“The idea being my blood could be used to create some kind of supersoldier . . . ?”
“It was conceivable.”
“. . . An army whose soldiers are instantly healed on the battlefield, whose troops are immune to disease and injuries . . .” I saw it then—the only real use somebody like Nueve would have for my blood. I remembered what I said to Ashley at the airport, We wouldn’t want some kid with the power to heal the world running amok, healing the world, and felt sick to my stomach. “The possibilities are endless, aren’t they, Sam?”
“That it was a possibility made SOFIA necessary.”
“And SOFIA made the SD 1031 necessary.”
He nodded. “Necessary, yes.”
“Because the Operative Nine couldn’t risk the Item of Special Interest falling into the wrong hands.”
“The results could be catastrophic.”
“So he needed a way to keep a thumb on the Special Item—and a way to . . . terminate the experiment if that became—”
“Necessary,” he said.
“Necessary. Right. The Operative Nine didn’t have a choice.”
“No choice,” he echoed.
“Because he’s the Operative Nine. He has to consider the inconsiderable. Think the unthinkable.”
“The unthinkable.”
“Not just the zigs—the zags too.”
“Alfred, I—” He turned around to face me.
“And it didn’t matter this Item of Special Interest was a fifteen-year-old kid.”
He went stiff on me; I was touching a raw nerve. “Your . . . gift was crucial in recovering the Seals— indispensable, in fact. If we had had access to it in previous missions, lives would have been saved, needless suffering avoided . . .”
“Previous missions? What missions? Missions like Abkhazia? Those kinds of missions, Sam?”
“Of course, yes. Of course, missions like Abkhazia.” He cleared his throat. “You have said it yourself, Alfred. An Operative Nine must think the unthinkable, consider every possible application of a Special Item, particularly those scenarios in which it might fall into unfriendly hands.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked.
“You know the answer to that.”
“No, Sam, why didn’t you tell me after you left OIPEP? Why didn’t you tell me when I decided to go with Nueve?”
“Because I thought SOFIA was dead. Dr. Smith told me she killed the project when she took office as director, and I believed her.”
“I guess Nueve overruled her.”
“With the backing of the board,” he said with a nod.
“You still should have told me.”
“Yes. You’re right. I should have.”
“Well,” I said. “Well, okay. All right. Abby’s working on that. Or maybe she isn’t. Can we trust her? Should we trust her?”
“I trust her,” he said. “I always have.”