Crossing the Line (31 page)

There was some shuffling and some grunting and the tower started to move ever so slightly. I heard the tape begin to peel away from the box. I started breathing harder, trying to fight off hyperventilation. In all my years at KATO, I'd never had a panic attack, but the prospect of going back like this was enough to finally break me.

And then the movement stopped. I didn't have to look up to know the tape was barely hanging on. Then another voice said, “Don't waste the strength. It's just another box.”

But the person next to us who had done the pushing didn't walk
away. I heard the floorboards creak as he shifted his weight.

“Come on,” a voice said from the front. “We've got other cars.”

The guy next to us moved reluctantly to the front of the car, and the rest of the soldiers filed out, but I still didn't move. I knew the soldier who had been next to us wasn't ready to write off this car. He could still be out there. Travis must have had the same thoughts because he hadn't so much as flinched.

The train door closed and I was still afraid to do anything that might give myself away.

Sam's voice was in our ears. “The People's Military just radioed in. You guys are clear.”

The train started moving and relief spread through me so quickly and intensely I was too overwhelmed to move. I felt Travis relax around me and start to rub my back again. He took his arm off my hair to answer Sam, and my head felt cold.

“Copy that,” Travis said.

I couldn't process the reality. Travis nudged me gently, trying to get me to straighten up, but I couldn't. His mouth dropped to my ear. “Hey.” His voice was soft enough to shatter me. “You're okay.”

A sob I'd been holding in for years wrenched itself out. Travis shifted, keeping his right hand on my back, and sliding his left arm under me, pulling me closer and up into his chest. His one arm held me tight around the waist while the other ran the length of my back, surrounding me and grounding me. I gripped his forearm with so much force that it hurt to hold on, but it felt like I would die if I let go.

Travis didn't say anything. He anchored me while I let out years of built-up fear and tension, until I was incapable of making a sound.

O
nce we got near Fushun, we had to jump out of the train and sprint to a field to meet the extraction team. We had to get out of China fast, so the IDA sent a V22-Osprey, which has the ability to fly like a plane, but take off fast like a helicopter. We flew to Germany, where we were then transferred to a plane, and finally had access to a medical team. They tried to give me painkillers, but Travis stepped in and made sure they didn't. I lay down flat on my back. Now that I could finally relax, the pain in my shoulder was getting worse. Travis sat nearby, which I suspected was to make sure I didn't do any more damage to myself. Nikki was sitting with Cody on the other side of the plane. His “scratch” was more of a head gash. From what I could gather he also had a concussion.

I was surprised Rachel wasn't with him. Then I was even more surprised when she showed up next to me with a black bag in her hand. Travis leaned toward me, listening in.

“I—I heard your usual medical care involves acupuncture,” she said. “Is that right?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Why?”

She sat down on the edge of the bench. “Because I might be able to help with the pain.” She opened the bag and started taking out some supplies.

“You know acupuncture?” Travis asked.

Rachel nodded. “One of my foster parents—one of the ones that I liked—taught me the basics. This is all the stuff they had on the plane. It may not do much, but I might be able to help.”

I nodded, feeling desperate for relief.

She got to work, peeling back the bandages and putting some needles around my wound. “Why are you doing this?” I asked.

She stayed focused on her work so she wouldn't have to look me in the eye. “The comms stayed open after the train was cleared.” She didn't have to say any more. My stomach dropped. They had all heard my breakdown. “I don't forgive you,” she said. “But I have an idea what it's like to feel that way.”

I couldn't completely explain it, but an understanding seemed to pass between us. I hadn't expected anyone to get that feeling, least of all her.

“Sit like that for a while,” she said.

I let my guard down and let everything I was feeling fall away. It seemed like it was only a minute later when Rachel was back pulling the needles out of me. I sat up when she was done, and noticed the pain had shifted to a manageable level.

“We're not friends,” she said. She packed up the supplies and started to walk away.

“Thank you,” I said.

She turned back for half a moment and gave me a small nod.

Travis slid a little closer. “Did that help?”

“Yeah,” I said, still a little shocked by Rachel. “I still feel it, but I can handle it better.”

“That's good,” he said.

“Listen—” I hesitated. I needed to tell him what I found out in KATO, but I didn't know how to broach the subject of Eliza without bringing up Dr. Foster's death. “I found something before we left KATO—”

Travis shook his head. “We can talk about it later.”

