by C. A. Wilke
She closed her eyes and shook her head. “Well, better get this over with.”
“Get what over with?” The voice was male and familiar.
Scarlett’s eyes snapped open. Thirty feet away, at the far end of the room, stood the FBI agent, his gun trained on her.
“Now, I don’t think I could have made the shot that took out Zinchenko. But from here I can’t miss.”
Scarlett looked up and froze. She recognized the man as Agent Barnes from outside Dax’s apartment.
His eyes narrowed. “You.”
She smiled. “Me.”
“I should have known it’d be you.” Agent Barnes stepped closer.
“Am I that transparent?”
“You working for one of the rival Russians? Barov maybe? Or maybe one of the others is moving in... The Italians? Mexicans? The bikers?”
She rested her hands on her head. Her thumb slipped down and touched the skin behind her ear.
“It’s about damn time. What the hell is going on?” Dax said.
She cleared her throat. “Sorry, no dice Agent Barnes.”
“Then why?”
“Agent Barnes?” Dax whispered.
Scarlett took a small step forward. “Hypothetically speaking... If I were the one to take out Zinchenko, it wouldn’t be for power or money. It’d be because he deserved it.”
“So you’re some kind of vigilante or something?” Agent Barnes said.
She smiled. “I said hypothetically.”
“Well, whoever you really are, you’re very talented. I saw the mess you made in the other room. Was that all you too?”
“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about. Aren’t you supposed to be watching Mr. Lewis?”
“Zinchenko took priority.” Agent Barnes reached into his pocket and pulled out a small comm device.
Scarlett lowered her hands. “I wouldn’t call for any backup, if I was you.”
The agent stopped and tilted his head. “Are you threatening me?”
“No.”
“Good.”
“It’s just that—”
Agent Barnes adjusted his grip on his gun.
Scarlett sighed. “It’s just that, I don’t want you to get hurt.”
The agent scoffed.
He lifted the comm to his ear and pressed a button. “Command, this is Agent Barnes requesting assis—”
A high pitched whine erupted from the small device. Agent Barnes cringed and threw it away. The comm hit the wall and shattered, silencing its piercing wail.
The agent held his hand over his ear and bent over in pain. When he pulled his hand away, blood trickled down his palm and the side of his face.
Scarlett closed the distance between them and ripped the gun from his hand. She stepped back and leveled the weapon at him. “I told you, you shouldn’t have done that.”
He looked up at her and raised his hands. “Now think careful what your next move is. You don’t want to do this.”
She sighed. “Really? After all this, you think I’m interested in killing you?”
“Then what do you want?”
Scarlett lowered the pistol but stayed ready. “Out of here for number one. Then I’m looking forward to a hot bath.” Her face scrunched. “And put your hands down, you look like an idiot.”
Agent Barnes lowered his arms and covered his bleeding ear. “Are you always this crazy?”
“Usually.”
“So what now?”
“Well.” She glanced around. “You’ll find that Mr. Zinchenko had some of his men perform some rather ugly acts recently. They just finished torturing two men at the MakerMasters on Lakeshore. One of them is dead.”
Agent Barnes’s head sagged. “I’m sorry.”
“Me too.”
A long, awkward moment hung in the air. Dax’s words broke the silence. “Remember there are more feds on the way? You only have a few seconds.”
Scarlett nodded. “Right.”
“Huh?” Agent Barnes’s face wrinkled in confusion.
Scarlett stepped toward her exit door but stayed facing Agent Barnes. “Nevermind. I just want you to know, I’m on your side.”
“By blowing out my ear drum and taking my gun? Sure, you’re on my side.”
“It’ll heal. Just know that I’m not a threat to you or any of your agents.”
“How do we know that?”
“You’ll have to trust me.” Scarlett twirled the gun on her finger and flipped it around so the handle was facing Agent Barnes. She pulled out a handkerchief and wiped the weapon down. When she was just a couple feet from the door, she set the weapon on the ground and slid it over to him.
