Nearly every hand in the audience rose, and Cohen pointed to the first guy with a microphone.
“Agent Valdez. How are you going to ensure that your team doesn’t use excessive force?”
Talon barely blinked as he answered each question evenly and succinctly. Every so often when a reporter pressed for further details, Cohen would intervene and say, “Asked and answered,” and point at another reporter to answer a different question. They covered everything from training techniques to abilities of the team, which Talon flatly refused to answer, citing measures of national security.
“But what happens if you have to kill an enhanced?” a woman reporter shouted from the back.
Talon put his head to one side. “Are you asking me if I, as an FBI agent, would kill someone if they posed a threat to other human life as I am trained to do, or are you asking if”—he looked around and spotted one of Cohen’s agents standing behind him—“that female agent there couldn’t kill a female terrorist simply because she is a woman?”
Talon relaxed a little as the reporters chuckled at his response.
Finn seemed to be coping as well. He fielded a few questions, but apart from saying what an honor it was to be chosen to be on the team, the reporters were more interested in Talon than in him. Talon didn’t care. He’d been used to difficult questions since he woke up with the mark.
“Last question, please,” Cohen stated, pointing to a guy off to the side who hadn’t spoken so far. The reporter stood eagerly and looked at Director Cohen. “Deputy Director, can you explain how you would reassure the public that the enhanced working on your new team are fully in control of their abilities and present no danger to the public they are supposed to be protecting?”
Talon stiffened imperceptibly. He’d been expecting this.
Cohen answered immediately. “I have every confidence and faith in our new team. With the exception of our new trainee, they have all undergone the same rigorous training as every single other agent.”
The reporter nodded and glanced at Talon. His heart beat once, hard.
“Then perhaps you could explain why your team leader is the same enhanced who lost control of his abilities to the extent that he was responsible for the death of his own father?”
For another heartbeat the room sat in stunned silence, and then every reporter erupted with their own questions. It was pandemonium. Talon suddenly got about ten microphones shoved in his face. How was he going to be able to control himself? Wasn’t he a threat to the public? What happened if he lost his temper with a suspect—or worse, one of his own team?
Talon didn’t dare look at Finn. He didn’t want to hear Finn’s response to the reporter who was asking him if he felt safe on the team.
Cohen’s face was an unreadable mask. “I repeat. I have every confidence in Agent Valdez. The incident you inaccurately refer to has no bearing whatsoever on the ability of Agent Valdez to do his job.” Cohen glanced at one of his lackeys, who stepped forward and indicated the press conference was at an end. He ignored the shouting and the other reporters jostling for an answer.
Finn followed Cohen and Talon out of the room.
“And that”—Cohen rounded angrily on Talon—“is exactly why this whole thing is such a damn bad idea.” He didn’t give Talon the chance to reply, completely ignored Finn, and stormed out to the waiting car.
FINN STOOD silently as agents milled around them, the reporter’s words echoing in his ears. Talon had lost control. Talon had lost control, and his father died? Finn glanced at Talon and put a hesitant hand on his arm, not sure what he should say… what he could say.
Talon shrugged it off as the others crowded around them.
“What now, boss?” Vance asked. “The crowd’s getting antsy out there.”
Before Talon got a chance to answer, the same sergeant from earlier came running in. “Judge Cryer’s car has arrived.”
Talon turned to Finn. “We go do our jobs. Put your vests on.”
TALON WALKED out, directing cops left and right. Judge Cryer exited the car as the crowd cheered, madly waving banners, and he stepped up onto the impromptu platform.
Finn followed the team as Judge Cryer was helped to stand on the platform, and scrabbled to put on the body armor Vance passed him. He snagged Vance’s arm just as he walked away. “What about you?”
“There isn’t any that will fit either me or Gael,” Vance said bluntly. “I guess they hadn’t thought of that.”
Finn ran after Vance just as someone passed Judge Cryer a microphone, and the crowd’s shouts died down a little.
“Thank you so much for your support!”
