Ronnie disagreed.
She placed a hand on the view-wall so the interface could scan her prints for authorization. The tint on the inside dissipated, and the sound dampeners disabled, allowing Alex to see and hear beyond her room. Still in plank form, she turned her head and gave Ronnie a crimson-eyed stare as if trying to turn her into stone.
"What do you want, pig?"
Ronnie folded her arms and smiled. "I'm told you're the only one who talks."
"My sisters don't need to waste time dealing with state-controlled bureaucrats. We won't be in here long. SAUL will have us back on the streets in no time."
"You were picked up with a massive cache of military-grade firearms. You know as well as I do that if Neo York is strict about one thing, it's gun control. Most goons stick to other weapons to avoid the rap, but you Warmongers love to live up to your name, don't you?"
Alex dropped the plank, planted her feet into the floor, and slowly stood, movements sinuous as a snake. Walking with purposeful steps, she stopped just short of the invisible barrier, blackened lips twisted in a sneer.
"Don't know anything about guns. We're a legally hired security detail that caught a bum deal when Vigil showed up and assaulted everyone on the premises. Funny how you pigs didn't show up until after he left."
"This isn't about Vigil. We arrested two dozen members of the Warmongers, all with priors. Most have already admitted their involvement and implicated you and your sisters."
Alex sneered. "You pigs are funny when you lie. No one's been implicated. The Warmongers you arrested aren't saying anything, and you knew your case was on shaky ground the moment you showed up to mop up Vigil's mess. Talk about a complete violation of rights. I bet everyone you brought in walks by the end of the week."
The girl is good, Ronnie thought. It was a welcome surprise, something she could control if she played her cards right. "I wouldn't be so sure. Vigil might have been there, but no one other than the perps we arrested can validate his so-called attack. So as far as the law is concerned, he was never there at all. That leaves you and your sisters holding the bag on a gun sale gone wrong, with a lot of bodies laying at your feet. Looks like you're headed for a one-way trip to the mines on Mars. Think they'll care about keeping your little family together on the Red Planet? Here's a hint: hell to the no."
For the first time, uncertainty flashed across Alex's face. "You're bluffing, cop."
"Oh, not 'pig?' We're making progress. Now, let's make a deal. Give me what I want, and maybe you and your fam can cool your heels in prison right here on Earth. Maybe even get out of the pen while you're still young and pretty."
Alex studied her for a moment, red eyes glimmering. "What do you want?"
Isaac interrupted before Ronnie opened her mouth. "A word with you, Captain."
Muting the cell, she turned around. "Right now? Are you serious?"
He tapped his holoband. "Commissioner's been trying to contact you."
"I turned my ringer off for this. What the hell does he want?"
"He wants you upstairs, Ronnie. Right now."
"What? Screw that. I'm right on the verge of getting this hard case to crack."
"You really want to give him an excuse to give you the third, Ronnie? If he's calling you up now, you better believe it's to kick the hornet's nest."
She sighed. "Damn it."
Unmuting the cell, she turned to Alex. "Something came up. I'll be back."
Alex's eyebrows lifted. "What? I didn't spill, cop. What about the deal?"
"You think about that, Alex. Think about it real hard. I hear they're looking to make examples out of people right now. If I were you, I'd think about the future."
"Where are you going? Come back here, cop. We're not finished."
"I got things to do, Alex. If I find time, I'll get back to you."
She muted and tinted the cell, leaving Alex pounding the surface in frustration. As she walked away with Isaac, she shook her head.
"Is it me, or is Miller's interruption right on time?"
"Coincidences do happen, Ronnie. Don't let it get you all paranoid."
"Come on, Isaac. You, of all people, should know how things go around here when you dig too deep. This better not be a waste of time."
