by India Kells
Chapter 5
As he emerged from the State Street subway station, it was pitch dark and the wind had picked up with a vengeance. Luke knew that with his luck, sleet would be the next thing, although it could take the place of the cold shower he needed. Since his afternoon encounter, anger had simmered steadily and was ready to boil over. And the fact he couldn’t deny the undertone of attraction was even more infuriating.
Since he’d donned the civilized suit of a professor, this was the first time he’d felt almost unhinged. Once he arrived in his apartment, he’d go for a run, rain or hail, and if it didn’t dissipate the rest of the unsettling feelings that swarmed inside him, he’d go bar-hopping. A good, mindless fuck could be the answer to forgetting the woman, who, in a blink, brought his hopes incredibly high before crashing them down.
It took a few yards into his neighborhood of Near South Side to get out of his head and he didn’t like it. Not being aware of his surroundings was dangerous, even if this area couldn’t compare to where he’d fought as a Marine.
The first few stings of sleet hit his face, and Luke hunched into his coat, hands in his pockets, but this time, with raised awareness. It wasn’t that late, but there were fewer people than usual, and they hurried to their destinations, oblivious to one another.
Although everything appeared calm, something was off, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. The neighborhood wasn’t dangerous, but he knew that even the more upscale places could hold potential danger.
Only five minutes later, Luke realized his discomfort wasn’t about what happened earlier, and that new feeling intensified. Discreetly, he scanned the immediate area, but didn’t see anyone following him. Was he losing it entirely?
The freezing rain that had just started, stopped, but the wind didn’t lessen, whipping his face, making his eyes water just enough to blur his vision.
Luke knew his neighborhood, and even if his apartment was at least two streets over, he decided to make a detour. If he was wrong, he’d only freeze. If he were right, he might still continue breathing.
If he ran now, anyone following him would know he knew they were breathing down his neck, so he made an unplanned right turn between buildings. The alley was a direct path to busier streets, although, in this weather, nothing was certain.
Ten steps into the alley, Luke launched himself into a full run. He thought about his cell phone in his messenger bag, but who could he call? Instead, he saved his breath and looked back. There was someone behind him, one, maybe two in pursuit. How he regretted leaving his gun at home; with two against one, a gun would have been useful.
As he approached the street straight ahead, a car blocked his path. Skidding to a stop in the faint light of the alley, he weighed his options, and none of them looked good.
The men behind him had slowed to a walk, and two more had gotten out of the car, heading in his direction. Acting on pure instinct, Luke noticed an old ladder leading to the fire escapes. Only one way out, and that would be up. Taking two steps back, he exploded, and cursed as his left hand skimmed the first rung, but his right hand closed around the rusted tube. His shoulders screamed as he hauled himself up and he gripped higher rungs until he could hook his feet to help pull himself up. The people after him may have hesitated, but by the shouts mixing through the howling wind, it wasn’t for very long.
The metal structure winced when added climbers came after him. He could have jumped into one of the balconies, but it was clear they hadn’t fared any better than the ladder itself. Only one destination was left: the rooftop.
Hissing through his clenched jaw, Luke gave one final push to reach the top and then looked around. There was nothing to conceal him, and he couldn’t risk remaining in the open for long. He was more surprised they hadn’t shot at him yet. With no time to waste, he willed his body for one more effort and ran to the opposite end of the rood. This time, when he heard shouts behind him, he didn’t look and increased his speed to jump to the other building.
The landing jarred every bone in his body, but he rolled, absorbing some of the impact and stood. This time, the building was wider, and two ventilation units, as well as two escape exits, could be used to block their view of him.
Even in the night, it was clear he wouldn’t be able to pull off a second jump, not with the buildings split by a street, so one of the escape doors was his only option. The trick was to choose the one that would open.
He almost thanked the heavens when he saw that the exit he’d chosen was made of worn wood. One kick and he was in.
His training kicked in on the way down, and he hugged the walls, trying to keep as invisible and noiseless as possible, though it soon became clear it would take much more than luck to escape. As he peered up, a sound reverberated from below. Someone was trying to break in through the door at street level. How many were there?
As he saw three men climbing from the bottom of the staircase, it was the sound of gunfire that made him push against the wall. Trapped, Luke went for the closest door and found it locked. He thought it led to an apartment building, but even though the building was empty for renovations, it was clearly secured.
Luke braced in a fighting stance, but the attackers above him didn’t head down, and he soon realized that the shooting wasn’t in his direction. Strangely, there was something going on outside.
A loud crash from downstairs made him curse as footsteps came running up the stairs. The only advantage he had was that they couldn’t attack more than two by two, which gave him a chance, if only a slim one.
There was no more time to consider the strange circumstances when the first man reached him. With at least 30 pounds on him, Luke moved forward and tried to tackle him, pushing as hard as he could to block the others. Whatever was happening upstairs, he had to find a way out, through all of them if need be. After delivering a couple of blows, the burn from climbing up the stairs finally got the best of him and he stumbled back.