Finn stared as Judge Cryer raised his hand and gripped the microphone. He’d only seen him once before on TV, and it was well-known he was against the enhanced being anywhere except locked up. Well, with the exception of a laboratory, perhaps.
Finn looked at Talon, waiting for some sort of order. The team had spread itself around the base of the podium, staring out at the crowd. Finn was convinced Judge Cryer hadn’t even realized who was guarding him. Their uniforms weren’t recognizable, and their backs were turned to the podium. He probably thought it was a regular SWAT team.
Cryer started spewing the usual rhetoric about how the enhanced were all working for their own agenda until a guy stepped forward to the barrier, and the immediate crowd parted in horror. The man was easily six feet tall. He wasn’t far off Vance’s height, even if he was shy of Vance’s bulk. The reason the crowd was skittish of him and the two giants who flanked him was the obvious marks on their faces.
Finn’s breath caught. He recognized Isaac Dakota, the enhanced who was fighting for their rights and managing to piss off half the population while he did so. Finn glanced at Talon, but Talon was looking at the crowd. Finn didn’t know what to do. His gun was secured in his holster, but he wasn’t 100 percent sure he would have what it took to pull it out if it was needed.
One of Talon’s instructions came back to him. Whatever you’re firing at, remember what’s behind them. He knew damn well he wasn’t accurate enough to fire into the crowd.
Finn took a step, going to stand with Talon. His eyes worked even if he wasn’t of much more use. Finn glanced back, and Gael gave him a grim look.
Gael was nearest the platform, and Finn noticed one of the guys with Cryer was pointing to Gael’s jacket. Cryer snapped his head up as he parted his lips. For a second Finn enjoyed the look of surprise on his face.
He’d just been told who was ready to take a bullet for him.
Every eye in the crowd swung around as Dakota shouted loudly, “And who are the FBI agents who are protecting your ass this morning, Cryer?”
Cryer started blustering, and Finn understood suddenly why they were there. To make a point. To say it was the uniform that mattered, not who was wearing it.
Finn turned. Something in the crowd to the left caught his eye, and no matter how many times he thought about it afterward, he wouldn’t have been able to say what it was. The crowd was pushing at the barriers, and the cops were trying to hold them back. Shouts and insults started flying. Cryer was getting louder. The few supporters who came with Dakota were beginning to respond. TV cameras were filming even as the cops were trying to keep the reporters back.
The single gunshot that rang out from the crowd was all the more deafening because it was quiet.
If Finn hadn’t turned, he wouldn’t have seen it. They said in moments of extreme stress, it seemed as if time slowed down. Finn would never have believed it up to that second.
The instant the gun fired at Cryer, Gael was already moving. In the blink of an eye, he had leaped onto the platform and blocked Cryer, clutching Cryer’s body with his two huge arms. The bullet slammed into Gael’s back.
Screams erupted from the crowd, and panic broke out. Barriers were overturned. People pushed and shoved. People fell and were stepped on. The HEROs stepped right into the crowd and started protecting people from being crushed. Talon lifted u
p a woman who had fallen, her placard saying Monsters ignored as she tightened her arms around Talon’s neck.
Finn rushed to the platform. The force from the bullet had knocked Gael and Cryer over. Cryer’s men were trying to pull Gael off him.
“Enough,” Gael shouted, which made them all freeze in shocked silence that the man who just took a bullet was talking at all. Gael raised a hand and stood slowly as Finn got to him. He shook his shoulders and winced.
“Gael, be careful. Sit,” Finn said desperately, searching for blood, but despite the hole in the jacket, he couldn’t see any.
Gael ignored him and turned to Cryer. “Sorry I knocked you down, sir. Are you hurt?”
Cryer mutely shook his head, looking at Gael as if he were some sort of alien. Then all of a sudden, the paramedics were there, and a lot of people were talking.
“Gael.” Finn closed his fingers around his arm.
Gael turned to him and grinned. “I’m fine, honest.” He looked at the remnants of the crowd and saw Talon and Eli jogging back to them. The cops had also rounded up the reporters who hadn’t scattered in the panic.
