Phantom Legacy

by T. C. Edge

  Martha had only just entered the office, having spent the last couple of hours down with Sarah. Her daughter had been brought to the base overnight to get prepped for her procedure, and that was plenty to make Martha extremely nervous. She’d just heard, however, something rather worrying. The frown on her face had nothing to do with the glass wall - of the threat of it caving in - at all.

  She sat down before Pamela, the President herself relaxing in a grand leather chair. She looked positively buoyant despite the fact she’d been up all night, a self-satisfied expression painted across her face. At a time like this, she’d told Martha, she wasn’t going to be sleeping a wink. Given the fact that speedy progress had been made in decoding the data - quicker even than Doctor Harold Lang, chief decoder, had anticipated - she was brimming with excitement over her imminent triumph.

  She inspected Martha as she sat, prim and proper, attempting to lift a smile.

  “Oh Martha, you’d think you’d be in a better mood than this. We have your beautiful daughter on site, safe and sound, and we’re all but ready to see her lovely, bubbly personality sent over to a nice, fresh body. Life, surely, can’t get much better right now?”

  Martha nodded, smiling artificially. She was tired, tired of it all. Yes, Sarah was here, but somehow this all felt wrong to her. She was struggling, despite the fact that she’d wanted it more than anything for some time now, to grow excited by the prospect of what was to come.

  Plus, there was the news she’d just heard from the mansion.

  “OK then, not particularly loquacious this morning?” said Pamela breezily, her body wrapped up in a dark grey pant suit, a match for the general aesthetic of the facility. “I suggest you get some sleep, my dear. You’ll want to be fully rested for when little Sarah wakes up in her brand new body.”

  She smiled, flicking her hair, as if distracted by something. Then she refocused on Martha once more.

  “Ah, of course. So, what did you need to tell me?”

  She leaned back, waiting for Martha to speak. Martha cleared her throat, which felt raw from all this overly clean, sterilised air.

  “I have just heard from some of my staff,” Martha began, slightly nervously, though maintaining her usual poise.

  “At your estate?”

  “Yes, Pamela. It seems they ran into some trouble a little time ago, not long after Sarah was collected by the medical transport to be brought here.”

  Pamela’s eyes narrowed.

  “Go on,” she murmured, her mirth slowly fading.

  “Well, according to my guards, three assailants entered the grounds, two of them by way of a balcony door on the second floor of the west wing, and a third via the front gate.”

  “Assailants?” The tone was hollow, almost dead.

  Martha nodded.

  “We’re speaking about this Ragan Hunt, aren’t we,” went on Pamela, cold blue eyes flat and empty. “Him and his little band of rogues,” she added with some contempt.

  “I believe so,” said Martha.

  “You believe?”

  “Well…I know so,” Martha corrected herself. “It seems as though the two who entered via the balcony interrogated one of Sarah’s nurses, Cynthia. They took off their helmets to show good faith, apparently. Cynthia’s descriptions match those of Ragan Hunt and Nadia Grey.”

  Pamela’s breathing was just starting to intensify, the motion of her chest, rising and falling, speeding up. When she spoke next, her voice was a dangerous growl.

  “Tell me, Martha, that you have not spoken of the location of this facility to anyone.”

  It was an order. There was only one answer Martha could give. Thankfully, it was the truth.

  “I haven’t,” she said. “I would never do that. I’ve never once uttered a word about this place. The only people who know of it are my bodyguards, assigned by you. And they would never speak of it either, as you know.”

  Pamela didn’t question that. The Ravens were her men. They would never betray her, or anyone she assigned them to protect and, perhaps, watch over.

  “Then tell me, why exactly would Hunt come to your property, Martha?” Pamela asked firmly. “And how, exactly, did they manage to sneak in and bypass your security? And, for that matter, how on earth did they discover where you lived!” She shook her head violently, eyes quivering angrily.

  Martha looked down. Pamela was so different to how she once was. How did such a shy girl become this?

