Empowered: Agent (The Empowered Series Book 1)

by Dale Ivan Smith

  On the back porch I fumbled with my key in the dark and dropped it. I bent over to pick it up and the deadbolt drew back. I stumbled and fell on my butt, then jumped to my feet, heart racing. Raised my fists.

  The door opened and a shadowy figure stood there. I could just make out a hoodie. I cocked my right arm back to take a swing.

  “Mat, it’s me!” Hoodie whispered.

  I knew that voice.

  Alex.

  “Hey, sorry about that,” he said. “I heard you drop your keys and thought I’d help.”

  Yeah, help get himself decked.

  We went inside. He led me through the kitchen to the living room, turned on one of the battery lamps. We sat down, him cross-legged, me with my knees pulled up. “Why are you here?” I asked, once we were both seated. It was too much to hope I’d be able to have privacy when I needed it.

  “Are you always this blunt?” Alex asked. Was that disappointment in his voice? He pulled his hoodie back. He had a thick five o’clock shadow. “I’m checking up on you.”

  I rubbed my hands on my pants. “Isn’t that Winterfield’s job?”

  He smiled. “It’s both our jobs.”

  Of course it was. He’d given me his cell phone number, and I had it on mine. Calling Winterfield meant doing the pay phone tango.

  “Besides,” he added, “I’m easier going.”

  That made me laugh. “True.” I grew serious again. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “We need to keep things on a need-to-know basis. You didn’t need to know until now.”

  I pushed myself up, loomed over him. “Oh, I see how it is. You wanted to make sure I was trustworthy first.”

  He sat there and watched me, his eyes half in shadow. “Is that what you think?’

  I began pacing. “Yes.”

  “Well, you should have been back here hours ago. I’ve been waiting since 2pm.”

  “I had to meet with Winterfield.”

  He gave me a sour look. “Thanks, I knew that. But where were you afterwards?”

  “I had to think.”

  He shook his head. “For five hours? You must be tired. You should have come back here sooner to rest.”

  “I think I know when I need sleep.”

  “Oh really? Look at yourself now.”

  I wanted to hit him. Instead, I stuffed my hands in my jacket pockets and kept pacing. “What of it?”

  “You visited Ruth and the twins, didn’t you?”

  This shouldn’t be any of his business. Or Support’s. “Yes.”

  “You can’t do that, remember? It’s too risky.”

  “I won’t be going back,” I said. My heart sank. Back in Special Corrections, Lenore had been right about despondency being the enemy, but how could I help but feel alone now?

  He helped me sit down on the futon, listened while I slowly told him what had happened.

  Okay, so Alex is Support, but I had to talk to someone. Right now, a sympathetic, concerned, and incidentally handsome guy was the only one I could talk to. My only other friends were plants, and that was a pretty one-sided relationship

  I rocked back and forth as I talked to him. I thought I heard the house creak, but I wasn’t sure. It didn’t matter.

  Alex looked around, eyes wide. “What was that?”

  The world was branches, roots, growing, pulling water from the earth. I tasted the sweet tang of earth.

  “Mat, stop it.”

  The branches stretched, aching for sunlight, but it was night. I willed them to stretch higher.

  A hand slapped my face.

  I blinked. I was on the floor, looking up at the ceiling.

  Alex knelt beside me. “You all right?”

  I sat up, rubbed my jaw. “You hit me.” Still smarted, too. “You pack a mean right slap.”

  He chuckled. “Sorry, but you were circling.”

  “What?” I had no idea what that meant.

  “Caught in a looping state with your power.”

  I gave him a hard look. “I was?” I twisted my hands. Funny. I was the Empowered one, but Alex, the normal, knew more about being an Empowered than me.

  He nodded. “Seeing your family must have been wrenching.”

  I shrugged. “Yeah.” I couldn’t stay put. I started pacing. The house felt like a tomb. The air was stuffy. Alex stood silently and watched me walk back and forth. He must have thought I was nuts.

  I went into the kitchen. And gasped. Outside, a wall of branches pressed against the window. The arbor vitae had grown into a twisted monster freak.

