Trojan Gene

by Meg Buchanan

  No, that’s not it. One of them would have warned me. Besides, Jacob has already shared his thoughts about the whole Lucinda saga with me. This can’t just be about that.

  The Vid carries on, swapping from camera to camera like someone’s cut it together, just gathered up the incriminating bits. I’m going to have to explain having the HazeApp.

  “Where did you get the app?” Fitzgerald is silky, and right on cue.

  I don’t answer that. Having the app is probably going to cause more trouble than rescuing Lucinda did.

  “Where did you get it?” insists Jacob, like they’re a tag team. They’re sitting each side, blasting the questions at me.

  I still figure they’ve planned this. “Somewhere,” I lie. “Don’t remember. Had it a while.” They leave it alone, and we go back to watching the Vid. Curley and Nick go into their base rooms. The camera cuts to doors that open and shut on their own, right up to Lucinda’s door. It swings opens on its own too. Lucinda is lying there. Then there’s a depression on the bed, and after a bit Joe materialises. The camera’s behind him. You can just see his back and hair. I only recognise him because I know who it is.

  The Vid is silent, but Joe and Lucinda talk. I can see Lucinda’s mouth moving and Joe nodding and shrugging. Then Joe hazes again without touching his Com. The pillow floats to Lucinda’s head.

  Jacob looks at me. “That was you?”

  I nod. We go back to the watching. The nightmare continues. Lucinda is floating up, then she hazes too. The door opens on its own again.

  Vincent must have watched all this maybe three days ago. Why hadn’t he done anything?

  I keep watching. I remember we all went to Nick’s base room and unhazed. But that doesn’t happen on the Vid. Vincent must have missed that. No. Nick said he’d masked the camera.

  It goes straight to Vincent sitting in Curley’s base room talking to him. Curley gets a text. Talks to Vincent. Then answers the text. Vincent leaves, then Curley says something and waves at the wall. Pointing out Ela, but Jacob and Fitzgerald don’t catch that.

  Jacob’s worried about other things. “Who sent him the text?” he snaps.

  “Me.”

  Fitzgerald turns to Jacob. “That could be traceable,” He turns back to me. “What did it say?”

  I try to remember the exact text I sent. “‘By the door’, I think.”

  “That places him there.”

  “Yeah,” says Jacob. “We’ll have to deal with that.”

  And we all focus back on the screen. The utes leave the compound. The Vid stops. I think this is nearly over. I expect Jacob and Fitzgerald to either tell me what they want or start in on me about disobeying orders again.

  I reckon I can handle either thing. But I still can’t figure why I’m the only one here. That’s getting harder to handle because if this Vid came from Vincent’s Tablet, with what I know he knew, and what I read about what was done to Ela’s dad, I’m starting to figure how this might end. Starting to work out why Vincent and the sidekick went missing for a few days, and why I haven’t seen anything of Curley or Nick in that time either.

  Chapter 36

  THEN, INSTEAD OF TURNING off the Com and starting on the talking, Jacob turns to me.

  “Now watch this one carefully.” His voice just drips nasty. He flicks the Tablet screen and goes to a Hologram file. It slowly resolves into 3D.

  Someone used an ImageMaker this time. And this hologram turns out to be the real nightmare. The date and time put it nearly two days ago. About an hour before I killed Vincent and his mate. When the hologram is fully resolved, I see Vincent. He’s in a room. Has a gun in his hand. Nick and Curley are there too, tied to chairs. The room is familiar. It takes a while before I realise it’s the dining room at Curley’s place. Curley and Nick are so real I want to reach out and touch them.

  Vincent asks Nick a question.

  Nick shrugs.

  He gets hit across the face with the gun.

  Nick’s already been hit a few times. His face is a mess.

  I stand up, want to stop it. Go straight through the Vincent shape.

  Fitzgerald grabs my arm and forces me back on my chair. Then I feel Jacob’s hand on my shoulder on one side, Fitzgerald’s on the other. They’re holding me in the seat. Like they really want me to sit and watch.

