Empowered: Traitor (The Empowered Series Book 2)

by Dale Ivan Smith

  “Take a breath, Mat. Calm down.”

  I wiped my mouth, straightened up.

  A hawk circled overhead, watching.

  Yeah, everyone watched me.

  I rubbed at my face. “Okay. I told you about Colombia, but you didn’t believe me. Let’s just say I have a lot more evidence.”

  “Then we need to meet with a mutual acquaintance. We wondered why you haven’t called him sooner.”

  “Oh, did you? Well, I don’t have time right now.”

  “If it’s that important, you need to meet with him, and her. You know you do.”

  “What if I don’t, Sanchez? What then?” I turned away. “Leave me alone for a while!”

  I ran across the road, leaving him standing there staring at me.

  I drove the Dasher to a flea bag motel, after leaving a note for Keisha and Connor. Said I had some business to deal with. That I’d see them tomorrow.

  I bought a bottle of Thunderbird and spent the evening drinking myself into a stupor, and fell asleep to the rain hitting the motel window.

  I woke up, groggy, groggier than I should have been. And my head pounded. Being Empowered meant not having a hangover, so why did I have one? I groaned and rubbed my eyes.

  Overhead lights came on. The fleabag motel didn’t have overhead lighting. I blinked, rubbed my eyes again. The room came into focus.

  It was a small, windowless room with a door without a handle and a swipe pad on the wall beside it. What the hell? I sat up. I wore a black jumpsuit.

  Those dirt bags. I staggered out of bed, got tangled up in the sheets and fell, banging my right knee hard on the floor.

  “Damn you!” I yelled at the walls.

  No answer.

  After I’d yelled until my throat was raw, I poured myself a glass of water, drank it, leaned against a wall. Yeah, I knew who was in charge. No shit.

  I sat on the chair beside the little writing desk. Every prison cell in this dungeon must have them.

  My stomach felt like it wanted to crawl up my throat. I gagged, wiped my mouth. Must have been whatever they’d given me when they’d snatched me from the fleabag motel.

  “Nice to know you guys care,” I muttered. So much for being part of the team. I was just a tool. A pawn. No surprise there.

  I took a deep breath. Time to calm down and think.

  So I sat there and thought. Support clearly wanted to know what I had found out, and they’d be creaming themselves if they learned I had met with the Inner Circle—well, two of them. They’d really want to know about Nefarious—the surviving Drake twin.

  They couldn't care less about Ellis and his freaking nightmare projects. But now the Scourge was interested in them. I was going to keep my mouth as shut as best I could, so Support couldn’t stop the Scourge from finally doing something about Ellis’s horror show.

  When the door chimed I was stretched out on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

  The door opened, and Winterfield and Alex entered, dressed in their matching black suits, white dress shirts, thin black ties. Alex was cleaned up, but still had some beard stubble. I guess he had to be ready to be Grunge Dude at a moment’s notice.

  “Nice of you to drop by,” I said, making sure my voice sounded bitter, which wasn’t hard, since I was bitter.

  “Cut the attitude, Brandt.” Winterfield dropped a file folder on the bed. “If you’d spent less time sulking and more thinking, things would go easier.

  “Thinking about what?” I said innocently.

  “Thinking at all, for a start.”

  That was bullshit. He had to know that. Fine, since I was captive audience, I’d play along for the moment. I picked up the folder. No label.

  I flipped it open. Single piece of printed paper inside.

  Across the top it read Environmental Events Connected with Ellis Corporation and Subsidiaries.

  There were columns headed Location, Date, and Anomaly Type. Colombia and Oregon Coast were on the location column, near the bottom. Mali was listed in between them. Anomalies had stuff like artificial plant life, modified fauna, altered local environment, even something called “runaway green goo,” whatever the hell that was.

  I lifted the paper. It was the only thing inside the folder.

  “You’ve been tracking this asshole’s handiwork?”

  Winterfield gave me a sour look. “We have been monitoring activity associated with environmental anomalies.”

