by R S Penney
“You're bluffing.”
“Test that theory at your leisure, my dear.”
“Fine,” Anna growled. “Two hours.”
“307 Dalhousie Street, Apartment VI.”
The line went dead.
Rubbing her nose with the back of her hand, Anna winced. She shook her head and heaved out a sigh. “You're going to take the Nassai and go,” she instructed Jack. “Leave this city, and find someplace safe.”
He stared at her with his mouth agape, sweat glistening on his face. “You cannot be serious,” he said, backing away from her. “You're actually going to walk straight into the bastard's trap?”
Anna crossed her arms, then frowned down at the ground. “I can't take the chance that he'll make good on his threat,” she said. “I will not have the deaths of hundreds of innocents on my conscience.”
“But the Nassai-”
“Weren't you listening?” Anna bared her teeth in a vicious snarl, squinting as she studied him. “I won't bring the Nassai within ten miles of that man. The symbiont is in your care now, Jack.”
He stared down at the ground, face reddening as he shook his head in disgust. “I'm not qualified to do that.” Turning away from her, Jack walked a few steps before pausing. Her heart went out to him. “I wouldn't know where to begin.”
“Have faith.”
“Faith?”
Closing her eyes, Anna took a deep breath. She nodded to him. “You're far stronger than you give yourself credit for,” she began. “Trust in yourself, Jack. You may not have all the answers, but I have no doubt you'll find them.”
He stood with shoulders slumped, staring out across a field at a line of trees in the distance. “You don't expect to come back from this,” Jack muttered. “You believe you're going to die.”
Anna unclipped the multi-tool from her belt, leaving the disk-shaped containment unit attached. “You have to care for the Nassai,” she said, approaching Jack. “It can only survive for a few days unless you find it a host.”
Jack rounded on her.
For half a heartbeat, she expected an argument, but he simply took the containment unit in both hands. “I'll care for the Nassai,” he said, nodding. “And I won't let Pennfield or his goons anywhere near it.”
“One other thing.”
She turned.
Their car was parked along the curb at a bend in the road, right in front of a set of tall red-bricked houses. It was what Jack called a clunker, but he seemed to have some affection for it. Strange.
Anna shuffled across the street with hands in her pockets. She paused, then bowed her head. “This won't be easy,” she told Jack. “Pennfield will almost certainly send men to hunt you down.”
She opened the car's back door.
Retrieving her gun from the seat, Anna held it up in one hand. She watched sunlight reflect off the sleek black barrel. “I'm giving this to you,” she went on. “Leyrian firearms are more advanced than those of your world. It might give you an edge.”
She flipped a tiny switch just above the grip, activating the weapon. Leyrian pistols used magnetic propulsion to fire a round at speeds comparable to those of chemically based firearms. Depowering the weapon also served as a safety precaution.
“There are three rounds left in this magazine, plus two additional clips,” she began. “The power cell should be good for another hundred shots. After that, the weapon will be useless, but you'll run out of ammo long before that.”
She spun around to find Jack scowling at her, shaking his head as if he thought she had lost her mind. “Won't you need that?” he inquired. “You're the one going into danger, and I don't like the thought of carrying a lethal weapon.”
“Shin vaki!”
Speaking the words “stun rounds” in Leyrian caused the LEDs on either side of the pistol's barrel to turn blue. “Remember that command,” Anna said. “Blue means that the weapon will fire rounds with a mild electric charge – just enough to immobilize a target for a few minutes. They'll fly at a much lower speed, which means they won't cause any permanent damage but will also be useless against body armour. Nishto!”
The word standard made the LEDs go dark.
Burying his face in his hand, Jack let out a groan. “Anna, I want you to keep it,” he protested. “You're the one who's going into danger; I'm just leaving the city. You need it more than I do.”
Idiot man!
Could he not understand that she was giving this to him because he had no other way of defending himself? Because…because she couldn't bear the thought of him being hurt? “I'm a trained Justice Keeper,” she said, amazed by the lack of fury in her voice. “I can take care of myself.”
