The Vigilante's Lover #4 (Volume 4)

by Annie Winters

Colette parks the car in a dark corner of the garage. She pats the steering wheel affectionately. “I’ll be back for you,” she tells it.

  I open my door. “We’ll separate here,” I tell them.

  Colette heads out of the car and opens her trunk. “Let’s take all I’ve got.” She passes a slender case of vials to Jax.

  “Where’s that bag?” I ask Mia.

  She heads to the backseat of the car to fetch it.

  When she returns, Colette dumps several vials in. “They’re unbreakable, so don’t worry,” she tells Mia. She packs a second set in Sam’s tech bag.

  “So I have one antidote for each dart, plus three of the new darts that don’t need them,” Mia says.

  “That’s right,” Colette says. She kisses both of Mia’s cheeks. “Stay strong and be smart.”

  Mia nods, and I can see her eyes tearing up a little.

  Sam shakes my hand. “Good luck.”

  Mia hides her dart gun in her jacket. I don’t know if security will let her take it in. I don’t know how security is going to react to her at all.

  Colette and Sam head out the opposite side of the garage. Mia and I walk down the entrance ramp and out into the sunny afternoon. It’s late in the day. By the time we get done with this job, it will be night. I try not to think ahead. I’ve never gone into a situation with less of a plan than I have now.

  We take our time walking the block back to the entrance of the office building. It’s not terribly tall, four floors, and nondescript gray brick and steel. Mia’s grip on my hand tightens as we approach the glass entrance. “What if they shoot us immediately?”

  “Nothing will happen, not out here,” I assure her. But I keep an eye on the scanner above us. It’s already reading our heat signatures with an invisible beam.

  I open the door.

  Whatever’s going to happen to us will occur inside.

  18: Mia

  The inside of the lobby is like any other. I glance at Jax as we enter the room. Red sofas are clustered around a large planter filled with flowers and leafy trees. A round marble desk holds a typical-looking security guy in a blue uniform. He blearily watches a few small screens.

  It doesn’t look anything like a silo or Vigilante stronghold, which I guess is the point.

  A long desk ahead is manned by three receptionists, all young women with sleek hair and headsets.

  “What happens now?” I ask.

  “Those are Phase Fours behind the desk,” Jax says quietly. “They’re letting the others know we’ve arrived.”

  “What about that uniformed guy?”

  “Phase Ten fighter,” Jax says.

  Really? “He doesn’t look it,” I say.

  “Isn’t meant to. He’d give me a run for my money, though,” Jax says. “He might yet.”

  The man looks over at us.

  “Should we talk to someone?” I ask.

  “Let’s see how far we can get,” Jax says. “Up here where they try to appear normal, we can make our way safely, at least for a little while.”

  He leads me over to a bank of elevators, then thinks better of it and moves toward a stairwell.

  “What’s wrong with elevators?” I whisper.

  “They are all fitted with gas,” Jax says. “Let’s not get trapped in our first sixty seconds.”

  A scanner blinks as we approach the door. “I think I should go first,” I say, remembering how the Missouri silo worked. I had free run. “If it picks you first, you might get a dart.”

  He grins, and I can tell he’s pleased with the way I’m working things out.

  The lever on the door turns beneath my hand, and we go through.

  “The War Room is several floors down,” Jax says. “I have no illusions that we’ll get anywhere near it without being stopped.”

  “It’s just a question of what will stop us,” I say. “People or the security system itself.”

  He points up. “Darts, cameras, the works.”

  I peer at the ceiling. There are a number of ordinary-looking gadgets. A camera with its wide glass eye. A sprinkler head. I suppose you could hide all manner of tech in those.

  We hurry down a flight. The next door is locked tight. “Open it with the pass key or go on?” I ask.

  “Let’s go down,” Jax says. His eyes are everywhere, watching the walls, the ceiling, the corners of every turn.

  We head down the next flight. Nothing about the environment changes. No alarms sound. No warning lights flash. No darts fly at us.

  The next door is also locked.