  I had done that. Somehow my anger had spurred its growth without me consciously trying.

  “Wow.” Alex stood beside me, hoody pulled up again. “You said you weren’t powerful, but man.” He shook his head. “I’m impressed.

  “I didn’t exactly plan this.” My angry subconscious had done it.

  Alex peered out the window. “The yard is completely hidden. You know, you can’t leave the trees like this.”

  “Gee, you think?”

  “Yeah, I think,” he retorted.

  “Sorry.” Actually, Alex was being pretty damn nice about the whole thing. Winterfield would have torn me a few new orifices for doing this.”

  I closed my eyes, imagined the arbor vitae shrinking. The trees shuddered and moaned. Began to scream. Eyes still shut, I worked with my hands, shaping the power, fighting to ease the branches back.

  I opened my eyes. The bushes were smaller, but not as small as they had been

  “I guess that will have to do,” I said. My whole body ached. I looked at Alex, who watched me with obvious worry.

  “I’ll live,” I said. “I don’t suppose you brought some wine? I could sure use a drink.” I’d had enough of dealing with my power for the day.

  He raised an eyebrow. “Winterfield doesn’t authorize alcohol consumption,” he said.

  “I can dream, can’t I?”

  He left the kitchen, came back a minute or two later with a bottle of red wine, plastic cups and a corkscrew. Alex grinned. “Not that I always listen to him.”

  I smiled back at him. He opened the bottle, poured us each a glass.

  I took a swallow and closed my eyes. God, but I’d needed that. We drank in silence. When I’d finished my glass, I put it down and looked at him. “So, what’s your deal?”

  Alex looked surprised at the question. “Not sure what you are asking.”

  “Are you really just Winterfield’s partner, or more like his apprentice?

  He laughed. “Yes, I’m really his partner.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Sure, I’m junior to him. That means I get to play undercover cop and dress up in the fine attire you see me in.”

  I laughed, really laughed.

  We sat at the table and ate insta-meal dinners by candlelight. I chuckled at his stories from his time in the International Peacekeeping Force in Russia and his run-ins with the mafia there. I so needed this.

  I wondered what the real reason he was here tonight was.

  I didn’t care. I was happy he was.

  Chapter 10

  Two days later, in the morning, my phone rang three times, then stopped.

  Mutter’s signal.

  He and Winterfield both had a thing about phone protocol. Screwy and irritating.

  I drove to the nearest pay phone, and called the number Mutter had given me, using the same three rings. Hung up. Then called again. Stupid, but what choice did I have?

  Mutter picked up on the fifth ring. “Time to go to work,” he said.

  I swear I could hear the smug smile in his voice.

  The address he gave me turned out to be an old garage in a canyon in Southeast where trains dropped off and picked up freight.

  The building looked freshly painted, dark green. Metal shades covered the windows, and the garage doors were down. The place seemed deserted.

  As I walked up, a side door was flung open and Keisha stomped outside. She gave me the stink eye. She was dressed all in b
rown leather: jacket, pants, boots. The jacket was zipped up all the way.

  I crossed my arms. “Oh, did you open the door for me? Thanks!” I made sure my sarcasm was obvious. With a hardass like Keisha, it's always good to go with obvious.

  Her eyes narrowed. “Very funny, bitch.” She jerked her head toward the open door. “Inside.”

  I gave her a wide-eyed, innocent look. “Gee thanks, teamie, I never would have guessed that’s what you intended. Thanks for spelling it out for poor little me.”

  She flicked her fingers together and a pair of razor blades floated out of her jacket’s sleeve. The polished steel and sharp edges glinted. A four-inch steel nail floated up from the ground, joined by half-dozen shorter, tack nails, and the collection began to spin around itself, like a serial killer’s mobile.

  “I won’t kick your ass if you get out of line,” she said. The mobile spun faster. “I’ll cut your ass.”

  If we were inside Special Corrections, we’d have to have a stare down. When someone is out to rule you, you either stand up for yourself or buckle under and let the other woman run you.

  If we had been in Special Corrections, our powers wouldn’t matter. We’d be wearing null cuffs, and our powers would be blocked.

