by A J Jameson
“Maybe if we go back,” she said.
Marek shook his head. “Not yet.”
“You saw the files—”
“And that’s why we can’t go back. I’m not going to brush this stuff under the rug, Zee. I’ll expose him in front of everybody.”
“What if it’s his prerogative, to be the only operative with the security clearance to access these files?” Eduardo said.
“And what about murdering those operatives?” Marek asked.
A horn beeped. Zyta cursed and pulled into a garage. Umar’s garage, Marek noted.
“So now you believe me?” Zyta asked.
“I don’t know what I believe.”
The horn beeped again. From his sideview mirror, Marek recognized the cherry-red Volvo from C3U’s vehicle lineup. The driver came into focus as he leaned forward; Ray, from Alpha squad. And beside him, Sadie. They were dispatched long before Law’s threat. And that meant…he’s already classified us as the enemy.
Marek was thrusted forward as Zyta floored it in reverse. The medical van slammed into the Volvo. “What are you doing?” Marek yelled.
Tires screeched as the van pushed against the Volvo’s front end. Ray was pushing back, trying to keep the van contained within the garage. But it didn’t have the weight nor horsepower to compete. Smoke from the tires engulfed the smaller vehicle. Slowly, but consistently, the medical van inched its way out of the garage. Zyta slammed the gear into drive and took off. The Volvo didn’t follow.
“Marek you turn around this instant and return to base,” Law spoke through their METs.
“You just tried to kill us,” Zyta shrieked.
“Kill? Alpha squad has orders to bring you in alive. Why would I kill two of my best operatives?”
“I don’t know, so why don’t you tell us? Why’d you kill our parents?”
“I didn’t…” but he trailed off—choked up. “It’s…complicated.”
“Yolanda, I’ve implanted two tracking chips into the necks of Axel and Imogen,” Marek said. “They’re numbers 63 and 64. Activate them and synchronize them to my own chip. If mine detonates, so does theirs.”
“What tracker? What are you talking about, Marek?” Law asked.
“The trackers Little Eye hacked.”
“Sorry, sir,” Yolanda said. “The information was yet to be confirmed.”
The lies just keep stacking up. “Yolanda, did you copy my last?”
“Copy,” she said.
“We’re moving ahead with the mission,” Law said. “After that, we will bring you in by any means necessary. Now update me on these trackers, Yolanda.” The line went cold.
Marek opened the laptop to skim more files from the external hard drives, but his access had been revoked. Zyta kept them on a straight path until she felt they were out of range for C3U to communicate with the van. Upon reaching this distance, Eduardo offered to pick up some grub from one of his contacts down south, a guy who had helped him put together Zyta’s birthday cake.
“An illegitimate birthday,” Zyta muttered, but followed Eduardo’s directions all the same.
Marek unmounted the laptop, brought it to Axel, and smacked some life into Axel’s dopey face. “I need you to find out what C3U’s current mission is, and what time they plan on executing that mission.” Axel rubbed his cheek, then the back of his neck. “Oh, and there’s been a change in the roster. You’re part of the team now.” The kid smiled in his gullible way, but it lasted only until he searched both of his ears for his missing MI.
Marek laughed at his own words—you’re going to hack the system in my favor for once. Why should the kid do Marek any favors, after all he’s been put through? Denied MI, destroyed artificial intelligence, repeatedly sedated, threatened, and physically assaulted…how could such a person ever be expected to comply? “Shit.”
“What?” Axel said, itching his ear.
“Nothing.” The kid flinched for no reason. And now we’ve given him PTSD. “Just…let me know when you get logged-in.”
Chapter 21
The first thing Axel noticed about the laptop that Marek had given him was the small blue LED light next to the camera lens. Somebody was watching, and…no, where is it? His MI was gone.
“Shit,” Marek said.
“What?” Axel asked, his gaze never straying from the blue LED. Words scrolled along the top edge of the laptop, tiny and fleeting. They read, “Flinch the next time he moves.”
“Nothing,” Marek said, rubbing at his temples.
