“Something the matter, sir?” Melrose asked.
“Shut the fuck up,” he roared. Melrose opened his mouth but closed it at the sight of Marr’s crazed expression.
Had he left it in his cruiser? No, he had it with him when he’d interrogated Hall. That meant it could only be one place.
Moretti.
He ran over to the first officer he could see. He grabbed at him, pulling him away from his colleagues. “Listen, the woman has Hall. She’s taken my cruiser. Contact control... tell them to access my cruiser’s tracking chip. The ident is 442ZX5,” he said, almost shouting.
The officer stared dumbly at him. “Sir?”
“I said, the fucking ident is 442ZX5,” he screamed. “Now, fucking do it. That’s an order.”
When he’d woken, he didn’t think the situation could get any worse. He thought of Faulks and the choice words that would spew from the fucker’s mouth when he found out how much he’d fucked up — especially after the way their last meeting had ended.
He was wrong. This was worse than anything he could possibly imagine.
~
She was lying on her back; her fragile brain and battered body a miasma of pain and misery. Wherever she was, she appeared to be moving at a higher speed than the gentle buffeting her body experienced at sporadic intervals would otherwise suggest. She sensed it in the muted sounds all around her, as though hearing them underwater; a scream; the blaring of a cruiser’s horn; the screeching of tyres – all gone as soon as she’d heard them. Each noise was accompanied by the constant whip of something cutting through air at high velocity. It was a strange sensation, enough to make her want to puke – a physiological act she felt she’d overdone these last few hours.
She was suddenly thrown to one side, jarring her neck and rattling her teeth. She moaned as her shoulder flared in agony. Her head throbbed as though it were trapped in a large press; whose pressure contracted and retracted, exasperating her nausea. She smacked her lips, tasting copper, the acrid tang sending her stomach into debilitating spasms. She must have bitten her tongue or cut her gums on her teeth, she thought, attempting to curl up into a ball.
Her vision was also coming in waves, playing events in flashes, like fractured memories. The last thing she remembered clearly in her mind was Banks landing on top of her, his bulk driving all air and sense out of her. Then…
She lurched forward abruptly, as whatever was carrying her slowed its speed exponentially. A small moan erupted from her lips as she gripped her head, almost certain her brains were beginning to leak from her ears. A curse roared from someone a few feet from where she lay. Her eyes darted in search of its origin, her fragmented vision clearing enough to discern where the hell she was.
She was lying on the back seat of a cruiser – possibly Banks’. She squinted, trying to see if it was the spook sitting behind the wheel. It wasn’t the spook. The driver, wrestling with the steering wheel, was garbed all in black; a hood covering their head. The driver, having presumably sensed her return to consciousness, swivelled round to get a look at her. Whoever Hall might have guessed was her chauffeur, this was the last person she expected.
All words escaped her, as the woman made eye contact with Hall. She appeared to be wearing a mask, which in Hall’s opinion, made her look a lot more sadistic. How the fuck had she ended up in a cruiser with Sanctum-One’s most-wanted? She’d been attempting to escape Banks, then… for some reason… Charlie Deacon came to mind. Had he been there? Or was it something her scattered brains had conjured up?
She was sure, and for the moment. It was hardly relevant as she now had bigger problems to deal with. She was now alone in a cruiser – clearly on the run – with a woman who’d pointed a gun in her face… very recently.
Her mind raced with questions. Had she been rescued by Moretti? Kidnapped? Was she being taken to her death? Had Moretti discovered she’d uncovered certain elements from her murky past – scratching the surface on what had led to her son being executed and her subsequent transformation into ‘the woman’? It was certainly something which had caused the deaths of people she knew. She internally winced as the images of Mercer and Reid came to mind; their blood-spattered bodies lying in Mercer’s home. She had no doubt there was a bigger picture to whatever happened to Moretti – possibly a cover-up of sorts. But the fact of the matter was, Moretti herself had killed a lot of people – some of whom in cold blood.
And Hall was now lying on the backseat of a stolen cruiser… alone with this killer.
Moretti tried to reach over to her. She said something, but Hall couldn’t make it out, too engrossed with the gloved hand grasping at her. She scurried back into the backrest of the seat, attempting to get as far away from her as possible.
Before she could scream, the woman turned back around and pulled the wheel to the left, sending Hall sliding to the right-hand side of the vehicle. Her head thumped against the armrest. She cried out as her surroundings swam in her vision. Gritting her teeth into a snarl, she pulled herself up to a sitting position just as the cruiser slowed to a stop. She watched as Moretti got out and pulled the door closest to Hall open. She tried to fight the hands that hauled her out of the cruiser, but it was no use – she didn’t think she could match Moretti in a fight on a good day.
