Anarchy Missing: Alpha Case (Anarchy #2)

by JA Huss

  “Holy shit. Can I see it?”

  Randy drags his chair around to my side of the desk, grabs the flash drive, and plugs it into my computer. Some footage begins to play that shows the tall spires of Blue Corp off in the distance. “Look,” he says.

  At the same time, someone on the film says, “Is that a helicopter? Zoom in on that, dude.” Whoever is filming complies and zooms. The quality gets bad, blurs, then focuses. But it’s still kinda grainy.

  Then something falls out of the helicopter. “What was that?” I ask.

  “We think it’s a guy with a parachute. But just wait,” Randy says. “That’s not even the interesting part.”

  When the ’copter gets right over top of the tallest spire, something else comes shooting out. A few seconds later it crashes into the top of the glass spire.

  “What the hell?” I ask. “Was that a… a motorcycle?” It can’t be. Who the hell drives a motorcycle out of a helicopter?

  “Keep watching,” Randy says.

  There’s not much else to see as the seconds tick off. But it must’ve been a lot more impressive in person, because the cameraman keeps saying, “Holy shit. Did you see that? Holy fuck, I think that was a grenade!”

  The helicopter hovers the entire time, then some kind of grappling line flies down, along with another man, and that’s when things really go crazy with flashes of what I can assume is gunfire. That grappling hook thing starts bringing people back up. I count four, total. And then the spire explodes as they fly away.

  “Wow,” I say.

  “That’s not all,” Randy says. “Keep watching.”

  The camera follows the helicopter until the tiny lights disappear. Then the footage goes black, but then it flicks to life again. “What was that?” the guy who is not the cameraman says.

  “The Asylum just exploded!” the cameraman yells. “Holy fuck, holy fuck—”

  Randy turns it off. “That’s what really happened, Lulu. That night Blue Corp exploded. And then Thomas Brooks made an announcement telling the whole world he was taking over Blue Corp. Did you know that Blue Corp owns the power company? And the water treatment plant? When Brooks took over Blue Corp, he essentially took over this entire city.”

  I lean back in my chair, feeling exhausted after watching all that. “Wow. Was that really a motorcycle? That came out of that helicopter?”

  Randy nods. “Bike Boy,” he says, like this explains everything.

  And it… kinda does.

  Lincoln Wade is Bike Boy. He did that. He crashed a motorcycle into the Blue Corp spire and then blew it up.

  And he’s Case Reider’s best friend.

  “They’re bad guys,” Randy says. “Really, really bad guys, Lulu. And we need to stop them before they fuck this city up even more than they already have. That’s why when Case Reider makes contact—and he will, Lulu—you’re gonna get close to him. I’m gonna fire you because of it, and then we’re gonna take these assholes down.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN - CASE

  Lulu Lightly started out as a family responsibility and ended up a missed opportunity.

  My parents weren’t bad people. They just did bad things.

  That’s how I ended up in the Prodigy School. I was payment on a debt that was long overdue. But they helped us Alphas when we decided to end the program and leave, so giving into my father’s request to take Lulu Lightly to the Debutante Ball seemed a simple enough thing at the time.

  Of course, they didn’t tell me about the months of dance lessons I’d need. Or the rehearsals. But it turned out to be a lot of fun. I was a terrible dancer but it made Lulu smile. And after about a month of that, I realized I actually made her happy. Even if she showed up for the dance lessons tired and not in the mood, just a few minutes with me could turn her whole day around.

  I stare at her from under an awning as she makes her way towards me. Carefully trying to avoid puddles of slushy ice as her boss chats with her excitedly.

  I’ve decided he’s a dick.

  Neither of them look at me as they make their way into the pub for lunch and I won’t be following them in. But was nice to see her in person again. To know she’s OK, at least. Since she did leave town and not contact me again.

  Of course, that was Thomas’s doing.

  Whatever.

  I stick my hands in my coat pocket and the heat pouring out of them warms my whole body up as I tuck my head into the wind and make my way down the block to catch a cab back to my car, which is parked at SkyEye.

  When I get there, the doorman says, “Mr. Reider?”

  “Yeah?” I answer.

  “Mr. Brooks would like to see you before you go home.”

  “Sure,” I say, letting out a long breath. I feel… I’m not sure. Not exactly sad, but… melancholy, I guess. That’s the word. An old-fashioned way of saying depressed.

  Thomas rehabbed this cathedral to house his corporate office last winter and the main cathedral has been turned into a huge lobby with glass meeting rooms, a large reception desk, and elevators that lead up to the glass bridge on the third floor, where you can cross over to the auxiliary buildings.

  That’s where his office is.

  On my way across the bridge I can see the main cathedral out of the corner of my eye, but I don’t look at it. It reminds me of Lulu and our perfect night, and that—I sigh heavily—is not what I need right now.

  When it comes to office arrangements Thomas isn’t as pretentious as he appears. He has an unassuming corner space that faces east, of all things. East. The direction of nothing, really. Unless you count the asylum in the north. It’s just mountains with no interesting buildings.