  “Isn’t the War Room six floors down?” I whisper.

  Jax nods.

  I take his hand and he squeezes it tightly. I have no idea when we’ll hit our first roadblock. Or what I’ll do if they dart Jax. Or me.

  As we go down the third flight, the walls start to change. A clear acrylic covering sheathes the plaster. Jax stops us. “They’re going to ID us now, like when we walked into that first silo.”

  I recognize the walls. They will project our information.

  “Is there any way to fake this?” I ask.

  “Heat signatures don’t lie,” he says.

  But I have an idea. I take the dart gun out of my jacket. “Are they watching?” I ask.

  “If they weren’t, they’re about to be.”

  I point the gun at his face. “Then you come with me.”

  Jax’s expression shows no change, but I can feel his shoulders relax. He gets it. He knows what I’m about to do.

  I walk ahead, jerking on his arm, aiming the dart at him. I see the first scanner device. It’s like the one in the silo. I step into its range.

  On the wall appears my screen, just my name, nothing else, same as always.

  The dart gun is slightly behind me. As we walk forward, the scanner picks up on it. My screen goes red. “Special is armed” flashes below my name.

  “I have a prisoner,” I call out. “I think you want him.”

  We take another step forward. Now Jax is in range.

  His screen lights up red. “Jax De Luca. Executed 10-16-2020 09:06 a.m.”

  “That’s going to confuse it,” I say. Which was my intention. A human could make the leap that the information is wrong, but I’m not sure what a computer algorithm will do.

  Heavy bold words flash on the screen. “Data system contaminated. Life signs present.” The line about the execution goes away.

  “Keep going,” Jax says. “It won’t dart me if it’s trying to decide if I am dead.”

  I move faster now. We’ve gone down three flights. The screens follow us on the acrylic wall as we descend.

  Jax’s data alters as we go down. “Born 1984,” it adds, as if trying to puzzle him out. “Entered Phase One training 1996.”

  We hurry along the stairs, assuming that we are safe until a human intervenes.

  Four flights down.

  A grid appears ahead. Jax grabs my hand. He jerks a cufflink from his sleeve and tosses it into the grid. It incinerates, like in the car.

  “What now?” I ask.

  “We go in,” he says.

  We hurry back up to the previous door. Jax presses the pass key to the surface. The screen is now scrolling through Jax’s history, trying to find the moment where its data is corrupted. Phase Two. Phase Six. Vegas syndicate. Promotion. Silo director. Faster and faster it churns.

  The door clicks open.

  Jax pulls off the pass key and pushes through. We’re in a small receptionist area. Two exits. A woman sits behind a desk. She stands up, startled. “A special,” she says, glancing at the wall behind us.

  I glance behind. My status hasn’t changed.

  “I have a prisoner,” I say, sticking to my first plan.

  “I’ll get someone,” she says and disappears through one of the doors.

  “Phase Five and still gets rattled,” Jax murmurs. “That’s why she’s behind a desk.”

  “I don’t think we should wait,” I say to Jax. His screen is now at
Ridley Prison, going through his activities there. It’s slowed down, as if it thinks this is where the data no longer matches.

  It gets to his escape and the red “FUGITIVE” blinks like it did when I met him.

  We hurry to the opposite door. I don’t even need the pass key because this one clicks on its own.

  Inside is what appears to be a data center, a dozen men and women manning the big glass screens with information splashing across their surface.

  “Pass through,” Jax says. “Keep your gun on me, as that makes the computer think I’m under your control.”

  The people in the room still as we walk by. On a far screen, I see Sam and Colette’s images. I hurry toward it.

  “They’re detained,” Jax says. “Drag on the door on the map below them and it will unlock it.”

  But the boy by the screen turns with a fierce expression.

  “I can’t let you do that,” he says.

  I don’t think twice, but shoot a dart into his arm. “What was that you said?” I ask Jax.

  The boy crumples to the floor as the others gasp. I hear murmurs.

  “What do we do with her?”

  “She’s a special.”