Axel waited for Marek’s arm to fall before recoiling in his seat, and then wore his best frightened face.
“Just, let me know when you get logged-in,” Marek said, returning to the front of the van.
“You want me to watch him?” Shaved Head asked.
“I don’t think he’s going to do anything,” Marek said. “I’m more worried about her.”
Shaved Head glanced at Imogen, bound to a chair with rope. She’s going to be sore when she wakes up, Axel thought, realizing that his neck and shoulders had some kinks of their own.
“She’s out cold,” Shaved Head said, and filled the gap between the driver and passenger seats, his next words spoken at a decibel too low for Axel to hear.
Axel meant to engage with the laptop, but his eyes drifted to Imogen. Her arms were pinned to either side, hands bound tightly against thighs, their tips pulsating a deep red. Her head was slumped down, chin touching chest, and her disheveled hair was draped on either side of her face to hide everything but her nose and those abnormally plush lips. And her neck, Axel noticed, exposed beneath her parted hair.
Axel ran a finger down the nape of his own neck, feeling the entry wound and the small hard bump that was his…promotion? Marek said earlier that Axel was now part of the team. But I don’t want to be part of this team. Not anymore.
A message scrolled along the top edge of the laptop. “The people you are with should have your MI stashed in a duffle bag. Ask for it. Say it’ll help you work. When you get it, just listen. DON’T SPEAK.”
“Hello?” Axel said.
The whispering up front ceased. “There’s no way,” Marek said, and then stepped around Shaved Head. “You’re logged-in?”
“No, I need my MI.”
He laughed. “Of course. Listen, your MI isn’t going to help you anymore—”
“It helps me work,” Axel cut in. “You have it stashed in the duffle bag.”
Marek’s eyes furrowed like a ghost helplessly lost in purgatory. Based on Axel’s facial recognition studies, Marek was either really confused or utterly stumped by an arithmetical question. Adding up all possible angles… “I overheard someone mention it back at your home base. My MI.”
Marek supplemented the unknown variables and solved his equation. A nod, followed by him returning to the front cabin, followed by him returning Axel’s MI. He handed it over, leaned against the metal partition, and watched.
Axel did as the laptop had instructed. He inserted the MI in his ear, and he listened. “Make no facial movements. Pretend you aren’t hearing this. In the laptop type a generic login name and password.” Axel turned away from Marek and entered the information. “Next, press your forefinger against the laptop’s print reader.” Axel did. Nothing happened. “Try again.” Nothing still. Murmurs began again in the front cabin and the van made a right turn. “Pretend to adjust your MI.” Axel did. “Now say my name.”
“Little Eye.”
“Raise your pitch at the end. Make it a question.”
“Little Eye?”
“Now look at Marek expectantly.”
Marek’s knitted brows slowly undid themselves and a smile crept along his ghostly lips. Another satisfied equation. “Let me know if you get logged-in,” he said, and gently smacked the metal partition.
“Wait,” Axel said, repeating the words spoken in his ear. “Did you kill Little Eye?”
Marek took a breath, then exhaled, his body shrinking into itself. When he met Axe
l’s gaze, there was nothing but hollowness inside. “Let me know when you get logged-in.” He returned to his seat.
“Very good, Axel,” Little Eye said. “We have to make sure they continue to think I’m gone. Don’t say my name, don’t ask me questions. Shake your head yes or no to answer me. I’ll be watching through the webcam. Understand?”
Axel nodded.
“Start typing more generic usernames and passwords, followed by testing the print reader every so often. You must remain busy, and useful. I’ve made a deal with them to keep you and Imogen alive, but it’s not fail-safe.”
Axel typed the username: “ThanksforImogen.” The password: “ParentsJordan?”
“Clever, Axel. Your parents are safe, and I’ve been keeping them content with text messages, although your mother’s getting more and more ornery. Jordan is safe. I took him out of his foster home.”
Axel typed the username: “TookHimOut?” The password: “ToWhere?”