Ⓥ
The sound of tapping woke Jett up from a restless sleep. He sat up, rubbing his temples. The tapping sound never stopped. It was like a mechanical woodpecker drilling a staccato beat against the side of his shipping container apartment. Gritting his teeth, he rolled out of bed. Still in the jogging pants and tank top he went to bed in, he stumbled to the door, disengaged the triple locks, and shoved it open. Glancing up, he saw the source of the irritating sound.
Mira sat on the roof of the shipping container, bobbing her head and tapping the back of her heels to the beat of whatever music she listened to on her datcom. It was the first time in a while that he'd seen her in her street clothes: a hooded t-shirt with some anime character on the front, denim shorts, thigh-high striped socks, and oversized sneakers. The shoes had steel plates on the toecaps and heels, explaining where the tapping sounds came from. Her holovisor goggles were pushed back on her dark hair, glinting in the harsh sunlight.
He shielded his eyes from the glare. "Stay up there too long, and you'll burn your legs. It's gonna get hot soon."
"It's already hot, yo." Dropping off the ledge, she landed on his narrow balcony with athletic ease. "'Bout time you woke up. Started to think I'd have to call your cop girlfriend to check on you."
"She's not my girlfriend."
With a derisive snort, Mira brushed past him and entered his apartment. "Not what I hear, yo. I got solid intel that says she stops by to see you at the YH every chance she gets."
"Come on in, by the way," he said. "Sounds like you've been talking to Zoe."
She peered into his fridge and sniffed. "Yeah, I dropped by."
"That's good. I know she was happy to see you."
"At least somebody is."
Folding his arms, he leaned against the wall while she ransacked his kitchen for sandwich ingredients. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Means you been acting funny."
"Listen, Mira—"
"No, you listen." She glared at him, eyes glistening. "We're partners now. Doesn't mean we don't care about each other."
He sighed. "Is that what you think? Of course I care about you, Mira. But this isn't fun and games—it's life and death."
"I know what it is, yo."
"Do you?" He stalked over, jaw trembling. "Do you know what it's like to hold the body of someone you love and watch as the life fades from their eyes? Have your hands ever been slicked with red because you couldn't stop the bleeding in time? You ever watch your last remaining family member die in some damned contraption that exploded in orbit? Or every last member of your team torn to shreds right in front of your eyes? Have you? Have you?"
She flinched when he shouted the last words into her face. "No."
"Then don't tell me you know what death is. You have no idea." Dead faces flashed across his memory: relatives, friends, teammates, lost loves. He slumped onto a barstool, rubbing a hand across his head. "You have no idea."
"Hey." She placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, 'kay? Didn't mean nothing by it."
He lifted his head. "Jax. Headshot. Rosy. Beef. Bozo. Jisei." His voice trembled at the last name. "Do you know who they were?"
"No."
"They were the last of my unit. The Hellrazors. Raise hell, die well, is what we'd say to each other. Because we knew. We knew death was always around the corner waiting for us." A tear slid down his cheek. "It still didn't prepare me for seeing all of them die in front of me."
Mira said nothing, face stunned.
He exhaled a shuddering breath. "I could go on. My brother, Marcus: dead in the Skygate collapse. My father Nathan: dead in a blaze of gunfire. My friends: dead in the Imperial War. My daughter…" His voice trailed off. "My daughter…"
Sobs choked his voice, racked his chest until Mira cradled his head in her arms, tears mingling with his own.
"I'm sorry, Jett. I … I didn't know."
He scrubbed his eyes. "I know. Maybe it's my fault. I try to hide it. Run from it. But the pain is always there, waiting for me when I close my eyes. Everyone I knew and loved died before I was ever placed in hibernation. I'm the last of my family, the last of my team. I watched them die, understand? I watched them die. So when you chose to become Spitfire—which is your right—I had to ready myself for one more death. Your death."
Her eyes widened. "That's not gonna happen."
"You don't know that. You haven't been where I've been and seen what I've seen. I can go down in this war with no regrets because I'm already a ghost. I tried to keep myself focused, stay free of attachments. But there's already you, Ronnie, Arthur, Qhawa, the kids at the Youth Haven … the list keeps getting longer. And with every name comes the dreaded anticipation that something might happen to any of you because of me. And I have to carry that weight, okay? I have to carry it."
