ksyu_ta: переводы

→“Now, act like I’m the VP. You are going to walk from behind the curtain and step up to me.”

→Since he refused to acknowledge my concerns, I replayed what he’d said and focused my attention on the room’s layout. No way in hell would I let his efforts be wasted.

→Acting like nothing was wrong, he pointed to the back of the room, which was still the warehouse. “Your mom will be sitting at the back corner table.” A large round table appeared. “One of the two Oculi from the Resistance will be sitting with your mom. Her plus-one guest will be Santos instead of your brother, for added safety. The other will be in the opposite back corner.” Another table showed up, along with the back wall of the room, then the rest of the tables filled in the space between the back wall and the stage. “Secret Service will be stationed at the back wall, along with several others throughout the room. There should be two onstage, one on each side of the vice president, and the rest off to the sides.”

→“Reid,” I whispered again. I saw it now. The strain. The way his mouth tightened and his eyes narrowed the tiniest bit because he was in pain.

→Overhead bulbs illuminated the backstage area, and Reid squeezed his eyes tight. He blinked a couple times and said, “Okay. You’ll be standing here. I’ll be across from you on the opposite side of the backstage. Santos will be right in front of you, in front of the stage, on the floor. We’ll both be posing as photographers—school paper and yearbook or something.” He waved his hand, glossing over the details. “When the VP calls your name, you’ll move through this opening straight to the podium.” A wooden podium appeared, and he ambled to the front of the stage.

→Jogging up the side stairs after Reid to follow him backstage, I hauled a door open and stepped into darkness. “Reid?”

→He’d just Pushed a replica of the room where the ceremony would take place for me to practice, plus he’d already Pushed a new car for me. But every Push came at a cost; he’d told me that himself. He couldn’t keep using his powers so freely, not for me.

→I was about to ask more questions, but something sounded behind us, catching my attention. A wallpapered room replaced the cement-block warehouse walls. A stage with heavy blue curtains behind it was the focal point.

→He ran a hand over his scruff. “I, uh, found a way in last night after Santos took over watch at your house, just to get a feel for the stage. Security had already closed off sections of the hotel. The room was set up, minus linens and decorations. I committed the layout to memory.”

→I was a bit confused as to how we’d practice like it was real without breaking into the ceremony location—the hotel we’d scouted. It was probably under high surveillance due to the VP’s imminent arrival. Surely the Secret Service or some kind of security would be in place. While on campaign tours or just at home, the contender for the most powerful position in the world would surely not go unguarded. “How…”

→He turned around, leaned against the table, and crossed his arms, tugging up his sleeve and revealing the tattoo Nick used to bare.

→I scooted my finger across the rectangle representing the stage, and Reid did the same. Our fingers bumped, and tiny tingles danced along my vertebrae.

→“Your mother will be at the back of the room, seated at this table,” Reid continued. “When they call your name, you’ll be signaled to walk across the stage.”

→Reid waved me over by him. “You’ll be backstage.” His finger landed on the large rectangle. “Santos will be here, I’ll be here, and we should have two more operatives, most likely placed here and here.” When his finger glided across the diagram to the various positions, I marked with my own finger where I would stand.

→I knew what it was once I drew close enough. A map, a layout of the vice president’s speech and award ceremony. He said we’d be working on logistics. “Oh.”

→Once parked inside the warehouse, I moseyed to Reid, who was bent over a table that hadn’t been there just seconds before. “What are—”

→I needed to ensure those lives didn’t suffer or get hurt in vain—no matter the cost or consequences for me.

→He gave a curt nod, then jogged to his bike. A moment later, it rumbled to life. “I’ll follow you to the warehouse,” he yelled over the noise. He was forcing me to get back in my car. I immediately saw his ploy for what it was. It wasn’t the car that I wasn’t keen on, though, it was the water. Still, I could appreciate his plan. Pulling out of the driveway, I spotted Santos across the street, ready to take over watch of my house.

→He’d stay there until my mom and brother came home. In only a few days, so many lives had been turned upside down because of me, because of who and what I was.

→“Thank you.” Reid used his abilities freely. Too freely. He was either way stronger than the average Oculi, or he was burning through his reserves at a dangerous pace. I made a mental note to ask him about that.