He watched her with a flat expression, then nodded once. “All right then,” he said, backing away from her. “But I want a plan to rendezvous once you've dealt with Wesley's threats. I expect you to come out of this.”
“Naturally,” she said. “Let's get moving.”
Chapter 15
Jack sat in his sister's car with his hands on the steering wheel, trying to subdue the tension that threatened to squeeze his lungs until they burst. Somehow, despite herculean attempts to be positive, he had come to believe that he would never see Anna again. That left him feeling dead inside.
Clenching his teeth, Jack stared down into his lap. He shook his head. “Damn you, Pennfield!” he shouted in a rasp. “If you hurt that girl, I swear to God I'll dedicate every waking second to taking you down!”
Through the windshield, he saw an ordinary suburban street with cars parked along the curb and kids shuffling about in the middle of the road, eating popsicles. Hundreds of people might be dead in a few hours; how could everything look so normal?
The Nassai's containment unit was sitting in the front seat with its LED lit up in a steady green. Leyrian characters flashed on the small screen atop the device, presumably indicating that all was well. Too bad he couldn't read their script.
Jack winced, then pressed a palm hard against his forehead. He let out a groan. “If you could only comprehend what's going on,” he said to the creature, “maybe you could tell me what to do next.”
His phone rang.
Lauren's number flashed on the screen as his phone danced about in the little slot between the seats. Should he answer? It didn't seem prudent if he was planning to leave town with her car but…
Jack picked up the phone.
He closed his eyes and rested his head against the seat cushion. “Hello?” he said in a tight voice. “What's up, Lauren?”
“Oh, this isn't Lauren.”
Those words hit him like a punch to the chest. The voice on the line belonged to a man that he had hoped to evade. Detective Harry Carlson sounded far too satisfied with himself. “Hello, Jack,” he went on. “I thought we should talk.”
Jack sat up.
It took some effort to keep his voice steady, but he managed it. “What are you doing with my sister's phone?”
“Well, right now, I'm standing in her living room,” Carlson explained. “Making an arrest for aiding and abetting a known fugitive. Poor Lauren was foolish enough to lend you her car after all.”
Jack ground his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut. He couldn't stop the rumbling growl that erupted from his throat. “That'll never hold up in court!” he spat. “Lauren could not have known what we were planning.”
“You'd be surprised what a jury will believe,” Carlson shot back. “But I'm willing to let her go. She's not the one I want anyway.”
Blood drained out of Jack's face, and sweat broke out on his forehead. He couldn't turn himself in; ordinarily, he'd do anything for Lauren, but if Carlson got his hands on the Nassai, he'd give it back to Pennfield. “What are you proposing?”
“Meet me at your sister's house.”
“And if I don't?”
“Well, you can run,” Carlson replied. “But this will go up the ranks, and sooner or later you'll have the RCMP on your ass. Meanwhile, your poor sister will be tied
up with legal battles and spending her days in a jail cell. Trust me when I say that no judge will allow bond, not with the chaos that your little friend has been causing.”
Chewing on his lower lip, Jack shut his eyes. He nodded to himself, trying to stay calm. “Seems you've got all the bases covered,” he said. “But there's something that you really ought to know.”
“What's that?”
“Anna,” Jack began, “that little chaos-causing friend of mine, is trying to save lives. Pennfield is the real criminal here.”
“Why should I believe that?”
Why should he believe that? Think! There had to be something Jack could use to convince the other man. “She told me about what happened each time she escaped from the Penworth building,” he said. “I'm betting that if you check the security footage, you'll see that she went out of her way to avoid lethal force.”
Silence on the line.
“You know I'm right,” Jack pressed. “And I would be happy to give you all of the details, but right now, I have what you might call a foreign dignitary with-”
“No, that's enough,” Carlson interrupted. “You wanna talk? I'll hear you out, Jack, but you come here and meet me.”