"We have to carry it," she said. "Because we're partners. All of us. Like a wolf pack—stronger together because we watch each other's backs."
He looked up at her, seeing the optimism of youth, the flame that burned so brightly. So carelessly. "That easy, huh?"
"Yeah."
He slowly nodded. "Okay. You come by for a reason, by the way? Or was it just to mess up my sleep?"
She bit into the sandwich and spoke around a mouthful. "Got a name for you. Might help out with tracking Janus."
"How do you know I'm tracking him?"
She smiled innocently. "I'm your partner, remember?"
"Yeah, okay. Keep your secrets. What's the name?"
She took a wary look around, dipped her finger in the ketchup package, and spelled out a word on the table.
Styx.
He stroked his goatee and stared at the red letters. "Huh. More Greek mythology."
"Greek?"
"Yeah. Like Janus. In mythology, he was the god of wealth and passageways. Styx was the river between Earth and the Underworld. The dead were rowed across the waters to the Underworld."
Her eyebrows raised. "You know a lot about this stuff, huh?"
He smiled. "I went through a phase when I was growing up. Saw the movies; made me want to learn more. Read a lot of books about the titans and gods. Not sure what the connection to Janus is, though."
She used a napkin to wipe the words away. "Well, find out, yo. It's important."
"I will." He pointed at her sandwich. "You gonna just rob me of my food or make one of those for me?"
Taking another bite, she gave him a sly smile. "Maybe."
"Good. Package it up. We're gonna have to eat on the go."
"We? You taking me with?"
"That's what partners do, right? So grab your work gear, Spitfire. We're going to kick some doors down."
Ⓥ
Ronnie knew things were worse than she thought when she entered Commissioner Miller's office. The fact that Isaac was prevented from attending was warning enough, but even then, she didn't expect to see the mayor of Neo York waiting for her in the Commissioner's cushioned office chair.
Mark Harrington was pale and bald as an eggshell with dark, deep-set eyes and fine lines etched across his temples and cheeks from the enhancements installed to accelerate information processing. He looked at Ronnie with casual curiosity, as one might examine an especially striking insect. His dark suit was custom-tailored, his shoes gleaming, his slender hands covered by tight leather gloves.
Commissioner Miller stood to the side like a bodyguard, pinched face looking even more predatory than usual. He wore his ceremonial uniform as if a reminder of who he was. The intimidating atmosphere was nearly stifling as both men fixed their attention on her.
She forced a smile on her face. "You wanted to see me?"
Miller's face soured further when he gestured. "Have a seat, Captain."
"I'll stand, thanks. Figure I won't be here for long."
Mayor Harrington's lips hinted at amusement. "As you wish, Captain. You're here because I wanted a personal update on your lack of progress." His voice was pitch-perfect, suited for orating persuasive statements and stirring speeches.
"We're working hard on pushing the syndicates, sir. Going up the ranks with our arrests and expecting a breakthrough soon."
He gestured impatiently. "I wasn't talking about the syndicates. I'm talking about the Vigilant."
She blinked. "What?"
"The Vigilant. You know—the criminals currently inciting acts of violence across the city, catching innocent citizens in the crossfire."
She cut a glance at Miller, who wore a vindictive smirk on his face. "I'm not sure I'm following the logic, sir."
He leaned forward as if eager to clarify. "The logic is simple, Captain. The syndicates are the long game. They're embedded into the system, and it will take time to eradicate their influence entirely. Your insistence on applying constant pressure is exasperating the situation to the point where the cure is worse than the disease. By allowing unruly citizens to take the law into their own hands, the RCE has been fanning the flames of a city on fire. This has to end. Your strategy hasn't been working, so the Commissioner and I have implemented a new one."
"With all due respect, why isn't Chief Moore briefing me on this?"