  “I have no answers, I’m afraid, Pamela,” she said. “Project Dawn never knew of my address. It’s possible that Ragan or another member of the team has contacts who can procure information for them. I’m sure my addresses are listed somewhere…” She drew a breath. “As for getting through my security, it wouldn’t be hard for such a group. Chloe has a remarkable little drone who has some wondrous capabilities. He was probably of much help.”

  “He?” Pamela laughed. “Are we anthropomorphising drones now, Martha? Ridiculous. Remus Phantom may have been a genius, but the way he managed this entire affair is absurd.” She flicked her wrist dismissively. “To hide these great secrets in his own daughter…what an awful father he was. Wonderful scientist, terrible human being.”

  Martha chose not to correct the President. It was possible she didn’t know the true story of Remus Phantom as Martha did. Or, perhaps she did, and was being purposefully disdainful and asinine. Martha suspected that querying such a thing would be…a mistake, right now.

  Instead, she just nodded her agreement, and said, “Terrible father, yes Pamela.”

  Pamela reached up to her hair and ruffled it a little. She tended to do that when she was thinking.

  “So, Hunt found out where you lived, and came after you,” she mused out loud, trying to piece the puzzle together. “I suspect they hoped to find you there, maybe even the data disc. And…well, they had to settle for this nurse. This is very troubling, Martha. Very…disappointing.”

  “I can only apologise, Madam President,” said Martha, thinking it best to defer to her title. “However, there is no one among my staff who knows anything of my dealings, nor is there any paperwork of any kind that could possibly lead them here. Ragan Hunt is very…tenacious, and determined. However, on this count he can’t possibly know of your involvement, or what we’re doing here. All he knows, or seems to know, is that I arranged for Mikel to steal the data. Beyond that, I don’t see how he can possibly know my inte…”

  “Oh don’t be so naive, Martha,” said Pamela, cutting her off with a wave of annoyance. “If this boy is as smart as you’re making out, then of course he knows that you’re working for this government. We have ties going back years, easily discovered if you know where to look. I’m certain Mr Hunt has concluded my involvement in this, and that of the MSA too.”

  “But there’s little he can do without aid,” countered Martha.

  “Without aid? What are you talking about. He has the strength of the Crimson Corps at his back. They’re plenty to cause us a world of trouble if they discover any more than they already know…”

  “I’m not sure about that,” cut in Martha. Pamela gave her a fierce look, unhappy for the interruption. “I don’t mean to be impertinent, but I get the impression that Ragan and his team are working alone.”

  Pamela drew back, pursing her lips. She looked interested by the idea.

  “And what makes you say that?” she queried.

  “Something that happened when Mikel retrieved the data from where he’d stashed it,” Martha explained. “He mentioned to me that they were attacked by a unit of soldiers wearing the very same combat gear that the Crimson Corps use on assignment…”

  “Attacked,” shrugged Pamela. “So the Crimson Corps sent more men to help take care of Mikel, then,” she said, as if it was all so obvious.

  “No, not Mikel,” Martha said. “As soon as he saw the soldiers coming, he escaped. However, as he was flying away, he saw that the soldiers were attacking Ragan and his team, firing at them. He didn’t get much
of a look, granted, but saw enough. He also overheard a few bits and pieces while being held captive by the team. Suffice it to say, Ragan went dark as soon as he’d taken Mikel, and I believe that Colonel Slattery thought he’d been betrayed.”

  The truth seemed to be dawning on Pamela. She looked away, pensive, and began nodding.

  “So you think that they’ve gone entirely rogue, then? No support from the Crimson Corps?”

  “That’s what I suspect, yes. Very strongly, in fact.”

  “Good,” said Pamela, her smile starting to reform. “That will make things a little easier in hunting him down.” She fixed Martha with a stare. “We need this Ragan Hunt eliminated, Martha. Him and his entire team are getting a little too close for comfort. I don’t want anyone snooping around and causing problems. If they find anything concrete, they may turn to other, more powerful allies. We’re not ready to deal with that level of attention quite yet.”

  Martha was quiet as she listened. She’d been secretly pleased to hear that Ragan and the others had managed to survive thus far. Killing them wasn’t ever a part of her intention here. Then again, she thought numbly, my actions will lead to so much more horror…

  She turned from the thought, hating her part in this. Was it all worth it? Was getting her daughter back - and not even the real Sarah, really - enough to justify the death that would follow? Is this going to be my legacy? she wondered. Playing a part in this…unnatural evil?

