by R S Penney
He turned.
Della stood in the dining room with one hand on the table, her eyes glued to the floor. “Well, there's a new development,” she said. “How would you feel about working for the Justice Keepers?”
Lifting his chin, Harry studied his ex. “You heard all that?” he asked, arching an eyebrow. “How would you feel about it? You've always said it wasn't good for the girls to have a dad who was frequently in danger.”
Della backed away from him with arms crossed, shaking her head. “It's really not my call,” she answered. “But it's a big decision, and it would mean working directly with your girlfriend.”
“You have a girlfriend?”
Claire sat at the kitchen table with the tablet in her lap, one hand covering a pleased grin. “Dad has a girlfriend!” she squealed. “Hey, Missy, did you know that Dad has a new girlfriend?”
Before he could speak, his eldest came up the stairs from the family room and froze there with a hand on the railing. When he looked at her, Harry realized for the first time that he was mad at her for doing something that he himself was guilty of.
It wasn't as though he'd come out and said that he was seeing someone. Of course, one date did not constitute a serious relationship, but it occurred to him that Missy might have avoided talking about Aaron because she simply didn't know how to bring up the subject. There were differences, of course. As a parent, Harry needed to know what was going on in his daughter's life. The same was not true in reverse. Still, he recalled what it was like talking to his parents about his girlfriends.
Missy looked up at him with a tight frown, her dark eyebrows slowly climbing. “A girlfriend,” she muttered. “Well, Dad, I guess it's good that you're finally getting back out there again.”
Harry wrinkled his nose, his cheeks aflame. “It's not what you think it is,” he said, shaking his head. “Director Morane and I just went to dinner once. I wouldn't call her my girlfriend yet.”
“Yet?”
Damn it.
Turn about was fair play, he supposed, but that didn't make him any more inclined to discuss his personal life with his daughter. Then again, he was asking her to do that. “I tell you what, Missy,” he offered. “I will give you all the relevant updates on Jena if you agree to sit down and talk to me about Aaron.”
Missy went beet red, turning her head so that he saw her in profile. “All right,” she said with a nod. “When we get back from Grandpa's. But I reserve the right to call a time out if things get too intense.”
“Deal.”
She pushed past him, making her way up the stairs, then paused when she was in the dining room. “And Dad,” she said after a moment. “I'm getting older now. I'd like to go by Melissa.”
“Okay.”
Getting the girls packed took up most of his afternoon. On the bright side, it kept him busy enough to avoid thinking about the sad reality that he would not see either of them for an undetermined amount of time. By the time they were ready to go, however, his heart began to sink.
Claire hugged him tight, leaning her head against his stomach while she said her good-byes. After that, he found Melissa standing in the front door with a small smile, nodding to him as she stepped outside.
When they were gone, he turned.
Della stood in the kitchen with arms folded, watching him with a hard expression. “Do you want my advice?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “Take the job, Harry. You can do better than that little office in that little precinct.”
She left without another word.
The house was oddly silent after that. Joint custody meant he had to get used to not having anyone around, but with the kids spending most of their time here, he could count on seeing them within a few days at most. Now, that was no longer the case.
He mused on the offer, but in his heart he already knew what his answer would be. The most important thing he could do was protect his city from the threats presented by alien technology. It was official then.
He would be working with the Justice Keepers.
“Next.”
The hologram that streamed from the tiny metal disk on his multi-tool winked out to be replaced with yet another still image. This one featured Jack Hunter in formal attire, standing on the steps of the Parliament Building. Next to him, a woman in a black skirt and white blouse stood with arms folded, her hair done up in a steely-gray bun. Three years ago, she had been prime minister of this miserable little country.
Frowning to himself, Leo narrowed his eyes. “Well, this is of no use,” he muttered, sitting back against the couch cushions. “He's not likely to cry buckets of tears over the death of his former head of government. Next!”
The metal disk sat on the coffee table in this house's living room. At his command, the hologram vanished to be replaced with an image of Hunter standing on some busy sidewalk with his arm around some pretty young thing. The girl had reddish-blonde hair that she wore in a ponytail and an infectious smile.
Leo paused for a moment to consider her.
He knew, without having to check the caption, that this was Leana Lenai, the young Keeper who had come to this world in search of a missing symbiont. There was genuine affection between Hunter and this woman; it was obvious by the way they clung to each other. Killing her would almost certainly drive the man over the edge. Sadly, Leana Lenai was beyond his reach. “Next.”
The image shifted again, this time displaying Hunter, Lenai and two others standing in front of a podium in what appeared to be one of this city's many banquet halls. Their cheerful expressions made him want to vomit.
On Hunter's right, a tall woman in a black pantsuit stared into the camera with a big fake smile on her face. This one was all business. Everything from her posture to the way she wore her long dark hair pulled back in a clip told him that she was the kind of woman who put ambition ahead of everything else. He could respect that in a woman – so long as she never became ambitious enough to challenge him – but he doubted that Hunter felt any real admiration for her.
The fourth member of their little group got his attention.