  No sound still, but it’s not too hard to figure what’s happening. I drop my head, so I don’t have to watch. Jacob grabs my chin and forces it up. “Sit and watch what you caused.”

  Vincent moves across to Curley, questions him, gets a shrug from Curley too. Curley’s not in much better shape than Nick. Vincent lashes out with the gun again.

  It goes on like that for about ten minutes. Back and forward. Back and forward. Question, shrug, smash. Question, shrug, smash. Curley, then Nick, then back to Curley.

  I feel Jacob look at me. He and Fitzgerald are still holding me down in the chair. Jacob lets go my jaw, but he needn’t have worried. I can’t take my eyes off what’s happening now. It’s like one of those nightmares where you can’t move no matter how hard you try. I keep willing something to happen, someone to walk through the door and rescue them. Like in a Vid.

  Then Vincent goes over to Curley. Stands there looking at him. Curley just looks straight back into his eyes. His face is battered, unrecognisable. Vincent doesn’t ask anything this time. Just lifts the gun like he’s going to shoot him in the head. The way he did with Stevens and his wife.

  “Where are Curley’s mum and dad?” I ask.

  “Dead in the next room,” says Fitzgerald.

  “How did you get this Vid?”

  “Found it in an ImageMaker at Curley’s.”

  “Why is Nick there?”

  “We think he went to warn Curley. Vincent was waiting for him.”

  I feel the tears start behind my eyes, drag my eyes away and down. He went to get Curley after I sent him the warning. It’s the ‘we think’ that gets me. If they don’t know, it means they haven’t been able to talk to Curley or Nick.

  “Keep watching.” Jacob sounds harsh and pushes my head up again. I watch the images. So close I feel I can just reach out and touch them. Curley sitting still watching the gun, Nick slumped in his chair.

  Then the sidekick comes into the room, says something. Vincent gives up on Curley, turns to Nick. Snaps a question at him and then hits him a few times until Nick drops against the ropes. This time it looks like he’s unconscious. Maybe dead. Vincent lifts Nick’s head up by the hair. Blood is smeared from a cut on Nick’s cheek. Vincent stares, then lets Nick’s head drop. Shrugs, moves to Curley, hits him again. And he slumps too, like he’s dead.

  The sidekick walks over to where the ImageMaker has to be and reaches like he’s turning it off. The hologram fades out on my two mates. Sitting deathly still, slumped in chairs.

  “What just happened?” I ask into the silence and stillness, hope still flickering just a little.

  “We think he picked up the Intercept on your Com, the ‘CatchingFire’ you sent to Fitzgerald,” says Jacob.

  “What happened to Nick and Curley?”

  “We were too late.” The hope dies. My two mates are dead.

  It’s quiet in the station. Just the clock ticking away. A car going past. Jacob and Fitzgerald breathing. The tears slide silently down my cheeks.

  Jacob picks up the Com and puts it in his pocket. “They were protecting you and Joe. We figure Vincent spent three days torturing them, trying to get them to talk.”

  No kidding? Like he needed to spell that out? I can’t believe what I’ve just watched. But it was too real to think they’d faked it. And who would have faked it? That’s what the bastard had been doing that night I killed him. I killed him right after he’d killed my two mates.

  “Why?” I ask.

  “He didn’t need them to talk. He already knew most of what he wanted to know,” says Fitzgerald.

  “He did it for the fun of it.” Jacob comes at me from the other side. Th
ey let that sink in.

  I sit there wanting to slaughter everyone.

  The silence closes in.

  “Here’s your chance to make it right.” Fitzgerald sounds like he thinks he’s got me. I know I’m being managed. They’re taking turns talking to me: good cop, bad cop, like in the Vids.

  “How?” I ask anyway.

  They keep up the double act. “Go to Vector with Vincent’s Tablet.” Jacob leans in. “Say you found it in Vincent’s room.”

  “And that achieves…?”

  “The recordings of the rescue can be edited to look like Vincent’s lieutenant got Lucinda out and then killed Vincent.”

  “That’s what you tell Vector,” Fitzgerald suggests. “Tell them he was in love with Lucinda.”

