by T. K. Toppin
“How is John?” Aline asked me.
“Pissed off.” I gave her a tight smile. “I missed supper last night.”
Aline arched her eyebrows, understanding my meaning. “I’m sure he is.”
Ho curled a hand around my arm, squeezing it to remind me to remain silent. He’d been reminding me ever since we disembarked the shuttle and made the trip to the reception hall. Not wanting to disappoint him, I opened my mouth to continue.
“Well, you know how John can be.”
“That I do. But I’m sure he’ll make it up to you.” Aline glanced up at the security monitors in the elevator. “The first chance he gets.”
I didn’t miss the double meaning in her words. We both knew that, once it was discovered we were in Iceland, John would come. The only question was, how would he know where we were? And when he did find out, how long would it take before he came. I was glad Aline was here. Her presence bolstered my confidence and hope, which had rapidly deteriorated during the shuttle ride.
The elevator doors opened and Dr. Maines tumbled out before us, scuttling along the corridor as we cleared yet another security checkpoint. This was the last one, so he muttered as if to himself, before the entrance to the Archives Room. From there, a stern-faced security guard escorted us into a decontamination chamber. A light spray of disinfectant washed over us, followed by a blast of wind that seemed to exfoliate every pore on my body. And then we were clear.
The Archives Room was huge. And cold. Gigantic vaults were everywhere, stacked one on top the other like a mammoth beehive. From floor to ceiling, they lined the entire length of one wall. I couldn’t even see the end of it from where we stood.
Before us were small glass-partitioned rooms sectioned off like cubicles with various scientific equipment and utensils that outnumbered actual furniture. A lone technician was in one cubicle, engrossed in something under his microscope. He raised his head, did a double take, then ducked his head back to his work.
“These are the research cubicles,” Dr. Maines explained, more at ease now that we were in the labs. “I have reserved a room for you, Dr. Lancaster, that is more private and secure for what you require. I’m sure you realize these samples cannot be contaminated or tampered with in any way. And you are aware that no part, not even a micro-syringe sample, can be taken unless the individual or a family member or their representative has granted specific permission to you, and to this facility. All pertinent information is logged and attached to each sample, should you need to know details. Log in and enter your name at the console; it will allow you temporary access to all corresponding electronic data. Once you are done, log out. It will automatically shut down and erase what you have viewed. If you require the use of—”
“Thank you, Dr. Maines,” Aline interrupted and inclined her head, “but I’m not sure what it is my associates will need.”
She turned to face Dr. Maines, staring at him. Then she focused somewhere behind him, pausing in thought almost, and her eyes went skyward. I discreetly glanced over to where she looked, wondering if she saw something that could help us. I only saw a security camera. If I didn’t know any better, Aline seemed to be making some sort of signal to the camera.
Dr. Maines made an audible gulp. “I’m sorry, I-I do not understand. You requested to see a few samples and do a background—”
“Dr. Maines,” Michael Ho spoke up for the first time. “We are here at my request. Unfortunately, these ladies are my captives and have performed their functions quite well. Now, escort me to these particular samples that I must have? I have a list. Technically speaking, I am within my rights to ask for them. After all, I am a descendant.”
Dr. Maines stood blinking fast, trying to process the situation. From the corner of my eye, I saw James had moved to the main doors. He fiddled with the control panels, his back to us. Lee had the other technician in some sort of stranglehold, the intent to break his neck clear. I made a move toward them, but Aline grabbed my shoulder, shaking her head.
No! I mouthed to Aline. The man was being murdered right before us! But she lowered her eyes and shook her head again. I could do nothing to help the poor man. He was being killed because of me. My fault. I swallowed hard, fire and pain burning inside me. I had to do something. Anything.
“I’m sorry…I-I don’t understand.” Dr. Maines stammered and darted his eyes from Ho to Aline. He saw his associate being dropped to the floor like a ragdoll, and gaped. “Sir, the security cams—this place will be overrun with guards. You can’t succeed in whatever it is you are doing. Did you just kill…?” Horror spread across Dr. Maines’ face, his voice clipped up a few octaves higher.
