She looked back at Brendan with mild alarm. “What are you guys doing out here?”
“You kids are all in a lot of trouble,” Kemp said in a scratchy approximation of a commanding voice. “Get these cuffs off or else.”
“That’ll convince ’em,” Agent Walters muttered.
Lucille handed the pistol to Tyler. He shoved it away into a cargo pouch on his pants.
“We done?” Bull asked Jennifer.
Jennifer looked at Brendan. “Are we?”
Brendan landed the drone. Jennifer was clearly interested. He held it up for her to see.
“That’s a little different than the crappy design you were using during the games,” she said.
“Yeah. It’s not mine, exactly. But we used to have more.” He nodded in Walters’s direction. “Do you know them? One’s an FBI agent.”
Jennifer’s face clouded. She looked at Lucille. “What kind of trouble are you getting us in?”
“The kind you deserve,” Lucille said.
“I deserve? You’re the one messing with our football games and coming to our school to start a fight. You threw the gauntlet down and we answered. But this is a whole new level of hassle. An FBI agent? What are you thinking?”
“Wait,” Brendan said. “You started interfering with our games last year. I saw the replays. We’re just fighting back.”
Jennifer laughed. “Is that what she told you? That we started this whole thing? Her stupid brother got five players on our team hooked on his weird drug and got them to mess up plays and throw games before they got busted. By the time the coach figured it out, we almost lost the season. I did what I had to do to catch up.”
Brendan looked at Lucille. Her expression was a mix of contempt and rage.
“You got him locked up,” Lucille hissed.
“He got himself locked up dealing drugs.”
Brendan groaned. “What did you get me mixed up in?”
Lucille arched an eyebrow. “You were all too eager to get mixed up, Cesar.”
“But you guys were quick to answer the call to come out and fight,” Brendan said.
Jennifer shrugged. “So? Everyone else is doing it. I think we three do it quite well.”
Brendan couldn’t argue. He wasn’t sure what made Bull so big, but he was easily the largest person he had ever seen. Ike’s wing suit seemed to fly faster and have greater maneuverability than even Silver Eagle’s glider, and Silver Eagle had sponsorship. And Brendan had no idea what Jennifer’s army of droplets even were.
“Can we call this a truce or at least a cease-fire?” Brendan asked.
“I think we already have,” Jennifer said. “So how much trouble are we all in now?”
They found a spot of shade out of earshot of the agent by a trailer with a pop-out canopy. Brendan kept checking his hands and touching his neck where he had been bitten.
“I’ve called them off,” Jennifer said. “For now.”
“What are they, anyway?”
She beamed. “My little babies. But I’m not dumb enough to tell you.”
“Some kind of nanobot, I’ll wager,” Vlad said. He had come out of his hiding place and joined them, clearly nervous and still jumpy and ragged from his experience. “But perhaps not entirely mechanical?”
“Aren’t you the smart one?” Jennifer said, but she volunteered nothing.
Ike remained on his perch atop the mobile home, keeping watch. Brendan saw he had more bombs or grenades on his belt. Tyler sat on the pickup’s dropped gate. Bull just stood there in the sun as if awaiting orders.
“I don’t know how much of this you need or want to hear,” Brendan said. “But Lucille got me involved in trying to counteract whatever was happening to our games. I don’t care about them, but I needed her help.”
Lucille continued to stare daggers at Jennifer. Brendan wasn’t even sure she was listening.
“Something to do with the cop?” Jennifer asked.
“Yeah. Agent Walters there has information about my dad who was kidnapped.”
“Drone King. You’re Myron Reece’s kid.”
“Geez, does everybody know now?” Vlad said.
“Probably not,” Jennifer said. “But I know how to do my homework. Getting into a fight without researching your opponent is a mistake.”
Brendan sighed, wondering how much to share. “Agent Walters has kind of gone rogue in his efforts. We don’t know why. But he picked us all up at the game and detained us at an abandoned gas station instead of taking us in to FBI headquarters or wherever you bring suspects. We escaped. But something happened to his van and he crashed. Was that you?”