Commissioner Miller scowled. "Because I know damn well that Moore allows you to bend the rules. Well, not this time. You're hearing this directly from me, so there will be no misunderstandings. You might not be used to falling in line and doing your job to the letter, but no one is exempt, Captain. If you want to keep that rank, you'd better wise up and do as you're told."
She barely managed to maintain a neutral expression. "Yes, sir. May I ask what my assignment is?"
Harrington sat back in his chair with a relaxed smile. "You're to head up a division of special tactics officers. Your objectives are to infiltrate and dismantle the Cult of V. Find out who this Sentry person is and arrest her for inciting civil unrest. But more importantly, your unit is to track down and hunt the vigilantes stirring up so much trouble. We've created a top ten list of the most notorious lawbreakers. You don't have to guess who's at the top of the list."
He flicked the bulletin from his holoband to the wall screen. Ronnie recognized most of the names under the surveillance photos or composite illustrations. Sentry, Batty, Spitfire, Fox, Hound, and others. The second most-wanted was the Templar-styled Heretic. And like the Mayor stated, number one was no surprise at all.
Vigil.
Harrington studied her face as if expecting a reaction. She didn't give him one. He smiled as if reading her mind.
"Think of this as an opportunity, Captain Banks. You've made a good name for yourself on the force, and the press loves you. You were able to find an excellent candidate for the Youth Haven program as well. I wasn't sure what to make of a blank slate like Jett Wolfe, but he's done a fantastic job."
She gave him a sidelong glance. His tone was almost playful, as if they shared a secret. He was baiting her somehow, but she couldn't figure out what his game was.
"Thank you, sir."
"I'm saying that you have an eye for talent. This is a high-profile job, so I expect your squad to be top-notch. I know you won't disappoint me, Captain."
Grim-faced, Commissioner Miller gestured for her to raise her wrist. A wave of his holoband over hers transferred her new orders and division transfer.
He gave her a sharp-eyed stare. "Congratulations, Captain Banks. Needless to say, we'll be watching your progress closely."
Ⓥ
In Chief Moore's office, her hands trembled around her cup of steaming coffee. That last thing she needed was a boost to her already racing adrenaline, but she couldn't help it. "The expressions on their faces … you wouldn't believe it. Like vultures looking at their next meal."
Moore raised an eyebrow from where he sat behind
his desk. "Oh, you'd be surprised at the things I'd believe. But look at the bright side—at least it wasn't a disciplinary action."
She stared into the dark contents of her cup. "Wasn't it, though? I was making progress with these syndicate hits. We captured some high-profile players the other night, and at least one of them was ready to talk."
"You'll drive yourself crazy thinking about what could have been, Banks. Take the new assignment and do the best you can. Knowing you, I'm sure this city will be vigilante-free in a matter of weeks. Then you can get back to business."
"Of what—running around in circles? Every time I get close to uncovering something, I get shut down. Don't tell me that's a coincidence."
Moore shrugged. "Maybe it's not. But you can't fight City Hall, and you can't burn out trying to save the world, Banks. I've seen plenty of officers do it, and I don't want you to be just another meteor that flashes brightly in the sky before disintegrating."
She raised her head with a bemused smile. "That's awful poetic, chief."
"Yeah, I moonlight as an angsty writer in my spare time."
"You don't have any spare time."
"Exactly. Look—I get it. It's a detour, something to throw you off of whatever you've been digging at. But I've taken a look at your assignment details. You know what I found?"
"No clue."
"You're to head up the new division, Captain. Doesn't say a word about actually setting boots on the ground."
Sipping the coffee, her eyes narrowed in thought. "So … you're saying I don't necessarily have to drop my current investigation while I run this new division."
"I'm not saying anything, Captain. Just letting you know you have options. A good leader will delegate, after all. And if you find a capable officer to lead your new unit, you'll have more time to pursue other matters."
Vigil: Inferno Season (The Cyber Knight Chronicles Book 2) Page 21
