Mystique's Journey

by Daniel A. Jones

  When he was finally finished, he handed the book back to Shektee. “Make a copy for me and one for yourself; when you’re finished, I will check the copies for accuracy,” the ancient instructed as two identical books and a collection of pens appeared stacked on top of the original. Shektee bowed her head in acknowledgement. As she was looking down, she saw that the ground under her feet turned to stone. When she looked up again, she was in a library with its stone floor and hundreds of bookshelves.

  A desk was sitting a few feet away. Shektee set her load down on the desk and gave the room a better look. The library had a vaulted ceiling with numerous chandeliers lighting it. Hundreds of bookshelves lined the walls, as well as standing perpendicular to them. Shektee could feel the presence of another being, but she couldn’t see it. Whatever it was, she didn’t think it would attack her.

  Shektee decided that she’d wasted enough time looking around and sat at the desk. She opened the original book Cathleen had given Mystique and read a few paragraphs. She noticed that some of the words were spelled incorrectly and small symbols or scribbles appeared at random on the page. She opened the first blank book and started to copy each word, making sure that the letters were exactly the same. Then she copied the symbols and scribbles, again being careful to make sure they were perfect duplicates of the original. Time and the library faded from her mind; her focus was on the books and her task.

  ***

  Mystique had climbed the fire escape to the top of a six-story apartment building and was now nestled under a large pipe. It would be nearly impossible for anyone or anything to find her. She hadn’t realized how safe she’d felt around Shektee until now. It was strange that she could feel safer in the presence of a rift demon than alone. She had to admit Shektee was not a normal rift demon. Mystique had planned on having Shektee mind read a few people and learn what they knew about Lenard and his operation. Now she was going to have to figure out another way of getting that information herself.

  Mystique thought about her plan to hide out and wait for Lenny to forget about her before attacking. It was a safe plan but she was having second thoughts. She realized that she’d been thinking defensively; the whole time, the memory of being kidnapped had caused her to be overly cautious. She was supposed to be sending a message that messing with the Graysons was a bad idea, not hiding in some cozy apartment. She would start killing people; those who didn’t die quickly would tell her what she wanted to know. She’d learned enough from her mother and her mother’s clients to know how to cause pain.

  Mystique decided the first thing to do was to get rid of Sam and Alan. She called Bruce to set up a meeting between the four of them. Bruce was not going to be happy but she was done trying to care about other people’s feelings. The boys would have one chance to leave the city until after she was finished. If they chose to stay, she would have to kill them to keep anyone from interrogating them.

  Mystique lay thinking about how best to approach Bruce. He was a very stubborn and loyal person. He would not like her threatening his friends. A thought came to her: Bruce’s mother took her seriously now and she had the influence to get them all out of town. Mystique should’ve thought about her new plan a little more but she was tired of overthinking everything. She wanted to start doing something. Mystique left her hiding spot and started heading for the Agrotech corporate headquarters building.

  ***

  The Agrotech headquarters was a ninety-story building in the eastern section of town. It looked like an obelisk of mirrored glass and steel. The building had its own shuttle landing pad, as well as a multistory parking garage. The lower floors were filled with retail shops and what was advertised as the largest and best-stocked grocery store on the planet. Agrotech was the largest employer on the planet and most of its employees worked in this building.

  The security guards at the main lobby on the fourth floor didn’t even notice Mystique as she walked in. Mystique was focusing on using her obfuscate ability as best she could. She walked through the checkpoint behind a man in a dark blue business suit, while the guard looked the man over, Mystique slipped by. The area in front of her was filled with elevators. Five oversized elevators were on each side of her with a large open area down the hallway past the elevators.

  Mystique went past the elevators and into the reception area. Desks were arranged in a semicircular pattern in the middle of the room with the number of desks in each row increasing with their positioning deeper in the room. Each desk was manned by a sharply dress associate and displayed the name of the executive that person represented. The young lady representing Claudia Montagu sat at a very large desk in the center of the first row. A young man stood next to her desk at what Mystique had learned was military parade rest.

  Mystique walked up to Mrs. Montagu’s desk. As she moved closer, Mystique shifted her focus to her obfuscate ability and began to actively turn it off. The woman at the desk looked up when the man next to her cleared his throat and shifted his stance to an almost perfect version of military attention. The only imperfection was the fact that he left his arms hanging loose at his sides instead of pressing against them.

  “May I help you?” Charlene asked as she gave Mystique a quick visual inspection. Charlene was a professional and her job depended more on her ability to handle Mrs. Montagu’s visitors than it did on any other skill she possessed.

  “I am here to talk to Mrs. Montagu about her son Bruce,” Mystique replied, hoping that using Bruce’s name might get her up to see Mrs. Montagu without trouble.

  “I don’t believe you have an appointment, and Mrs. Montagu is very busy today. Would you like to set up an appointment, Miss—” Charlene offered. Mrs. Montagu did not like anyone showing up without an appointment, no matter how important the reason.

  “No. I wish to speak to her now. Her son is in danger and I am not in the mood to waste time,” Mystique responded. The man shifted his stance just slightly, getting ready to restrain a teenage girl.

