Into Light (Shadow and Light Book 2)

by T. D. Shields

  “The second prong is current or former government officials who are ready to step in and restore the democratic government we’re supposed to have. They feed us information where they can, but they will mostly be of use once we have removed the current administration and are ready to rebuild.

  “Then we have the technology people: that’s Luna and her team who have been gathering information. More importantly, Luna has built a backdoor into the security systems. When the time comes, she’ll be able to go in and shut down cameras, alarm grids, and the mechs.”

  “That’s huge,” I breathed. “If you take away the mechs, Cruz loses a lot of his power right there.”

  He nodded. “Exactly. If he can’t send mech troops to break up our groups or protect targets, our chances of success are exponentially better. There are still human troops to worry about, and that is where General Tilden comes in as the fourth prong. If Cruz tries to send the military to break up the rebellion, Tilden can block his orders and keep the troops out of the fight.”

  “When is all this supposed to happen?” I asked. “Is that already decided?”

  “We just have to get this last piece in line with General Tilden, and then we can set things in motion. We’re close.”

  “How do you set things in motion?” I asked.

  He looked like he was going to refuse to share the details again, but he must have seen the resolve on my face because he gave in and grudgingly offered, “I’m in touch with one of the anchors for the evening news broadcast—and no, I won’t say who it is. It’s enough for you to know that I trust this person to follow the plan.

  “When we’re ready, the anchor will work the signal into the evening holo. Our people are all watching the holos for the signal and know that when it comes, we move exactly twelve hours later.”

  “And the signal is?”

  “The anchor will release the texts you sent to Letty describing what you witnessed in the White House and play the vid you recorded. The news will break on the newscast and simultaneously be sent to the international news agencies. At that point, it’s no longer a conspiracy theory, it’s a verified story being told by the former first lady, so that should get us around the treaty restrictions that killed the story before. So the news goes out to the NAA and the rest of the world and it signals our people to get ready to move.

  “Is that enough?” Martín asked impatiently. “We don’t have unlimited time, here. Tilden is only scheduled to be in his office until noon.”

  My eyebrows shot up in surprise. “We’re seeing him in his office? That’s a military building in the center of the government sector, and I’m supposed to just stroll in there? Why not visit him at home?”

  “His home is being watched. It will be a lot harder to go there unobserved than if you go into a public building as just part of the crowd. If you use the same courier disguises you’ve been using, you should be fine. Everyone expects to see couriers going in and out of government offices.

  “You’ll have to remove the helmets to go through security. Luna has removed you from the facial recognition database as yourself and created your new identity.”

  He handed each of us hard plastic ID bracelet and we slipped them on. “These are coded with your new ID and photos. They’re good enough to clear you through the building security, so you’ll just scan in as couriers with an errand in Tilden’s office. You’re on his schedule as a drop-in appointment, so they’ll work you in when you arrive—assuming you get there before he leaves for the day.”

  It felt a little reckless, but I was ready for reckless. At this point, the risk was worth it if I could just be involved and actually do something. I looked at Sharra. Her eyes sparkled, and she was practically vibrating with excitement.

  “It’s about time,” she said. “Can we go right now?”

  I grinned at her. “I just need to grab my wig and makeup and we can head out.

  I looked down at Roomie, “What do you think? Are you coming on this one?”

  He gave a short chirrup with his ears flattened, then trotted into the trees behind us.

  “I take it that’s a no?” Martín asked.

  I shrugged. “I guess he has better things to do.”

  21

  We suited up in our courier gear and took our bikes out to the zip. The zip tracks arced high over the city at several points, so we were able to look down on the streets from above. In many areas, the streets appeared nearly deserted. After the events of the last several weeks, everyone was nervous and staying home where they hoped they would be safe.

  After leaving the zip, we parked our bikes in the public lot and walked along the quiet streets to General Tilden’s building. The doors were guarded by a mech who scanned each person as they entered. I swallowed hard as I stepped up to the door and removed my helmet. This was my first encounter with a mech since returning to Goodland and I was trusting in Luna’s promise that my information no longer existed in the facial recognition databases. If she had not deleted my information as thoroughly as she’d claimed, the mech would recognize me and take me into custody on the spot.

  A grid of red lines briefly lit my face as the mech checked my appearance against the database, and I tried to look casual and unworried. Luna’s expertise was proven a moment later when the scan cleared and the security doors opened for me to enter. I walked into the building with a small sigh of relief. It was premature relief, however, because in the front hallway was a second security checkpoint. This one was manned by human guards checking ID for all entrants instead of the simple bracelet scan I had expected.

  Having passed her scan at the door, Sharra entered the building behind me, and together we joined the short line of people waiting to pass through the checkpoint. We had almost reached the front of the line when I caught sight of the guard checking IDs. My heart stuttered with fear as I recognized him. I casually scanned the lobby, trying to spot an exit.