Agent Barnes stopped the sliding gun with his foot.
Scarlett opened the door. “You know, I could have killed you.” She stepped into the dark hallway. “Have a good day, Agent Barnes. I look forward to the next time we meet. And I hope it is under better circumstances.”
She closed the door headed down the corridor. A moment later, she was standing outside at the back of the facility. Ahead, the asphalt parking lot ended at the base of a hill covered in yellow grasses. Oh joy. Scarlett sighed and jogged up the hill.
“Were you just flirting?” Dax’s voice in her ear almost made her jump.
She scoffed. “No.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Shut up.”
“Sure thing.” Amusement echoed in his voice.
“Oh and Dax?”
“Yeah?”
Scarlett stopped for a second. “Thanks.”
“No problem.”
“You know what this means, though, right?” She turned around and looked down at the warehouse below. Four cars sat on the far side of the building with red and blue lights flashing.
“What’s that?”
She turned and stepped over the crest of the hill. “It means we’re going after Derrick next.”
Chapter 38
Thirty-Four Percent
Once again, because of me, friends get hurt and die. Despite my desire to be solitary, it’s not realistic. Now I seek what the weak cannot... vengeance and justice.
* * *
In the hospital, Mickey told Scarlett what had happened. Devan and the rest of Zinchenko’s cronies had made Mickey watch as they broke Janson’s fingers one by one. It wasn’t until after they’d destroyed Janson’s right hand that they finally told Mickey to hack into the National Security Monitoring Network—a massive collection of government and private security cameras spanning the country.
To add to the pressure, for every minute he took to find Scarlett, they broke another of Janson’s fingers. After the thugs had Scarlett’s location, they broke both Mickey’s legs and put a bullet in Janson’s skull.
Scarlett apologized to Mickey for getting them involved, but he dismissed it. He told her that they would have done the same thing to Dax already if she hadn’t stopped them. Still, she felt responsible and took care of his hospital bills.
Janson had no family, no one to notify of his death. He hadn’t even made a will, meaning MakerMasters was going to become the property of the state. At Scarlett’s request, Dax changed that. She had him forge an electronic will naming himself and Mickey as co-owners. Instead, he gave himself and Mickey each a thirty-three percent ownership stake in the shop. The other thirty-four he gave to Scarlett for killing Zinchenko.
The day after Mickey was released from the hospital, the three of them held a quiet vigil inside the shop. They kept it simple and ordered Janson’s favorite pizza. Dax and Mickey spent the night sharing stories about their friend while Scarlett listened.
Dax closed his eyes for a second and chuckled. When they opened again, a smile spread across his face. “I remember when I first met Janson. These gang-bangers were chasing me. I’m running through the warehouse district and duck into this place. Didn’t know what it was, didn’t care. The door was open.”
Scarlett snickered. “That sounds like you.”
“Anyway,
I yell at this big guy in a dirty apron if there’s a back exit. He looks me up and down, and pulls me to the back of the shop. We’re behind a few shelves when the front door bursts open. He shoves me into this bin and dumps a barrel of crappy old circuit boards and broken junk on top of me. Then I hear the back door open and close again.
“A second later, I hear the bangers threatening to trash the shop. Janson storms up to them and yells at them, accusing them of being my friends. He acts all pissed and tells them I made a big mess in the back before running out the back. The dumbasses run right past me out the back door.”
All three of them laughed. When the noise died down, Scarlett was the first to speak. “So, what happened?”
“Well, I never saw those asshats again. But when I climbed out from that bin, Janson was standing there with his arms crossed. He just looked at me and said. ‘Boy… you better clean up this mess you made.’ I looked down and he had dumped half the shelf all around me. I spent the next three hours cleaning that place up.”
The room filled with laughter again.