“Travis, I think—”

“I mean it,” he said. “It's been a long few days for all of us. Let your mind rest.”

“But—”

He smirked. “Let
my
mind rest.
Please.
” Suddenly he looked more worn-out than I had realized. His eyes were surrounded by dark circles and he gave me a weary look.

I sighed and sunk into the seat. “Okay. Sure.”

“Thank you,” he said, leaning back and closing his eyes. But there was one more thing I needed him to know.

“I'm sorry I lost it like that,” I said. His eyes snapped open. “I didn't mean to—especially on a mission. I didn't mean to let you down.”

He shook his head. “Don't do that. You didn't let me down, you let me in. And I have
never
been more proud of a partner.” I blinked a few times, completely stunned. He smiled and patted my knee. “Seriously. Cut yourself a break and get some rest.”

I looked around the plane. The others had already fallen asleep, and I knew Travis wasn't far behind them. I tried to relax, letting what Travis said play over in my mind. It wasn't long before my eyes shut like everyone else's.

 • • • 

When I woke up I was in the medical wing at the IDA. I must have needed the rest more than I realized because I didn't even know I'd
been moved. Cody slept in a bed next to me, and Travis sat on a chair by the wall at the foot of both our beds. He smiled when he saw I was awake. “You know, for someone who was so reluctant to rest, you slept more than anyone.”

I sat up and rubbed my eyes. “What time is it?”

“After six,” he said. “On Tuesday.”

I slept for a whole day.

I looked back over at Cody. “How's he doing?”

Travis stood up and pulled the chair closer to me. “He woke up earlier today. Dr. March says he'll be fine. He's got a concussion like we thought, but only a mild one.”

There was a knock on the door next to me and Sam poked his head around it.

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

He shrugged, as casual as ever. It was as if he hadn't just pulled off one of the biggest operations someone his age ever had—even if he hadn't been pulling all the strings. “I wanted to see how you made out.” He came to stand next to Travis's chair.

“We made out fine thanks to you,” I said.

He smirked. “Hey, I was just happy to get a chance. No one else would have trusted me like that.”

I smiled. “Well, you've had my back from the beginning, which is more than a lot of people around here can say.”

“Yeah,” Sam said. “But I never thought it would get me something like this.”

Travis laughed. “Karma's funny that way.”

Sam leaned against my footboard. “Just so you know, I know about your secret.”

My forehead tightened, confused. “What are you talking about?”

“The last search you did on KATO's computer,” Sam said. “The one you didn't think I could see.”

I rolled my eyes. “That wasn't a secret.”

Travis shot me a confused look. “What are you talking about?”

“What I was trying to tell you on the plane,” I said. “Before I got out of KATO's computer I looked up Eliza.”

He straightened up, seeming suddenly more alert. “You what? So fast?”

“I may not be a full-fledged hacker, but I've had enough practice with KATO's system to know my way around.” I paused, giving him a moment. “They'd had her in India since she was captured, but they recently moved her to Russia. Saint Petersburg to be exact. They have a safe house there. That's what the message on the flashdrive meant. She was the snake.”

Travis's eyes sharpened and I could already tell he was planning. “We can handle a safe house. What else did you find? I need to get moving.” I understood where he was coming from. We'd weakened KATO for the time being, but they'd be back. And there was every chance they'd be using Eliza to advance their next agenda.

“You're not going anywhere,” I said.

“Jocelyn—”

“No.” I was forceful enough to surprise them both. “After what happened to Dr. Foster, I know why you want to rush this. But you can't. If you do, you'll tip our hand and they'll move her, kill her, or use her against us. We have one chance to get this right. And besides, you're not going without me.”

He was ready to fight me, but Sam intervened. “Man, come on.
She's got a hole in her shoulder. Cut her a break.” Travis gave me a once-over and I could tell Sam was getting to him. I may have even seen a hint of guilt. Sam continued. “You've been looking for this Foster girl for a year. Now that you found her, rest up and plan it out.”

“A year?” Travis asked. “You knew?”

Sam beamed. “I know everything. You're going to have to stop being surprised by that.”

“You have such an innocent face,” I said.

“Agent Lee tells me that all the time,” Sam said.

Travis looked like he wanted to ask more questions, but he shook his head, thinking better of it. “When we
do
go in, you're on this with us.”

Sam's eyebrows shot up. “You still want me to help?”

“Yeah.” The corner of Travis's mouth turned up a fraction. “You know too much.”