  Alex smiled faintly. “So, yes, we’ve been monitoring this asshole’s handiwork.”

  Winterfield sighed. “Don’t take her stance, Sanchez. She’s the one that nearly blew her cover.”

  I was off the bed, and in his face, nose to nose, in a heartbeat.

  “Blew my cover? How the hell did I do that?”

  Winterfield didn’t blink, just stared at me without any emotion. “Finished?” He kept staring at me. I swear it was like glaring at a block of ice. He and Zhukova would make a great couple if they ever hooked up. The thought made me laugh.

  “What’s so funny about that?”

  “Nothing.” I sat on the edge of the bed. “So, why did I almost blow things?”

  “Your temper tantrum with Sanchez yesterday. What makes you think you aren’t being watched?”

  I shook my head. “There’s four of us in my cell—the others were away. And the Scourge itself is pretty thin. There are fewer members than you think, from what I’ve seen.”

  He made a disgusted noise. “From what you’ve seen. You are a mushroom, remember?”

  Alex sat at the desk, turned the chair around. “It isn’t just the Scourge we’re concerned about discovering you are a Support agent. What if the police had come by?”

  “They would have seen two druggies arguing.”

  “And if they’d decided to pull you in?”

  “Okay. Fine.”

  He turned to Winterfield. “Do we tell her?”

  “Tell me what?”

  Winterfield sighed again. “Don’t know if it would do any good.”

  “What the hell do you want to tell me?”

  Winterfield crossed his arms, raised an eyebrow. “The Hero Council and Support aren’t monolithic, Brandt. There are factions. If a different faction had seen you arguing with a known Support agent, or, worse, found out you’d been pulled in by the local police, it would compromise this operation in ways you are unaware of.”

  Yeah, because I’m a freaking mushroom, I wanted to shout, but kept my mouth shut. “This is the first I’ve heard of factions. What kind? Like Red and Blue?”

  “Nothing so trivial, Brandt. More like factions with different ideas about how things should be run. The other team has some secrets they will kill to protect, and they’d kill you, Empowered agent or no, if they thought you were about to uncover them.”

  Secrets? Well, everyone had them. If there really were different factions inside of the Hero Council and its Support minion agency, of course they’d have secrets.

  “This why you snatched me?”

  “Not entirely. We needed an update, and you didn’t give one to Agent Sanchez when he asked, so we needed to pull you in immediately.”

  “Something rattled Zhukova,” I guessed.

  “We picked up indications that the other faction had become alerted to your activities.”

  “You mean my cell’s actions.”

  He nodded.

  I started to ask why the hell this other “faction” would care, then it hit me.

  “They don’t want to see the Scourge taken down?”

  Winterfield chewed his lip. “Let’s just say they believe it is better to have a threat out in the open, then a hidden one.”

  “That’s stupid.” I got off the bed and started pacing.

  “There’s more to it than that,” Alex said. Winterfield shook his head, but Alex continued. “Some think we need to have an enemy to keep humanity focused.”

  I stopped. “An enemy to keep the world focused? That’s crazy.”

&nb
sp; “You never should have introduced her to the idea, Sanchez.” Winterfield wore a disappointed expression.

  “Why, because I can see through bullshit when I find it?” Idiots. This other faction wanted the Scourge to stick around because they were useful in keeping people in line. The more I thought about it, the crazier it seemed, and yet, there was a ruthless logic to this nutty idea. It would be convenient to have an enemy.

  “Meanwhile, Ellis is busily turning parts of the world into horror shows,” I said. I jabbed a finger at Winterfield. “Why doesn’t this other faction care about that?”

  Winterfield didn’t answer.

  But Alex spoke up. “We don’t know why.”

  “But they do know about him, right? I mean, his company is huge, and he’s a celebrity billionaire. Everyone knows him.” Hell, Keisha would love to date him. She had terrible taste in dudes. Yeah, super rich and looks that made you want to unzip your pants for him, except that he was twisted evil.

  “Of course they know who he is, Brandt. But we don’t know why they don’t see him as a threat.”