The next day, Scarlett stood in the middle of MakerMasters. Shelves of equipment, some junk, some not, surrounded her. Her finger traced the edges of the Callison HyperVac III motor’s nameplate.
“Oh, Janson. I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
“What’dya say?” Mickey’s voice made her jump.
“Hm? Oh, nothing.”
The hacker rolled by in his wheelchair. Several boxes of parts sat on his lap as he headed for the back. “Whatever.”
Dax lumbered by, his arms laden down with more boxes. “Eh, don’t mind him. He’s just pissed off because I’m making him take the heavier stuff. I mean, it’s not like he’s actually carrying it, right?”
“Dax, c’mon. The man’s legs were broken. Give him a break.”
He stopped and turned to look at Scarlett, a wide smirk on his face.
She furrowed her brow in confusion. “What?”
Mickey pulled up beside her. “Really? Give me a break?”
Scarlett’s hand flew up to her mouth. “Oh, shit. I’m sorry Mickey. I didn’t mean—”
Laughter erupted from Dax as he struggled not to drop his boxes.
A smile cracked across Mickey’s face. “Don’t worry. It was kinda funny.”
She smiled. “Yeah, it kinda was.”
Dax’s laughter settled into a few snickers. He shifted his load then headed back to put them away.
“I’ve been meaning to ask you,” Mickey’s hands slipped on the wheels as he turned his chair around to be face to face with Scarlett. “How are we going to run this place? Who’s gonna man the front, order the supplies or whatever?”
Scarlett thought for a second. “You are.”
“What?”
“You don’t have a job, right?”
Mickey’s eyes narrowed. “Right.”
“Well, now you do. For all intents and purposes, this place is yours.”
“But I...”
“Look,” She put her hand on his shoulder. “I know you watched over the place for Janson a few times. You know MakerMasters’ operations better than any of us. It has to be you.”
“Are you sure? You’re the controlling partner.”
She turned and adjusted a few pieces of equipment on the shelf. “Silent. Silent partner. And don’t worry, we’ll help when you need it.”
Mickey considered the idea. “What about Dax? Did he agree to that?”
She smiled. “Don’t worry about Dax. I’ll talk to him. Besides, I’ve more than enough work for him.”
“Uh... Okay then.”
“Alright.” Scarlett patted Mickey on the shoulder. “Hey, I’ve got a project I wanna get started on, so I’m gonna head to the back. You good up here?”
He looked around. “Yeah.” His chair jerked forward and came to rest behind the counter. Mickey ran his hands along the plastic laminate surface and smiled. “Yep. I’m good.”
At the back of the shop, she found Dax unpacking a box.
“Dax, what name did you register my ownership under?” She leaned against one of the tables and folded her arms.
“Scarlett Angel, why? That’s you, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, but... I want some separation between me and this shop. In fact, I’m going to need a new persona for stuff like this. Can you create a fake id and background? I’ll supply the information.”
He stopped and dropped the now empty box to the floor. “Well, sure, I guess. But if anyone really digs, they’ll probably find out.”
“I’ll take what I can get. Just something for the casual observer, ya know?”
“Kay. What’s the name?”
She stood and shoved her hands into her pockets. Her eyes became distant for a moment then refocused back on Dax. “Jillian Mallack. I’ll put together a bio and family connections.”
“You got it.”
Scarlett turned to walk away but something on the shelf caught her attention. “Oh, are those micro-proximity sensors?”
Dax’s voice was flat. “You mean the ones I just put there?”
“Yep.” She smiled innocently. “Gimme that box.”
He picked the cardboard cube back up off the floor and handed it to her. She took the container and started filling it with the sensors and the rest of the things he’d just stocked on the shelf.
“Ooo. I need these too. And this.” She smiled, thanked him and walked away.
His jaw set to the side, Dax watched her sit at one of the tables across the room.
* * *
Scarlett awoke and bolted upright in her chair. Her heart pounded in her chest as if it was trying to get out. The state of panic from her nightmare left her hyperaware.
