Phantom Legacy

by T. C. Edge

  Dax nodded, and set back to work. Ragan hovered behind, staying positive for the time being, perhaps in response to Chloe’s obvious frustration. It wouldn’t serve them to lose hope now. If one was being overly pessimistic, the balance needed to be redressed by the other.

  Chloe continued to march around the room, occasionally slipping forwards to check on Dax’s work, before pacing off again. She was restless, tense. They’d been so damn close before, so close to getting this done. It was infuriating that they were now having to be so speculative. They had a few dots, and were connecting them as best they could. But really, they were walking blind here. And time was quickly running short. Again.

  Ragan seemed to notice Chloe’s elevated stress levels. He glanced back at her.

  “Hey, why don’t you go check on the others?” he said. “Make sure Nadia hasn’t gone mad and murdered Tanner or something.”

  Chloe laughed lightly.

  “You think that’s a good idea? Me going out there?”

  “They’re just down the street. I think we can trust Dale and Bruno up there now, right Dax? We don’t need our people watching them?”

  “Those two morons?” murmured Dax, still working away. “They’re thick as two short planks, but trustworthy enough to not do anything stupid. They’re not going to give you up, if that’s what you’re worried about?”

  “And your artists upstairs?”

  “Same. You’re perfectly safe here, Mr Hunt. You’re among friends, don’t worry.” He turned his full attention back to his many monitors.

  “You hear that, Chloe,” said Ragan. “We’re safe here. Go and grab the others and bring them in. I’d prefer to get Tanner back under my supervision, to be honest.”

  “If you say so, boss,” Chloe grinned, ever amused by Ragan and Tanner’s friendly-yet-fractious relationship.

  She moved off up the stairs and out through the parlour. Once again, the two artists, lounging lazily to one side with eyes embedded into their hologram-tablets, barely raised a glance to look at her. Still, she kept her hood carefully positioned over her head to make sure, passing through the doorway to find Dale and Bruno still on guard.

  They, however, did look at her. With wide, almost awe-struck eyes.

  She began to move right past them, turning her eyes down the street. As she got set to melt into the flowing crowd, however, a voice drew her back.

  “Um…Chloe,” boomed a low voice, subdued in its tone. Chloe turned. The voice was Dale’s, the first bouncer who’d teased her when she came to visit Dax days ago. They hadn’t known who she was then. Clearly, they did now.

  “What?” she said, her guard up.

  Dale glanced at Bruno. Both men were frightening in appearance - tall, muscular, covered in an array of rather gruesome living tattoos. Their eyes, however, didn’t match their look. They looked almost…apologetic.

  “Bruno and I…er, we just wanted to…” started Dale.

  “To say sorry,” said Bruno, finishing his colleague’s sentence. “For…how we acted before.”

  “Yeah, we didn’t know it was you,” said Dale. “Not Chloe Phan…”

  “Shhhh,” said Chloe, eyes narrowing, glancing left and right. “Don’t say my name out loud. Not here.”

  Dale’s chin dipped, nodding slightly.

  “Sorry,” he whispered. “We didn’t mean any offence, though. You know, before. We just thought you were a normal girl.”

  “I’m not a normal girl?” questioned Chloe, looking up at the two men.

  They looked at each other once more.

  “Um, well, you know…” stammered Dale. “You’re…different.”

  Chloe’s lips, flat until now, curved into a smile.

  “It’s OK,” she said. “I’m just teasing you. I know I’m different, Dale. But, I’m still just a girl too, right?”

  The men nodded hurriedly.

  “Of course. A very nice girl,” Dale smiled.

  “Nice? You really believe that?” asked Chloe. “With everything they say about me?”

  “It’s rubbish,” said Bruno. “The press twist things. Like those murders at Sub-Tower 12, they can’t have been you. You were here already. It’s all lies.”

  “Yeah,” added Dale. “It’s not fair how they treat you.” He looked suddenly shifty, leaning in conspiratorially and turning his voice to a whisper. “Why are they all chasing you anyway?” he asked. “You’re not a real witch, are you?”

  “Dale!” said Bruno, eyes widening. “He didn’t mean that, Chloe.”