Then, in their ensuing struggle, Moretti stumbled back giving Hall all the opening she needed. She pushed Moretti with all the strength she could muster and made a break for it. Unfortunately, her legs were a little weaker than she’d thought as they gave out on her. She dropped onto the unforgiving concrete; the rough ground scraping into her palms raw. She rolled onto her back as Moretti reached down and grabbed her. Hall struggled, swinging punches in every direction. She managed to land a feeble punch to Moretti’s jaw, but it was quickly reciprocated as Moretti dealt her a slap to the face. Her head whipped to the side in a spray of spittle.
“Will you calm the fuck down,” Moretti bellowed, flipping Hall onto her stomach. She grabbed both of Hall’s wrists and wrenched them behind her back.
Hall craned her head around to face Moretti; her face red with rage. “If you’re going to kill me, just get it over with,” she spat.
Moretti leaned in close so that her lips brushed against her ear. “If I was going to kill you, you’d be lying in a pool of your own blood in that alleyway beside two dead cops and a dead spook.” She took a moment to catch her breath, then let go. She took a few steps back, giving Hall some room. “As is the case, thanks to your friend, there’s only one unconscious cop and a spook who’ll have a nasty headache when he comes around.”
Hall opened her mouth to speak then closed it. ‘Friend?’ She rolled onto her back, then sat up. She inspected her bloodied hands and winced at the sight of the ragged flesh. She raised her head and glared at the hooded spectre standing before her. “You didn’t kill Banks?” she asked.
Moretti raised her eyebrows in question. “Is he your friend? The one who helped you?”
Hall snorted. “Friend? I haven’t got any friends. Banks is the reason I’m in this mess.” She paused, thinking. “Technically, you’re the reason I’m in this mess. If I’d just left well enough alone, I’d probably be behind my desk at the moment, instead of sitting here with Sanctum-One’s most wanted.”
Moretti bunched her fists, a dark expression crossing her features. “And I’d be spending time with my son.” Hall didn’t have an answer for that. A small glimmer of guilt began to climb up her spine. Moretti took a step closer and knelt down. “They’ll pay for what they did… they’ll all pay.”
Hall gazed at Moretti – this woman gone to hell, only to return in the guise of the vengeful horror looming over her. Hall looked into her sad eyes and found that she pitied her more than anything. “Is that all you care about? Killing?” she whispered
Moretti sighed. “Spare me your pity. I’m not going to argue with you… but yes, that’s all that’s driving me. I want to make sure I put them all in the ground before I join them.” She r
ose to her feet and looked up to the sky. She sighed audibly. From the small waver in her voice, Hall suspected Moretti didn’t fully believe her own statement.
“Then you’re no better than them,” she said.
Moretti laughed; a throaty cackle which chilled Hall’s blood. She placed her hands on her hips. “You think you know it all, don’t you?” she asked in a mocking tone. Hall presumed the question was rhetorical, so she held her tongue. “Believe me when I tell you, Hall, you have no idea what you’ve got yourself into. I was a cop once… just like you. I stumbled across something I shouldn’t have, just like you did. The difference between us is that I got dragged to NewHaven, to be toyed with until I lost all sense of the world. If I told you half of what they did to me, you’d piss yourself with fear. I lost my boy and my life. They made me what I am. They created ‘the woman’. I find it ironic she’ll be their downfall.”
Hall got to her feet and faced the fierce woman; all in black, save for the red stripes running down her body. Aside from the fact her career as an investigator was finished, the intuitive part of her – the part that had to know the questions to all the answers – screamed at her to push Moretti for more information. “I know you were a cop. I know there was a coverup. But why? Why was your son found dead in an alleyway, next to a gun with your prints all over them?”
Moretti looked as though she was about to answer, when they were interrupted by the distant sound of sirens. She flinched in fear; panic crippling her insides. If she was found in the company of Moretti, it would be all the leverage they needed to pin Alon and the captain’s deaths on her. And who could blame them, at the moment it didn’t look good. She glanced at Moretti, who didn’t look to be concerned in the slightest. “They’re coming, what do we do now?”
Moretti rolled her eyes, as though the steady arrival of Sanctum-One’s finest was a minor inconvenience. “I was hoping your friend’s diversion would’ve held the cavalry off a tad longer. Deacon I think his name was.”
Deacon.
In the cruiser, she’d assumed it was her battered mind struggling to grasp at reality. When Moretti had said ‘friend’, she was baffled as to who she was referring to. But it was Deacon’s voice she’d heard before she’d lost consciousness. She took a step closer to Moretti. “Charlie? Where is he now? What happened to him?” she asked, the questions spewing out of her in a torrent of worry for her friend. If he’d helped her escape, he didn’t truly believe she was responsible for the deaths of Reid and Mercer. She found his belief in her innocence a small ray of sunshine amidst the shit she was in.
Moretti held her hands up. “I can’t answer those questions for certain. Deacon was attempting to stop the spook from taking you to NewHaven. The spook and his partner – a hug whale of a man – had other ideas. He gave me enough of a distraction to take the two of them out.” Her eyes flicked toward the direction of the sirens. “Though, it’s possible the spook woke up early and was able to provide the SPD with the tracker ident on his cruiser.”
