORE. Surely her bloodline is good enough? Even if it wasn’t, they wouldn’t turn down kids. Every operation needs new recruits. Maybe we could even keep one?
I smile, thinking about that. How bold of us. To raise a child together.
Maybe we could mold it into the perfect operative?
In fact, this is more than a dream, this is a solid plan. I could come up with a whole new protocol for training children from birth.
My mind begins to race with the possibilities. Of course, this has been done before, but it’s been decades. The mothers were the problem. The idea of ‘breeding’ might work for dogs, but women aren’t dogs. They have opinions.
But Olive and I would be both parents and trainers.
Yes. It could work.
I just need to buy myself some time to set it up.
The door rattles, then opens. And then there she is—the love of my life.
“Hey,” she says, her voice soft.
I focus on her lips. Those perfect, plump lips. Then I look her in the eyes and smile. “Hey.”
She shuts the door and walks over to me, stopping a few paces away because she’s unsure about what’s going on. Which is fair. I’ve sent her some weird signals over the past couple of days. “Why did you leave?”
I shrug. “You had it handled. And the waitress was side-eyeing me. I should’ve ordered breakfast, I guess, but only got a coffee. I could tell she wanted the table.”
“Oh.” She lets out a long breath of relief. “That’s all?”
I chuckle. “Were you expecting something more?”
“I just… you were… there. And then you weren’t. It threw me.” She lets out another breath, this one longer than the last. “Do you wanna know what happened? Or were you watching?”
I put the laptop aside, setting it on a small round table next to the chair. “Come here,” I say, patting my lap, inviting her to position herself across it.