Relentless

by Robin Parrish

  Alex sat back in her seat, apparently finished.

  Grant sighed. ‘‘All right. Thank you for telling the truth. Better late than never. Your turn, Doc,’’ he said, but didn’t stop watching Alex.

  ‘‘The Keeper has the Dominion Stone,’’ Daniel announced, generating a new swell of murmurs around the circle.

  ‘‘So it’s safe to assume that he knows everything we know,’’ Grant said.

  ‘‘It’s safer to assume he knows a whole lot more than we know,’’ said Fletcher.

  ‘‘How did you come by this information, Doctor?’’ Morgan inquired.

  ‘‘Matthew Drexel told me,’’ he replied.

  ‘‘You’ve seen him?’’ Morgan asked in a quiet voice. ‘‘Was it him—?’’

  Daniel nodded. ‘‘He hired Konrad to burn your building to the ground,’’ he said, which drew another round of surprised expressions and mumbling. ‘‘But Drexel himself was acting under orders. He was working for the Keeper all along.’’

  Grant fought the urge to curse.

  Another manipulation.

  This had to stop.

  Now.

  ‘‘Where is Drexel currently?’’ Payton snarled. It was plain to see that he was thinking exactly as Grant was.

  ‘‘He’s, um—’’

  ‘‘A dead issue,’’ Lisa blurted out, lifeless eyes staring ahead into nothing.

  ‘‘And we know for certain that Drexel was working for the Secretum? There’s evidence of this?’’ Morgan asked.

  ‘‘Oh, come on, Morgan,’’ Grant said forcefully, before Daniel could answer. He rose from his chair with an exasperated expression. ‘‘Look at how Alex has been used for so long. He reeled Hannah in because she could get close to us. You’ve been a pawn in this thing for over a decade, with the tablet and Drexel and everything that happened at the asylum. Daniel nearly lost his life a few weeks ago. Payton was saved and trained at the hands of the Secretum. And then there’s everything that’s happened to me . . .

  ‘‘Does anyone in this room seriously believe that they haven’t been manipulated by the Keeper in one way or another? Everything that’s happened to all of us points straight back to him. And personally . . .

  I’m sick of it.’’

  Grant was pacing now, holding their full attention.

  ‘‘I’ve just had enough, haven’t you?’’ he asked them all. ‘‘Everything we’re talking about comes back to this one issue: The Keeper has ruined all of our lives. He’s killed innocent people. He’s Shifted us, and given us bizarre abilities that none of us asked for. To what end, I can’t imagine. He’s manipulated our entire lives, pulled and prodded us, changed everything about who we are . . .’’

  He stopped pacing.

  ‘‘And I don’t know about you, but I’d like to show him the depth of his mistake.’’

  Payton’s eyes lit up, but everyone else looked at one another timidly.

  ‘‘So it’s like this. We can either sit back and wait for whatever’s going to happen . . . or we can end the manipulations and stop all this before it happens. Right now.’’

  ‘‘But how can it be stopped?’’ Hannah spoke up for the first time. ‘‘If it’s predestined to be, then isn’t it inevitable, no matter what we do?’’

  Grant was pensive, lost in thought.

  No one spoke as his mind filled with thoughts at a frenetic pace, weighing options and making very fast decisions.

  ‘‘What are you thinking, Grant?’’ asked Morgan.

  His shoulders dropped. ‘‘I’m thinking I’m tired of running defense.

  I’m tired of just taking whatever is dished out at me. I’m thinking it’s time we end this.’’

  ‘‘How?’’ Morgan asked.

  ‘‘Look around this room, all of you. In this one location, we have over a dozen individuals who can do things that no one else in the world can do. Haven’t any of you wondered what might happen if we pooled those gifts and used them in a single, concerted effort?’’

  From their reactions, most of them hadn’t.

  ‘‘I know,’’ he continued, ‘‘this is not what any of you want. But I refuse to believe that fate reigns supreme. I believe we might just be able to pull off the impossible.’’

  Glances were exchanged once again, though many of them were filled with fear. Others, with a hardened resolve.