  I take that back when I peer inside his office. Because I can see the new East Boundary Tower he’s building. One of four directional towers we’re going to use, in conjunction with the smaller corresponding towers that flank each side of City Square, when the time is right.

  But it’s not pretty and it’s not interesting. It’s just a tower made of steel and most of what I can see at the moment is the giant crane being used to build it.

  “You wanted to see me?” I ask him, walking in and slouching down in the chair in front of his desk.

  He’s looking at his computer. Doesn’t acknowledge me at all, but speaks to someone on the phone with him. “I need that completed in six weeks, Jim. Make sure we’re on track.”

  “Yes, sir,” Jim says from the speaker.

  Thomas ends the call by punching a button and then turns to me. “So what have you decided to do?”

  I shrug.

  “That’s not an answer, Case. This is a problem and you’re the only one who can fix it.”

  “What do you want me to do?” I ask, uninterested.

  “Take care of her,” Thomas says, annoyed. “What the hell do you think I want? We can’t have a single interruption in our plans, Case. Not one. I’m doing my part with the construction. Linc is doing his part with the program, and we need you to do your part with the distribution or it’s all for nothing.”

  “I’m ahead of schedule, Thomas. I’ve got 1.1 prototypes up in every bus stop shelter and subway station in the city. Plus, the 1.2 version software is already in place in the new jail. Version 2.0 will be ready on time, no problem. None of my plans are affected by any of this.”

  “She’s trying to set us up.” Thomas glares at me.

  “She won’t get far,” I say. “They don’t know what we did. They might think they know, but they don’t know.”

  “They’re not who we should be worried about and you know that. Whoever pulled off that heist is the person we need to take care of.”

  “But that’s not her.”

  “It’s got something to do with her.” He’s looking at me like he can’t believe I’m not worried about this.

  My hands are sweating profusely inside my gloves. I decided this morning I need to start wearing them regularly. Just in case. I want to take them off but it scares me. Every time they do this I think they’
ll be glowing red. Like Lincoln’s. And even though every time I look at them to check, they aren’t, there’s always a first time and I don’t want that time to be now.

  “You’re going to make contact with her.” He waits for my objection, but I’ve already decided to hear him out, just to appear like I’m thinking it over like normal. So I don’t object. “You’re going to press her for information, see what they have, and we’ll take it from there. Do that by tomorrow night, then meet us out at Linc’s house and we’ll discuss.”

  “No,” I say.

  “Which part of that is a no?” Thomas asks calmly.

  “The part where I make contact. I don’t want to make contact. It’s not a good idea.”

  “I don’t care what you want, brother. I only care about the plan. And if we can’t see this thing through to the end, then what the fuck have we been doing for the past fifteen years?”

  “We don’t need her. We can just get Lincoln to hack into the offices and take what they have.”

  “She’s involved somehow,” Thomas says.

  “Peripherally,” I counter. “She’s nothing. She’s not that kind of girl, Thomas. I guarantee that if she’s involved, she doesn’t realize it.”

  “Which is why you need to explain it to her, get her on our side, and then we can take it from there.”

  I glare at him. “Then you do it.”

  “I don’t know her.”

  “Neither do I.”

  Thomas sighs. “Case, this is not negotiable. Nothing is negotiable. You signed up, we’re all committed, and now you need to do your part—”

  “I don’t want to fucking see her again,” I growl. “What part of that don’t you get?”

  He folds his hands in his lap and leans back in his chair. A signal that says, I’m listening. Talk.

  And even though Thomas Brooks is the last guy I want to talk with about my feelings, he’s all I’ve got. So I say, “I loved her, OK? I loved her, she walked away from me, and I never quite got over that. I can’t see her again, Thomas. Not like this.”

  He squints his eyes at me. “Not like what?”

  I envision myself telling him everything in the silence that ensues. About the heat, and the pain, and the knife, and the blood.

  And the blackouts.

  But then I envision his reaction and stop myself.

  “Not in the middle of the job,” I say instead.

  Thomas sighs again. It’s long and heavy. Filled with stress and exhaustion. “I could help you with that,” he finally says.

  I know what he’s talking about, but I have to shake my head and blink at him to make sure I heard him right.

  “It’s just temporary,” he continues. “But enough to get you through a few meetings with her. It’ll wear off in a couple days. A week, maybe.”

  “I don’t think so,” I say. But inside I consider what it would be like to be Thomas. Wholly unemotional. Unattached, unaffected, unbound by anything but the loyalty the three of us have to each other.

  Lincoln was pissed off after that Blue Boar bullshit. It was pretty apparent that the inhibitor we used to keep us from killing each other never worked on Thomas. But that’s not all that’s different about him compared to Linc and me.

  He’s got no emotions. And he made himself that way on purpose using a drug he stole from Prodigy School back when we were kids.

  “How do you have any left?” I ask. I’ve wondered about this for a while now, but never cared enough to ask.

  “I reverse-engineered it. Bought a pharmaceutical company. Had them make it for me. It’s a much better version than I had back then. It’s fast-acting, long-lasting now. But I have the old version too, Case. I could give you the old version. The more temporary one. Just to get you through.”

