by Tasha Black
A loud thump from the car drew West’s attention.
There was another, louder thump and the driver’s side door burst open. The driver slid out and slumped to the ground.
“I’ll be damned,” Dalton said in his ear.
A wave of sensation flooded through West’s legs. Before the feeling was all the way back, he was on the move.
He stumbled toward the car. The heat poured off it like an open oven.
Without hesitation, West called on his augmented strength and punched through the bulletproof glass, wrapping his fingers around the frame to rip the door off.
Curtains of smoke billowed out.
He switched his vision to infrared and the smoke disappeared from his view, though he could still feel it, searing his lungs.
Slumped across the backseat were two figures, one larger, one smaller.
He recognized them at once, a swell of relief allowing his insides to unclench.
Roman Panchenko sat unconscious, wheezing in breath.
His wizened grandfather, Constantine, leaned limply against him, giving no sign of life.
West scanned the old man for a pulse, and found none.
The flames began to creep in, licking the leather seats.
Jess was not in this car.
The chair in the back was for the elder Panchenko.
The heads of the biggest crime family in Glacier City sat before him. One already dead, the other close behind.
West could walk away, and let the fire finish its job. The city would be a better place.
West’s head swam as the smoke began to overtake him.
He reached in, grabbed both men, and staggered away from the car.
As he deposited them on the side of the lane, he heard the sound of sirens cutting through the night.
“Police, fire and ambulance on route,” Dalton said into his earpiece. “We shouldn’t be here when they arrive.”
“Roger that,” West coughed.
The Project Cerberus troops vanished into the darkness as quickly as they had come.
West slipped back to his bike and used the last of his strength to walk it through a stranger’s backyard to escape onto the next street, undetected.
As he sped away from the scene, toward the bridge that would take him back to the heart of the city, he wondered about the choices he’d made.
Leaving the younger Panchenko alive gnawed at him. But his time would come.
What worried West more was the deal with Sterling to gain the help of Project Cerberus.
With allies like that, they could finally fight back. Strike a meaningful blow at Andrews and his Alpha Division.
But at what cost?
He thought of the carnage he’d just witnessed.
The streets would go from a police state to a blood bath.
West knew this was a battle they could win. Given time.
But would there be any city left to protect when they were done?
39
Jess’s belly was full of felafel and she was in a terrific mood.
They’d just gone way into the city to eat at a Mediterranean place Pan said was killer. Now the lunch was eaten and they had decided to walk around a little. Pan capered around in front of Jess’s chair, telling her a funny story about a bald guy who tried to pick her up at a concert.
Pan had gotten a text from her dad last night, telling her not to come home, because something had come up at the house. It struck Jess as odd, but apparently it was par for the course with Pan. Her dad even kept a nice condo downtown for anytime they needed to stay in the city proper.
So Jess and Pan had spent the night there, watching cheesy horror movies and eating Thai food until the wee hours. The place even had spare clothes for Jess to borrow.
Jess wasn’t sure when she’d ever had a better time with anyone.
“Hey, let’s go in here,” Pan said, pushing open the door to a small grocery store. These little things were popping up all over the city - Grains & Goodness. Each had fresh produce, milk, meat, a bakery, and a pharmacy. Their ads touted that they were the solution to food deserts. The problem was that no one actually living in a food desert could afford to shop at them.
“Why?” Jess asked.
“I need to pick up some gluten-free kale smoothie mix,” Pan explained, winking.
“Yum,” Jess replied.
They wandered the aisles for a few minutes. Jess held Pan’s bag on her lap, while Pan occasionally threw something into her grocery basket. It swiftly filled with random items like latex gloves, razors, paper towels and frozen chicken parmigiana.
“I don’t know what you have planned for tonight,” Jess teased, “but count me out.”
Pan didn’t even respond.
She was looking for something.
It dawned on Jess that what Pan was looking for wasn’t on the shelves.
What was going on?
The sound of a little commotion drifted over from the next aisle. Pan smiled and headed right for it.
As soon as they turned the corner, Jess saw what the commotion was about.
A manager, who was no taller than Pan, with a brown buzz cut, and a bit of paunch spilling over his belt, was dressing down an older employee.
“—that bathroom is supposed to be cleaned every forty minutes, Ed. It doesn’t say forty-eight minutes on the chart, does it?” His voice was shrill with indignation.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Johns. That little kid threw up in Aisle B and I got thrown off on my timing,” the older man said. “The bathroom is clean now too.”
“Don’t make excuses! You missed a cleaning and now my whole schedule record is off,” the smaller man spat. “After you clock out, you’ll go back and clean that bathroom one more time. And if this ever happens again, you’re out.”
He spun on his heel and stormed past Jess and Pan without giving them a second glance.
Jess studied his pinched face, wondering how anyone could be such a prick.
Then it hit her.
It was him.
This was the drunk driver who took away her dad, and put her in the chair.