  ‘‘I’m in,’’ Payton said, his arms folded across his chest. ‘‘But the Keeper could be any Joe Bloggs on the street. How are we supposed to find him?’’

  ‘‘We don’t have to. I think I’ve finally figured it out,’’ Grant replied, turning his gaze to Hannah. ‘‘I just remembered. It was a secret place . . . underground.’’

  Hannah nodded back to him, thinking the same thing.

  ‘‘We’re going to need detailed plans of that facility,’’ Grant said, still gazing at Hannah.

  ‘‘You’ll have them,’’ she replied, her features confident and set.

  ‘‘Once we have those plans, Morgan, I want you to memorize every square inch of them. Put your head together with Fletcher and Daniel to formulate a strategy for getting us in.’’

  Morgan nodded apprehensively, immediately catching on.

  ‘‘Payton, you and I will be on point. Hannah, we’ll need you to cover us with misdirection.’’

  ‘‘I’ve got plenty of tricks left up my sleeve,’’ she replied, smiling grimly.

  Grant nodded. ‘‘It’s not going to be as easy this time . . . Surely they’ve beefed up security since we were there.’’

  When no one said anything for a few moments, Grant took the lead. ‘‘Let’s get to work, then. Everyone without an assignment, you know your talents. Make yourselves useful. We go at sundown tomorrow.’’

  59

  ‘‘Lisa, you in position?’’ Daniel’s voice echoed in her ear. He sounded nervous and it was nice that his concern was for her.

  ‘‘Have I mentioned how much I hate this plan?’’ she whispered back in a helpless voice through her earpiece.

  ‘‘Only in every way possible,’’ Daniel replied. ‘‘Just be careful.’’

  Lisa peered out through the windshield of the van, noting with growing fear that dusk was nearly over.

  Which meant it was time.

  She glanced at her watch. Almost seven o’clock.

  The comm link was silent as she said nothing, running over the plan once again in her mind.

  All the while, her eyes twitched to and fro across the landscape before her, her thoughts racing back to the events of two nights ago, when the man she loved had taken another’s life in cold blood.

  Well, that wasn’t exactly right. Drexel had been about to fire at him . . .

  Still, Daniel could have shot him in the arm or something.

  But he didn’t. He chose exactly where to— ‘‘The others are ready,’’ Morgan reported to both of them, also on the communications system.

  ‘‘Let’s get this over with,’’ Lisa sighed.

  ‘‘Fletcher, get ready for my signal,’’ said Daniel.

  Fletcher put his hands on the wheel of his van, which was identical to the one Lisa drove.

  ‘‘I’m ready whenever,’’ he said in a bored voice.

  Grant held Hannah by both hands. They’d been interrupted before he could show her that he’d forgiven her and things had only gotten busier since then. Payton waited behind them, ready to spring into action. There’d been little point, despite the man’s injuries, in trying to convince the swordsman to sit this out.

  This was endgame.

  ‘‘Hannah, we need you in place,’’ Morgan said.

  ‘‘You know what to do,’’ Grant said to Hannah, mustering confidence. He’d surrendered to his feelings before and those he’d loved had disappeared or gotten hurt.

  ‘‘I always know what to do when I’m with you,’’ Hannah replied.

  Still confident, still calm.

  He watched her—watched every square inch of her
—with longing.

  But there was nothing else to say. The silence between them said it all.

  ‘‘It’s time,’’ Payton said from behind, still looking away.

  Grant let go of her and turned to join Payton.

  ‘‘Be careful,’’ Hannah called out.

  ‘‘You too,’’ he spun his head.

  But she was already gone.

  ‘‘Please be careful,’’ he whispered.

  Did they have any chance of succeeding at this?

  Was it crazy, what they were about to attempt?

  No. The Keeper has to be stopped. No more manipulating.

  He closed his eyes, remembering the sight of that enormous, round metal door underground . . .

  ‘‘We’re standing by,’’ Grant heard Payton say into his comm link.

  Grant’s eyes were out of focus, staring into nothing. Payton glanced at him.