  “He’s right, I didn’t,” retreated Dale nervously. “It’s just…that’s what they say. We’ve talked loads, me and Bruno, about why you’re being hunted. There’s load of theories, but…you’re here now. So…”

  Chloe smiled at their simple nature. They were nothing like how they were before. They seemed nice, though that was largely because they feared her. She didn’t, however, have any intention of telling them the truth.

  “You want to know?” she asked. “You really want to know?”

  The men nodded, silent, leaning in like children being told their favourite bedtime story.

  Chloe darkened her expression, eyes menacing.

  “I am a witch,” she whispered, building her face into a wicked, devilish smile.

  The men leaned back, gasping lightly. Then she broke into a smile again.

  “Or…not,” she said, shrugging. “I guess you’ll have to keep on theorising. Or maybe ask Dax, if he’ll tell you…”

  She turned, moving off with a smile, leaving the two men to quietly, and excitedly, discuss the exchange. From her pocket, Remus - who’d taken refuge there since they’d entered the parlour - zipped quickly up into the air, already cloaked, to look out for peacekeepers, and help track down Tanner and Nadia.

  Chloe worked forward, moving into step with the crowd as Remus went to work. There was a small unit of peacekeepers a little way off, though they appeared to be moving away down a side-street in another direction. Within a few moments, Remus had spotted the others, hanging out at a perfume stand. She hurried on over to find them in conversation with the vendor; clearly they’d given up on following Ragan’s order to watch the bouncers.

  “It’ll smell good on you,” Tanner was saying as Chloe crept up behind them. “Go on, buy it. Or I’ll get it for you, if you want.”

  “That’s nice Cliff,” Nadia said, “but it smells like cat piss.” She sniffed the bottle of perfume, nose crinkling in disgust. Then she looked up to the vendor. “Sorry, but it does.”

  “No reason to apologise,” the man said, shrugging as if he got the same reaction fairly often. “You’re right about that one. Your friend here doesn’t have a good nose for it,” he chuckled.

  “Hey,” said Tanner, insulted. “I thought it smelled nice.”

  “You see,” said the vendor. “No nose for it. Now, come, many more fragrances to try. Find something you like, and I’ll give you a good price. Such a pretty girl deserves a discount…”

  As he spoke, the vendor’s attention was suddenly taken by Chloe, his eyes sweeping towards her and quickly narrowing as she approached.

  “No no, nothing for you here,” he said, raising a finger and shaking his head. “I know your type. Off with you…”

  He must think I’m a petty thief, thought Chloe. Her hood did make her look a little suspicious, to be fair.

  She ignored the vendor, however, and moved up beside Tanner and Nadia, who were still perusing the other perfumes on display.

  “Guys,” she said, her voice a whisper. “Ragan wants you in the parlour.”

  They turned together.

  “Ah, hey gorgeous,” said Tanner, smiling down at her. “Any luck tracking Martha?”

  Chloe glared at him from inside her hood. It was a look - if he could properly see it - to say, ‘shut up, and don’t talk about that stuff out here!’.

  Tanner did seem to note the expression. Nadia was also looking at him with a reprimanding frown.


  “Right,” murmured Tanner. “Private talk…” He looked over to the vendor. “Sorry, buddy, but duty calls. You’d have had a hard time cracking this nut anyway,” he said of Nadia. “Not really one for dressing up and wearing perfume.”

  To protestations and promises of further discounts from the vendor, the three moved away from his stand, melting back into the rush of shoppers idly making their way down the street.

  “You don’t need any of that stuff anyway,” Tanner said, looking at Nadia. “You smell nice enough as it is.” His delivery didn’t come with the usual bounce to his voice, that cheek he infused into much of what he said, particularly to Nadia. It actually sounded genuine.

  “Wow…Cliff, was that a real compliment?” Nadia asked, displaying feigned awe.

  “Well…” started Tanner.

  “Don’t I feel proud,” said Nadia, showing Chloe a glowing smile. “A proper compliment from Clifton Tanner of all people. It has to be the highlight of my year.”

  Tanner looked at Chloe, deadpan.

  “You see what I have to deal with?” he said to her. “You probably wonder why I tease her so much. Maybe it’s because when I actually say something nice, all I get is this sarcastic abuse.”