“That is not a concern to me. Please,” Ho inclined his head to the direction of the vaults, “time is precious. The samples?”
“Do as he says, Dr. Maines,” Aline prompted. “All will be well. This is no fault of yours.”
Dr. Maines let out a squeak, but obediently led Ho to the vaults in a sort of staggering shuffle. By now, Ho had pulled out a small weapon, a krima, standard size. It wasn’t engaged, but he jabbed the blunt end into the scientist’s back, who uttered another strained squeak as he led the way.
James had returned, along with Lee, to stand on either side of Aline and me.
“Do not try anything foolish,” James informed us.
“You can’t get away with this. You do know that, right?” I snapped. “There are cameras all over this fucking place. It’ll be full of security in no time! He just killed that man. The poor guy had nothing to do with any of this. Why? Why did he have to die?”
“Josie,” Aline cautioned me. “It’s obvious they’ll use us as hostages to get out. We must comply or more will die. Calm down.”
“Fuck that!” I retorted. “Do you even know what he’s planning on doing? He wants my blood, my DNA, for some goddamned master code that unlocks some freak of nature!”
In as few words, and most of them tagged with expletives, I explained to Aline what Ho’s intentions were. And who Ho really was. I watched as Aline’s face contorted, first in surprise, then in disgust. I even sensed some of that disgust being directed at me.
“Until I met you, my world was very sane.” Aline shook her head, then paused to purse her lips. “It’s never a dull moment with you.”
“I try to please,” I smirked with as much sarcasm as I could muster.
“Tell me, Lee, is it?” Aline turned to face Ho’s body-assistant with the spiky hair. “How does Ho plan on getting us out of here?”
“He plans on staying here for as long as it takes,” Lee replied. He had a voice that sounded like he’d just finished eating something thick and sticky. “Come.” He tipped his porcupine-like head to me and pointed to a room.
I glanced into it and saw a reclining chair, an array of surgical equipment, vials and bottles and odd-looking machinery.
“No.”
James sighed from beside me. “Look, Josie. Make this as easy as it can be for yourself. Go. Let Dr. Lancaster take your blood and relax.”
James came around and took my arm, forcing me to walk toward the room. “It is better if she does it. Ho will just cut you like hung meat to get what he wants.”
“Then he’ll have to fucking cut me.” I jerked out of his grip and dug my heels into the floor.
Aline made to move, but Lee’s arm caught her in the chest. She gasped out a breath and staggered backward. Quick to recover, she spun and jabbed him with a roundhouse punch, clipping his side. He bucked back, twisted, and sailed through the air, up and over Aline’s head, grabbing a fistful of her hair and bringing her down with him to the floor.
It all happened so fast, I barely registered it. One moment they stood and grappled with each other, the next they were on the floor and Lee had twisted her arm high up behind her back. Aline lay, face red with fury, but pliant.
Without thinking twice, without even thinking why, I turned and ran. My reasoning? If they wanted my blood, they’d have to catch me first. Bu
t where would I run to? In circles? I didn’t care just then, I simply ran. Through the maze of glass cubicles, up and over desks and shelving, down the length of floor-space between the vaults, ducking through narrow openings that held precious samples of a generation of peoples.
This was madness. But I couldn’t stop myself. Panic drove me. Even my reasoning blurred with fear.
James hollered out at me, as did Aline. I had no idea what they said. I found a small crevice between a shelving unit and some sort of machine and wedged myself into the space. Then bit my lips and willed my breath to level out.
I heard a crash and Aline’s voice growling in anger. I slammed a hand over my mouth to stop from calling out. I should be helping Aline! I knew how to fight. But instead, I hid.
Another yell—Aline. Another crash. James called out to me, much closer now. I bunched into a tighter ball and then, I felt it. My breathing almost stopped when I realized what it was.
Through the fabric of the long overcoat James had put on me, I felt my krima in one of its side pockets.
Frantic, I dug it out and stared at it.
