Unravel Me: The Juliette Chronicles Book 2

strides down the dark halls. He must have these tunnels memorized, I think, because I can’t see a thing. I have to practically run to keep up with him. “But,” he says, “I’m assuming some kind of shit has officially hit the fan. Castle sent me a message about fifteen minutes ago—said to get me and you and Kent up to his office ASAP. So,” he says, “that’s what I’m doing.”
    “But—now? In the middle of the night?”
    “Shit hitting the fan doesn’t work around your schedule, princess.”
    I decide to stop talking.
    We follow Kenji to a single solitary door at the end of a narrow tunnel.
    He knocks twice, pauses. Knocks 3 times, pauses. Knocks once.
    I wonder if I need to remember that.
    The door creaks open on its own and Castle waves us in.
    “Close the door, please,” he says from behind his desk. I have to blink several times to readjust to the light in here. There’s a traditional reading lamp on Castle’s desk with just enough wattage to illuminate this small space. I use the moment to look around.
    Castle’s office is nothing more than a room with a few bookcases and a simple table that doubles as a workstation. Everything is made of recycled metal. His desk looks like it used to be a pickup truck.
    There are heaps of books and papers stacked all over the floor; diagrams, machinery, and computer parts shoved onto the bookcases, thousands of wires and electrical units peeking out of their metal bodies; they must either be damaged or broken or perhaps part of a project Castle is working on.
    In other words: his office is a mess.
    Not something I was expecting from someone so incredibly put-together.
    “Have a seat,” he says to us. I look around for chairs but only find two upside-down garbage cans and a stool. “I’ll be right with you. Give me one moment.”
    We nod. We sit. We wait. We look around.
    Only then do I realize why Castle doesn’t care about the disorganized nature of his office.
    He seems to be in the middle of something, but I can’t see what it is, and it doesn’t really matter. I’m too focused on watching him work. His hands shift up and down, flick from side to side, and everything he needs or wants simply gravitates toward him. A particular piece of paper? A notepad? The clock buried under the pile of books farthest from his desk? He looks for a pencil and lifts his hand to catch it. He’s searching for his notes and lifts his fingers to find them.
    He doesn’t need to be organized. He has a system of his own.
    Incredible.
    He finally looks up. Puts his pencil down. Nods. Nods again. “Good. Good; you’re all here.”
    “Yes, sir,” Kenji says. “You said you needed to speak with us.”
    “Indeed I do.” Castle folds his hands over his desk. “Indeed I do.” Takes a careful breath. “The supreme commander,” he says, “has arrived at the headquarters of Sector 45.”
    Kenji swears.
    Adam is frozen.
    I’m confused. “Who’s the supreme commander?”
    Castle’s gaze rests on me. “Warner’s father.” His eyes narrow, scrutinizing me. “You didn’t know that Warner’s father is the supreme commander of The Reestablishment?”
    “Oh,” I gasp, unable to imagine the monster that must be Warner’s father. “I—yes—I knew that,” I tell him. “I just didn’t know what his title was.”
    “Yes,” Castle says. “There are six supreme commanders around the world, one for each of the six divisions: North America, South America, Europe, Asia, Africa, and Oceania. Each section is divided into 555 sectors for a total of 3,330 sectors around the globe. Warner’s father is not only in charge of this continent, he is also one of the founders of The Reestablishment, and currently our biggest threat.”
    “But I thought there were 3,333 sectors,” I tell Castle, “not 3,330. Am I remembering that wrong?”
    “The other three are capitals,” Kenji says to me. “We’re pretty sure that one of them is somewhere in North America, but no one knows for certain where any of them are located. So yeah,” he adds, “you’re remembering right. The Reestablishment has some crazy fascination with exact numbers. 3,333 sectors altogether and 555 sectors each. Everyone gets the same thing, regardless of size. They think it shows how equally they’ve divided everything, but it’s just a bunch of bullshit.”
    “Wow.” Every single day I’m floored by how much I still need to learn. I look at Castle. “So is this the emergency? That