Could he go? He had promised to take care of the Nassai – and he couldn't do that if it was taken from him – but he couldn't allow his sister to rot in prison either. Not for something he had done. Why did it always feel as though he were a fly on the world's windshield, destined to be hit with the wiper blades? No matter what he did, everything fell apart.
No.
That was defeatism talking. His problem was that he had reduced the situation to two choices – go to Lauren or flee the city – when, in fact, there were several others. He had Anna's pistol and her multi-tool. He could prove that there was more going on than just a lot of violence. Maybe he could even convince Carlson to help him look after the Nassai. “All right,” Jack said. “I'm on my way.”
Dalhousie Street was a wide corridor between two lines of buildings of no more than three or four stories, most with red-bricked faces and windows on the upper levels. The road was devoid of vehicles except for a few cars parked along the curb. The nearby street festival had reduced traffic to a minimum.
Anna walked up the sidewalk with her arms folded, frowning down at her feet. The warm sun on her skin did nothing to take away the shivers that went through her. So, this is how it ends for me.
A few young women on the opposite sidewalk walked past, stopping in front of a purple building that housed a restaurant. They were laughing and chatting, completely unaware of the danger.
The address Anna had been given was located above a small pastry shop in what was obviously an apartment. She could see the buzzer next to the front door. No doubt her contact expected her to announce her arrival by asking for admittance. She intended to disappoint him; the first rule of survival was to never do what your enemy expected.
A red postal truck on the curb would keep her hidden from anyone on the opposite side of the street. The thing was rumbling, spitting out fumes from a stubby exhaust pipe. Perhaps if she made contact with her people, they could teach the citizens of Earth how to create cleaner energy technologies.
Gritting her teeth, Anna looked up at the building. She narrowed her eyes, focused on the task. “Well, my Nassai,” she said, nodding once, “this might be farewell. But for what it's worth, you've been a good partner, if a silent one.”
Her eyes caught sight of something in the window.
A figure in unrelieved black, barely visible through the glare on the windowpane, paced across the room and vanished from sight. Just a glimpse, and yet she was sure that was her contact.
Anna spun around to face the truck.
Reducing gravity, she leaped and sailed upward to land crouched upon its roof. She turned and leaped again, the windowpane coming closer and closer in her field of vision until she grabbed the concrete ledge beneath.
Anna pulled herself up. Her skin was tingling with sharp little pinpricks, and her temples began to throb. Holding onto the ledge was easy with gravity's pull reduced to almost nothing, but holding the Bending was extremely difficult.
She slammed her palm against the pane.
With the strength of a Justice Keeper, she pushed it inward, tearing the whole thing free of its mountings and creating a hole just large enough for her to squeeze through. A moment more. Just a moment more.
Anna wiggled through the gap.
She somersaulted across the carpeted floor, coming up on one knee and releasing her Bending. Instantly, the pain began to fade. She was alone, thank goodness, but that man in black would return.
This space might have been intended to be used as a bedroom, but it was devoid of furnishings of any kind. Blue carpet stretched from the window behind her to a door on the opposite wall. Through the opening, she could see what looked like a hallway, but she wasn't willing to take a closer look.
Anna got up.
The sound of footsteps announced the return of the man in black. He stepped into the room and froze, clearly surprised to find her there. One look, and she was certain this was the man Wesley Pennfield had sent.
He wore a pair of cargo pants with a pistol holstered on his belt and a shirt under a bulletproof vest. His face was hidden behind a dark mask with only thin slits for his eyes and mouth. “This,” he said in a grating voice, “is surprising.”
“I aim to please.”
Crossing his arms, he looked her up and down, then narrowed his eyes. “You have the Nassai with you?” he inquired. “I would hate to think I came all the way out here for nothing at all.”
“What's your name?”
“Excuse me?”
Squeezing her eyes shut, Anna shook her head in disgust. “I want to know your name!” she growled. “I can't pray for your soul if I do not know your name, and you're going to need my prayers.”