  My guess was Winterfield had suspicions about why this other faction was cool with mega-star Brandon Ellis. He didn’t give me time to ask.

  “We’re actually not just here for a visit.”

  “Or a lecture,” I retorted.

  “You really aren’t funny, Brandt. Zhukova wants to see you.”

  “Of course the Wicked Witch of the Dungeon wants to see me. Fine, let’s go,” I said, with my best I-could-give-a-fuck attitude.

  Alex looked surprised. Winterfield just looked disgusted. “False bravado much, Brandt?” he asked.

  I shrugged. “Might as well get this over with.”

  Zhukova waited in the conference room, fingers steepled, her eye staring cooly at me. I got the impression she was more than a little unhappy with me.

  I smiled. I’d finally gotten under her skin.

  “What is so amusing, Ms. Brandt?”

  “Just happy you want to see me.” I dropped into a chair, and put my hands behind my head.

  “In future, you will not require this agency to take extra measures to contact you,” she said. She looked like she’d been sucking on lemons for a week, her mouth was so puckered.

  “I’m under cover, remember?”

  “Agent Brandt, you serve at my discretion. If you fail to perform both professionally and to my satisfaction, as an agent in the field, I will have you reassigned. Or, returned to Special Corrections for parole violation.”

  My skin went cold. “You can’t do that. I’ve done what you’ve asked. I took care of Mutter for you. I’ve met with the Inner Circle.”

  “You’ve also allowed yourself to be distracted by outrage, and failed to continue to gather more information about the Scourge.”

  “I met with them.”

  She stared at me like a one-eyed lioness stalking a gazelle. “And you didn’t think to report this?”

  “Okay, so I screwed up. Winterfield and Sanchez already raked me over the coals for that. I’m sorry, okay?”

  Zhukova ignored the apology. “I want details on the meeting. Now.”

  So I told her, telling her about the I-5 operation, then the mission to the Emerald Biologic lab on the coast, and what we had found there.

  She asked me about Ashula. About Drake. She was especially interested in him, in Nefarious. She was obviously trying to ferret out which twin he was. Funny, I thought they were sure the bad one had survived, but it was obvious Zhukova wasn’t so sure.

  I left out one thing.

  The collection of Titan’s Hero Council jumpsuits. I guess Mister Hero Council President for Life wanted to show the flag to the Emerald Biologic eggheads that were coming up with new and horrible ways to abuse children, but the last thing I wanted to do was scare off Zhukova and Support, and make them pull me out. Winterfield had told me about there being two factions, but which was which? What if Titan ran their faction, so Zhukova and Winterfield didn’t want Ellis to stop his work? Or what if they didn’t want to stop his work now, for whatever bullshit wheels-within-wheels reason they might have. The whole thing made my head spin.

  Ellis had to be stopped. Now.

  “Do you have any physical evidence?” Zhukova asked.

  I licked my lips. Thought about lying, but she’d probably see right through it.

  “I took pictures. The Inner Circle has them now.” I paused. I wanted Emerald Biologic destroyed. And it seemed like Ashula and Drake did now, too.

  “What was their reaction?”

  “Appalled. Horrified. Like any one should be.”

  She ignored that, instead tapped her fingers on the desktop. “Do they want to take action against Emerald Biologic or Ellis?”

  Here it was.

  “They said they wanted to gather more information.”

  A tight smile came out to play on her lips, finally. “I see.” Zhukova steepled her fingers again. Nodded to herself. “Very well. This is most useful. You are to continue embedded in the Scourge criminal organization. You will keep us apprised of your activities. You will respond to being called in immediately. Is that understood?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Ice queen needed to be obeyed. Got it.

  “Dismissed.”

  Just like that, she was done with me.

  Winterfield and Alex escorted me out.

  They ran me through contact procedures again in my cell, I mean, room. Then it was the crapsuit and time be cut off from the world again.

  I missed my family. Yeah, I know Zhukova would pass bricks if she knew I was going to see them, and Winterfield would probably get an ulcer over it, but tough.

