“Something urgent has come up and the two of them had to…leave,” Buckingham finished, choosing her words carefully.
“But—” Liz started, and Buckingham cut her off.
“But nothing. Listen to me very carefully, girls. They had to go. They will be gone indefinitely, and they will be unreachable. Do not try to follow them,” Buckingham warned. “Do not try to track them down. If you want them to be safe then you will follow these instructions. Do you understand?”
I did understand, but that didn’t mean I had to like it. I looked at Liz and thought about what our oldest faculty member was really telling us: that the people we trusted most were gone. And there was no way to know when—or if—they would ever return.
Buckingham started through the Hall of History.
“Your mother is fine, Cameron. She will be back soon.” She looked certain. She sounded sure. But she held my gaze just a moment too long. Her hands shook, and in that moment, Patricia Buckingham didn’t look like a seasoned operative. She looked like an old woman, and it was harder than it should have been to watch her walk away.
“You need a coat,” Zach told me an hour later. Then he took off his own jacket and slipped it around my shoulders. Because even major security threats of global proportions couldn’t stop my boyfriend from being pretty much the sexiest guy alive.
We were standing in the space I’d first found a year before. Once upon a time it had been home to the Gallagher Academy’s covert carrier pigeon program. Then Mr. Solomon had used it to decipher my father’s final words to me. And now it was my favorite place to hide. With a small balcony and a secluded cave-like room, I felt free there, looking out over the school grounds and the lights of distant towns.
“I don’t get it.” Liz shook and paced. “Why would they leave? They can’t just leave!”
“Cam,” Bex said, inching closer. “You don’t seem surprised.”
“I’m not.” I laughed at my own foolishness. “It was Edwards,” I said. “When he brought me home, he asked about Mr. Solomon—like he knew he was still alive and hiding out here…like Edwards and his task force were going to come after Mr. Solomon and anyone who might be helping him.”
I felt like an idiot that I hadn’t seen what Mom was saying in that moment. I speak fourteen different languages. I should know “good-bye” when I hear it.
“So now they’re just gone?” Macey asked.
“They’re on a mission, Macey,” Zach reminded her. “If what happened at the prison proves anything, it’s that nothing has changed. The Circle has moles everywhere. Even within Max Edwards’s little task force. If we want to stop the Circle’s leaders, then we are going to have to track them down ourselves.” Zach crossed his arms and leaned against the balcony’s railing. “That’s what Rachel and Joe are going to do.”
He was right, and I wanted to say so. But a thought I couldn’t articulate had settled in my mind, and I felt myself turning it over and over like a talisman.
“What is it, Gallagher Girl?” Zach asked.
I shook my head. “I don’t know. It’s just…something isn’t right.”
Technically, a whole lot of somethings weren’t right, but there was one I couldn’t put my finger on, and that, more than anything, haunted me. I wanted to ask my mother for advice. I needed to talk to Abby. I wanted Joe Solomon to fly in like the pigeons and start asking me questions until I landed upon the answer my mind knew but couldn’t say. I had been on my own for months last summer. But I’d never felt more alone in my life.
“What do we do now?” Liz asked. “Who do we tell about my test and…you know…World War Three?”
It sounded so silly when she put it that way—so crazy and far-fetched; but Liz was the smartest person I knew, and Liz wasn’t just serious. She was terrified.
“Liz, are you sure you’re right about this?” I asked. “Are you telling me that five and a half years ago you said that a person would have to do these exact things to start World War Three?”
“Well…” Liz looked slightly guilty. “Not these things exactly.”
Bex opened her mouth to protest; but, for once, Liz was too fast for her.
“I said it would be about oil and the trade routes of the gulf. I said that to escalate the tension in the region, one would need to eliminate the trade options for Iran and drive over eighty percent of their oil traffic through the pipelines they have going through Caspia.”
“Caspia is a police state,” Bex said.
“Exactly. There was a coup d’état fifteen years ago, and a bunch of military higher-ups took over the government and got rid of the royal family. King Najeeb has been living in exile ever since. The royal family had close ties to the West and an alliance with Turkey. But the military dictatorship that now rules Caspia is loyal to Iran. The whole thing almost blew up ten years ago, but that led to—”
“The Treaty of Caspia,” I said. “Mr. Smith talked about that for a solid week our eighth grade year.”
“Exactly,” Liz said. “Caspia is a no-man’s-land. Neither Iran nor Turkey can officially cross the border. But if more and more of the Iranian oil traffic has to go through there, then that border starts looking more and more tempting to the Iranian forces.” Then Liz shrugged. “At least that was my theory.”
“What does that mean, Liz?” Bex asked with a shake of her head.
“It’s not science, okay? It’s a butterfly—”
“Effect, we know,” Bex finished for her.
“No! You don’t know. I’m telling you that someone has my essay.”
“And that’s why we can’t tell anyone, Lizzie,” I explained. “If you gave that answer to the Gallagher Academy, then that means the Circle got it from the Gallagher Academy. We have no idea who we can trust.” I took a deep breath. “Besides, it’s not like these things are covert. Everyone in the world knows what’s going on.”
“So?” Liz asked.
“So are you sure, Liz?” Bex finished. “I mean, it sounds like the best spies in the world think these things are unrelated. Flukes.”
“And things are never more than they appear?” The question cut us to our core. “Besides,” Liz added, “I think the best spies in the world are right here. And I’m asking them to believe me.”