Clapping a gloved hand over his mouth, the man closed his eyes. He trembled with laughter. “You're a cocky one, aren't you?” he mumbled. “My name is Vincent, not that it will matter to you. Now, the Nassai.”
“Now which of us is the arrogant one?” Anna spat, fury boiling in her veins and surging through her muscles. It was difficult not to leap at the man and topple him to the floor. Anyone who threatened the lives of innocent people deserved no less. “You really think I'd bring the Nassai here?”
“You are far, far too predictable, Agent Lenai,” Vincent replied. “Allow me to clarify something. This is what we call a diversion. Did you think Mr. Pennfield wouldn't anticipate such duplicity? The purpose of this meeting was to get you away from Hunter so that we could take the Nassai from him.”
Anna bit her lip, a flush reddening her face. She lowered her eyes to the floor. “I guess I'm predictable then,” she said, stepping forward. “But that's not going to matter because Jack isn't.”
“Oh, please.”
Anna looked up to fix blue eyes on him, then squinted. “He'll elude you time and time again,” she said with a nod. “You'll spend the next three years hunting that man and you will never find him.”
Vincent smiled, then bowed his head to stare down at the floor. He covered his eyes with a hand. “We already have him, girl,” he muttered. “But take a moment and consider. We might be willing to let him go.”
“Oh, I see,” Anna shot back. “This is the moment where you tempt me by appealing to my gentle nature. 'Put on a black hat and we'll take care of your loved ones,' is that it? Tell me, how does the hero usually respond to that?”
“You have skills that we can use,” Vincent rasped. “You have proven yourself to be a capable warrior. Men like Denario Tarse are disposable, but you, you are not. The old ways are failing. Justice Keepers will not be able to stand against what's coming.”
“And what's that?”
“Come with me,” Vincent said, stepping forward. He extended a hand toward her in a gesture of friendship. “You will find out.”
Throwing her
head back, Anna stared up at the ceiling. She rolled her eyes. “Let's see, if I join the bad guys, I'll learn their terrible secret,” she mocked. “No thanks. I think I'd rather stay ignorant.”
Vincent studied her for a long moment, lips together, gray eyes calculating. “Very well then,” he said at last. “I've always wanted to test myself against a Justice Keeper.”
Lauren lived in a small brown-bricked house with black shingles on its slanted roof and hedges under the large window that looked into the living room. Bright afternoon sunlight prevented Jack from seeing inside, and that made him nervous. True, Carlson was a cop, but that didn't mean he was trustworthy.
Jack stepped inside to find the detective sitting on a couch opposite the large bay window, poised and composed in a fine gray suit. “Hunter,” the man said with a curt nod. “So good of you to come.”
A uniformed officer stood across from Jack in the doorway that led to the kitchen. Tall and imposing, he kept his arms crossed, his thick face twisted in a scowl. “Oh, don't mind Hutchinson there,” Carlson went on. “He's just here to make sure you don't go and do anything stupid.”
Lauren stood with her back turned, facing the TV in the corner. Was it a bad sign that she refused to look at him? It certainly left him feeling anxious. Don't let it show, he scolded himself. To these men, you're a picture of poise.
Jack smiled, then bowed his head to the Detective. “Carlson,” he said with a quick shrug of his shoulders. “Good to see you. To be honest, I'm glad you caught me. It makes me happy to know my tax dollars aren't going to waste.”
Oooh…bad move.
Harry Carlson lifted his chin and squinted at Jack. Was that the hint of a flush in his cheeks? “You've got a smart mouth, kid,” he said. “And a clever mind. It's a shame you're wasting it on crime.”
Baring his teeth, Jack kept his eyes glued to the floor. He let out a soft hiss. “I told you, Anna's trying to save people.” The words grated in his own ears. Why was it so hard to keep his voice steady? “Her people have a symbiotic relationship with a species called Nassai. Pennfield abducted one of these creatures.”