  ‘‘Are you sure you’re ready for this?’’ Payton whispered, covering his microphone.

  Grant nodded vacantly.

  ‘‘You know not everyone will survive,’’ Payton said.

  ‘‘Yeah,’’ Grant replied, his voice already dead.

  ‘‘Alex, are you in place?’’ they heard Daniel’s voice say into their ears.

  ‘‘Almost,’’ Alex replied.

  Grant snapped back to reality with something that had been tugging at the back of his mind since yesterday.

  ‘‘Hey Alex?’’ Grant said. ‘‘You never said what your special ability was. When you had a ring of your own.’’

  ‘‘I was empathic,’’ she replied, whispering. ‘‘I could feel other people’s emotions. I could even zero-in on someone feeling a specific emotion and find them in a crowd.’’

  ‘‘But how would that drive a person insane?’’

  ‘‘I could implant emotions, too. Force others to feel what I wanted them to feel.’’

  Grant didn’t reply.

  ‘‘This is harder than I thought,’’ she said softly. Grant realized she was talking about the task at hand.

  ‘‘Come on, Alex, it’s time to go,’’ said Daniel.

  ‘‘Working on it. . . .’’ she replied.

  ‘‘Can you do this, girl, or do you require help?’’ Payton grunted.

  Grant frowned.

  ‘‘I said I’ve got it,’’ Alex replied. ‘‘Call me ‘girl’ again and I’ll choke you in your sleep.’’

  ‘‘Lisa, you’re up,’’ Daniel said.

  In reply, Lisa punched the gas pedal, and her van roared to life. She ignored her instincts, which were telling her to slow down, and instead increased her speed, aiming straight at the barred gate ahead.

  ‘‘On my mark . . .’’ Morgan said.

  The gate drew closer, and she could see men pacing on either side of it in the distance.

  ‘‘I think it’s now!’’ Lisa cried, fingering a switch attached to a device in the empty seat beside her.

  ‘‘Not yet,’’ Morgan replied calmly, sounding distracted. She was no doubt keeping track of several things in her head—the speed of the van, the distance of the gate—in order to time this just right.

  Lisa chose to trust her, but her heart was pounding so hard she thought she might pass out.

  She was barreling forward at more than sixty miles an hour, and the gate was so close that she could read Inveo Technologies—Security written across the white metal arm in red.

  ‘‘Now!’’ Morgan said.

  Lisa flicked the switch and opened her door at the same time. The small device began to beep.

  Five seconds . . . Not nearly enough time, what were they thinking!

  She caught a fleeting glimpse of the guards ahead spotting the van for the first time as it devoured pavement on its way to meet them . . .

  And then she was hurling herself out of the van and rolling on the grass beside the driveway. There was no time to stop, she picked herself up and ran for cover behind a brick wall on one side of the gate.

  But before she reached it, an explosion ripped through the air behind her and toppled her.

  Flames, smoke, and noise engulfed her. But she was in. Just as planned.

  Fletcher floored the gas pedal on his van, racing toward another gate on the opposite side of the massive Inveo campus.

  At Morgan’s command, he bailed too, and a second explosion went off.

  Grant and Payton scaled a tree right outside the Inveo property to a branch high among its limbs and watched the action on the ground inside. Right on cue, the two explosions went off one after the other.

  Guards poured from the various buildings and ran for the first gate when the second blast caught them by surprise.

  Grant had to admit, his experience at Inveo two months ago had obviously made an impression. Their security force was at least three times the size it was when he was last here, and the black-clad men appeared much more efficient and better trained.

  A few of the guards barked orders, and then several broke off from the main group and got into security cars, driving to the second gate. Others made for the two remaining gates, as a preemptive measure.

  But the garage facility that he and Payton watched with interest was still occupied. Only now the guards they could see inside stood at attention, their weapons held at the ready. The security force was prepared for this. They wouldn’t allow all of their men to be distracted so easily.

  As expected, Grant thought.

  But there was no time to lose. Police and firemen would be along soon.

  ‘‘Alex, your turn,’’ Daniel said.