Two men seized his arms and pushed him against the wall as a third one rained blows on him. Kicking didn’t do any kind of damage.
His entire body strained with everything he had, but the beating was slowly draining his strength. Panic was settling in and Luke felt like drowning when he saw something fall behind his captors, once and then twice. Through his blurred vision, he realized that bodies were dropping from above, and he wasn’t the only one to notice. The crew stopped tenderizing him and although two of them still prevented him from moving, the other glanced up and fired at whoever was upstairs.
Despite his aching ribs, he knew the distraction was his only chance to escape. Drawing in a deep breath, Luke snatched one arm out of their hold and turned the situation to his advantage. He’d almost overpowered the first attacker when he heard a characteristic click behind his head.
“Don’t move a muscle if you don’t want a perpetual headache, pal.”
Even if he hated it, he lifted his hands, and despite his brain working overtime, he couldn’t see any options, any weakness he could exploit to get out of this mess alive.
All the possibilities, all the analysis came to a halt when gunfire sliced through the commotion.
Luke expected to feel pain, maybe fall to his knees as he was dying, but instead, the tall man behind him tumbled like a tree, blood trickling from the exit wound in his head.
When he turned, he saw it—him. The Vigilante was halfway down the steps, his face in darkness under the hood, his gun lowering.
Without knowing if he should bring his hands down or not, and despite the pain radiating from his face and side, Luke was transfixed as the figure slowly advanced through the fleeting light. Before he got off the stairs, the Vigilante stopped and spoke for the first time.
“Are you all right?”
Luke immediately heard the modulator disguising his voice, but it didn’t completely shadow the hint of concern. That alone was enough to lower his guard, if only a little, as killing wasn’t on the menu for the dark figure. “Nothing an ic
e bath won’t cure. I’ve had worse.”
“No doubt.”
A frown etched deeper on his face at the Vigilante’s remark, and he was about to ask what was going on when the Vigilante swayed a little, and he saw him touch his side ever so briefly before turning his head as if listening to something.
“We need to move, more men are arriving and this time, we’d need an army to contain them. Follow me.”
The Vigilante didn’t wait for his reply and dashed past him, going down. Luke should have hesitated, turned back, and tried to find a different way out, but what was he running from? He had no known enemies, and apart from what happened in the reservoir, he couldn’t see what he’d done to bring danger to his door. He was in the dark, blind, and only one person seemed to have the answers, so he followed him.
The Vigilante didn’t slow down for him, and headed to the back of the building, away from the broken-down door, stepping over two dead bodies from whoever was after them. That man was a cold-blooded killer and had saved his life. In Luke’s mind, it was a paradox that didn’t bode well. People who took justice into their own hands were bound to become uglier monsters than the criminals they were pursuing.
The Vigilante exited without turning back. Luke followed, if not because he’d saved his life, then to get the answers for this mess. The Vigilante was running now, and Luke was trying to keep up, his breathing shallow and the pain barely manageable each time his feet hit the ground.
Just as they arrived at the edge of the building, the Vigilante stopped and gestured for him to do the same, a well-known military signal that he immediately recognized.
Less than a foot away, Luke noticed how much shorter the Vigilante was than he’d expected. In the tunnels and then going down the stairs, he’d appeared taller, or maybe it was the aura surrounding his stature that gave the impression. Nonetheless, being so close now, it was as if he could almost dwarf him, but it was only an illusion as the energy, the power emanating from the suited stranger was warning enough that he shouldn’t be messed with, years of combat training had taught Luke that.
A touch to his chest confirmed the Vigilante was listening to someone using another device Luke knew well and raised another question to file away until later.
The Vigilante waited a beat, and then two, and lifted his hand to tell Luke to stand by. As if on cue, he broke into a run again, this time keeping the shadows as close to the buildings as possible before disappearing into the next alley. Before he turned, Luke looked back and saw three vehicles screeching to a halt in front of the building they’d exited seconds ago. Yells and the sound of guns firing told him they hadn’t been fast enough to go unnoticed. In the other alley, the Vigilante was entering a dark car. He didn’t know what to expect, but through the gleaming lines, he recognized a modified Bugatti Veyron. The matte paint job made it blend in, to the point of almost disappearing.
“Get in if you want to live, professor.”
As another question popped into his head, the use of his title made Luke move and get into the car just in time as the men appeared before them. Half expecting the Vigilante to reverse, he had another surprise when the machine exploded forward like lightning, heading straight at the men firing in front of them, like a roaring weapon.
They scattered like butterflies, all but one who tumbled over the car in a sickening agony of crushed bones and bleeding flesh.
“Put your seatbelt on.”
The command took a moment to compute until Luke realized that the Vigilante had buckled up, and that meant he expected worse to come. The Bugatti moved like a steel panther through the streets but didn’t have a chance to gain distance from the men behind them. One look in the mirror told Luke they were driving muscle cars, not as fast as their bullet, but unless they had a straight stretch of road, the game wasn’t over yet.
Chapter 6
Sloane felt the professor’s gaze on her hidden face with a burning intensity. However, at the speed they were going, if she got distracted, she’d have an accident before they’d made it a full mile.