  “So,” came Pamela’s voice, drawing Martha’s eye again, “what is to be done about all this. Is there any way for us to track Hunt and his associates down?”

  Martha hesitated.

  “Um…no, there isn’t,” she said. “They’re using the falcon. It’s undetectable.”

  “You’re…certain of this?”

  “Quite certain.”

  “Then how, I wonder,” said Pamela, face turning increasingly hawkish, “did this other unit of Crimson Corps soldiers manage to find them? You say Hunt is rogue, yes? Then how was he tracked before?”

  Martha shook her head.

  “I have no answer to that, Madam President,” she said. “Perhaps they made contact, made a mistake. I’m not entirely sure.”

  Pamela frowned irritably, and shook her head.

  “Don’t start calling me Madam President all of a sudden,” she said. “I know what you’re doing, Martha. Just stick with Pamela for goodness sake. All this going back and forward spins me about.”

  She stood from her chair, seemingly needing to move about a bit. Turning, she looked out of the glass wall into the shallow turquoise waters of the lake. A shoal of fish passed by, moving swiftly and in a tight formation. Pamela breathed in and out several times, before turning back around again, nodding.

  “If we can’t find them ourselves,” she said, coming to some conclusion, “then we need to draw them out.” She flattened her gaze, looking straight at her old friend. “We need bait,” she said. “Something that will make them bite.”

  Martha felt a sudden spike of anxiety. It must have shown upon her face.

  “Oh, not you, Martha,” said Pamela, chuckling sardonically. “After all you’ve done, you think I’d just give you up. I owe you a debt of gratitude I’ll never be able to repay. And besides, you’re a dear friend. No no, I’m thinking of this Mikel creature of yours. I find nano-vamps to be utterly ghastly. He might yet serve us.”

  “S- Serve us?” queried Martha, voice cautious and unsure. “How so?”

  “Well, from what I’ve heard, this Hunt and his team rather dislike…Mikel,” she said, finding it hard to say the vamp’s name. “If we can somehow leak his location, perhaps they’ll all go running after him? And besides, they may well want to question him again, see if he knows anything about you, or me, or…whatever,” she said, waving her hand impatiently again. “I think it’s a tremendous plan,” she finished, narrow features puffing conceitedly.

  “Yes, yes it is,” said Martha. “I did make a promise to Mikel, though.”

  “A promise,” laughed Pamela. “Nonsense. He’s a bloodthirsty wretch, just like the rest of his sort. There are no promises to be made between humans and creatures like that. He has served his purpose. Now, perhaps, he can serve another.”

  For some reason, this wasn’t sitting well with Martha. She had no liking for Mikel, of course, but she had made a promise to him. Despite recent events and betrayals, she considered herself a woman of her word, even with the likes of a savage nano-vamp. It was another block to be added to this tower of wickedness she was building. She felt good about none of it. Even the imminent rebirth of her darling Sarah wasn’t quelling her self-loathing.

  Still, there was little she could do. Not if President Pamela Chase wanted it.

  “So, where is this nano-vamp right now?” asked Pamela. “You told me you have a direct line to him, to bring him in when the time comes?”

  “I do, yes. We have linked comms earpieces, which I used to arrange the theft of the data. Um….as of right now, I believe Mikel is somewhere around Cincinnati.”

  “Cincinnati! What on earth is he doing in that ruin? There’s very serious fighting going on there right now, New York and LA knocking the stuffing out of one another as always.”

  “Well, that’s sort of why he’s there, Pamela,” said Martha, trying to keep things nice and smooth. “He was at his wit’s end with his, um, affliction, shall we say. I told him it would take a little time to decode the data, and in the meantime he mentioned how he desperately needed to…to feed.”

  Pamela made a disgusted face, her nose wrinkling up as if she’d just taken a whiff of a decomposing corpse.

  “Spare me any further details, Martha. I’m not sure my stomach can take it.”