“A safe place where no harm can come to him. But that’s not important right now. The safety of your life is in jeopardy, Axel. We must do everything we can to ensure your survival. I have a plan, but you have to listen, and do exactly as I say.”
Axel typed “OK,” but didn’t hit send. Something about the scenario, him at the laptop, his keystrokes falling to the mercy of another person…they’re the same. Little Eye and Marek. People who give you something to do for the good of the cause, but always with a threat attached.
“This will work, Axel. I promise.” Watching. Somebody is always watching me. “I’m going to grant you access to C3U’s database. Now turn your laptop away so the others can’t see the screen, but don’t be too suspicious.” Axel angled the laptop. “I’m transferring the files now. If you become in danger of being compromised, clear your throat and I’ll exit the program. We’ll have to start again, but—”
“What is this?” The voice, low and grungy, startled Axel, and he accidentally smacked the laptop away, bumping it against the wall. Imogen had finally awakened. But not fully, he realized, as her body failed to match the fury in her tone of voice.
“Axel, the laptop,” Little Eye said.
He turned in his chair and reached for it just as the screen flickered to blackness. He shut it as a precaution.
“You were logged-in and you didn’t tell me?” A hand fell on Axel’s shoulder and spun him around. Momentum carried him off the anchored stool. Marek cocked his arm back, his hand balled into a tight fist. Then gravity shifted. He stumbled, and the van slowed to a stop.
“Are you getting this too, Marek?” Zyta asked. The concern in her voice drew Marek’s attention. He pulled out his cellphone.
“Open the laptop, Axel,” Little Eye said.
He almost told her no—don’t say my name, don’t ask me questions.
“I’m gonna kill every last one of you,” Imogen muttered. But nobody paid her any mind.
“Open the laptop, Axel, so you’ll know what your enemy is seeing.”
Axel obeyed, going through the motions as smoothly and quietly as possible. A news channel was broadcasting on the small screen. The reporter at the desk spoke through Axel’s MI. “Some people simply refuse to sign the petition, arguing that it is their born-right to have access to clean, drinkable water.”
The footage cut to a heavy-set, heavily sweating pedestrian. “Signing this petition is buying the lie that there is more than one solution to the problem. Purified, clean water, safe for consumption by the general public, is the only solution. So why should I participate in an action that says otherwise?”
The camera cut to another bystander, this one dressed in a formal suit and tie. “The water purification systems have gone through vigorous renovations that will provide the most sanitary solutions.”
Back at the news room, the reporter addressed the camera. “Give us your thoughts on this developing crisis at—”
Staticky and blurred images bent and melded until their shapes formed a live-stream video of a garage. Another news reporter, wearing a dark-hued suit that nicely contrasted his winter-white hair, spoke of the incident. “Umar Javed, thirty-one, a doctor who worked as an Audiologist at Greenleaf hospital, marks the 67th overdose belonging to the opiate family in the past three months. Javed’s family have yet to comment, but a neighbor claims he’d never known the victim to dabble in narcotics before. More to come—” the screen went black.
The van was so quiet that Axel was afraid they’d hear Little Eye’s words. “Now let’s see if they blame the right people.”
Axel waited for a follow-up video. Something to explain to him—to them—what the next plan of action was. “Cut me free and I won’t kill you,” Imogen said, her words audible this time, if non-threatening. The answer she received came in the form of muffled weeping. And then Marek entered.
“You set this up?” he asked Axel.
“No, I just logged-in for only a few seconds before the screen went black.”
“I did.” Imogen’s voice was a low growl.
Marek smirked, but kept his eye on Axel. “Why didn’t you tell me you were logged-in?”
“I was only in for a few seconds, and then—”
“I don’t believe you,” Marek said, his pasty flesh growing pink.
“I did it,” Imogen said. “And I’ll do worse if you don’t untie me.”
Marek smirked again, and then shook his head. The muffled sobs up front were slowly blossoming into choked cries. Axel barely had time to flinch as Marek’s fist came crashing down.
“You cowardly piece of shit,” Imogen spat. “Come at me.”
