The Inner Circle

103

"I–I’m great,” I tell Dallas, who quickly turns back to the file he’s flipping through.

“Turn around and walk away from him!” Tot barks through the phone. “Dallas has been in the Plumbers from the start-his uncle is Ronald Cobb, the President’s law school pal, who used to work at the Archives and got Dallas the job here! That’s why they picked him!”

It makes no sense. If that’s the case, why’d Dallas bring me here? But before I can ask it-

“If you think I’m lying, at least get out of there,” Tot adds. “At the very worst, I keep you alive!”

I take a few steps back, my body still in shock. It’s like staring at your reflection in the back of a spoon. In front of me, the spoon flattens-the distortion fades-and life slowly becomes crystal clear. Since the start of this, I’ve learned how good the Culper Ring was at keeping secrets… how they protect us like a big outer ring without ever revealing their existence… and how hard they’ve worked to shut down corrupt Presidents like Nixon or Wallace when they start their own private, self-serving inner rings like the Plumbers. But last night, within the first three minutes of being in that safehouse, Dallas spilled every secret, revealed his own membership, and took control of my entire search for the Plumbers, including making sure that I stopped sharing with Tot.

I thought it was for my own good.

But if what Tot says is true… if Tot’s the one in the Culper Ring and Dallas has been lying… the only ones who really benefited were Wallace… Palmiotti… and…

“This is it…!” Dallas shouts, excitedly pulling out a few sheets of paper and slapping the file folder shut. “We got it, Beech. Here it is!” Closing the file box, he shoves it back on the shelf and rushes right at me.

“Get away from him, Beecher!” Tot yells in my ear.

Dallas stops right in front of me, the hospital file clutched at his side.

“Who’re you talking to?” Dallas asks, pointing to my phone and sliding his reading glasses back into his jacket pocket.

“He found the file? Do not let him have that!” Tot adds as another noise-this one louder, a metal thud-erupts from this side of the stacks. Whoever’s in here, they’re getting closer.

“That noise… you think that’s Clementine?” Dallas asks, sidestepping past me and racing into the main aisle, back toward the door. What Tot said first is still my best move. I can deal with Dallas later. Right now, though, I need to get out of here.

“Watch him, Beecher!” Tot says in my ear as we pick up speed.

With each row we pass, I glance down each one. Empty. Empty. Empty again.

The air feels frozen as we run. It doesn’t stop the even colder sweat that’s crawling up my back.

The red doors are just a few feet away.

We pass another empty row. And another.

“Do we need a code to get out!?” Dallas asks.

“She said it opens from-”

Kuh-kunk.

The metal door flies wide as Dallas rams it with his hip. It’s the same for the next door, the outer red door, which whips open, dumping us both back into the dusty air and poor lighting of the cave. We’re still moving, skidding, slowing down. It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to the dark.

That’s the reason we don’t see who’s standing there, waiting for us.

There’s a soft click. Like the hammer on a gun.

“Put the phone down, Beecher,” she says, and I drop it to the ground. To make sure Tot’s gone, she picks it up and hangs up the phone herself.

I was wrong. She wasn’t inside. She was out here the whole time.

“I’m sorry. I really am,” Clementine adds as she points her gun at Dallas’s face, then over to mine. “But I need to know what they did to my dad.”