  It was hopeless. There were no exits until after we passed the checkpoint. If we tried to run now, we would have to shove past the people in line behind us, giving the guards and mechs posted around the lobby plenty of opportunity to notice our attempt to escape. They would have no trouble catching us in that narrow entryway. Our only chance was to continue forward, hoping that the guard would let us pass without incident.

  Trying to give Sharra a little warning, I leaned close and murmured, “The man checking IDs is Greg Smithson; he was part of my security detail for eight years. If anyone is going to see through the disguise …” My voice trailed off. She didn’t need me to paint a picture of what would happen if Greg recognized me and gave us up.

  My hand shook as I stepped forward and held my wristband over the scanner for an ID check. Greg checked the readout and looked up at me to confirm the information. Only the slightest widening of his eyes betrayed his surprise as our eyes met and he recognized me even with the heavy makeup and dull brown wig.

  “Everything checks out, Miss Jenkins,” he said with no hesitation. “Have a nice afternoon.”

  “Thank you,” I replied, my eyes warm with gratitude. Greg gave me an almost imperceptible nod of acknowledgment, then turned to pass Sharra through the checkpoint with a similar ease. My knees were a little wobbly as we strolled to the bank of elevators beyond the guard checkpoint while I still tried to look calm and unconcerned.

  I touched the sensor for floor twenty-five, and a door opened in the side of the elevator tube. The clear, plexi cylinder was just large enough to hold us both, so Sharra and I stepped inside together. The door whispered closed again, and our platform hurtled upward with a whoosh of compressed air. We moved so fast that I could feel the g-forces, making me feel as if I’d momentarily left my stomach on the main floor below. Seconds later the door opened again, and we stepped out on the twenty-fifth floor.

  Sharra spotted the plaque marking General Tilden’s office and led the way inside. She leaned on the high counter at the check-in window and gave the young, male receptionist a sunny s
mile.

  “We’re the couriers here to see General Tilden,” she said sweetly. “We should be in the books as a drop-in.”

  He flushed, slightly dazzled by her brilliant smile, and fumbled at his terminal for a moment before he found the correct listing. “Er … that’s right. I’ll just let him know you’re here.”

  She flashed another one of those smiles and thanked him before walking away with a subtle flip of her hair.

  “Were you trying to make him swallow his tongue?” I asked under my breath. “Or was that just a happy accident?”

  “Just checking to be sure I’ve still got it,” she replied with a grin. “All those guys we’ve been hanging out with lately are so serious. They never give me a second look. I was starting to think I’d lost my oomph.”

  “I think the oomph is all still there.” I assured her with a quiet laugh. “But aren’t you saving the oomph for Rivers these days?”

  “Hey, just because I don’t pass it around doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate an admiring glance here and there. Besides, Rivers is great, but I don’t know if he’s my one and only or anything. We’re still trying things out.”

  Our conversation was interrupted by General Tilden as he opened his office door and invited us in. “Please step into my office, ladies.”

  He closed the door and turned to us with a puzzled expression. “Forgive me, but I’m afraid I can’t remember what it is we were meeting about. Who sent you today?”

  I feigned offense. “I can’t believe you’ve forgotten me so quickly, General! Does that mean you don’t have any cherry candystix for me today?”

  His bushy gray eyebrows shot up in surprise, and he stared at me as he tried to reconcile my unfamiliar appearance with the voice he recognized.

  Giving him time to process, I turned to Sharra and explained, “My father didn’t approve of candy much; he was a little bit of a health nut. But General Tilden always managed to sneak me a couple of my favorite cherry candystix—”

  Before I finished my last sentence, General Tilden had swept me into a giant bear hug, crushing me against his stiffly starched uniform. I wrapped my arms around his waist and squeezed back, my eyes tearing in response to his sweet hug.

  He pulled back and studied my face intently. “How can this be, Poppy? I was sure you were dead. I attended your funeral!”

  “The services were a bit premature as it turns out. Cruz told everyone I was dead, but I managed to escape. I’ve been hiding.”

  General Tilden pulled me over to the couch on the far side of the office and sat down with me. He waved Sharra to a seat in the chair beside us. “Tell me everything,” he demanded. “I want the whole story.”

  The words poured out of me as I shared every bit of my adventures since that day in the White House library. Sharra chimed in occasionally, helping me fill in all the details. It was almost an hour later before I wrapped up my story with, “And so Martín sent us to talk to you. Kind of a show of good faith that the rebellion has good intentions, and we’re not just troublemakers.”

  General Tilden looked deeply troubled by everything he’d heard. “I knew Cruz had turned into a despot, but I had hoped it was just the rise to power that led to the corruption. I had suspicions that he might have been involved in the initial uprising, but I wanted to be wrong.”

  “Believe me,” I told him. “I wish it wasn’t true.”

  “But it is,” he concluded with a sigh. He glanced at his clock and stood. “I wish I could keep you here longer,” he told us. “But I have a lunch appointment soon with Raymond Nexen. Given what you’ve just told me about Raymond’s role in the plot against your father, it would certainly be best if you did not bump into him on your way out.”