She stared after him in shock.
“Something wrong?” Pan asked.
“That’s him,” Jess replied.
“Huh. That’s a crazy coincidence,” Pan mused. “Especially since you were just talking about paying him a visit.”
“I was?” Jess asked.
“Doesn’t it piss you off that he’s just here, acting like a dick to these people?” Pan asked. “Like he’s never done anything wrong?”
“Yeah,” Jess said. “It kinda does.”
“Don’t you wish you could do something about it?” Pan asked.”Give him what he deserves?”
Anger began to boil up in Jess’s chest. She felt like the wounds should have healed by now, but tearing off the mental bandages only brought fresh blood.
“I do,” she said.
“Good thing you’ve got my stuff,” Pan said, nodding to the messenger bag tucked next to Jess’s hip.
“What?” Jess asked.
“Take a look inside,” Pan told her, leaning back against the shelf behind her to study Jess.
Jess opened the flap. A small handgun rested on top of the designer scarf, crumpled gum wrappers, and tubes of lip gloss inside.
A gun.
Jess closed the purse quickly.
“What the hell?” she asked.
“My dad makes me carry it.” Pan shrugged. “In case you haven’t noticed, the streets of Glacier City aren’t exactly safe for young women like us.”
“And you want me to just… shoot him?” Jess asked incredulously.
“This isn’t about what I want, Jess. But if that’s what you feel like doing, I’ve totally got your back. Once I tell everyone how my closest friend has been haunted by the memories of this guy. And then we come here to do some shopping, totally unsuspecting, and his violent outburst brings all of those memories flooding back. And you just snapped. You’ll
be a hero. Probably get a book deal out of it. Plus my dad has great lawyers.”
Pan’s eyes sparkled.
“I don’t think I could ever do something like that,” Jess said.
“That’s cool, too.” Pan smiled. “I didn’t figure you for the type. But I still think it would be pretty bitchin’ if you pulled it on him and gave him a little reminder. And maybe a lesson in respect. I bet he’d piss his pants right in front of everyone. You’d be doing a public service.”
Jess thought about it. It would be a satisfying sight. Something else occurred to her.
“You knew he worked here,” she said to Pan.
The girl shrugged in a you got me gesture.
“I looked him up online. I didn’t actually expect you to off the guy. I just wanted to bring you here, so you could get a good look at him. See what his life is like. You might be stuck in that chair, but you’ll never be as stuck as this guy is. The only thing he’ll ever get to do with those legs is walk around the corner from his shitty apartment and come here to pretend he’s important by yelling at retirees and minimum wage kids from the community college.”
Jess giggled.
“Seriously,” Pan said, meeting her eyes. “I knew after talking to you for ten minutes that you were better than this crappy city. You’ll never have to worry about walking, because you’re gonna fly.”
Warmth spread in Jess’s chest. At that moment, she felt that she just might start flying immediately.
Everything really was going to be okay.
“Let’s get out of here,” Pan said.
“I think I actually need to go home for a while,” Jess heard herself say.
Pan studied her for a moment.
“That’s cool,” she said. “You can text me next time you wanna hang out.”
“I’d like that,” Jess told her.
Pan abandoned the basket in the middle of the aisle, and they headed toward the counter.
“I do want to grab some gum, though,” Pan said.
They went up to the checkout counter. Pan grabbed some gum, but didn’t hand it over to the clerk, who looked like he was sixteen going on twelve.
“Will that be all, ma’am?” the kid asked, indicating the gum
“Is this gum locally sourced?” Pan asked sternly.
“Umm… It’s Dentine,” he replied.
“Yeah, but is it vegan?” she asked him.
“Umm…”
“And organic? I only chew grass-fed, free range gum,” she insisted.
“I don’t think…” the boy trailed off.
“You better call the manager,” Pan told him.
Jess punched Pan in the hip.
Pan looked down at her and winked.
The cashier flipped a switch and the light over his register blinked.
After a moment, the rushed clip of the manager’s cheap shoes announced his arrival.
“Can I help you with something, ma’am?” he asked with saccharine politeness and a puerile smile.
“Yeah,” Pan said, handing the gum to Jess. “My friend has a question about this gum.”
The man finally looked down at Jess.
“What did you want to…” he trailed off, recognition dawning in his eyes.
Jess felt the sudden heaviness of Pan’s bag on her lap, brimming with decisions, and consequences.
She could take it all away.
She pictured herself reaching into the bag. The cool weight of the gun in her hand. The look on his face as she drew it and leveled it at him.
Would he wet himself, like Pan said?
Jess thought he might.
She put pressure on the trigger and the hammer drifted back. A millimeter. A hair. All that was keeping this man alive was the last minuscule bit of pressure.
The thunder of the gunshot was deafening in the enclosed space.
Jess winced as the man dropped.
40
For a horrible second, Jess thought she had killed him.