  “Well, anyway,” went on Martha, trying to stop from rolling her eyes at Pamela’s often insufferable pomposity, “I told him about the fighting in Cincinnati, which isn’t too far. I’m aware that there are some Panthers there, whose nanites Mikel is particularly fond of. In summation, he needed a distraction, and a way of satisfying himself, and I was happy enough to oblige. So…”

  “So he’s in Cincinnati,” said Pamela, hurrying things along with her own brand of disrespect. “That works well for us…”

  Martha waited patiently for Pamela to continue, allowing the President a few moments of indulgence of this ‘wonderful’ idea of hers.

  “So, it’s a plan then,” she said, smiling proudly. “You contact this brute of yours, find out precisely where he is right now, and we’ll leak that information across security networks. You can be quite sure that Hunt will pick up on it, and go right after Mikel in order to interrogate him. They may even believe that the loathsome creature still has the data disc in his possession.”

  Martha nodded. It wasn’t a bad plan, she had to admit, though hardly the genius one Pamela was making it out to be.

  “With any luck,” Pamela went on, “your old colleague, Jeremiah Slattery, will also pick up on the information, go after Mikel as well, and find Hunt and his motley crew in attendance. Didn’t you also say there are members of the Panther Squad in the area?”

  “Yes,” said Martha. “That’s why Mikel’s there - to feed.”

  Pamela’s facial features grouped in disgust once more.

  “Charming,” she said, shuddering. “Well then, it’s perfect. The CID will be after Hunt as well, no doubt, and Mikel too, seeing as he stole the data from under their foolish noses. The more men we have bearing down on Hunt, the better. We’ll be able to wipe plenty of them out in one fell swoop, and keep them busy for a time as well. Hopefully, this Mikel creature will also perish in all the confusion.”

  “And if he doesn’t? If he discovers that we’ve betrayed him? He’ll come after us, Pamela.”

  Pamela huffed loudly, dismissively.

  “That base little monster is no concern of mine,” she said. “He doesn’t know the location of this facility, and before long our synthetics will be fully combat-ready. The likes of nano-vamp
s and nano-enhanced will be a thing of the past.”

  She drew a breath, seeing the slight doubt in Martha’s eyes.

  “However,” she breathed, conceding, “I…suppose Mikel has earned some reward for his efforts. Hmmmm,” she murmured, considering things. “How about this - if Mikel manages to survive, then we’ll bring him here and give him what he asked for. He won’t have any clue that it was us who leaked his position, so there’s nothing to fear, my dear. So don’t look so concerned.” She shook her head. “Heavens, Martha, you’d think someone had died the way your face is so muddled up. But it’s quite the opposite.” She sighed sympathetically, softening her voice. “I know you’re worried about Sarah, and that’s entirely understandable. But believe me, the clone is perfect, and she’ll be exactly how she was before. Remus Phantom’s data will complete all the wonderful work our scientists have done. Sarah will be healthy and happy again.”

  Martha drew up a smile at the thought. A genuine smile, almost. This was the moment she’d longed for, the thing that had driven her for so long. But somehow it just felt…hollow.

  “Now come, my dearest friend,” went on Pamela, standing from her seat. “Let’s see this mess cleaned up, shall we?”

  Martha stood up wearily, as Pamela came around the side of her magnificent desk and took her arm. She led her towards the door, opening it up and moving out into the corridor.

  It was early still, the sun creeping higher on another frantic day. A day that would set with a crimson sun, Martha knew. A deep red glow upon the earth. The colour of blood, seeping into the dirt.

  17

  Colonel Slattery awoke.

  His eyes crept open, slits cracking, taking in unpleasant, bright shards of light. A humming sounded in his ears, that of machinery. A smell of antiseptic wafted up his nose. More sounds came; voices, blurred and distant, speaking hurriedly. He managed to draw his eyelids open a little more, and took in the shape of the room.

  Medical bay.

  A flurry of memories came to him, joined by a sharp, tight clenching in his chest. He tried to reach across with his arm, but found himself too weak. A louder beeping began to blare, followed by the sound of a door opening. The muted voices beyond grew suddenly clearer. A set of footsteps rushed into the room.