A tall man with dark skin and black hair that he kept neatly combed, he stood next to Lenai with his hands at his sides, displaying the proud posture of a victorious soldier. No doubt that was how he felt. Exposing Pennfield must have seemed like quite a victory to those fools. Would killing this man, this…Detective Harry Carlson break Jack Hunter's spirit? Well, it was certainly worth a shot.
Leo stroked his chin as he studied the image. “Yes,” he said, nodding to himself. “You'll do just fine.”
“Who will?”
The sound of a woman's voice made him jump to his feet and reach for the pistol that was not actually clipped to his belt. Thoughts raced through his mind in a frenzy. Who was this woman? How had she entered without his knowledge.
She stood in front of his kitchen table in a black dress and a cloak of all things, its purple hood pulled up to hide her face. “You were given specific instructions, Leo,” she said. “Our masters do not tolerate disobedience.”
Leo felt his mouth twist in disgust. He lowered his eyes and heaved out one very long breath. “I told the last lacky,” he began. “No one tells me what to do. Not you and not Pennfield.”
The woman crossed her arms and studied him from the depths of that hood. “You were told not to target Jack Hunter,” she hissed. “He is irrelevant. You were told not to draw attention to yourself with petty vendettas!”
“Do I look like I care?”
“Impudent child.”
Hissing air through clenched teeth, Leo squeezed his eyes shut. “I will not be ordered around by a woman!” he snapped. “You'll understand your place when I'm fucking you senseless.”
Leo strode toward her.
She just stood there with her arms crossed, perfectly calm and collected. He had seen this kind of defiance before; it was the sort of thing that you had to correct early on in any relationship.
He threw a punch.
A pair of hands seized his shoulders, forcing him to double over. Her knee slammed into his chest, and the surge of pain that followed was almost enough to make him black out. Something struck him between the shoulder blades.
Leo fell hard onto his stomach.
Through the haze, he was barely aware of the woman pacing a circle around him. “Such delightful arrogance,” she purred in a voice as smooth as the finest silk. “I think I will enjoy teaching you some respect.”
She kicked him in the short ribs.
The blow landed with enough force to lift him right off the floor. He went tumbling through the air like a log rolling down a hill, crashing into the patio door and cracking the glass. He tried to get up, but the woman was already standing over him.
A swift kick to the face knocked him senseless once again, and the world lurched as he tried to regain his balance. Amps was racing through his system, healing wounds that should have left him unconscious, but the drug was by no means perfect. “Which of us is stronger, Leo?”
He crawled past her, getting to his feet with some effort. When his vision cleared, he found himself racing toward the kitchen table. The gun that he should have kept on his person was sitting on its surface.
Leo grabbed it.
He spun around to find her standing in front of the patio door, calm and casual with her hands folded over her stomach. “My, my, my,” she murmured. “Are you really going to resort to that?”
He took aim.
The air rippled in front of her just before he fired, light twisting until she was only a swirl of colour. His slug struck the pulsing barrier and slowed just long enough for him to watch it veer off to the right.
His next bullet did no better; this one looped around in a tight U-turn, coming back toward him and grazing his arm. Pain made him drop the pistol and sink to his knees. “I will not bow to you!”
When the barrier vanished, he saw the woman standing over him with arms folded, shaking her head in dismay. “I would have preferred to keep you alive,” she said. “But it is clear to me that you've outlived your usefulness.”
WAIT.
The voice sang in the back of Leo's head, and by the way she paused and looked up at the ceiling, he could tell the woman heard it too. “You would have me spare him?” she asked. “His disobedience threatens our plans.”
His disobedience has caused an even greater rift between Earth and Leyria.
Leo shut his eyes, hot tears spilling over his cheeks and leaving sticky moisture in their wake. “You can't frighten me,” he whispered. “I will kill Jack Hunter regardless of whether or not you approve.”
The woman turned away from him, marching back to the cracked patio door. “He's volatile,” she insisted. “A weapon like this is only useful if you can control it. His anger makes him shortsighted.”
A pause.
Clenching his teeth, Leo felt his face heat up. He pressed a fist to his forehead and brushed damp hair aside. “I've served you well!” he countered. “This city is tearing itself apart because of me.”
The voice was considering. Leo could feel it, could sense it idly pondering his fate through whatever contact it had made with his mind. To offend a God was suicide, and yet he simply could not bring himself to supplicate. His life was his own, and if his God chose to destroy him for that, so be it.
He has performed his function within established parameters, the voice whispered. Allow him to kill the Justice Keeper. This goal is not incompatible with our own.
The woman turned, glancing over her shoulder. Though her face was hidden by the hood, he had no doubt that she was scowling. “And how will you kill Jack Hunter?” she asked. “Tell me your plan.”
“The Detective.”
“What of him?”
Leo slapped a hand over his face, rubbing the tip of his nose with his palm. “Jack Hunter has befriended him,” he said. “Killing someone close to him will certainly get the man's attention.”
With a sigh, the woman turned her face up to the ceiling, speaking to her master. “Do you approve of this?” There was a long pause before the voice finally spoke again.