What… What was it doing in the pocket? Did James forget it there and mistakenly given me his coat? Or did he do it on purpose, knowing I’d find it. Why?
Thoughts raced through my head. He’d been helpful, somewhat, throughout this entire ordeal. But why? He was a Rogue and wasn’t paid to have a conscience. Why would he want to help?
I pushed these questions away and tucked my krima into its proper place, in my wrist holster. No one would see it, no one—but James—would know, covered up as it was with the long sleeves of the overcoat. And no one would expect me to have it.
It was a poor excuse, but I didn’t need to hide any more. I didn’t need to run. I had, not an ace, but a krima up my sleeve. And I planned to use it on Ho.
With a forceful grunt, I pushed out of my hiding place and stood waiting for James.
I saw him turn a corner from one of the glass cubicles. His eyes met mine, and for a second I thought he read my mind. He paused, just for a moment, then walked toward me to take my arm.
Did I imagine the small wink? I couldn’t be sure. I let him escort me back to Aline; she sat on the floor with a bloody nose, but otherwise seemed fine. A weapon was pointed at her head and Lee looked ready to kill her on the spot.
* * *
Deidre Moorjani was a thorough woman. If something bothered her, she followed through until it exhausted her or the channels by which she followed them were exhausted. Josie’s disappearance bothered her—a lot. She liked Josie. They’d fought side by side during the recent siege of the Citadel.
The Rogue intrigued her as well. Why would someone who’d risked sneaking into the Citadel then, bold as ever, offer his face up for the surveillance cameras? It didn’t make sense. Unless he wanted to be caught. Rogues were known to have a superiority complex, but this was ridiculous. Even the best of them wouldn’t risk this level of blatant exposure. Did he want to get caught? Did that sort of excitement get him off? Who knew with Rogues.
Moorjani had dropped his image into the image bank and surveillance footage acquired from all across Europe for the last twenty-four hours. It was madness and would take time, even with all her ten computers working non-stop. A few hours later, her computer pinged her, and she broke out into a broad smile.
The Rogue had been tagged twice. At a service docking bay for private shuttles, again pointedly staring up at the cameras. Then there he was again, at the front desk of a hotel in Iceland. He even smiled at the camera this time. He did want to get caught.
What intrigued Moorjani more was that Iceland was also the destination of Aline Lancaster’s private shuttle. She didn’t know the specifics of why Dr. Lancaster had gone to Iceland, but something niggled her. To settle her thorough mind, she dropped Aline’s image into the image bank, specifying it target Iceland.
It didn’t surprise Moorjani in the least when, in less than twenty seconds, the computer pinged with several images of Aline being escorted by two unfamiliar men who appeared to be posing as her body-assistants. The images of Aline were bold, direct, and with purpose. No one could question the expression on her face. Aline needed help and needed it fast.
And who else should Moorjani see? Josie.
Moorjani bolted out of her office and headed straight for John Lancaster.
She found him, grim-faced, about to board a shuttle. Dressed in no-nonsense militant black, John was just testing the grip of a weapon when Moorjani grabbed his attention. She glanced about him and guessed immediately that he knew.
“Iceland,” she said. “Got them all there. I have it on surveillance. Everything. They’re not hiding anymore.”
“And that’s where you’ll find me.” His voice was quiet. A dangerous tone. “Simon needs you here. So do I.”
Moorjani nodded. “I take it this is under the radar?” Her eyes traveled to the small escort team. Simon’s Elites, but they were also the president’s special companions in covert ops. “Way under the radar.”
“Inform Loeb, no one else.” John affixed his communicator to his ear and nodded to the pilot.
“The Vice President?”
“Not even her. This goes bad, she can deny with honesty.”
“I’ll patch through the surveillance feed to you. Bring them back, sir.” Moorjani hesitated. Oh, how she wanted in on the action. Her hand gripped the side of the shuttle door, more to restrain herself from jumping in.
“Maybe next time, Moorjani.” The president caught her expression, then nodded to the pilot again. “I intend to see you later, so make sure they keep this bay door open.” He gave her a scary smile that made her glad she wasn’t the one he planned on killing.