Marek’s fist fell again like a meteor. This time Axel was able to put his hands up in a defensive position, but he ended up punching himself in the eye. And then a blow from the left that Axel didn’t see coming. A burst of pain as his brain rebounded from one side of his skull to the other.
“I’m going to kill you,” Imogen said, her restraints yanking her back. Axel prayed for the first time since he was a child, and asked God to let Imogen break free.
Another punch to the face slammed Axel’s head against the metal floor. His neck stretched to the left as an unseen blow pelted the side of his skull. “For every threat you make, I punch twice,” Marek said.
“For every punch I remove one of your fingers and feed it to you,” Imogen responded.
“You picked a stupid partner,” Marek said.
“She’s not my—” his words were lopped short, Marek’s bony knuckles hammering the front of Axel’s teeth. Warm liquid filled Axel’s mouth. He tongued the wound, a gash under his lower lip where the teeth had torn through flesh. His hands spread wide to cover his face, Axel awaited the next blow. But it never came.
“What the hell is going on?” a voice Axel recognized as the authority figure of C3U—Law—came streaming through Axel’s MI.
“You just had to kill him, didn’t you,” Marek said.
“I’ve been trying to reach you. Now tell me what the hell is going on, Marek. Why haven’t you reported back?”
“You killed him!” Zyta’s words entered Axel’s mind like a drill bit through the ears. She repeated the accusation twice before Shaved Head stepped in to calm her down, whispering words that only they could hear.
Law waited until the commotion had ceased to speak. “You knew the protocol for fraternizing with outsiders, and then broke it.”
“That’s bull,” Marek said.
“She went to his house without clearance on multiple occasions, the most recent being a visit with stolen classified information in her possession. What was I supposed to do, leave it to fate that she didn’t share the files?”
“We never went inside.”
“I don’t know that for certain. It had to be done, Marek.”
Marek almost tripped over Axel as the van jerked into motion. He peered down, his eyes bloodshot and raging. “Did you kill our parents?” he asked.
“No, of course not,” Law said.
But
the doubt remained. Even with one of his eyes swollen almost fully shut, Axel recognized Marek’s expression of disbelief. “My MI,” Axel said. He exposed his face to remove the device and offered it to Marek. “Wear it, then ask.”
Another expression of disbelief, this one different than the last. A question of action, rather than words. It was a strange look for the ghost man. He accepted the MI. “You didn’t harm Lori Hill or Edison Able in any way?”
The van was completely quiet. Even Imogen had stopped wriggling against her restraints.
“Yes, I’ve read the files,” Marek said. “Answer the question.”
Gravity shifted as they made a turn.
“No what?” Marek said.
A moment later he crossed the cabin and bashed the laptop with his pistol. Over and over again…a complete loss of control. Axel flinched at the thought of Marek accidently pulling the trigger or smashing the mechanism so hard it fired a round by malfunction. But neither happened, and soon enough Marek regained control. He turned around, primed the weapon, and aimed at Imogen’s head. No one in the front cabin tried to stop him.
“Do it,” Imogen said. “Kill me and blow the cervical charges.”
Marek turned on Axel. “How’s that make you feel, knowing she’s willing to risk your life?”
“You’ll lose a whole lot more than we will,” Imogen said.
Through the metal partition, Axel glimpsed Zyta. “You don’t want to kill your sister, do you?” he asked.
Marek wore an expression Axel couldn’t interpret. It wasn’t interrogative, nor incredulous…it wasn’t anything Axel had ever seen before. Had Little Eye spoken to him through Axel’s MI? Maybe his own interior monologue, seesawing between letting them all live or pulling the trigger. Marek eased the hammer back to its homing position and holstered the pistol. “Never.” He removed the MI and handed it back to Axel.
“Coward.” Imogen had no means of protection, no way to soften the blow of Marek’s pistol across her face. She spat a tooth. Marek wound back and hit her again, this time across her temple. There was a sickening crunch as metal met bone. Her head fell limp to her chest.
“All right, I have a plan,” Marek said.