  Jax clears the door on the map and shoves the body of the boy aside as he types a few commands on the screen. Colette and Sam’s images blink out. “They won’t be followed for a while,” Jax says.

  The screens throughout the room begin to change. Jax’s image takes over them all. “Fugitive. Kill order. Execution failed. No body cremated.”

  It’s figured it out.

  A couple of Vigilantes move toward me like they’re going to do something, but I point at everyone who approaches. “Snuff dart,” I say, knowing I’m lying but also knowing that the boy at my feet looks close enough for it to count. Only we know that he’ll wake up in two hours.

  Nobody comes toward us.

  “Back door,” Jax says.

  We hurry past the screens and out the opposite door.

  We enter a small lobby with only an open elevator car. “Going to have to risk the elevator now,” Jax says. “I don’t think they’ll gas us. They’re not touching you. And as long as the computer thinks you have me, we’ll be fine.”

  We step in. “Fuck, I hate elevators,” he says.

  The doors close. There are no buttons inside.

  “How does it know where we want to go?” I ask.

  “It takes us where it wants us to go.” Jax’s eyes dart around the corners.

  Then he says, “Shit.”

  “What?” I ask.

  “I was wrong. They’re gassing us.”

  I’m about to sharply inhale with shock, but Jax kisses me. His mouth is hot and roving and doesn’t let up. I can’t breathe, wanting to cry, not sure why he’s doing this, as we’re not fooling the computers anymore. But maybe it’s a good-bye kiss. He knows the gas, and we’re done for, and he doesn’t want to say it.

  It goes on and on and my lungs feel like they will burst. I become aware that he’s pulled out the pass key and placed it on the door. There’s an explosive burst of light, and a funnel of smoke curls around us.

  Still, he won’t break this kiss. He’s passing air into me, keeping me calm. I want to panic, but the kiss won’t let me. I feel my vision wanting to go, stars on the edges. He reaches behind me and forces open the doors, straining.

  I sense a different sort of air coming in. Jax’s hands come around my waist and he lifts me, shoving me up onto the floor that is revealed halfway up through the door.

  I want to close my eyes, to sleep, but he keeps pushing until I fall back.

  My knees come high as he forces my feet up and out of the elevator. I’m lying on the ground, a cold marble. Above me is a chandelier, bright and crystal.

  The doors start to close and this gets my panic to rise. My adrenaline bursts and I sit up, moving to stop the doors, trying to make them stay open.

  But they shut tight. I bang on the panels, but nothing moves in there. The elevator is still closed. I jump to my feet, looking for buttons to open the door, but there aren’t any.

  I want to wail and scream and cry. “JAX!” I call out, pounding on the door.

  “You don’t need to worry about him anymore,” a voice says.

  I turn around.

  It’s Sutherland.

  I still have the dart gun. I aim it at his face. “I’m not going to go for your body armor,” I say, willing my voice not to shake.

  Sutherland holds out his arms. “It is my pleasure to finally make your acquaintance,” he says smoothly. “You’ve caused quite a stir, bringing your captor right to our door.”

  My mind buzzes. Are they falling for the ruse? What could they know? That Jax kidnapped me, obviously. Then ditched me.

  But then they took him from our hotel room.

  So no, they aren’t falling for it.

  I aim the laser square on his forehead. “I hope you have an antidote for this new dart,” I say.

  Sutherland’s expression wavers for just a second.

  “System. Scan the gun,” he commands.

  A green beam cuts across the weapon.

  “Under development,” a computer voice says. “Technology unrecognized.”

  His lips twitch. “You’re getting mighty big for your britches, Ms. Morrow,” he says.

  “Get Jax OUT of that elevator,” I hiss. “I’m going to count to three.”

  “System. Take her out,” he commands.

  We’re alone in the room. Is he talking to the computer?

  Nothing happens.

  “System,” he commands. “Take out the special.”

  “System requires override by the committee for this command,” the voice says.

  “Send in my guards,” he says.