  Sharra and I stood, too. “He’s far too perceptive,” I agreed. “I don’t want to risk seeing him and having him recognize me.”

  General Tilden hugged me again. His voice was a deep rumble against my cheek. “Tell Martín that I will watch for the signal, and I’ll ensure that Cruz can’t call on the military for assistance.”

  “Thank you, General,” I whispered, my voice choked with emotion. I hated to leave the comfort of his embrace. I’d spent so much time with him in the company of my father that being with him now was a little like having my father back for a few precious minutes. I stepped back and swiped at my eyes. Sharra squeezed my hand.

  General Tilden gave Sharra a quick hug as well and thanked her for looking out for me, then opened the door and ushered us back into the waiting room. Now that we were in public view again, he was all business.

  “Thank you for bringing the matter to my attention, ladies. I will look into it and get back to you.”

  We thanked him as we left the office, Sharra giving the flustered receptionist one last flirtatious wave as she stepped into the hallway.

  22

  Thrilled with the success of our assignment, Sharra and I practically danced down the street to grab our bikes and hop on the zip. The trip home flew by and it seemed like no time at all before we were pushing our bikes up the rutted access path.

  Gene wasn’t in the storage shed, so we just left the bikes and gear there for him to find later. Heading back to the school, we pushed through the overgrown plants blocking our path. I had to shove a leafy branch out of my way and step over a short cluster of bushes before finally reaching the faint trail that would lead us back to headquarters.

  I heard a rustle in the grass and spotted a patch of gray fur and turned slightly to say hello to Roomie. Rough hands jerked me off my feet and shoved me to the ground. I rolled to the left as soon as I hit the dirt and leapt up again, ready to fight back. An icy mist slapped me in the face, and I gasped in surprise and accidentally sucked the mist deep into my lungs.

  Immediately, my vision began to blur. I realized that the mist contained some sort of drug, and then I was struggling to make my limbs obey me as I tried to escape from the hands that were grabbing at me again. I was being pinned against a man’s chest, so I threw my head backward as hard as I could. I felt the crunch as the back of my head crashed into the man’s face.

  I couldn’t see anything now. Everything had gone dark, and I felt like the world was spinning around me. I could still hear clearly though, and I recognized Mateo’s voice as he threw me back to the ground. He was swearing because I’d just broken his nose for a second time.

  I could feel, too. I definitely felt it when Mateo’s foot connected viciously with my hip, stomach, and ribs several times. The jolts of pain staved off unconsciousness for a few more seconds. I could hear at least two other men shouting and restraining Mateo to prevent him from kicking me anymore, followed by more scrambling and swearing as they tried to pick me up and got a face-full of sharp claws from an attacking Roomie.

  The chaotic scuffle licked at the edges of my mind as I finally lost my battle to the sedative.

  “Get the cat!

  “He’s over there. Gas him!”

  “Grab him!”

  Roomie’s yowl of distress was the last thing I heard as the blackness pulled me under.

  23

  I was drifting in darkness … floating and unconnected to anything around me, remarkably unconcerned about anything in spite of a small nagging feeling that I should be worried. I was dimly aware that I was unconscious, but concentrating enough to wake up and understand the faint voices speaking somewhere above my head was too much effort. There was a vague sense of pain all over my body, particularly in my ribs and my right leg. Not wanting to face the pain, I let darkness pull me under again.

  A bright flare of agony in my leg yanked me closer to waking. I tried to shut it out, but it came again, and then again. Finally, I dragged my heavy eyes open and found myself nose to nose with Sharra. She was laying on her side, a cloth tied over her mouth and her hands bound behind her back. Her green eyes stared fiercely into mine, willing me to do something.

  I tried to understand what she wanted, but my brain was fuzzy and slow. Dark waves of s
leep were beginning to wash over me again, and I felt my eyes falling closed. Another sharp pain in my leg snapped me awake. It now occurred to me that the pain was actually a result of Sharra kicking me repeatedly in the shin.

  As the misty confusion finally began to recede, I realized that Sharra had been trying to wake me. The feel of cool, gritty concrete against my cheek and the dry rasp of cloth across my parched lips and tongue told me that Sharra was not the only one bound, gagged, and lying on the floor.

  I tugged at my hands. They were tightly restrained behind my back, my shoulders aching with the uncomfortable position. But my feet were free; that might be helpful.

  Rolling my eyes to try and see the room around us, I could tell that we were in some sort of warehouse. The dusty, run-down look of the place and a lack of automated systems for loading and unloading cargo made me think this was probably one of the unused warehouses near the rail line in the old part of the city rather than one of the many busy warehouses found in the commercial districts.

  Lighter patches in the general murkiness of the dark room showed me that narrow, mostly broken windows were spaced along the walls, allowing dim light to enter from the street outside. The only bright light in the room shone from an area in front of me and above my head. A half-wall of corrugated metal partially blocked my view of that space, but the bright, unwavering quality of the light implied a more modern, hi-tech light source than would have originally been found in this old building. Probably a lantern of some type based on the limited expanse of the light.