  “I need to know your name, Miss,” Charlene demanded, allowing a little aggravation to creep into her voice.

  “Mystique Grayson.”

  Charlene’s face went pale as she recognized the name. The man standing beside the desk started to move, but Mystique had anticipated the reaction her name was going to cause. Before the man could get his arms up, Mystique planted her foot in the center of his chest. The force of the kick broke ribs and sent the man flying backward. The woman at the desk behind him screamed in surprise as he came crashing across her desk and landed in her lap.

  Mystique turned back to face Charlene and instructed: “When you tell her I am coming, let her know that if she insists on sending security after me, a lot of people are going to get hurt.”

  Around the room, the initial shock caused by the sudden violence was starting to wear off. A woman started to scream and everyone was scrambling to their feet, unsure whether to evacuate or not. Mystique shifted her focus again to full obfuscate, making her almost invisible within the turmoil. To Charlene’s credit she kept her composure as Mystique vanished. Charlene keyed the direct connection she had with Mrs. Montagu.

  Mrs. Montagu was in a meeting but when her phone buzzed she answered it. Charlene was a good assistant and in the few years she’d been working for Mrs. Montagu, she’d only interrupted a meeting twice. The ladies and gentlemen seated at the conference table shifted their attention elsewhere as Claudia’s face reddened. Claudia Montagu was known for her temper and her ability to take control.

  ***

  “Miss Grayson, I will meet you at Charlene’s desk in three minutes. Security, you have two minutes to clear the reception area. I want everyone out of that room and under no circumstance is anyone to engage or threaten Miss Grayson,” Claudia Montagu instructed over the building’s P.A. system. Mystique was standing in a secluded spot near a decorative plant not far from Charlene’s desk. She’d hoped Mrs. Montagu would come up with an idea like this. Security guards entered the room from the main lobby a
nd flagged and instructed people to leave everything and move toward the exit.

  The medical personnel were just arriving and started to argue about having to leave. The guards were under orders and didn’t care what the medics had to say. Mystique watched for a few seconds before deciding to try and throw her voice. She’d never done it before, but a few kids at school were adept at making it sound like someone else was talking.

  “They can stay.”

  Everyone in the room looked up and around. A few guards seemed to take a second look at the plant she was standing near, but for the most part none of them could tell where she was hiding. The guard in charge froze for a few seconds before announcing that the medics could stay. He then motioned for the rest of the guards to evacuate the room. In less than two minutes he was the only guard left in the room. He was wearing a full suite of body armor, including helmet, which Mystique knew was enhancing his vision. The guard also had an assault rifle slung with his right hand holding the pistol grip.

  “Miss Grayson, I’ve been instructed to tell you that Mrs. Montagu would prefer to talk to you through me,” the guard announced to the room.

  “That’s a lie. I’ll bet Mr. Shensi won’t let her in the same room as me,” Mystique replied, allowing her obfuscate to drop so that the guard could see her. He turned at the sound of her voice, careful not to accidentally aim his rifle at her. No doubt he’d seen the report on what’d really happened at the coffee shop and had talked to the bodyguards. Anyone else threatening him with a knife from twenty feet away, he would have laughed at, but not Mystique. He assumed that she could put the eight-inch throwing knife she was holding through his armor in a few locations including his faceplate.

  “Mrs. Montagu would like to know what you want and how her son is involved,” the guard said in a respectful tone.

  “Lenard Johnson is after me and I am concerned that he’ll go after Bruce to get to me. Bruce doesn’t understand the type of man Mr. Johnson is. I came here to let Mrs. Montagu know so that she can protect Bruce and his friends while I deal with Mr. Johnson,” Mystique explained as she started walking toward the exit. She absently sheathed the knife she was holding as she went.

  “I’ve heard of Mr. Johnson. It’s suicide going against him,” the guard replied.

  “It’s good that you know of him; it means you know the danger is real. I’m going to tell Bruce to come here after that he’s your problem. I expect that I’ll be too busy to protect him,” Mystique told the guard as she started to concentrate on her obfuscate ability. The guard had a hard time focusing on Mystique and not looking away. He knew that if he did, he’d never see her again.

  The guard announced over his radio that Mystique was headed toward the elevators. Normally it would’ve been the right thing to do, but with Mystique focusing on her obfuscate every member of the squad waiting for her looked down at the same time to focus on the incoming message. They never noticed as Mystique quickly ran past them and down the stairs. Mystique was gone before any of the guards even suspected she was there.

  ***

  Chapter 8

  It’s Killing Time

  Bruce and his friends were gone. A security detail had arrived at the hotel within minutes of Bruce calling his mother. Bruce had not been happy about Mystique forcing him to leave, but Sam and Alan had been relieved to hear that she wanted them out of town until her business was complete. The three of them had been able to convince Bruce to call his mother and leave Mystique to do whatever she was going to. Bruce had collected all the cash they had and forced Mystique to take it before she left.