  “How would I know that?”

  “I’m sure you can come up with something. You live across the road from where she lived.” Jacob is elbows on knees, face in my face. “And your life’s going to depend on the story being good enough.” They are both leaning right up close to me. I close my eyes. Give myself time to think. So, it’s my job to make Vector believe the sidekick rescued Lucinda and killed Vincent.

  They are waiting. I can feel them breathing. I open my eyes again. Look at Jacob, then Fitzgerald.

  “That was Joe in the Vid,” I point out.

  “They don’t know that.” Jacob’s still leaning forward watching me, like he’s almost holding his breath now. One last hurdle to clear, his face says. Yeah, it could have been. You could only see the back of Joe. They’re both blonde, have similar body types, tall, really built.

  “Why?” I ask.

  “Takes all the suspicion away from us.” Fitzgerald folds his arms, like he thinks this is a done deal, and we’re just tidying up the details. “And it will stop any reprisals against the families. Tomorrow Vector are going to start shooting Locals until they have all the people involved in the raid. That’s what they do. Vincent stopped them doing it to flush us out, but it will start happening now. If you give them the culprit it will stop that.” Then Fitzgerald leans back, still watching me.

  It could work. I could stop a lot of people dying.

  “Then we want you to let Vector recruit you,” says Jacob.

  Recruit me?

  Fuck.

  Join Vector?

  “No,” I say. “There’s no way I’m doing that.”

  But Jacob and Fitzgerald keep pounding away at the idea. They need someone on the inside. They had Curley and Nick, but Curley and Nick died protecting me. I stole the HazeApp. That was the only reason Joe, Curley and Nick thought they could get away with rescuing Lucinda. That makes it my fault they were killed. Vector will take me because I can shoot, and I’m fit, and know the bush, and a million other reasons.

  “Get Scott to do it,” I say.

  “He’s already in the City. He’s gone to the University, so he can feed us information from there.” There’s more to that than Jacob knows.

  “What if they want me to do something, like with the Stevens or Lucinda?” I can hear myself starting to give in.

  “You do it,” says Jacob.

  “No, I don’t.”

  “Yes, you do. You have to convince them you’ve turned. You do whatever needs to be done to stay in Vector.”

  I sit there, hating their plan, but can’t see a way out. I get to save the Locals. Be a hero. But no one will know about it. And if I join Vector, everyone will think I’m a traitor. Treat me the way they treat the Willises, even Mum.

  Whatever I choose, I lose.

  Fitzgerald and Jacob back off. “Think about it,” says Fitzgerald.

  “You have until morning to decide.” Jacob starts to gather together his crutches. “Vector will start shooting Locals until they have someone to blame for the raid on the Outpost. And now Curley and Nick are gone, we need someone on the inside.” He says it like it’s a reasonable request, like he’s not piling on any more pressure. He doesn’t say going back to work for him is an option.

  I suspect it isn’t.

  It looks like the going to University option is gone too. They’ve got Scott there.

  Fitzgerald unwinds himself and stands up, like he’s achieved what he wanted.

  Jacob eases himself up, leans on the crutch. “You don’t have too many options,” he says.

  Arsehole. He knows I know I don’t have any options.

  He goes to leave, clumping to the door, putting both crutches in one hand to open it, organising the crutches again, clumping through then carefully shutting the door behind him.

  “What will you do now?” asks Fitzgerald.

  “I’m not sure.” I realise I’m not being held down anymore and stand up slowly.

  I’m lost.

  It’s like I had everything I ever wanted, then destroyed it.

  In two days’ time I turn nineteen and have nothing.

  Ela’s gone. I’ve lost her, and I don’t know how to get her back.

  My two mates are dead.

  Jacob thinks I’m scum.

  All I’ve got left is this choice to make.

  And it’s no choice.

  Join Vector and let everyone think I’m a traitor.

  Or what?

  Let more people die because I can’t face it?

  I am so fucked.

  I hope you’ve enjoyed Trojan Gene- Awakening. Please consider leaving a review - this is the best thanks you can give an author.