  Chloe laughed, and they continued on. She imagined that Tanner probably deserved it, and that his relentless teasing had come first. No doubt Nadia had grown wary of nice words, thinking them a trap, a set up for another bout of ridicule. She’d learned to get there first. Good for her.

  Still, there was definitely something between them, a sexual tension of sorts. That was obvious enough from Tanner’s side - he was like a kid in the playground, teasing the girl he liked - but Chloe had seen enough from Nadia to know she wasn’t entirely immune to his charms.

  When they reached the parlour again, Chloe found the bouncers still in discussion - probably about her - blocking the entrance to any rambling customer who wanted to go inside. On seeing Chloe, they moved immediately out of the way, bowing with a strange, almost humorous reverence. The group moved inside, heading through the parlour and towards the back.

  “You know what we should do,” said Tanner, passing by the empty stations where the tattoos were administered. The others looked at him. “We should get matching tattoos!”

  The girls looked at each other, then moved on.

  “No?” came Tanner’s voice behind them. “I thought it was a good idea.”

  Chloe didn’t turn, but the remark seemed to be directed at the artists, who probably showed no interest, as usual.

  When they reached Dax’s office on the basement floor, they found Ragan and the hacker still at work, sifting through the many possible addresses. Both men looked up as the door opened and the three piled in.

  Chloe did the introductions.

  “Dax, this is Clifton Tanner, and Nadia Grey. Members of the Crimson Corps.”

  “Former,” said Tanner, stepping in to shake Dax’s hand. “Nice place you got here,” he added, looking around.

  “Thanks,” said Dax. “So you’re Chloe’s new friends. You sound like you’re from around here,” he said to Tanner.

  “Yep, LA born and raised,” said Tanner.

  “And you?” said Dax, looking to Nadia.

  “Texas,” she said. “Little town not far from Houston.” Her southern twang sounded particularly smooth when speaking of where she came from. She stepped in and shook his hand. “Nice to meet ya. So how’s the search comin’ on?”

  “Slow, and steady,” said Ragan. “We’ve found over a dozen addresses owned by Martha and her family, just been trying to narrow it down.”

  “Right…” said Tanner. “So, not good.”

  Ragan shook his head.

  “There’s one that fits the criteria, but it’s still a bit of a gamble to go there.”

  “Criteria?” asked Nadia. “Did we decide on a criteria?”

  “No, it’s mine,” said Ragan. “Built from conversations I’ve had with Martha in the past. As far as I can gauge, her primary place of residence is a large estate in the northern suburbs of Chicago, near enough to Lake Michigan to make it visible from the grounds. She’s spoken to me about it before. There’s only one address here that fits the bill.”

  “Hard to trust anything Martha’s said though,” said Tanner. “She might have been doing that to throw you off, just in case she was ever found out?”

  Ragan nodded.

  “It’s definitely possible. But right now nothing else is flagging up. So, what do you think?”

  The group considered it, though all were quite aware that time wasn’t on their side. It was never on their side.

  “Well, far as I see it, there’s no harm in taking a look,” said Nadia. “Chances of Martha being there? Limited. Chances of the data being there.” She shook her head. “Nada. But, it’s not like we’ve got anything else to go on right now, right? If we’ve completely honest here, I think we’ve missed the boat. We had our shot with Mikel, and we screwed it up. I don’t wanna sound too pessimistic, but I’m thinking the data’s out of our reach. It’s that carrot on a stick that we’ll never catch. We might just get ourselves killed trying.”

  “Might,” said Tanner. “That’s the word of the day, isn’t it? Might, maybe, could, would should. We’re dealing in uncertainties, that’s the problem. I’m with Nadia. Going to Chicago is a serious long shot, but we’ve got nothing else going on. So, what? We either sit back and wipe our hands of it, or we go take a look. You know what I’d choose.”

  “OK, my turn,” said Chloe, drawing the eyes of the room, stepping forward a little to take centre stage. “I’m up and down. My mind’s going this way, then that. I’m happy to admit that, but at my core I’m not going to stop while there’s still a chance of winning this thing. So I say, let’s go.”