Jennifer made a disgusted face. “No. I’ve never seen him before. And I’m not dumb enough to attack a cop.”
“Well, someone did. He hasn’t told me what happened yet. But then he kidnapped Vlad here last night after the game. That brings us to this morning and us trying to free Vlad. Walters came to our school and assaulted my counselor and a guard and brought me here. Calling you was a long shot. I was hoping it might serve as a distraction.”
“You’re a piece of work. You bring us out here and get us involved with this? What, are you related to her?” Jennifer asked, nodding towards Lucille.
“I was desperate and in trouble.”
“You still are. We don’t have anything to do with this.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. But you’re here now, and at the very least you’ll want to know what happens next.”
Lucille worried her cuticles. “If Agent Walters is operating on his own, then no one else knows he’s here. There’s an obvious solution,” she said. When everyone paused to stare, she added, “I’m just kidding.”
Jennifer called to Ike. “We’re leaving.”
“You weren’t dismissed,” Lucille said. “Don’t forget, we have the gun.”
Jennifer smiled. Suddenly Lucille screamed and began jumping about. She dropped to her knees and swatted at her ankles. Before anyone could do anything, a small cloud of droplets took to the air from beneath Lucille and flew back to Jennifer. Jennifer waved her hand about as if collecting a spool of cooperative mist. The droplets all vanished and she gave a little laugh.
“Don’t threaten me ever,” Jennifer said.
Lucille brushed herself off. Tyler had jumped up and was standing awkwardly, unsure of what to do. Bull’s presence appeared to be keeping him in check.
“Just a few minutes of your time,” Brendan said, trying hard to keep his composure and not show how nervous he was. At any moment Jennifer might renew her attack and they had no more cards to play. The ploy with the car alarm wouldn’t take her by surprise a second time.
“What? You want me to use my babies to get information out of the FBI man?”
“It crossed my mind,” he said.
Vlad grabbed his arm. “You’re not serious.”
Brendan knew he hadn’t thought it through. It meant adding torture to his resume of recent sins. But he had to do what he could for his father. And too much time had been wasted between the agent and fighting with the Cathedral Valley High kids.
“I guess I’m not,” Brendan said. “You guys better go. Agent Walters might have other people heading this way.”
Part of Brendan was hoping that some sort of reverse psychology effect might change Jennifer’s mind, that she would suddenly see the need to help. But with a nod, she got Bull to start up the motorcycle and she climbed on the back. She beckoned Brendan over as the bike sputtered and roared.
“Hopefully you know well enough to watch out for her,” Jennifer said, nodding in Lucille’s direction. “But if she’s juiced up, she should be all the help you need.”
Before Brendan could ask for clarification, Bull drove the bike away. Dust and pebbles flew up into Brendan’s face. He watched them leave and stared as Ike took flight, his wings fanning out and his apparatus shooting him up into the air. As the dust settled, Brendan collected the drone and stuffed it into a pocket.
“Now wha
t do we do?” Vlad asked.
Lucille nudged Vlad aside. “What did she say to you?”
“Lucille, how juiced up are you?” Brendan asked.
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
“I think you do. Because maybe it’s you that needs to ask Agent Walters about my dad.”
24. Third-Degree
“This has gone on long enough,” Agent Walters said. He was clearly uncomfortable. With sharp tugs, he tested the handcuffs and the post. Judging by the red marks on his wrist, he had done this several times already. His red, irritated eyes burned with anger and his nose was still running from the effects of the gas. “I’ll ask you one last time to uncuff me if you don’t want your entire young lives ruined.”
Kemp had gotten as comfortable as possible. His eyes were on Lucille, hopeful, needy, puppy-like. It definitely made Brendan uncomfortable, as the man was in his forties.
Brendan would have guessed Vlad would be the one who might show some sign of wavering, but he just remained at Brendan’s side along with Lucille. Tyler was keeping watch for signs of approaching vehicles. There were none, and Brendan dared hope that perhaps this property belonged to Kemp and only he and the agent knew they were there.