  I can see this isn’t going to go my way. As soon as real people are involved, it’s like Jax said, they can reassess the situation.

  So I do the only thing I can think of.

  I shoot him.

  19: Jax

  I got Mia out.

  The silent gas hasn’t gone anywhere. I don’t doubt this even though it is odorless and invisible. Mia got a puff of it before I shoved her out, and it definitely affected her.

  I’m on my knees, trying not to breathe, slowing my heart rate on purpose to buy me time. The panels are on lockdown now. The only thing that allowed me to part them in the first place was the last jolt of energy in the pass key. It’s dead now.

  I know how these elevators are made. It’s why I never, ever get in one. No hatches. No trapdoors. Just solid steel. And jets.

  My chest burns. There is no point in using my phone. No way to call anyone. These elevators are black holes. No communications can get through.

  I can hear the murmur of voices. I think one of them is Mia. A human must have run the gas. The system should protect her, especially now that she’s away from me.

  I got Colette and Sam out of detainment. Hopefully they’ll make it.

  I don’t think I’m going to win here today, but maybe they’ll escape at least. If the Vigilante network goes down, it goes down. My parents are out of it. Sam and Colette are out of it. Mia can’t get hurt by it.

  I’ve done my job.

  I have to take a breath. I know this. My lungs feel like they are going to explode.

  It’s a sleeping gas. The old-fashioned kind. Silent, deadly, but a peaceful way to go. Among deaths, it’s not the worst.

  I sit down in the corner. If I’m going to think last thoughts, they’ll be of Mia at least. Who would have known that this random girl holed up in a decommissioned safe house would be the perfect fit for a workaholic risk-driven Vigilante?

  I picture her from that first meeting, how she slept so innocently as I slid the ropes around her body, tightening them inch by careful inch. I was so angry, so sure she was the cause of Klaus’s disappearance. I couldn’t see what she was. What she would be.

  My vision starts to blur.

  I can picture Klaus
and his screwed-up blond hair. We were once friends. The betrayal stings one last time.

  It’s like he’s in front of me. I want to strike out at his image, rage filling me. I throw a punch and realize with a jolt that it has connected.

  “I know how you feel about elevators,” he says.

  There’s a rush of air being sucked out. I realize we’re moving, silently, down. I risk a breath, and it’s clear. Klaus stands over me, tucking his cuff more neatly inside his suit jacket.

  “I’m not here to save you,” he quips and gives me a hand to stand up. “But I do need you to be alive a little longer.”

  “Who ordered the gas?” If it wasn’t automatic, then I’ll know Mia is still safe.

  “Some Phase Four with an itchy finger. She’s been dealt with.”

  So Mia will be fine. I take in another deep breath. Time to finish this.

  The minute I have enough energy to throw a punch, I do. We wrestle, falling out of the elevator and into a steel-lined hall. I slam my elbow into his face. I’m not full force, not after the gas, but it’s enough. I pin him to the ground. I’m ready to kill a second person with my bare hands.

  I encircle his throat.

  “It’s Mia,” he gasps. “War Room. Go in. Jovana’s got her.”

  I look up. There’s a door with no markings. But we’ve gone down a long way. Easily six floors below. The hallway is silent and empty.

  I let go of Klaus. He sucks in a breath and rolls closer to the door. A green line scans him. “Klaus approved for entry to the War Room,” a voice says.

  Then it scans me.

  I plan to jump into the room as soon as it opens for Klaus, but when the scanner is done, it says, “De Luca approved for entry to the War Room.”

  My suspicions are pricked. Why is the system allowing me in?

  The question is moot as the door slides open.

  We enter a room with a long oval table. A hush falls over the people seated at it as we walk in. I don’t recognize anyone there, as I’ve had no cause to meet them, but I know this is the committee. They are watching a presentation.

  Then I see her.

  Jovana.

  She’s wearing a red dress, tightly fitted. Her hair is perfectly coiffed, like she’s ready to go on a movie set. She’s been talking. Her arm is still upraised, pointing at a towering screen behind her.