  “Hell yeah,” grinned Tanner. “Looks like we’re all in agreement.”

  It did. Though Ragan hadn’t really stated his position, it was clear enough by his expression that he was thinking along the same lines.

  “What about you?” asked Tanner, looking at Dax. He’d stopped his hacking momentarily to observe the discussion, though probably didn’t expect to be brought into it.

  “Me?”

  “Yeah, seems to be like you’ve been filled in on what’s going on. So, be nice to get an outsider’s perspective on things.”

  “You want my honest opinion?”

  The group nodded.

  “Well, from what I’ve heard, I think you’ve already failed. That data isn’t going to sit in someone’s home. It’s going to go straight to a lab to be decoded and analysed by a team of scientists. This Martha Mitchell is a middle man, and the disc has almost certainly passed through her hands already. I don’t mean to put a dampener on things, but…you did ask.”

  “Yeah…I guess I did,” said Tanner. “All you’re doing is vocalising what we’re thinking anyway. No harm done. But also no harm in trying.”

  “Except the fact that we might die in the attempt?” asked Chloe.

  “Sure, there’s that. But when isn’t that the case? You live under threat of death for long enough, and it doesn’t really scare you anymore. It just becomes…normal. Anyway, unless Martha’s got a whole squad of Ravens protecting her home, it’s nothing we can’t handle.”

  “But, shouldn’t you be thinking bigger?” asked Dax, now fully drawn into the debate. “I deal in facts, not speculation. This is very much the latter.”

  “We’re aware of that,” said Ragan, “but it’s the best we’ve got. What would you suggest?”

  “I’d suggest you give me more time to work,” said Dax. “With a little luck, I might be able to unearth something more substantial.”

  “Such as?” asked Nadia.

  “Well, I don’t know. Perhaps evidence of who Martha Mitchell is working for. From what you’ve told me, it sounds like it’s probably the MSA. It takes time to bypass top level security systems, but I might be able to with a bit of time and, well, fortune.”
>
  “We can’t really spare the time, unfortunately,” said Ragan. “And I don’t want to rely on luck either.”

  “OK, well at least take this,” said Dax. He reached into a drawer and pulled out a comms unit, handing it to Ragan. “It’s like the one I gave Chloe, and has a secure line to me. If I find anything of interest, I’ll update you.”

  “OK, thank you, Dax,” said Ragan. He seemed to have a thought. “I’d also suggest that you monitor chatter over at the CID, if you can. After all, Mikel stole their jet, and left from their airspace. I suspect that they’ve lost his trail, given how we never encountered them when we had Mikel captive, but it’s still worth listening in. Aside from Project Dawn, only the NDSA are aware that the data has been extracted from Chloe. That knowledge will be kept tight at the CID, and they may have intel we could use.”

  “And you haven’t considered getting in touch with them?” asked Dax. “It seems that things have escalated beyond your control here, Mr Hunt. You may find the CID a willing ally in finding this data.”

  “Sure,” broke in Chloe, her voice bitter. “They’d want to find it to take it for themselves.” She snarled as a memory stirred, and looked away. A short silence fell.

  “Well…” Dax said eventually. “I’ll do what I can here. Now I’d suggest you get going before it gets too dark. The peacekeepers have been a little more forceful at night recently, checking I.D.s on anyone suspicious. The search for Chloe is still top priority, so they’re particularly interested in anyone matching her proportions. You’d do best to avoid them, and unless you’re wishing to stay the night, that means leaving now.”

  Ragan nodded, and took Dax’s hand.

  “Thank you, Dax. You’ve been a great help.”

  “I fear you may have come to me too late,” murmured the thoughtful hacker. “But good luck all the same.”

  The men shook hands, and Ragan moved towards the door, Tanner and Nadia falling into step behind. Chloe delayed a moment and moved to Dax, drawing him into a hug.

  “Thanks,” she whispered softly. “Sorry to just barge in like this.”

  He drew a kindly smile, pushing up his spectacles.

  “Chloe, you’re welcome here any time, my dear.” He looked to the door, where the others were waiting. “Now go on,” he said. “And happy hunting. Beats running, I’ll bet.”