Fletcher nervously tapped his foot as he sat in the truck.

  Dart, the [Shade] from Addy’s team was next to him. As was West, a mostly [Dragonist] Mixhuman. Addy was across from him, and then they had another full-blooded [Orc] with them. Everyone except for him either was an Unhuman or could pass for one. It was all part of selling the story.

  “Relax, Fletcher. This is the easy part,” Addy said to him with a gentle smile.

  “Easy for you to say,” he muttered.

  The vehicle stopped.

  “That’s us,” West said.

  He climbed out first, followed by the [Orc]—Private Gi’fta, and then Fletcher, Dart, and finally Addy.

  “Dart, you and Gi’fta take him out. The path we outlined,” Addy said.

  “Yes, ma’am. Come with me, sir,” Dart said.

  Fletcher followed the shadow man as the female [Orc] took up the rear. They both had weapons, but Fletcher wasn’t given anything more than a survival knife. He thought it was strange that they wanted him unarmed, but Cardoso claimed it sold the story better.

  They walked for over a mile in the trees. They were Earth trees, the kind Fletcher was used to with brown bark and green leaves. Spring was in full swing here on the North American continent, and Fletcher enjoyed the taste of his childhood he felt with being among the familiar foliage.

  Dart motioned them to a stop as they heard sound from up ahead.

  Jeez, that was fast. But he knew it had to be fast. That was the whole point of this.

  “Ready?” Dart asked.

  Fletcher nodded.

  “Good. Then let’s move. They should have found the trail from Lieutenant Baltic already. We just have to give them a good opening to snatch you,” Dart said. He stepped forward, and Fletcher stayed close. His heart pounded in his chest.

  They stepped out of the forest and into an open clearing. Dart kept moving despite the somewhat obvious signs of being tracked from the other trees. Gi’fta stayed close to Fletcher, one hand on his shoulder.

  And then the quiet forest exploded.

  Bullets shot out. Dart ducked away, and Gi’fta dropped down. They’re only goal was to avoid getting shot since the Humans were supposed to get a hold of Fletcher.

  Fletcher tried to act worried and flustered—which was somewhat easy given how nervous he was—and he sprinted off into the trees, leaving the two guards behind. Hopefully the Humans would focus on him so Dart and Gi’fta could safely get away.

  He made it no more than a couple of steps into the forest coverage when someone appeared from behind a bush and bashed his stomach.

  Fletcher dropped to the ground with a noiseless gasp as the air left his system. His instincts wanted him to fight, but he couldn’t. He had to let them take him, and he couldn’t make it too difficult either since he was supposed to just be a source of information, not a soldier.

  Several people grabbed him, forcing his hands behind his back and tying his wrists together. He grunted as he was roughly yanked to his feet and forced to run. With other people dragging him along, he was constantly tripping over roots and rocks, but his captors showed no mercy.

  Eventually their jog through the forest was through, and he was shoved into a jeep between the armed guards. The engine rumbled to life, and the people around him were quiet. The air was stuffy with the sweaty soldiers next to him, but he resigned to accept his fate, using the time to go back over all the information he needed to give the Humans. He really hoped it worked. Especially the escape part of the plan.

  The vehicle came to a stop, and Fletcher was dragged out of it and up a ramp into a small airplane where they strapped him into a seat. A few minutes later, they took off, and he stomach dropped during takeoff.

  A plane? In use by the Humans? That was technically against the Second Treaty, but he supposed this one was small enough to go unnoticed by the Unhumans. It wasn’t like either side was all that great at truly honoring the Treaty that ended the Second War.

  They flew for a long while, and Fletcher’s hands were going numb from being tied together behind his back while he was forced to sit against them. He glanced around at the soldiers, but they whispered together, far from earshot. And he was no good at reading lips. He was tempted to try [Read Thoughts], but he decided against it when he considered that he wasn’t all that good at it and he couldn’t afford to reveal that he had that [Skill], even to the Humans.

  It was at least several hours that he was stuck like that, and he bounced his legs quite a bit to distract himself from the overwhelming need to pee.

  At last the plane landed, and once more Fletcher was hauled to his feet and taken off the aircraft. It was evening outside, and they were in some type of humid jungle. The tall towers of a Human colony could be seen in the distance, but there weren’t enough details for Fletcher to pick out exactly where he was before he was dragged into the military facility. As part of the Second Treaty, all Human military installations had to be built above ground and within the boundaries of established colonies, so it wasn’t all that surprising to see civilian structures in the distance.

  Plenty of hallways and stairs later, the guards pushed him into a small holding cell. They set his wrists free, and he set to rubbing them as he examined his new surroundings.

  “Arms out,” the Human woman next to him commanded.