She didn’t have to check to guess their tail wanted in their pants in the worst way possible and that made her bitchy. That, and the fact her side pulsed with pain. Thanks to her body armor, she would only have bruises, but at the moment, she could’ve done without them.
The professor had taken a bad beating, but Sloane hadn’t had time to make sure it wasn’t serious. The way he walked showed discomfort, but apart from that, he would most probably survive.
“Who are you? Why are people trying to kill me?”
No surprise that Luke’s compliance hadn’t lasted until they were safe.
“They aren’t trying to kill you, but to kidnap you.” And with that answer, she took a sharp left, the tires sliding on the cold, wet street until she got them back under control again.
“What do you mean? I’m a university professor. I don’t have any enemies, and I’m not a criminal.”
The way he said the word with such disdain was a barely veiled comment at her.
“No, you’re not. They’re not after you because of what you’ve done, but because of what you know, what you could do for them. You know the tunnels under Chicago better than anyone else, and these men want you to tell them all about it. You’ve dismissed them long enough. Now they’re out of patience.”
Silence stretched. “The emails, the constant requests for me to consult for them, that woman.”
“No! Not... her. Not her.” Sloane winced behind her mask when she reacted too strongly at the accusing tone. “The woman who visited you is an ally.”
The professor wasn’t convinced. “You mean she wasn’t there to learn about the tunnels like the others?”
Each word must be chosen very carefully. The two of them were on edge, and the professor had to be convinced to tip the odds in their favor. “We didn’t know about the other requests until after that. She came to you because we need to learn about the tunnels faster than they can. We’re here to stop them.”
“Who is ‘we’?”
Not a question Sloane wanted to touch with a ten-foot pole. “The only thing you need to know is who ‘they’ are. They distribute Phantom. Have you heard of it?”
As she suspected, he snarled at the name. “That vile poison? We’ve had two students at the university die from it. Another is in a coma, with little chance of waking.” A hesitation trailed between them. “You’re tracking Phantom?”
Sloane checked her mirror and smashed the gas to run a red light. Horns blared, but she ignored them. “We’re tracking what is endangering the city. That gangrene is about to spread even more, especially if they expand their distribution through the underground. There are too many means of ingress and egress. Even if we put every cop the city has on each entry point, we’d still risk missing most of them. That can’t happen.”
The professor remained silent, and Sloane hoped it was him thinking hard about what she’d said and his next words being that he would gladly help them take those fuckers down.
“I saw you in the underground, tracking those men, the ones you said were the traffickers. I saw you kill them in that building earlier.”
It took all her self-control not to turn her head and look at him in astonishment. He’d been the man in the tunnels? The one who’d saved her? The one she let go? However, it was the tone he used that diverted her, but before she could form a sentence, he continued. “You’re a killer, no better than the men after us.”
His words stung more than she cared to admit. “Yes, I am, and I’ll be one until the city is safe from the scum poisoning it. If I don’t shoot them first, innocents will die. I’d rather end their lives one by one, instead of seeing a single citizen of Chicago suffer because I didn’t have the courage to pull the trigger.”
“And that’s murder?”
That alone made her snap. “And why did you kill the third man about to shoot me? Was it from the goodness of your heart? If I’m the killer you so despise, why didn�
��t you aim at me?”
“Hey, Sloane. Sorry to interrupt, but maybe that’s not the right way to convince him to help us.”
Lance’s voice in her ear did little to calm her down. She wasn’t a fool, and the conversation was going sideways fast. The professor didn’t respond to her question, and Sloane touched her chest to answer her friend. “Get us out of here now.”
The only noise on the other end of the comm was a grunt, but she knew help would come, and the tell-tale sirens in the distance was her cue. “Hang in there, professor. I’ll get you out of the current mess you’re in.”
They soon arrived at Little Village, but before she could hop on the 55, the road had to be clear.
“The boys in blue are to your right, barging in like the fucking cavalry. Just don’t get cut off.”
No way she would let that happen. Despite the narrow street and traffic lights she was burning, it would be impossible to keep weaving at full throttle without crashing into something.
As expected, at the next intersection, blue and red flooded the area. Sloane swerved fast enough to avoid being hit by the first squad car, and as she knew would happen, two of the bad guys smashed into the arriving swarm of police vehicles.
The third tried to drive around, but there were too many to bypass, and she took the opportunity to push the Bugatti by exploiting all it could give her, distancing herself from the accident and the men after them.
A minute later, she merged onto the 55 and flew. The silence inside was deafening, but not for long as in a matter of minutes, she exited to get to the edge of Summit.
Careful to slow down and keep a low profile, she turned into a side street lined with shops and a strip mall, and turned again into the repair shop she was looking for. The garage door was already open and silently closed behind them. When the engine died, and the headlights turned off, they were in almost perfect darkness.
“Is this where you kill me?” The snarl of sarcasm was revealing from a man who’d seen death up close. Instead of answering, Sloane pulled out a key from her chest pocket and handed it to him. “What’s this?”