  Pandemonium reigned inside the Inveo complex.

  The second shift was hard at work when the alarms started blaring and the warehouses and business towers were ordered to evacuate immediately.

  Workers filed quickly out of the buildings, directed by guards telling them where to go and repeatedly shouting, ‘‘Please remain calm!’’

  ‘‘Coast is clear, Alex,’’ Morgan whispered.

  Alex took a deep breath and emerged from her hiding place by the garage bunker.

  She steadied herself as she walked lazily in front of the large garage doors, all three of which were raised and open. Men stirred about inside, many gripping formidable weapons in their hands.

  There was a moment’s stunned silence as the men spotted her.

  Alex wore nothing but a terrycloth robe. Her hair was sopping wet, and she was uncharacteristically wearing makeup—Hannah, who had cooked up this part of the plan, seemed to relish giving her a ‘‘much needed makeover.’’ Hannah herself had desired this job, but she was needed elsewhere.

  Alex peered at the nearest guard over dark sunglasses with a bored expression. An unlit cigarette dangled between two fingers, and her other hand rested in a side pocket.

  ‘‘This area is restricted, ma’am,’’ the stunned guard said, still taking her in, scrapes, bruises, Band-Aids, and all.

  She noticed his look and glanced down at herself. ‘‘Dreadful golfing accident. I’d rather not dwell,’’ she said, offering her best impression of Hannah’s sultry accent and turning to look back at the chaos running rampant all around them.

  ‘‘You’re not allowed to be here,’’ the guard said, nearly tripping over his own feet.

  ‘‘Then perhaps you could be a sweet thing,’’ Alex replied, massaging her neck with one hand, ‘‘and direct me to the executive jacuzzi. I could really use some . . . downtime.’’

  ‘‘Umm . . .’’ the man stared at her bug-eyed, as several other guards gathered round, all of them sizing her up and down, many with smiles.

  ‘‘All this excitement is making me ever so tense, boys,’’ she said, smirking. The sunglasses had slid down to the tip of her nose now and she looked over them, even batting her eyes once.

  ‘‘I’ll take you there,’’ one of the other guards said, grinning.

  ‘‘Thanks, handsome,’’ she said. She walked to him and lit her cigarette. ‘‘Hold this for a second, would you?’�
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  She slid her sunglasses back up.

  The guard held the fake cigarette in his hand just as it went off.

  The entire group of guards shouted in pain and staggered backward, blinded by the brilliant light of a flash bomb.

  Alex flung the robe aside to reveal a tank top and rolled-up jeans underneath. She pulled a small canister the size of a tube of lipstick from her pocket and sprayed it into the faces of the hunched-over guards. The gas worked quickly and soon each fell unconscious.

  Pocketing the canister, Alex fingered her earpiece with her free hand.

  ‘‘Grant, time to ring the bell,’’ she said, unable to suppress a smile.

  60

  Hannah watched from her position as Grant and Payton jumped over the fence from their high perch in the tree. A nearby guard was turning in their direction but Hannah held her gaze on him until Grant and Payton were clear, ensuring he saw nothing but empty ground.

  Hannah turned a full circle, keeping an eye on every direction. Three hundred yards away stood a guard tower from which a bright search light swept back and forth across the grounds. She could barely make out the tiny outline of the guard who stood behind the light, scanning for intruders.

  You are going to be a problem, she thought.

  She heard a female guard approaching her own position but deflected the woman as soon as she came into view. The guard walked close enough to touch Hannah yet never saw her.

  ‘‘Hannah,’’ Grant whispered.

  She turned. At the corner of one of the taller buildings, a few hundred feet away, she spotted Grant and Payton crouching. Grant was watching her. A group of guards drove past them in a security car, and they ducked down as low as they could get. A separate guard paced across the front of the building, blocking their next move. As the patrol car passed them by, she sent an image into the marching guard’s mind.

  Spotting a flickering flashlight at the other side of the building, he started and then ran toward the imaginary light.

  Away from Grant and Payton.

  They had their opening and bolted for the garage.