Her heart pounded. Her body went cold.
But her hands were empty.
She looked to the floor for a glimpse of the manager’s body.
He wasn’t dead. He was crawling away.
To hide.
Pan squeezed her shoulder as she spotted the source of the sound.
A pair of men, wearing long coats in spite of the oppressively hot weather, were pacing at the pharmacy counter along the side wall of the store.
“What the fuck, man? You wanna bring the cops down on us?” the one with a long greasy ponytail asked the guy with the gun.
“This bitch was moving too slow. I think she hit the alarm,” the other guy snapped, gesturing with the shotgun.
Jess spotted the damaged shelf behind the counter. The noise must have been a warning shot.
“I swear I didn’t,” the girl behind the counter sobbed.
This was a dangerous scene.
And she didn’t expect it would be getting better anytime soon.
Jess turned on her phone and scanned for a way out.
The door was too far for her, she’d never be able to maneuver her chair past the display case of water bottles.
Pan could make it out easily by herself.
But the warm pressure of her hand was still firmly on Jess’s shoulder.
The screen on Jess’s cell phone lit up.
She knew she should call the police. But these guys were going to turn around soon, and Jess had a feeling they wouldn’t react well if she was on the phone when they did.
Which meant her only choice was a text.
Ponytail guy began to scan the crowd.
There was only time for one word. A word that might literally mean life and death for her and her friend.
She typed with trembling fingers, hit send, and tucked the phone into her chair.
Just as the man’s attention turned toward her.
41
Cordelia sat at her desk.
The light wafted gently through the windows and the fragrance of a fresh bouquet on the desk filled the room, giving the whole place an almost dreamlike sense of calm.
But Cordelia was a bundle of knots.
She had never been good at subterfuge, and today she was on a practically 007 style mission.
She realized her foot was tapping nervously under her desk, and she forced herself to stop.
Peter’s door stood closed. Inside, he was meeting with Major Andrews.
And their meeting was running long.
What if the person for the next meeting arrived before this meeting ended?
She only needed a moment.
Go in, grab the recording device, and come back out.
It was no big deal.
She picked up her coffee. Still empty. Just like the last three times she’d tried it.
The office door swung open. Peter walked toward the elevator with Andrews.
“Thanks again, son,” Andrews said.
Could they possible move any slower?
As soon as the elevator doors closed on them, Cordelia jumped out of her seat and headed into West’s old office.
She felt under the desk for the recorder.
Nothing.
Had someone found the device and removed it?
She glanced at the top of the desk, in case Peter had taken notes.
Nothing.
In desperation, she got down on all fours to peer under the desk. It had to be here somewhere. Dalton would never plant this thing where Peter would find it and take it out. But the glass desktop didn’t leave too many places to hide.
Out in the hall, the elevator dinged.
Cordelia’s heart almost stopped. She needed to be out of here.
She spotted it - a tiny black box set on one of the legs of the desk.
She wrenched it off quickly, hoping she hadn’t damaged it.
Peter’s footsteps were already heading to the office door.
Cordelia stood and looked around frantically.
There was nowhere to hide.
Almost nowhere.
Beyond thinking, she ducked into the attached bedroom. West had used it when he was pulling all nighters in the office. She tried not to think about the only other time she’d been in the room. While West was showering.
Just as she stepped into the relative darkness, she heard Peter’s voice from the office just outside.
“Cordelia?” he called.
Oh, no.
Of course he knew she was here somewhere. The only way out was the elevator, and he knew she didn’t go that way.
Peter’s footsteps headed for the bedroom suite where she hid.
Quickly, she pulled out her phone and fired off a quick text.
Then she tucked the recording device into her bra.
While she was at it, she unbuttoned a few of the top buttons on her shirt and tousled her hair.
Desperate times called for desperate measures.
She took a deep breath as the door opened.
“Oh,” Peter said. There was surprise in his voice, and interest. “Good.”
“I was hoping you’d come back soon. I noticed you have some time before your next meeting. So we have the office to ourselves,” Cordelia said, in what she hoped was a sexy and confident voice with absolutely no terrified wavering.
“I uh…I thought you and West…”
“West isn’t in charge anymore,” she told him, angling her chest out, then remembering the bug was in her bra and straightening up again quickly. “I like a man who knows how to take charge.”
He didn’t respond, but she could see his lips part slightly as he considered her.
Resolved, she took a step toward him.
“Do you like being in charge, Peter?” she asked in a dusky whisper.
He swallowed.
“Are you ready to show me who’s boss?” she teased, making puppy dog eyes at him.
She reached up and loosened his tie and felt his pulse pounding in his neck.
She saw the exact moment when he lost control.
He leaned in, lips parting.
An alarm sounded overhead.
Peter jumped about a foot in the air and leaned back from her guiltily, as if his first thought was that the alarm was somehow telling him not to touch her.