She was alone in the MakerMasters’ workshop. Beside her, a lamp illuminated the table and her project. Everything beyond the small light was dark. With the back of her hand, she wiped the drool from the side of her face and the table.
Her skin still crawled with the memory of Derrick’s fingers. In her nightmare, they were still lovers. Every time she’d looked away from him, she’d had the feeling he changed into some kind of Hyde monster. But when she’d look back he was his normal Dr. Jekyl-self.
The dream was like a stretched rubber band snapping against her emotions. The pangs of betrayal and loss left her raw all over again. As she started cleaning up her mess on the table, she realized tears were trickling down her cheeks.
She wiped them away. “What the hell?”
Scarlett looked at the wetness on her hand.
“I’ll be damned if I cry over that sonofabitch.”
Scarlett stowed the rest of her project’s pieces into the box and headed for the door.
Chapter 39
Waiting
Margaret Thatcher once said, “I’m extraordinarily patient, provided I get my own way in the end.”
* * *
Scarlett sat on the wooden bench and tossed a nugget of brown bread at a small grouping of ducks. The birds swarmed around the morsel, nipping at each other and squawking. Ahead was the large pond the birds claimed as their home.
“Don’t you think this is a little cliché Mr. Collier, meeting at a duck pond? I mean, it’s a little spy movie-esque.” She kept her head straight, forcing herself not to look at the husky man.
A light breeze ruffled the thin hair on the top of his head. “I suppose it is. Still, it is a nice way to break up the day.” His raspy voice was present, even without his usual cigar.
She tossed another scrap of bread. “Mmmm, I s’pose.”
“Your message did say you have made progress, did it not?”
“Yes. I’ve located the data.”
Mr. Collier tossed a piece of his own white bread. “Is it in your possession?”
“No. Unfortunately, its location is not hackable. In fact, it is not going to be available much longer. It looks as though Derrick is planning to move the data core to his orbital research station.”
Mr. Collier�
�s hand froze mid-toss. “When?”
“There’s no way of knowing. He won’t make the decision until the last minute. According to my information, he’s in orbit at the moment. I expect he’ll make the move the next time he’s planetside so he can oversee it personally.”
“If he gets that research off the planet, we’ll never see it again.”
“Yessir, that’s why I’m moving tonight.” Scarlet tossed the last crumbs of bread and crumpled up the bag. “I’m going in quiet while he’s busy prepping for the move.”
“I trust you are prepared for this?” Mr. Collier stood and tossed his last slice of bread. Crumbs tumbled from his lap.
“Yes.”
“Good, then we won’t need to meet again until this is over. Good luck. And I hope you get what you want out of this as well.” He started to walk away.
“Have you heard from him?” Scarlett’s voice stopped him short.
She waited, holding her breath. Images of Neil raced through her mind. A moment later, Mr. Collier continued on, as if she’d said nothing.
Scarlett let out a deep, long-held breath and leaned back. She closed her eyes and savored the smell of the park’s fresh-cut grass drifting on the breeze. “Damn.”
* * *
Scarlett pulled down the visor and looked in the mirror. The woman staring back at her was unfamiliar. Her cheeks were more round and her nose had a small bulb at the end. She poked at the fleshy cheek but felt nothing.
Her implant comm beeped, followed by Dax’s voice. “You look great, no one will recognize you.”
Scarlett spoke into the air. “Yeah, I know. You sure though? The facial recognition software is hard to fool.” Her voice sounded heavy to her own ears inside the closed car.
“I’m telling you, I used a copy of the same software they purchased for this research facility. I’ve tested it. You’ll be fine. Would’ve been better if you’d dyed your hair, but you should be fine anyway.”
“Dax, I’m not talking about my hair and your fetish for blondes.” Scarlett wrinkled her nose and twisted her face. The masking latex adhered to her skin moved naturally with every muscle twitch.