  Fletcher compiled mainly because he wasn’t in the mood to keep getting manhandled.

  The two guards gave him a thorough pat down, and then he was shoved further into the room. Neither said anything as they left the room, the lock on the door clicking behind them.

  Fletcher took a breath and sat on the hard cot provided to him. There was a toilet at least, so he took his chance to relieve himself. Other than that, there was not much to the small cell.

  He had no idea how long he was going to be held until the interrogation. And he was not looking forward to what might be a very long wait. He continued to go over the information he was supposed to give the Humans in his head, ensuring he had every detail right. But at the same time, he couldn’t be too precise since they would be suspicious if his answers sounded overly memorized. And he couldn’t even give in right away.

  Cardoso assured him that the Humans wouldn’t stoop to torture, but he didn’t share her faith given what they’d threatened him with back when he worked in Bren’it’p. Not to mention they attempted to kill his dad just to get at him. The only silver lining was that if they did jump into torture, he was free to give them information since the information he had would only help the Mixed and harm both the Humans and Unhumans.

  Fletcher rubbed his hands together. He prayed it didn’t come to that. Let Cardoso be right.

  As it worked out, Fletcher did have a long wait in that cell. He didn’t have a good sense of what time it was, but when he got tired, he allowed himself to sleep. No food was provided, but he was able to drink from the small sink.

  When he woke up, he was still alone in the cell with nothing else going on. After his morning pee, he was washing his hands when the lock clicked. He quickly flicked his hands and rubbed them on his pants to get them dry as Captain Monroe entered the room alongside two other Humans soldiers.

  “Mr. Anders. You look well for a dead man,” she said.

  “Captain. Always a displeasure to see you again.” He smiled.

  “Hands out.” She held out a pair of handcuffs.

  Fletcher frowned. “No, thanks. I’ve never been a fan of jewelry.”

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  She chuckled and motioned to the guards.

  The soldiers approached Fletcher and the first one threw his fist into his stomach. From there, they easily forced his hands in front of him so Monroe could click the handcuffs on.

  “Joys of being a traitor, Anders. You get the rights of an Unhuman, not a Human,” she whispered. “I’ve been waiting for an opportunity like this.”

  He glared at her as the guards took hold of his arms and hauled him from the room with Monroe at their head.

  They walked through a standard military base, though unlike the Mixed, all the soldiers were completely Human, something Fletcher hadn’t experienced in nearly a year and a half. The stares made him very aware of the fact that they could all tell he wasn’t one of them. Curse those red eyes that he could never be rid of.

  They took several flights of stairs up, and then they arrived at the official interrogation room.

  Surprisingly, it wasn’t the most sterile interrogation room Fletcher had been in his life. The floor was carpet and the chair didn’t look quite as terribly uncomfortable as he expected.

  The guards forced him into the chair and undid the cuffs, opting to zip tie his wrists to the arm of the chair instead. Monroe stayed nearby, smirking at him as the guards went to stand by the door.

  “We have some questions for you, Mr. Anders,” she said.

  “I probably don’t have answers,” he responded.

  “Not yet.” Her smile widened.

  That definitely made it seem like torture was on the table. Deities, that sucked. Couldn’t he get a break just one time?

  “At what point did the Unhumans petition you about joining them?” Monroe asked.

  He made a confused face. “I’m dead. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “What promises did they make you to get you to join them?”

  “Good food,” he blatantly lied.

  “You’re not funny.” Monroe glared at him.

  “I can think of at least two people who disagree with you.”

  “Where is your father now, Fletcher?” she questioned.

  He shrugged. “Shouldn’t you know the answer to that? He’s a Human after all. It doesn’t look good that you guys keep losing track of your citizens.”

  “Keep playing tough. See where it gets you,” she said.

  “Hopefully some food.”

  Monroe shook her head and walked to the opposite side of the room. She spoke quietly in her radio while Fletcher tapped his fingers against the arms of the chair. This was actually going pretty well. At some point they’d start making threats or maybe hurt him a little, and then he could play wimp and give in, handing them all the information they thought they wanted. Then, it was a simple matter of using [Frenzy] to bust out and meet up with the rescue team.

  A few minutes later, the door opened and General Taki walked in. He wore a disappointed look on his grandfatherly face.

  “Hello, Mr. Anders. I didn’t think I’d be seeing you again,” he said, coming closer to Fletcher.

  “I felt the same, General. What can I do for you?” Fletcher offered a tight smile.

  “You could answer our questions,” the general said.

  Fletcher made a face. “Is there anything else I can do? Maybe something a little less traitorous?”

  He cocked his head to the side. “What did the Unhumans do to warrant such loyalty? Loyalty you couldn’t even show your own kind…”

  “It’s a long story. One that you probably wouldn’t like,” Fletcher said.