“I need information from you,” Brendan said. He examined the agent’s keychain, which held the keys to both the agent’s car and the handcuffs. He put them away.
“Great!” Agent Walters said. “Uncuff me, and we can talk like adults. That’s what you’d like to hear, right? That I’m taking you and your request seriously, and that I’m going to yield and leave you alone and lift the threat of legal repercussions off you and your families?” He snorted. “You’re all involved now, and so are those other kids. Have I told you there’s a whole ’nother level above assaulting a law enforcement officer?” he asked, affecting a mock Texas accent. “Something we at the bureau have been batting about. Terrorism. Maybe you’ve heard about it on the television. You’re all old enough that we can find exemptions and try you all as adults. A federal penitentiary will sound like a picnic compared to the place we’ll send you.”
Lucille had moved around to his side. Agent Walters didn’t seem to notice. She took his wrist and began to caress the irritated spots where the handcuffs had abraded his skin. He flinched.
“What are you doing?”
Brendan was equally curious.
“Your skin is chafed,” Lucille said as she continued to touch his wrists.
“Well, stop it.”
Brendan waited for the agent to begin slurring his words or swoon or start speaking in tongues. He had no gauge on her ability. With Torben, she’d had a boost from that world’s food and water, and Torben had been drunk. Even with all those advantages, she had been only partially successful and it had taken hours. Her greatest success had been with Vlad, when she’d gotten him to steal the black drone from Brendan. But she’d had something to work with there, as both Torben and Vlad had been attracted to her. Brendan didn’t know how she had ensnared Kemp so quickly. He guessed she had gotten stronger, and from what Jennifer had said, it had something to do with whatever she was on. He hoped it was enough.
After a moment, it was clear the agent was only getting more irritated. Brendan pulled Lucille aside. “What about the other guy?” he whispered. “How much control do you have?”
“It’s not control,” Lucille said.
“We need to give what you do some kind of name.”
“I’m tired and I have a headache.”
“Just a little bit more, and we’re done here and we can get you back to school.”
She went into her clutch and took a small white pill from a plastic bag. She moved the pill about inside her mouth before swallowing. Brendan gave her an encouraging nod. He tried to dismiss the guilt he was feeling by thinking about his dad.
Brendan gave her one of the sodas from the fast-food run and she took it to Kemp. He only drank when she gave him a nod. Her hand went to the back of his neck. There was something childlike in his disposition, a contrast to his weathered appearance. He drank.
“Are you poisoning my associate?” Agent Walters asked.
“Your associate was cooperative,” Brendan said.
“So it’s what now, good cop, bad cop? Play us off against each other? You’ve been watching too many movies.”
Lucille whispered something into Kemp’s ear. As she backed away, her dark expression reminded him of when they had first met and she had set both Paul and Henry after him. The girl did cruel well, and she was incapable of concealing the thrill she got out of it.
Kemp stood. This forced Walters to follow suit, as Kemp had a few inches on him and was raising his arms. Walters got up on the balls of his feet.
“Ow, that hurts, you idiot,” he said.
Kemp jerked both arms down and behind him. Agent Walters was pulled forward and his face slammed into the post. Kemp did this again. Thud. Walters was trying to stand and pull away, but he was dazed. Kemp grabbed the agent by the hair and yanked him forward, his fingers prying at the man’s face.
“What, are you crazy?” Agent Walters screamed. Blood oozed from his lips.
Vlad shifted uncomfortably. “Brendan…”
“Why are you really after my father?” Brendan asked.
Kemp had the agent pressed against the post and was squeezing his head. Walters made a mewling sound.
“Lucille,” Brendan said. She was watching the two men struggle, and her lips were moving as if she were about to speak. “Lucille!”
“That’s enough,” she said.