Sam laughed. “It's about time that paid off.” He started backing toward the door. “I'll see you guys later. Feel better, KATO girl.”

I waited until Sam was gone to turn back to Travis. “Seriously,” I said. “I know what this means to you, but it means just as much to me. Don't do anything without me.”

He rested his elbows on his knees, leaning forward. “I won't.”

I studied him. Then something dawned on me. For the past month he'd repeatedly amazed me when he'd pick up things about me—small details that made me slightly uncomfortable with how well he seemed to know me. But in that moment I realized that I knew him as much as he knew me. “I know you're more upset about Foster than you're letting on.”

I startled him enough to make him look up. “What do you mean?”

I arched an eyebrow at him. “Since when are you ready to jump on the first plane out with no plan?”

He just looked at me, completely transfixed. When he spoke his voice was hoarse. “He's dead because I couldn't do my job. I couldn't protect his kids, I couldn't fix my mistake, and I couldn't find his daughter in time to stop him from working for the enemy.”

“But we can still do something about it,” I said. “We stopped them from using his knowledge. And they were so afraid of us getting him that they killed him before he could reset the missile.” I paused to give my words some weight. “We can still get Eliza. We can save her.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “You're right.” He only seemed slightly more convinced, but his resolved had increased. “Okay, you're right.”

“It's going to be harder with my cover blown,” I said. “They're gunning for me now.”

He looked up at me, and he saw a fraction of the fear that I had been trying to hide. “We'll figure it out. We both have a stake in this. We'll find a way to make it work.”

I sighed, feeling strangely content. Just then the door opened—this time without a knock. Agent Lee marched in with a spring in her step and a big smile on her face. “Jocelyn!” She was loud and excited and I knew it was more than just a successful mission. “Jocelyn, we found your father.”

My heart stopped, and for a moment I couldn't feel anything but the sinking pit in my stomach. This was an entirely different kind of fear.

T
he acknowledgments section of a first novel is about so much more than thanking the people who helped with this specific book. It's about thanking all of the people who have helped turn a dream into a reality. So, with that in mind, thanks to:

My agent, Michelle Wolfson, for the call that changed my life and for loving Jocelyn's story more than I could have ever hoped for. Your hard work and guidance through this whole process have been invaluable. Also, thank you for the thoughtful and encouraging email years before taking me on. You saw what I was trying to do long before I was actually doing it, which left me convinced that you would one day be the perfect agent for me and my work. I'm so grateful you felt the same way when the time came.

To Jill Santopolo, for seeing everything this book could be, and giving such inspiring notes from the very start. You have been so considerate and kind, which has made for a wonderful debut experience. I feel extremely lucky to call you my editor. Also thanks to Michael Green, Talia Benamy, Anne Heausler, Cindy Howle, Kristin Smith, Siobhan Gallagher, Semadar Megged, Lori Thorn, and everyone at Philomel and Penguin Young Readers who had a hand in turning this story into a real-thing-I-can-actually-hold. You are all truly awesome.

To my parents, Frank and Marianne Rogers, for supporting me in every way, and always knowing I'd end up here. Also, for giving me
entirely too much power as a child. No, seriously—I'm pretty sure it's the reason I never doubted I had the power to make this happen.

To my sister, Katie Rogers, for being so imaginative with me as we were growing up. For always believing in me and sharing my love of stories. For accepting that I am both the bossy and annoying sister. And for tolerating the singing wake-up calls, messy toothpaste tubes, blaring music in my car, and
all of the things
. You really do put up with a lot—but I think we can both agree that it's so much more fun this way. Right? Yeah, I thought so.

To my cousins Shannon Rogers, Hunter Brutsche, Erin Rogers, Kellsey Rogers, and Seamus Rogers, who have always been more like siblings. Thanks for dreaming big with me, guys! You can officially start thinking about your rooms! (It just may be a while before you get them.)

Extra thanks to Hunter for answering every call, text, and question, and for teaching me what I needed to know to write this. There is not enough space here to completely describe how much you've helped me (but I'll add more in the next book, because I need your help with that, too).