  But we were outside.

  Spiky weeds grew up from the bare earth beside the garage. The weeds quivered, all potential, spikes ready to grow. I could surround Keisha in an embrace of green, a living version one of those medieval iron maiden torture devices, and she’d scream out how sorry she was.

  I let out a slow breath. I had to stay calm.

  “I’m not going to play,” I told her, and walked into the garage. Razor blades and nails spun faster as I passed, but I didn’t flinch. Couldn’t back down. I went inside

  The Cadillac Monarch was parked inside the garage.

  Gorilla shelving lined both walls, filled with plastic storage bins. The back wall had racks of power tools and two work benches.

  Peep leaned against one of the benches. I laughed when I saw him. He had a long black duster coat, open over black jeans and a black silk shirt. His blond hair was slicked back. He looked like a scarecrow trying to be stylish. His thick lenses gleamed in the harsh white light from the overhead fluorescents. Way too much black for his complexion. Made him look like a cartoon Western villain.

  He frowned, but kept his mouth shut.

  Gus appeared next to me. He was dressed in a new parka, olive with white fur lining the hood, clean cargo pants, red woolen lumberjack shirt and work boots. Mutter had made him clean up big time.

  He looked like a nervous rabbit, which is to say, practically panic stricken.

  Mutter stepped out of the Cadillac. His high-collared, tailored black suit must have cost a fortune.

  The door slammed behind me. Keisha came up beside me, close, trying to intimidate me by getting into my space. We glared at each other, almost nose to nose.

  “Ladies, ladies,” Mutter said. “Please.”

  I shrugged. Keisha ground her boot against the concrete.

  “That’s better,” Mutter purred. “This is an important day.” He snapped his fingers. Must have been a cue for Peep, because he rolled a workbench over beside Mutter, then retrieved a slim briefcase from the Cadillac and laid it on the bench.

  Mutter snapped open the slim briefcase with flourish, and pulled out a hand-drawn map of a building interior.

  He pulled out a telescoping pointer and tapped the map. “This is Sylvan Investments. They occupy floors six through eight of the Lansing building on 4th in downtown. However, Sylvan is just a cover. The office space is actually utilized covertly by Support.”

  Keisha didn’t look happy. “We’re going after a Support installation? That’s a good way to wind up dead.”

  Peep took off his glasses and polished the thick lenses with a silk handkerchief. “There's no money in knocking off Support operations.”

  Mutter tapped the center of the map, middle floor, the one labeled Seventh. “There is in this case.”

  That got everyone’s attention. We all leaned forward to get a better look

  “What kind of money?” Keisha asked. “Cash?”

  Mutter shook his head.

  “Bullion?” Peep asked. He pointed on the map to a room with thicker walls than the rest. “That looks like a strongroom.”

  “It’s not.”

  “Then what is it?” Keisha’s exasperation was obvious.

  Mutter reminded me of a cat toying with a mouse, in this case, four mice. He was enjoying the hell out of taking the long way around to an explanation.

  “Records worth more than millions. This is an archive, not a strongbox.”

  Keisha’s eyes narrowed. “You want us to break into a secret library and steal some documents?”

  “That’s precisely want I want you to accomplish.”

  “Shit.”

  She took the word right out of my mouth. So I kept it shut. One angry woman was enough here. I agreed with Keisha, but Mutter was in charge, and besides, this was all about bringing him down. Couldn’t take my eyes off that prize.

  “These rare documents?” Peep asked. He put his glasses back on, making him look like a very myopic fish.

  “No.”

  “Then why bother?” Keisha demanded.

  “Because we have been told they are important and needed.”

  Peep blinked, his wide-eyed expression freakishly exaggerated behind the distorted glasses he wore. “The Inner Circle wants them?”

  “Ask me no questions, I’ll tell you no lies.”

  “Shit, shit, shit.” Keisha shook her head and turned to Peep. “It’s like I always say, Peep Creep, we’re mushrooms. Fed shit and kept in the dark.” It felt weird to agree with my new archenemy, but she was right.