  Now, if you would like to read what happens next, here it is-

  Sniper Squad

  Book 2 of the Trojan Gene Series

  To buy Now- Click on this link.

  https://geni.us/zgxI

  Or maybe before you decide to buy, read the first chapter:

  Chapter 1

  THE SQUAD SAT IN THE HOVER. At the back of the quivering metal hull, Jack waited for the signal from Captain Leach and had that heightened, let’s get this done feeling.

  A whomp, whomp, whomp vibrated the back of the seat, the strapping of the harness, and up through the floor and the soles of his boots.

  He felt pumped, adrenalin surging, ready to go do what he’d been trained to.

  He looked around and the others, all in full combat gear, long black leather coats, helmets, black visors, boots to their knees and compression gloves as soft and flexible as skin, were leaning forward ready too.

  Across from him, Jeron sat, forearms crossed, laser on his knees, studying nothing, waiting for the hover to settle and the wings to lift so they could get started. He couldn’t see Jeron’s eyes through his visor, but then Jeron grinned at him and he heard the rhythm change, the click of the mechanism as the doors unlocked.

  “Showtime,” Jeron mouthed silently. He undid his harness then rested his gloves on his laser. Jack prepared to move too when he was given the order.

  First, the VTroopers would stream out and form a perimeter. But his squad were specialists, same gear as everyone else, but different skills, trained to work in pairs, track the target, get into position and wait until they had it in their sights.

  The rest of the troopers were trained to work as a solid mass, a relentless overpowering machine, marching straight at the threat and crushing it.

  Ten pairs of eyes watched the Captain. He’d led the training, could do it all himself and could beat any of them at everything. Now he was leading this mission. And after a year of being trained by him, Jack thought if ever they were on the same side, he’d follow him to hell and back.

  Leach peered out under the wing, holding onto the top of the opening and watched the VTroopers. He waited for the perimeter to form then gave the signal and swung out through the door. The squad followed, carrying their lasers at the ready until they reached the cover of the parking building.

  They were in hell. Bodies and dust and chunks of concrete, tiles, tortured steel and a suffocating noise came from all directions and surrounded them.

  Leach signalled, ‘Halt’. The squad stopped and their long coats slapped around
their legs. Eleven guys in a bunch.

  Two StealthHovers, a Mamba transporter that could move three hundred VTroopers and then the Viper, smaller, more mobile, used for Leach’s team.

  “You know the drill,” said Leach. He nodded at Jack and Jeron. “Fraser and Donovan take the east building, get up to the roof and find a vantage point that will cover right to the MonoRail.” He waved his arm at the rail as a train went by, frightened faces flickered behind the glass.

  “Yes, sir.” Jack had his visor raised, stood ramrod straight, felt that suppressed, this is it, energy. He waited with Jeron while Leach directed the rest of the squad.

  “Sharpe and Hood take the west. Levi lead the others, it’s your job to search beyond the perimeter and flush them out.”

  “Yes, sir,” the rest of the team chorused.

  “Party time,” said Leach.

  Jack and Jeron took off to the east, Sharpe and Hood to the west. Levi and the others jogged in a bunch at the nearest VTroopers.

  Jack followed Jeron to the building. It all looked real this time, not a cardboard cut-out that they’d used in training, in sight, and the smell of death and that smothering noise surrounded them. Dust and bodies and chunks of building and debris lay around right up to the entrance. DroneCams everywhere, even surveillance seemed stepped up.

  Jeron crouched beside wide glass doors. Jack covered him. The building towered above, gleaming white polished marble, darkened windows reflecting the buildings and the bit of shattered corner of the Admin block. The sensor picked them up. The doors opened with a whisper.

  No blast.

  No gunfire.

  No voices.

  Jeron slid along the wall like a shadow, laser held out in front.

  He glanced into the foyer, then pulled back. “Clear.”

  They eased into the building side by side, backs to the wall, lasers held ready. Pale grey tiles stretched out across the floor. A curve of polished steel snaked around the reception area. It was one of those buildings where the foyer soared the full twenty storeys and glass bridges connected the rooms.