Thanks to my grandparents Ellen Civatte, John Civatte, and Joan Rogers, for being the original biggest fans, and doing so much to inspire my imagination. To my aunts and uncles, Nancy Brutsche, Joan Latshaw, Dave Latshaw, Claire Mann, Dave Mann, Jimmy Rogers, and Colleen Rogers, along with my cousins Josh Latshaw and Jeremy Latshaw for being so supportive and sharing all of this with me. I'm so glad you are all my family. Additionally, thanks to Lisa Rice, Kevin Rice, Lauren Rice, Lindsay Rice, Kevin Rice, Trish Carman, Chic Carman, Jerry Keil, and Paula Keil, for always taking an interest and
redefining the term
extended family
. It means so much to me!

To Jessie Furia for fighting so hard against that awful idea. You changed the entire direction of the series for the better—Jocelyn has her strength because of you. And to Dana Celona for every detailed and thoughtful comment. And for understanding the importance and delight of torturing characters. You were the ally I needed.

To Maggie McGrath for being so enthusiastic, for questioning all the right things, and for being my friend for the past eleven years. Thank you for giving this and all of my books so much of your time and attention. You are unquestionably my person.

To my friends Susan Murphy and Mark Murphy (and their daughter Shannon Murphy) for the years of employment prior to this, and for believing in me as much as my own family. And to Jenn Lacko and Caitlin Naylor, for showing up at my house with champagne the night I got my agent, and for a lifetime of imagination and inspiration. It means everything to have you two on my side.

To Carla Spataro, Randall Brown, Richard Bank, and everyone at Rosemont College for developing such a solid MFA program. I learned so much in my time there. Also to my college writing instructors, Jim Kain and Joe Glass, for teaching awesome classes and proving that taking classes in writing wouldn't ruin the experience for me (it was something I was seriously concerned about at the time).

To all of the students I had the pleasure of working with during my time at Springfield High School, especially: Alex DeLuca, Alicia LeSage, Brianna Fox, Michael Strolli, Megan Yates, Dan Madonna, Bryan Biehl, Richie Brown, Steven Russo, James Leahan, Bradley Lord, Kevin Swanick, Danny Swanick, Jimmy Swanick, Heather Sinkerton, Jack Schott, Steve Reger, Ryan Joyce, Mike Dougherty,
Lou DiMichele, Nick Santana, Bill Flaherty, and Aysha Ray-Walker. I am better for knowing each of you.

Special thanks to: Dan Ketler, Vince Marra, and Pat McKnight for being a constant source of optimism and inspiration. To Amanda Brown for always being in my corner. And to Davis Caramanico for your superior naming skills and for taking an interest from the beginning.

Likewise, thanks to Zac Ondo for being the original noodle, letting me borrow your word, and making sure I got it right. Also for being so invested and always caring about what I was working on. Thanks to Courtney O'Connell (Courto!) for being one of the first people in my target audience to read my first novel. Your belief and enthusiasm helped me get here.

And, of course, thank you to Sam Mola for being yourself and inspiring so much of this story. When I started planning this, I had no intentions of giving any of the students in Jocelyn's class too big of a role. You inspired not only a character, but an entire direction for this story and I can't thank you enough for that.

Thanks to Vicky Rostovich, Adriana Lecuona, Mercedes Huff, Mary Pat Bowman, Mary Schwingen, Sharon Smith, Patricia Reynolds, Diane McGinty, Elise Woods, Mary Ann Clifford, Yvette Goslin, Jill Keithly, Gladys Ramirez-Wrease, and everyone at DCCC who I have been lucky enough to call colleagues. Your support has been overwhelming and is so appreciated. Nkenge Daniels, thank for reading and always talking writing with me (and for being so adorable!). And Emily Irwin, thank you for being such a self-aware human disaster. (I haven't made proper use of this yet, but I will!) And also for caring, and continually thinking all of this is so cool.

To all of the Sixteen to Read and Sweet Sixteen members I have had the chance to get to know over this past year. Sharing this journey with you has been
everything
!

And last, to the two people who have impacted my creative life more than anyone or anything else:

Andrea Ridgley, thank you for being SO EXCITED when I decided publication was a goal back when we were in ninth grade, and for understanding, so completely, what it's like to create. For seeing the strengths in every first draft and seeming to know what the story is supposed to be long before I do. You are the absolute best first reader and an even better friend. My work and my life would be so much worse off without you.

And Denise Mroz, thank you for saying “yes” my junior year. For giving me a place in your room and in your life. For believing this would happen with such certainty, that it truly felt inevitable. For being the Lois to my Chloe. For showing me that pigs can fly, and Mrogers can make anything happen. I don't know who I'd be or what I'd be doing without you, but I know it wouldn't be this—which means I would be utterly
miserable.