“How did you find out?”
“I beat it out of the girl.” he cracked a cold smile as the shuttle door slammed shut.
Moorjani stepped back and watched as they revved for take off. What girl?
* * *
John forced himself to relax. The knot in his stomach had ached and ached since he’d learned of Josie’s whereabouts. It had taken every bit of control he had to get him through the last few hours while he organized his ad-hoc team sans Simon. Mapping out a plan and then leaving the Citadel as quietly as possible had been a feat in itself. Usually Simon handled these matters, and handled them like the magician he was.
Now that they were on their way, the knot eased a little. He willed himself not to bark at the pilot to go faster. They were on stream; they had the element of surprise. Ho wouldn’t expect such a swift response.
And he knew that so long as they were all still in Iceland, Josie was alive.
John didn’t know who he wanted dead first, Ho or James. He informed his team to use extreme force. They weren’t going to make a scene; this was a quick extraction. But they were going to use whatever force necessary to get it done. Quietly, but effectively.
Though Simon had picked his best team to take to the Scrap Yard, he’d left enough behind, more than enough, for John. But he didn’t use any. Instead, he’d tagged the five with him now. Two he’d worked with before countless times, and they were seasoned veterans: the pug-faced McLinney and the dour Kakuta. The other three, Panna, Abrahms, and Mamud, he’d picked for their no-nonsense fighting skills. In another life, those three could’ve been Rogues.
John leaned back in his seat and stared at his fisted hands. I should have told Rand. He reprimanded himself once again, and felt the hot rush of guilt on his face. Too late now.
He didn’t want to risk opening a communications channel with his brother-in-law now. Rand would understand.
He’s one of us. He always understands.
Chapter 24
Minnows back-flipped, his full-length krima blazed an amber trail beside him like a Ferris wheel. The last mercenary he’d killed seemed to clone himself, two more popping up beside him. One, a woman, wielded a massive gun that looked like the grandmother of all pulse guns.
While mos
t pulse guns used compressed air that shot out like bullets, taking only a second and a half to recalibrate and reload, larger ones tended to take longer and usually sucked the surrounding air like a vacuum. When the first tugging sensation tweaked his ears as the air around them rapidly compressed, Minnows was already airborne and flipping away in different directions like a rubber ball.
He heard the woman belch out in annoyance. The other mercenary preferred heat-seeking bullets and fired a quick burst in Minnows’ general direction. Since the bullets hadn’t the time to lock onto their target, they went wild and scattered every which way, seeking out any heat source. The woman yelled at the man to stop.
Skipping and flitting across the walls and fallen furniture, over the bodies of dead men and machines, Minnows gauged his time with care. If he stopped too long, the heat-seeking gun would tag him. But he needed to get close enough to attack. He also knew more mercenaries would come, determined to get to the mainframe. It was now or never.
When pressed for time, make a big impression. He whipped out a small contact explosive from his belt, launched into a series of flips bringing him feet away from his targets, and threw the explosive as he bounded away.
It wasn’t a big bang, but big enough. It knocked off the entire booted foot of the man with the heat-seeking gun. He fell to his knees, roaring in pain. The woman shot her weapon about wildly, the air grew thin and tight, making Minnows’ ears pop from the pressure differential.
Minnows had already bounced away, scaling up the side of a wall, from where he launched off. With a neat swing, he lopped the head of the man with his krima as he passed over, then dropped behind the woman. She spun, shooting blind. Minnows arched backward, snapping out his arm to absorb the fall. He pushed up and brought the krima sailing down over her arm. It sliced her elbow and caught the metal of the pulse gun, which crackled and sent showers of hot sparks everywhere. Minnows pulled back quickly so as not to get any stray beams his way, spun low, and finished the job with a backward jab to her liver. She jerked and screamed, falling to the floor. Mild regret rushed into Minnows. He didn’t like killing, but sometimes it was necessary. A noise from behind had him scampering up and somersaulting away. He landed, took a quick look, and found it was only Simon.