Kemp relaxed and released Agent Walters. The agent fell back as far as the handcuffs allowed, forcing Kemp to lean forward with his arms outstretched. At first Brendan thought Walters was about to pass out, but he was breathing deep and staring straight at Brendan. His tongue came out of his mouth and tasted the blood.
“Neat trick,” Agent Walters said. In a flash, he kicked forward, the tip of his leather shoe catching Kemp in the groin. The man groaned and collapsed. Walters caught the front of the man’s shirt and twisted. Kemp’s face got red as he tried in vain to get the agent’s hands off him. Walters kept up the pressure. It took both Brendan and Vlad together to pull him off the man. Kemp collapsed forward into the post.
“You’re going to have to do your dirty work yourself, kids,” Agent Walters said.
Both boys backed away. Vlad looked as though he wanted to say something, but he just shook his head. Brendan saw the fear on his friend’s face. Brendan felt a surge of shame and was glad Tina and Poser weren’t around.
Then Lucille threw up.
Tyler was off the truck in an instant and he picked her up. She went limp in his arms, coughing, her head lolling back. He got her into the truck’s cab and sat her down.
“I’m fine. It’s just…take me back to school,” she said.
“We need to leave,” Tyler said. He held his hand out. Brendan still had the truck keys. “Hand it over.”
A strange sensation came over Brendan. He almost wanted Tyler to try for the keys, although he knew of no reason not to hand them over. They still had the agent’s car. Perhaps Tyler saw it in Brendan’s face. He opened and closed his hand impatiently.
Brendan gave him the keys. “We still need you,” Brendan said, but it came out flat and Tyler ignored him. He climbed into the truck and started it up. It backed up, turned, and drove away.
“What’s next, kids?” Agent Walters asked. “Hot irons? Pliers to the fingernails? We can’t stay here forever. So here’s the best deal I can give you. Unlock the cuffs. Hand over the drone. It’s just a dumb toy anyway. Mr. Behram gives me the encryption key so my agents have something to play with. And then we check for messages from your daddy. If he hasn’t replied yet, we call it a day and you both go back to school and go do your homework and whatever else before lights out. What do you say? That sounds like a good deal, doesn’t it? Mr. Behram, your thoughts?”
Brendan looked at Vlad. His friend just look
ed beat and ready for it all to be over.
“No,” Brendan said. “No deal. We’re not going to do anything else to hurt you, but we’re also not letting you go.”
“Then what?” Agent Walters said. It was the first time Brendan had heard anything close to desperation in the man’s voice.
“Then we’ll see.” Brendan went to sit down on the steps. He checked the drone program on his phone and installed an activation password. Just in case.
Vlad sat on the top step. “How long can we stay here?”
Brendan didn’t answer. Vlad kept shifting uncomfortably. It was the hottest part of the afternoon. They were in the shade. The agent and Kemp both had partial cover, but Kemp was still unconscious, forcing the agent to lean in an awkward position against the post.
“This isn’t right,” Vlad whispered. “How far do we go?”
“You should have gone back with Lucille,” Brendan whispered back.
“Quit acting like a martyr. We’re all involved. It’s not just you. But we need a plan here.”
Brendan realized his jaw was clenched and his hands were gripping the stair he was sitting on. He forced himself to breath deep. He knew he didn’t have a reply. Perhaps he was prepared to wait and watch until Walters passed out or starved or died of thirst. He had no idea how long that would take. A week? Longer? The idea was ludicrous, with no beneficial outcome. There was no room in his pained heart for any more real violence. He would have to let the agent go.
After a while, he checked his phone for the time. It was four. Both Tina and Poser had sent a new text message. At the bottom of his screen was a third message from an unknown number. He opened it.
“Are you safe?”
He knew it could only have come from his father.
25. Dad Duel
Brendan added the contact number. There was no point in subterfuge. He named it Myron Reece so as not to confuse the contact with the dozen false names he’d used to disguise his father’s numbers in his phone.
“I’m safe,” Brendan replied. “Are you?”
The Dark Academy (Supervillain High Book 4) Page 15