“If he stayed where he was, he won’t be safe. Not after helping you.”
“I gave him instructions to follow. If he goes to the address, I gave him he’ll be alright.”
Hall narrowed her eyes, still finding it difficult to believe she was telling the truth. “What do we do now? There’s nowhere for us to go.”
“You’ll come with us, we can take you to safety,” a voice called behind them. Hall turned. Three people stood a few yards away; two men, and a woman. From Moretti’s reaction, she’d been expecting them.
“Took your time, Brooks,” she said with a scowl.
“Who the fuck are they,” Hall asked, which elicited a snigger from the woman who’d just arrived. The man smiled, casually wiping a stray lock of hair from his eyes.
“Help. You either come with us now or,” he nodded past her, “take your chances with them. Lex was adamant we came to your aid.”
Hall stared at Moretti, who deliberately avoided her gaze. “You were? Why?”
Moretti looked away; clearly uncomfortable with the possibility of the conversation straying near any other emotion other than anger. “I’ve told you already. We don’t have time for this. Go with Brooks, he’ll take you to safety.”
“What about Deacon?”
“I’ll find him, now go. They’re close.”
“Aren’t you coming with us,” Brooks asked.
Moretti shook her head. “You have an opportunity… the one you’ve been waiting for since the beginning,” Lex said, her lips twisting into a malevolent grin.
“What do you mean,” Brooks asked, perplexed.
Lex pulled out the scribe she’d swiped from the unconscious spook and handed it to Brooks. “I had one that belonged to Trammel. On the way to the precinct, I made a detour to my old apartment, but it was crawling with Inner-Sanctum minions. It seems they know who I am. I guessed they must have taken everything of importance.” She nodded to the scribe. “This belonged to the spook who had Hall. I’ll bet my life he’s Inner-Sanctum if he orchestrated Hall’s fall from grace. It could be your way in.”
Brooks remained silent, as he gaped at the scribe. He looked as though he were about to weep with joy. He stared at the small piece of hardware like it was a holy relic. He raised his eyes to meet Moretti’s and nodded dumbly. “I’ll get this to Oliver right away. He’s waiting for us at the stairwell, near the entrance to the compound.” He blinked. “What are you going to do?”
Moretti arced her head in the direction of the sirens. “I’ll give you the distraction you need to escape. I’m going to find a way into NewHaven… to find out who killed my son. Then I’ll finish it.”
She turned to leave, but Brooks grabbed her wrist. She looked down at his hand. Her eyes became suddenly became cold. To Hall, her expression suggested she was considering whether to break his arm or not. “You agreed to help us, but to be honest, I was sceptical. You have no idea what this scribe will do for the cause.” He paused, trying to find the right words. “For that, you have my trust.”
Moretti looked confused, and a little irritated. She pulled her hand free from his grasp. “That’s great, Brooks. But you need to go before the cavalry arrives.”
He nodded. “What I mean is… I know who killed your son…”
Moretti’s face lost all colour. A darkness passed over her face; her eyes like two flints of ice. That expression chilled Hall’s blood. She did not envy Brooks’ shoes. “Who killed my son?”
If Brooks was as scared as Hall felt, he didn’t show it. “Samuel Faulks,” he said.
Moretti’s eyes widened. “The fucking Proxy? How long have you known?”
Brooks grimaced. “After we got you back to the compound.”
Moretti narrowed her eyes. “The first time, or the second?”
“The first…” Brooks said.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked, her voice hoarse with anger.
“It doesn’t matter. I’m telling you now. If you’re going to NewHaven… I thought you should kno—”
His words were cut off as Lex punched him then stormed off towards the cruiser. Brooks staggered back; his bottom lip bleeding. His two companions took a step forward, to presumably intervene, but Brooks waved them off. “Leave it,” He said, spitting to the side. “It’s less than I deserve.”
After Moretti disappeared, he turned to one of his comrades. “Li, grab your bike. How quickly can you get the EMP’s”
The woman, named Li, stepped closer. “Not long, why?”
Brooks gazed down at the scribe in his shaking hand. “This can get us in so far. But we’ll need to kill the power at the source if we have any chance of breaching the firewall and gaining access to the Inner-Sanctum files.”
Li smiled. “I’ll be in contact. I have a bike not far from here.” Then she took off at a sprint.
Brooks turned to Hall and gestured to his remaining comrade. The man handed Hall a hood. Hall turned to Brooks with an expression of disbelief. “R
eally?” she asked. The man clearly had trust issues. Her initial sympathy for what Moretti had done to him began to subside rapidly.
Brooks nodded, rubbing his jaw. He took one last look to the spot where Moretti had vacated, then strode past Hall without a word. Hall slipped the hood over her head and was left with little choice but to wonder where she was being taken to.
~
Lex sped out of the derelict car park, screaming her lungs out in fury. She gripped the steering wheel so tight she thought her knuckles would burst through the fabric of her gloves.
Neon Revenge Page 20
