Rising Tomorrow (Roc de Chere Book 1) by Mariana Morgan (essential reading txt) 📕

‘My name is Raphael Gonzalez.’ That was only half the truth, but it would have to do for now. ‘Until a few days ago I was in charge of a police investigation at Lyon’s 4th Police Station. Do you remember being at the 4th? You were taken there to meet with Commissioner Wagner. Do you remember that, Ms Moretti?’

It was unnatural to skip the usual ‘How are you feeling?’ questions, but the last thing Gonzalez wanted was for Eloise to agonise over her condition. He needed to help her reach outside of her body, not inside. It wouldn’t help her recovery from the drug overload and trauma to get stuck with basic awareness; he needed her higher brain functions to start waking up as soon as possible. He had to focus her mind on memories and thoughts, not sensations and feelings, now that her body was awake. It was crucial to make sure the higher brain functions didn’t decide to shy away from the experience, retreating into oblivion. She would need those memories to begin healing. The gaps had to be filled as soon as possible.

‘Recently’—he carefully avoided saying that it had been over five days ago, since it most likely felt like a few hours, given the lack of memories—‘you were taken to the 4th and asked to look at a particular VRP. You found something. You wanted to use your own facilities to analyse it. Do you remember that?’

Eloise blinked, returning her expressionless gaze to Gonzalez. It was odd. Part of her wanted—needed—to remember. The other part wanted to sleep and forget. That was really strange. Usually she knew exactly what she wanted.

***

‘She is still half comatose,’ Ingram said.

Gonzalez didn’t want anyone but himself present when Eloise came around, but he hadn’t stopped Ingram and Rivas monitoring the event through one of the internal security cams.

‘I’m surprised she is even half-awake this fast,’ Rivas replied. ‘Her body was a cocktail of chemicals.’

Ingram gave him a half-angry, half-pained look.

‘Hey! Not blaming you, ma’am!’ Rivas said quickly, throwing his hands up in an exaggerated defensive gesture. Funny how one look could bring up all sorts of memories of those early days when he had discovered just how unpleasant it was to fall short of Major Toscano’s expectations.

‘Not “ma’am”,’ she protested, pointing with one finger at her wrist and tapping where her BCC was. She hated the bloody thing now more than ever. But it wasn’t coming out anytime soon. ‘Still a sarge, Lieutenant.’ She knew she had slipped herself just before she lost consciousness, out in the woods, but that was no excuse. ‘I know you can comfortably swap back and forth between various cover identities and be damn convincing, but it is good practice to live truthful to your BCC.’ She didn’t have to add just what a monumental pain in the ass it was to live truthful to her own BCC. ‘And don’t let the colonel catch you doing it,’ she added, and sighed.

The colonel. He isn’t a bloody colonel now, according to his BCC, is he?

If Wagner’s demotion had gone through, his rank would have been equivalent to a lieutenant, but his BCC now still scanned him as a DCI, which roughly corresponded to the rank of a major. His date of promotion was, according to the cover story they had created, 19th September 2724. Ingram’s, or more correctly Toscano’s, own promotion to major dated back to 2722.

So technically, if I reverted back to my old persona, I’d officially be senior now that the MIS has relieved him from command and stood him down from active service. And that is dangerous territory I’d rather stay well clear of.

It’s easy to make decisions as long as I make them for myself, in my own head. Easy to question what the colonel has decided because I know that if I’m wrong, no one will get hurt. Making command decisions in the real world is an entirely different thing. I know my bloody limits.

I also know there is more going on than meets the eye.

Ingram had pledged her loyalty to the cause years ago, and she was determined to fulfil her role. She accepted that it wasn’t possible for her to know everything where spook work was concerned. The need-to-know rule applied within the MIS even more strongly than within the rest of the military, and for a very good reason.

She held Rivas’ eyes for a moment, feeling a little bit dishonest ordering him around after she had just made it plainly clear he was not only her superior but also an Elite to her assumed Leech birth, but she had to make her point firmly now before the chain of command, however odd, disintegrated.

Finally, Rivas nodded, understanding the reasoning perfectly. He had his own uneasy feelings, but they were of a personal nature and he firmly suppressed them.

Their attention returned to the cam’s feed, as if they both desired to pretend the conversation had never happened.

***

‘Do you have any questions, Ms Moretti?’ Gonzalez asked. He had spent the last few minutes retelling the events as he understood them, repeating himself clearly and patiently.

He couldn’t tell if the woman in front of him was remembering anything. He had nearly made up his mind to bring Ingram into the mix, hoping to jolt Eloise’s memories, when Eloise moved.

‘Where am I?’ Her voice was strong but flat.

‘You are in a safehouse, a modern underground bunker, Ms Moretti. Safely away from the people who tried to hurt—’

‘I didn’t ask what this place is. I asked where,’ she demanded, and the Medibot beeped softly, registering a spike in adrenaline.

The beep distracted Gonzalez from his shock at being rudely interrupted. He glanced quickly at the screen. Any more stress and adrenaline and it would start administering more sedatives, further abusing Eloise’s already weakened system. But so would the stress hormones if she got any more agitated. Her body was being kept in a carefully balanced state by the Medibot to ensure the quickest recovery