Talon nodded to them. “They’re hoping the cameras might have got some footage to identify the shooter. Anything is going to be sent directly to Gregory.”
“Where’s Sawyer?” Vance asked.
“He thinks he saw the shooter, but the guy seems to have vanished. He’s directing the cops, but I think it will be a waste of time.” Talon looked at Gael. “You okay?”
Finn had had enough. “Okay?” he shouted incredulously. “He got shot!” He turned to Gael. “You need the paramedics. You should be in the hospital.”
Gael stepped closer to Finn. “Shh, kid. I’ll explain in the truck, but the bullet didn’t penetrate my skin. I’m fine. Just a little bruised.”
Finn swallowed. He didn’t know what to say.
More cops had arrived, and Talon was talking to them. One of them shook his hand, and Talon turned. “Gregory wants us back at the office.”
Finn looked as the paramedics finished with Cryer. He wasn’t looking at Gael. He wasn’t looking at the man who just saved his life, and as Finn glanced at Gael, he realized Gael wasn’t expecting any acknowledgment either. This was their life. He knew cops, military, and thousands of others put themselves in the line of fire every day without getting thanks, but Cryer was deliberately keeping his gaze lowered.
Cryer wasn’t going to publicly acknowledge an enhanced had just saved his life, and that sucked big-time.
Chapter Eleven
“I WANT to know what just happened,” Finn demanded as they shut the truck doors.
“You okay?” Vance asked Gael, as Gael winced a little and took his shirt off. Vance brushed a hand over Gael’s back. No bullet hole, no blood.
Finn looked at the material on the shirt suspiciously, then picked it up. He carefully poked his finger through the hole in the back where the bullet had gone through, and with a sinking feeling, raised his eyes to where Vance was watching him steadily.
He thought a second before he ran his mouth off. Then he turned to Talon, who was sitting quietly in the front seat, watching him. “So next time someone’s waving a gun around, can I stand next to Gael, boss?” Finn asked innocently.
Gael guffawed and slapped Finn on the back. Finn tried not to wince.
“I take it this is your other ability? What is it, rapid healing?” Finn frowned. That still didn’t explain the lack of blood, though.
“Not exactly,” Gael answered.
“Gael,” Sawyer said warningly.
Gael looked at the guys sitting around the truck. “We’ve got a decision to make. We can’t work as a team without trust.” He looked at Finn. “To be honest the TV cameras saw me take the bullet, saw me move fast. There’s going to be questions anyway.”
Finn took a breath. “I know you don’t trust me.”
Talon interjected. “It’s not as easy as that. Even Gregory doesn’t know all our abilities, and we can’t expect you to lie if you’re asked a direct question.”
“I can change the…. I dunno.” Gael shrugged. “Last year I got skin cancer.”
Finn gaped.
“Cutaneous melanoma, to give it its full title.” Gael’s scars twisted when he tried to smile. “It was shit, really. It’s the most aggressive form of cancer, and you’re pretty much out of luck if it’s spread.” Gael gazed at Finn. “Mine had. Anyway, Talon and Gregory gave me a chance. We can’t get health insurance, and because the team wasn’t official, the bureau wasn’t gonna pay for anything…. So you met the doc?”
Finn nodded.
“Well, turns out her daddy is one of the most renowned dermatologists there are, and he was fascinated with me. I had a shit-ton of tests, and I was waiting for the results when we were asked to help with a special op last year. Drug running, but they thought an enhanced was behind it, so they asked for our help… unofficially.”
Finn returned Gael’s smile automatically, even though his heart was doing its best to escape his chest.
“Things went wrong, and Talon got knocked out so he couldn’t help. They had Vance pinned down and were just going to shoot him. I thought, what the hell. It was likely I was going to die anyway, so—”
“What he means is, he threw himself at the dickhead with the Tec-9 that was just about to blow my brains out,” Vance interrupted.