  Mystique had waited in the lobby to make sure the boys got out safely. The security team was not taking any chances and had arrived in full tactical gear. Word was going to spread, which was probably the point. Anyone going after those kids was going to have a fight on their hands.

  Mystique left shortly after the boys and headed toward the entertainment district. She was getting better at turning off her obfuscate, which allowed her to get a taxi. The fact that it was waiting at the hotel entrance was a help. She wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to flag down a taxi on the street. The taxi dropped her at the Nova nightclub. Mystique had remembered seeing a few women standing out front that she was guessing were prostitutes.

  A couple of ladies were already standing around and acting like they were waiting for the nightclub to open. They were wearing short skirts, tight, shiny blouses, stockings, and high-heeled shoes. They both looked to see who got out of the taxi but lost interest when they saw Mystique. Mystique thought about approaching them and asking a few questions, but decided to wait until after dark. She felt more comfortable in the dark, so she went for a short walk to get more familiar with the area.

  Mystique walked around the area for a few hours learning the names of all the different businesses. She wasn’t interested in meeting anyone, so she allowed herself to remain obfuscated. No one on the street was paying attention and Mystique didn’t think anyone would have noticed her even without her ability. Once she knew the layout of the area, Mystique decided to head to the roof. She could easily climb most of the buildings in the area, so getting up to the roof was an easy task.

  Most of the buildings in the area were three- or four-stories tall and had been built pretty close together. Mystique found that she felt more comfortable jumping from rooftop to rooftop to move around. After wandering around, across the roofs for a while, Mystique decided to take a nap. She had no idea how late she was going to be up or even where she would sleep next. So she found an out-of-the-way nook to sit in.

  Mystique woke to the sound of music and the feel of the roof vibrating. She was on the roof of a nightclub that was playing its music very loudly. Getting up, Mystique stretched a little, which caused her to realize that she could use a good stretch. Mystique spent the next twenty minutes stretching. It felt good to focus on something that she was comfortable doing. When she was done, she felt much better. She hadn’t realized how stiff she’d become.

  Mystique walked over to the edge of the roof and looked down at all the people milling about. Most were club goers trying to decide which nightclub they were going to start the night in. A few were drug dealers doing business just inside the entrances to alleyways. What Mystique was looking for only stood out because of their lack of enthusiasm. The prostitutes mingled with the groups of older men, trying to offer their services for the evening. Mystique watched them looking for their handler. Her mother had told her how most prostitutes had handlers or pimps who were supposed to keep them safe from crazy costumers but normally just took most of the money they made. Her mother had called them evil bastards and, knowing the horrible things her mother was capable of, Mystique didn’t think anyone would get upset if she killed a few.

  Mystique had to wait until most of the clubbers had gone into whichever club they’d chosen before finally spotting what she guessed was a handler. The man had left his car and was talking to a group of prostitutes. The body language of the women told Mystique that they were not trying to seduce him, so he wasn’t a customer. Mystique watched as the man started to get angry with the women. One of the women said something that must have aggravated him because he slapped her hard enough to knock her off her feet. When he kicked her, Mystique had seen enough. Her mother was right, at least about this guy.

  Mystique quickly climbed down the side of the building she was on. She dropped from ledge to ledge until she reached the alleyway between two nightclubs. She moved to the mouth of the alley and took another look at how the scene had progressed. The woman was still lying on the ground, now curled up in the fetal position. The other women had backed away but were still talking to the man. Mystique didn’t bother introducing or even showing herself. She simply pulled one of her throwing spikes and launched it at the man.

  The women let out a mixture of gasps and at least one scream as Mystique’s spike embedded itself deep in the man’s forehead. About two inches of the six-inch spike was left protruding
from the wound. The man collapsed, his head snapping back and carrying the rest of his body with it. The more experienced women started to run, followed by the younger girls. Within seconds the only two left on the sidewalk were the corpse and the unconscious woman.

  Mystique backed down the alley and started climbing back up to the roof. She could hear the sound of the police sirens as she reached the rooftop. Mystique moved to a concealed location that allowed her to observe what happened below. The police took almost five minutes to arrive. The first cruiser stopped about twenty feet before the corpse and parked in a way to block the road. A second car arrived from the opposite direction and did the same at that end. Mystique almost missed the low hum given of the police drone as it flew overhead. The drone was equipped with a camera and a Taser. It was searching the rooftops for the attacker, or anyone who may have seen the attack. Mystique concentrated on blending into the shadows and stayed very still.

  The police spent almost two hours investigating the scene. They talked to anyone who may have seen what happened. The coroner arrived, as well as a forensics team, to investigate the scene and collect physical evidence. Mystique was confident that the only evidence she’d left was the spike. She’d found out while having her fake ID made that she had no fingerprints. The pads of her fingers were smooth without the standard lines.

  Mystique was careful to stay hidden from the drones flying around as she watched. Finally, the last of the police left the area. The two nearest nightclubs to where the murder had taken place closed early and its patrons had mostly moved on. A few had cut their evenings short and were no longer in the mood to party. The drones were the last to leave, taking another hour before flying off. Mystique made a mental note to be careful that no drones were in the area of her attacks.