  I wasn’t going to call. I was going to do what I wanted to do for once.

  I showed up that night. I parked a block away, and walked up to the house. The fall air was crisp and smoky.

  Ruth’s Ford Galactic wasn’t parked outside. I peered in the garage windows. Her garage wasn’t full of crap like most people’s, so she could park the car there. It was gone.

  There was a light in the living room window, and the TV was on.

  I knocked gently on the screen door. The metal rattled softly.

  The outdoor light came on. I heard the deadbolt get thrown back. Ava stood there, staring at me like she’d seen a ghost.

  “You aren’t supposed to be here,” she said.

  “But here I am, sis.”

  Her hair was different, short in the back, bangs in the front. She looked like me when I was her age.

  “Why are you here?” she asked me.

  “I want to see you and Ella. Are you going to let me in, or do we have to have this conversation on the porch?”

  Ava crossed her arms. “Ruth says you can’t be here.”

  “But she’s not here right now, is she?”

  “She’s off seeing a sick friend.”

  I rocked back on the balls of my feet. “I won’t be here for long. Just a few minutes.”

  Ava sighed, opened the door. The living room smelled of mint.

  There were mint plants by the window.

  “Science experiment?” I asked Ava.

  “Very funny, Mat. No, I thought it might help Ella.”

  My stomach twisted. “How is she?”

  Ava stared at her socks. She never wore shoes inside. These socks had cartoon otters stitched on them. Otters were her favorite animal.

  She bit her lip. “Not good.”

  “She still missing school?”

  Ava’s eyes filled with tears. “She hasn’t been in two weeks.”

  Two weeks. Ella lived for school.

  “Let me see her.”

  “I don’t know if that’s a good idea or not, Mat.”

  I clenched my jaw. “Why not?”

  “Because you’ll get angry.”

  I forced myself not to snap at Ava for saying that. “Why?”

  She looked back down at her feet. “Because I would if I were you.”

  Ella’s bed wa
s canopied, a big white thing, like you’d find in a fairy tale.

  Ruth had gotten it from the estate of a friend of hers. Ava called it Ella’s princess bed. They each had their own room. Ava was like me, she didn’t really care about furniture or fashion.

  Ella was the princess twin.

  There were mint plants on the windowsill. Mint smell filled the room. Water colors covered the walls—Ella liked to paint. A ceramic painted unicorn stood on her night stand, next to a glow-in-the-dark penguin. Ella loved penguins and unicorns.

  On the wall was her favorite cartoon character, Princess Warrior. Princess Warrior was a teenaged girl wearing Arabian Nights-style pantaloons, a veiled turban, and shoes with curled-up toes.

  My heart froze when I saw Ella. She wasn’t Princess Warrior. No, she looked like a princess in a fairy tale, wearing a dress, lying on top of the sheets. It was her favorite, a thin, strap-less summer dress. Old-fashioned, but she loved it.

  Her eyes were closed, like she was waiting for Prince Charming. Her long hair spread out around her like wings.

  It was then I saw the sweat slathering her face, and pitting her dress.

  Ava watched me as it all hit home.

  My gut twisted. I clenched my fists.

  “Hasn’t she been to the doctor?” I went over to her. “She is really sick. Like she has the flu. Or something worse.”

  Ava wouldn’t look me in the eye.

  “What is it? Why hasn’t she gone to the doctor by now?”

  “Ruth still says no.”

  “Why?” That didn’t make any sense.

  “She said it wasn’t anything they could help her with.”

  I touched Ella’s arm. It was hot, sweaty. Ella didn’t move. Her breath was slow.

  I bent down. “Hey, sis. It’s me, Mat.”

  Her eyes fluttered, half opened.

  “Mat.” She smiled. “I’m so glad you are okay. I’ve been worried about you.”

  “I’m fine. But what about you? You should see a doctor.”

  She shook her head. “I asked Ruth to keep me home.”

  “Why? Why would you do that?” And why would Ruth go along with her granddaughter’s crazy wish when she was so sick?