Gael chuckled. “The thing happened with my skin like you saw today. None of the bullets touched me. I went for a load of tests, and they found out there’s something called a KLF4 gene in everyone that is responsible for making human skin a barrier. Anyway, I won’t bore you with science, but basically the levels of it in me are off the charts. This gene doesn’t just protect the skin, though—it can have something to do with melanoma and other cancers. The doc called it ‘a double-edged sword.’”
Finn swallowed. “It’s an activator and a repressor. That means it helps as well as harms.”
“How the hell do you know all this shit?” Sawyer burst out.
Finn shrugged. “It took me so long to learn to read, once I had, there was no stopping me.”
“Anyway, my skin changing didn’t just save Vance. When I got back and went to Doc’s, all traces of my cancer were gone, and Gregory doesn’t know because Doc’s father doesn’t work for the FBI. Doctor-patient privilege.”
“We keep it secret because we don’t want to end up as lab rats,” Talon said quietly, his blue gaze resting on Finn’s.
Finn frowned. “Secrecy won’t necessarily help that, though. The public knows you saved Cryer’s life—they’re gonna be more on your side.”
“Agreed with provisos,” Talon said. “I don’t want a perp suddenly deciding to see if Gael can withstand armor-piercing rounds.”
They all winced.
Talon started the truck and looked around at everyone. “We agreed on secrecy a long time ago. I get where Finn is coming from, but I’m not gonna insist on it. You all will have to come to your own decision.” Without waiting for a reply, Talon added, “Gregory wants us back at the office.”
Finn stared at Talon’s back. He hadn’t forgotten what that reporter said, and despite his nice little speech there, he hadn’t done any sharing. Finn now knew more about Gael than Talon. What he knew about Talon, Vance had told him, and Talon was supposed to be his partner, not just a member of the team. It all came down to trust. Talon gave him no direction out there. He didn’t even tell Finn to stay with him. That showed a glaring lack of trust as far as he was concerned.
He gazed out of the window. He was squashed up against the door, as Gael’s bulk sat next to him. He thought about what that reporter said about Talon. Had Talon really lost control and killed his father? Finn remembered the tightness in his chest when Talon demonstrated his ability on him, how he couldn’t breathe, how he couldn’t move.
Maybe Finn should be the one not trusting the team, not the other way around.
“Hey, kid,” Gael said.
> Finn sighed. It looked like they were all gonna call him that.
“There’s a bar near my place. How about we all meet up later?”
Vance protested, “That bar’s got the most expensive beer in town. Why do you always want to go there?”
Gael shrugged. “It’s quiet.”
Sawyer piped up. “That’s because it’s only tourists who can afford to drink there.”
“What do you think, kid?” Gael asked. “It’s about four miles away from your place.”
Finn looked up eagerly, then remembered he barely had any money left, and he still was a good eight days from getting any wages. There was no way he could go to a pricey bar. Shit. “I-I can’t,” he stammered. “Maybe next week?”
Gael shrugged. “Sure, kid.” He turned to talk to Talon.
Finn cringed. He could have screamed in frustration. Just as they were giving him the opportunity to get to know them better, they thought he wasn’t interested.
They pulled up at the office a little subdued. Well, Vance was silent, anyway, and he usually carried the conversation for the rest of them, so maybe that was why they seemed a little quiet. They trooped into the classroom, and Agent Gregory appeared a few minutes later.
He beamed. “Congratulations. All the networks are covering how you saved Judge Cryer’s life. We haven’t been able to secure the shooter, unfortunately, but that’s someone else’s problem and not this team’s.”
“I’m surprised the papers aren’t blaming it on an enhanced, though. He was quite vocally against us,” Gael said.
“He has put a lot of criminals away in the last thirty years,” Gregory replied. “Most notably the leader of the Al Cairo drug cartel the year before he retired. We had already warned him that a new territorial leader had been appointed, and Cryer’s execution would make a good first week. He chose to ignore the warning, and a few of the papers have run with that story.” Gregory pinned a stare at Gael. “You look remarkably well for someone who just took a round in the back,” he said dryly. “But we’ll discuss that later.” He sat at the table, passed out a bunch of brown folders, and leaned back as everyone opened one.
Five Minutes Longer Page 10