  “I have time.”

  “It’s just how things worked out.” He shifted in his chair. He wanted them to ask the important questions so he could be done. This was stressful. He didn’t like playing this game.

  Taki bent down so he was eye level with Fletcher. He reached out and touched just under one of his eyes. “Did you receive this willingly?”

  “Yes,” he lied.

  “I don’t believe you. And I don’t believe you’re as loyal to the Unhumans as you’re acting. They left you behind, my dear boy. They couldn’t care less about you.” Taki gave him a soft look. “But there is still hope for you.”

  “I don’t belong anywhere. I’m Hexed. It’s not like I can live among the Humans. Don’t make promises you can’t possibly hope to keep,” Fletcher spat at him.

  “You don’t know half as much as you think.” Taki stood back up. “Would the promise of protection and a home persuade you? Are you such a simple creature?”

  “Depends on how big the home is. I have fancy tastes.” Fletcher gave him a hard stare.

  “What was your role with the Unhumans?” Taki motioned to Monroe who brought a chair over.

  “I was the chief education administrator in the city of Bren’it’p,” he said.

  “And then after your… accident?” Taki sat down in the provided chair.

  “I took on a… different position.”

  “Doing?”

  Fletcher shook his head. “I’m afraid that’s classified.”

  “You do enjoying making things as difficult as possible, don’t you?” Taki sighed and motioned to Monroe once more. “Captain, if you would.”

  “With pleasure, General.” She walked up to Fletcher and pressed something into his neck.

  He gasped and jerked as the taser crackled to life, sending jolts of pain across his body. It lasted only a few seconds, and then the pain released him.

  Fletcher struggled to catch his breath as Monroe pulled the taser back.

  “What did you do with the Unhumans, Fletcher?” Taki asked once more.

  He silently glared at the man, still breathing hard.

  “Monroe,” Taki said with a sigh.

  “Wait,” Fletcher said before she could taze him again. “I worked in information, that’s all. They wanted to understand more about Humans and culture and some science and technology. It wasn’t anything serious.”

  “What kind of information did you give them?”

  “Nothing important. It’s not like I had anything important to give them,” he said.

  “The full story,” Taki said. “About all of this.”

  Fletcher gave the fake version of events that Cardoso drilled him on days earlier. He talked about accidentally getting Hexed and then the Unhumans deciding to cover it up so they could keep him around for information. His choice was to be taken away and locked up or join them and give them what they wanted.

  Taki nodded. “I see. And what information did they give you?”

  “What do you mean?” Fletcher asked, still working very hard to play his part.

  “I think you know more than you’re letting on.”

  “Ask something more specific then!” he exclaimed.

  “What were the Unhumans doing on the Earth side of the planet?” Taki said.

  Fletcher hesitated. He couldn’t be too eager to give them information. He had to keep playing his role.

  Monroe tased him before he had time to react, and it hurt a lot more the second time. The seconds felt like an eternity until at last she pulled it off.

  “What was the point of the patrol?” Taki asked once more.

  “To… gather information on the Human defenses,” Fletcher said. “They’re concerned about you striking against them. Or something.”

  Taki asked more questions. Fletcher gave him more answers. Eventually Fletcher gave all the information he was supposed to hand off. The task was complete.

  “Good, You’ve answered almost everything. One more question.” Taki glanced up at him.

  Fletcher heaved. “Fine.”

  “What is the Diplomacy Initiative?”

  He stared in surprise at Taki. “The what?” So now the Humans knew about it too? How was he the last to hear about the program he was supposedly a key part of?

  “Don’t play dumb with me, Fletcher. I know it’s a classified program the Unhumans started up which targets Humans. What does it really do?” Taki asked.

  “I don’t know.” Fletcher hadn’t been given any answers to that question himself. And Cardoso hadn’t prepared him anything for it. “I really don’t.”

  Monroe tased him, and he sputtered for air.

  “The Diplomacy Initiative,” Taki reminded him.

  “It’s a program to befriend more Humans,” Fletcher lied. That sounded believable enough.

  More tasing.

  “I gave you your answer,” Fletcher heaved. Maybe it was time to call it quits. He could just bust out with [Frenzy] and be done with it all.

  “It’s a shame. You were doing so well.” Taki stood up. “I suppose we’ll have to go Secretary Walen’s way now.”

  That interested Fletcher enough that he stayed for a moment longer. If Secretary Walen was around, there might be too much security for him to have as clean of an escape as he was hoping for. His goal was to finish the interrogation and then break out on his way back to his cell. That would be the easiest way out of this.

  The guards left the room for a moment and then Secretary Walen entered, but not alone.

  With him came Javier Ortega, the man Fletcher considered a brother.

  Well, that complicated matters.

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