  In other words, he could drug the love right out of me. Turn me into an emotionless machine, just like him.

  “I’ve got a meeting,” Thomas says, standing up from his desk, a signal that tells me it’s time to leave. “But think about it. I’ll come by your house tonight—”

  “No,” I say quickly. I can’t have him at my house at night. He can’t see the way I have to fight with the pain and the heat once the sun goes down. “I’ll think about it,” I say before he can ask any more questions. “And stop by here in the morning before work.”

  He smiles, satisfied. “OK,” he says. “OK. I’ll get some ready for you in case you decide to take me up on my offer.”

  He says that because he thinks he’s won the argument and he’s gonna get his way. But I’m not taking that pill. Not now, not ever.

  “Don’t get your hopes up,” I say, rising to leave. “You’ll be disappointed.”

  I walk out, not bothering to take the bridge back to the main cathedral because the garage is on this side of campus, and make my way down to my car.

  I have a couple hours before the shit gets bad, so I drive by the main cathedral and before I know it, I’m parking in a space just half a block down.

  I get out and start walking, the memories pulling at me. Guiding me back to the last night we had together. To the one and only moment in my life that I truly felt… happy.

  She’s there. Standing under the enormous gothic arch of the cathedral. Looking up at the heavy wooden double doors, like she very badly wants to enter, but requires an invitation.

  I knew she’d be here. It wasn’t the cathedral calling me back. It was her.

  “Lulu,” I say in a low voice, once I’m almost right behind her.

  She doesn’t whirl around in surprise.

  She turns. Slowly. Cautiously.

  And when her eyes meet mine, I realize something.

  I still love her.

  CHAPTER TWELVE - CASE

  I don’t want the night to be over. The last dance is a slow one, giving us permission to hold each other close, and take advantage of what’s left of our first perfect night. All this… is done. My obligation to her and her family is over.

  “Did you have a good time?” I whisper into her hair. She’s got her head on my chest. It’s resting there like she’s exhausted. I have one arm wrapped tightly around her small waist, holding on to her hip. And the other is pressing her palm against my collar bone as we slowly shuffle our feet. Just one slow couple in a sea of black and white. The dancing is over. Every couple here is regretful that this is the sad end of a very happy night.

  “The best night of my life,” Lulu whispers. “I don’t want it to end.” Her words echo my thoughts. She pushes back suddenly, taking me by surprise. “Come with me.”

  My hand is squeezed as she leads me through the other couples, practically dragging me towards the front of the cathedral. Past groups of proud parents, all holding drinks. Past photographers taking pictures for the society page that will run in tomorrow’s Sunday edition of The City Times. We move past everyone until we are outside in the cool night. The street is lined with black limousines, ready to take everyone home in an orderly fashion. Some couples are already on their way out.

  But Lulu tugs on my hand, urging me to follow her into the dark shadows of the thick stone columns of the archway standing guard over the entrance.

  We turn a corner and there is a small vestibule with an icon set back into a niche.

  “What are we doing?” I ask.

  “Shhh,” Lulu says. “Just sit down.”

  I realize she’s pointing to a small stone bench, opposite the iconic figure set into the wall. I give her a crooked smile. “Lulu…” I say, hesitant.

  But she pushes me. Both hands firmly on my chest, making me take a step back. I bump into the bench and sit.

  I am transfixed as she lifts up her elaborate white skirts of her dress and straddles my thighs, positioning herself over my cock, which is jumping to attention as what she’s asking for becomes clear.

  “Here?” I ask, my voice a low whisper. “Not here, Lulu.”

  “Yes,” she says, easing her mouth down into my neck. Her lips are warm as they press against m
y skin. Her hands are gripping my shoulders. “I want my first time to be with you, and I want it to be right now.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN - LULU

  He stares at me. I barely recognize him. He’s so much older, broader, more intent. One gloved hand flies to my throat, the other covers my mouth as he pushes me back into the shadows of the thick stone columns that hold the arch over our heads. We round the corner, backing me into the secret spot I found for us so many years ago at the end of that one perfect night.

  I’m frightened for a moment. Caught up in the accusations against him. In the law, and my duty, and my job.

  But the heat of his hands and the urgency in his push are enough to keep me calm. Make me want him. Render me powerless to refuse him.

  Did I ever doubt that I’d give in?

  “Where did you go?” he asks, once we’re hidden from view, the only prying eyes those of the iconic statue set into the stone wall.

  “Away,” I say simply.

  “You’re back now?” he asks. Eyes almost pleading.

  “I’m back now.”

  He sits on the stone bench and it’s like… it’s like we’re kids again. At the end of that one night at the ball. But this time we are deliberate. Older. More experienced, but also more cynical.

  My eyes never leave his as I hike up my dress, straddle his thighs, and nestle myself into his lap.

  He hugs me then. Wraps his arms completely around my waist, pulling me in so close, I almost gasp for air.

  One Gloved Hand

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN - CASE

  “Right here,” she says. “Right now.”

  I cannot stop looking at her. We are dressed up like bride and groom. Playing the game of adulthood for parents, and photographers, and all the other couples around us.

  “Please,” she says, taking her lips to my mouth.