Proceed.
Chapter 24
Jack woke up to the glorious sensation of no pain in his hands. Well…minimal pain. Between the dermal regenerative gloves and Summer's diligent efforts to heal his body, he'd almost completely recovered. The message from Jena in his inbox was less pleasant.
It was only a matter of time before she got her hands on the article that Selena had written. He'd been expecting this call for several days now. The message had been short and simple: “I need to see you in my office.” Those were always the worst kind. When a boss decided to praise you, he usually said something specific. But “I need to see you in my office” was usually bad news.
So, he drove to the bus terminal – being able to grip a steering wheel was glorious in its own right – and took a SlipGate up to Station Twelve. Wandering the corridors, he steeled himself for the lecture that would surely come, but when he got to Jena's office, her response was not at all what he had expected.
As he walked into the spartan office, the only thing he saw were the soles of two black boots propped up on the desk. Jena had her face hidden behind a tablet. “This is absolutely brilliant, kid!”
Jack paced across the room with his arms folded, smiling down at himself. “I was half expecting you to shout at me,” he said with a shrug. “It's funny but I'm starting to notice a pattern here.”
“And what's that?”
Scratching his chin with three fingers, Jack narrowed his eyes. “Do something that seems logical and get chewed out for it,” he said. “But do something that you're sure will piss off everyone and get praise.”
Jena lowered the tablet to show him a stern face with a single dark eyebrow arched. “Could it be?” she asked with a touch of skepticism in her voice. “Has Jack Hunter really learned how to play the game?”
“Maybe a little.”
His boss set down the tablet and took a moment to phrase her response. He'd been expecting some kind of lecture when she read Selena's article, but apparently Jena could not be happier. “Oh, you'll have pissed people off,” she said at last. “But what matters is that it's the right kind of people. Expect a reprimand from Slade.
“The Canadian government has stated several times that they believe someone in our organization is colluding with the terrorist. Having a Justice Keeper go on record and say the same thing will give them pause. If we show them that we're willing to keep our own house in order, it does wonders for our credibility. Meanwhile, whoever is behind the leaks will have to walk soft. Brilliant move, kid.”
“What do you think he'll do?”
Jena reclined in her chair with hands folded over her chest, a sly smile blooming on her face. “If I were him,” she said, “I'd try to make it look like you were the traitor. That would solve all his problems.”
Clenching his teeth, Jack lowered his eyes to the floor. A hiss sent tiny drops of spit flying from his mouth. “Isn't that always the way?” he muttered. “Well, if I'm gonna play the role of traitor, can I at least have thirty pieces of silver?”
Jena swiveled around so that the back of the chair was toward him. She stood up and made her way to the window. “The crime lab evidence you sent me is telling,” she said. “I suspect Breslan as much as you, but we have nothing solid.”
“A security guard at the banquet hall was shot in the back with a Leyrian pistol,” Jack said. “Breslan is one of the few people who could have smuggled such a weapon onto the premises. Seems pretty open and shut.”
His boss stood with her arms crossed, hunching up her shoulders as she stared out at the stars. “Breslan wasn't the only Keeper to visit that banquet hall,” she murmured. “If he's smart, he'll pi
n it on one of them.”
Jack winced, then buried his face in his hand. The contact brought a slight sting, but he didn't care. “So what do we do now?” he asked. “We're not gonna make any progress bringing in Leo so long as someone keeps feeding him information.”
“We bluff.”
“Bluff?”
A soft sigh escaped Jena as she pressed a hand to the window pane and hunched over. “If we don't have enough evidence to bring in the traitor,” she said, “we'll just have to convince him to reveal himself.”
“How do we do that?”
“No, leave that to me,” she said. “If Breslan's guilty, I'll bring him in myself. He and Slade have been on Leyria for the past week, and they won't be back until tomorrow night. That gives me some time to plan.”
“I want you to focus your efforts on capturing Leo. Talk to Agent Valtez; I think she's still reeling from the fact that her plan blew up on us…No pun intended. Well, okay. Maybe a little. But anyway, talk to her. See if you can come up with something new.”
“I'm on it.”
Another walk through long gray corridors brought him to the train platform where he found himself waiting alone. Jack wasn't sure what they were going to do about Leo this time. Talking to witnesses had done no good; assembling clues had done no good. Luring him out with drugs had nearly gotten Ben killed.
He was fresh out of ideas and frustrated by his inability to generate anything new. Of course, he was not solely responsible for coming up with the next plan – Gabrina, Jena and Ben would all contribute – but he still felt as if he were banging his head against a brick wall with nothing to show for it but a cracked skull.
Gabrina Valtez was calm and professional when he called her, but it was clear to him that she was hiding guilt behind a mask of poise. There was something in the eyes. People who felt guilt about a mistake – especially a mistake that got someone else hurt – had this haunted expression. Or maybe he was simply projecting his own feelings onto someone else. It was hard to say for certain, but from what little he knew of her, Jack suspected that Gabrina would be punishing herself nearly as badly as he would under such circumstances.