  “Why we are doing this is on a need-to-know basis,” replied Mutter. God, I hated that expression.

  “And we don’t need to know.” Keisha’s voice was bitter. I felt another pang of sympathy for her.

  Mutter shrugged.

  Just like that, the argument ended before it had really begun.

  “Now, let’s turn to the plan.” He pulled an index card from his pocket, which had neat handwriting in a column—a list.

  “Keisha and Lyle will be computer technicians, bringing some replacement drives to the company’s server room on the seventh floor. Gus will be an American Package Delivery courier.” He looked at me, his lips in a slight smirk. “Mathilda will be delivering plants.”

  Very funny.

  He winked at me. “Miniature palms and climbing ivy for office space on the seventh.”

  “Do the elevators run all the way to the eighth?”

  “In fact they do. Keisha and Lyle will be able to get into the archive through a back door in the server room.”

  “Won’t that door be locked?” Keisha snapped.

  Mutter brandished a keycard. “Keys unlock doors.”

  “What’s the security look like?” I asked him. This was sounding way too straightforward. Almost boring is how easy he made it sound.

  “There is uniformed building security, during the day. Three to five personnel, depending upon lunch breaks, etcetera.”

  Apparently Keisha wasn’t done being annoyed with the plan. “But what about Support people? You can’t tell me there won’t be black suits there?”

  Keisha had a point. It seemed unlikely that there wouldn’t be Support agents onsite. After all, it was a Support office.

  Worse, I had a dilemma. Since the target was Support, I should tell Winterfield. But if I did and he changed things up, Mutter might get suspicious.

  “There are no Support Agents on site,” Mutter said.

  “Never?” Peep asked.

  “I never say never, but not normally.”

  That did it. I had to tell Winterfield. If I got the opportunity.

  Keisha walked around the workbench and poked a finger in my face. “What about you? You think there are Support agents?”


  “If the boss says there aren’t, there aren’t.” I shrugged.

  “Aren’t you little miss kiss-up.” She spat on the floor and looked up at Mutter. “You sure about this?”

  “The intel is reliable.”

  She crossed her arms, obviously unhappy but obviously unwilling to cross Mutter.

  Mutter had mentioned nothing about his own role in this job. “What will you be doing?” I asked him.

  “I will not be directly involved.”

  He said it casually, like he was telling you he’ll meet you at the theater rather than catch coffee with you beforehand.

  “Need to know, right?” I said to him. I did my best to sound amused.

  Keisha spat again. “Kiss-up.”

  Mutter ignored her outburst and went back to explaining his master plan.

  After he finished, we split up. Someone followed me outside. Keisha.

  “Kiss-up!” She called from behind me.

  I ignored her and kept walking toward the Dasher. I had to call Winterfield as soon as possible. The gravel crunched loudly behind me. I tried to keep my breath slow and regular. Couldn’t get angry. Especially not now.

  “I’m talking to you, Kiss-up.”

  I whirled around. Balled my fists. “All right, what is it?”

  She got right up into my face and jabbed a finger at me. That damn finger jabbing.

  “What was that bullshit back inside?” she demanded. Her nostrils flared.

  “Just listening to the man.”

  She leaned even closer, her breath hot on my face. “Listen to this then, bitch. You’d better not screw this up. I got my eyes on you.”

  It would be so easy to gut punch her right there. See her on the ground, before she could work her steel voodoo, summon up blackberry vines to pin her arms, lash her face. I heard a whisper in the weeds behind me. Took a deep breath and forced the anger down. “I’ll do my job.”

  “You’d better, Kiss-up. I will be keeping my eyes on you.”

  I shoved her. I didn’t think it was very hard but she stumbled and fell on her ass.

  I loomed over her. “Watch yourself, bitch.”

  She scrambled up and threw herself at me. We grappled. She punched me in the side of the head and my ears rang like a bell. I tripped her but she hung on and together we smacked the ground hard. Damn she was strong. She tried to gouge my eyes. I ducked my head and punched her in the kidneys. She yelled then, and I rolled on top of her, raised my fist to smash her face. I was going to end this.