Jett lowered his voice. "So, this investigation of yours. It ended up involving business of the Haven? And you think your daughter's win was retaliation?"
LeBlanc's eyes blurred when he nodded. "Haven't heard anything since. I'm completely in the dark. It's like she just vanished. No telling what's she's been through. Or if she's even alive. She's just…missing."
He took a long swig of beer and cleared his throat. "Guess I'm saying, if you ever come across any pertinent information on your new job, feel free to pass it on. I'll consider it payback for the work I did."
Jett's eyes slid in LeBlanc's direction. "What new job are you talking about?"
Even stranger are reports of a man taking down rioters and gang members in acts of alleged vigilantism. Eyewitness accounts are sketchy, but many have provided details that match the appearance and methods of Vigil, whose last known appearance was nearly two decades ago.
LeBlanc grinned as the report went on. "I'm talking about your new role as project manager for the Youth Haven, of course."
"I didn't know anyone knew about that."
"Well, it's not common knowledge. I just got ways of putting two and two together."
"Well, I hope you're not planning on spreading the news around. I'd rather keep a low profile if you know what I mean."
"I know exactly what you mean, brother. Don't worry, your secret's safe with ol' LeBlanc. And if you ever need a hand with anything, you can count on me. I mean that."
A small smile touched Jett's lips. "I just might take you up on that, LeBlanc."
Kermit frowned in their direction. "You girls gonna order another drink or keep whispering in each other's ears? This here's a bar, not some couple's lounge."
LeBlanc pulled out a smoke and lit it. "Keep that up and you'll scare all your customers away, my man. Not that you have any to scare off."
"You can go to hell, LeBlanc. You ordering or not?"
"Slide me another lager, brother. One for my bud, too. On me."
Jett stood up, patting LeBlanc on the shoulder. "Next time. I gotta check in on someone. See you around."
"Definitely." LeBlanc picked up a bottle and drank, watching the news. And thinking about his little girl.
Ⓥ
"Don't wanna." Mira's jaw clenched as she assumed a stance of pure stubbornness: fists on hips, one foot planted forward. "I have to take care of my sister. You can't make me stay here."
Jett sighed. "You're really embarrassing me here, Mira. I told you that you're in danger. No need to think you're safe just because the hit squad was taken out."
"You want to put me away because you don't wanna be bothered." Mira's face was still set in a furious glare, but a tear slid down her cheek. "You think I'll tell everyone about your secret identity."
Jett glanced over at Qhawa for help. She raised a bemused eyebrow in return. They were in a safehouse she secured, somewhere in Manhaven. The room was small but comfortable, furnished with real wooden furniture. The scent of lemongrass hung in the air.
Qhawa padded on bare feet, circling Mira with her hands clasped behind her back. In her voluminous rose-patterned robes, she looked every inch the mysterious mentor. "I remember being your age, Mira. I was homeless and alone, no parents to remember. No plans for any kind of future, only the streets and the violence that came with them. A man helped me then, just as Jett is helping you now. His name was Wayne Thomas."
Mira gave her a cautious glance. "So?"
"He had another name. Another life. And in time he allowed me to become a part of it."
Jett raised a hand. "Listen, I don't think this is the time—"
Qhawa ignored him, focusing her gaze on Mira. "His other name was Vigil. His other life was fighting criminals and evildoers." She glanced at Jett. "Just as he does."
Mira's eye's widened. "You were his partner?"
"Yes. I took the name Viper and aided him when he needed it."
"Really? That's ace. And you'll teach me to do what you did?"
"I will teach you to survive, Mira. What you do with those skills will be up to you. And him."
Mira turned to Jett with the widest smile he'd ever seen. "Did you hear that, Jett? We're gonna be partners!"
He shook his head. "That's not what she said. Besides, I'm not looking for a partner." He glared at Qhawa, who answered with a diffident shrug before fixing Mira with a stern look.
"The first part of our education is obedience. So go to your quarters, shower and prepare for bed. We will begin your training tomorrow."
"Yes, Qhawa."
Jett watched in shock as she obediently left the room, although she did pause to stick her tongue out at him before rounding the corner. He turned to Qhawa.
"Have you lost your mind? I thought you were going to help."
"I am helping."
"By filling her head with delusions? She can't be my partner. Her life will be in danger."
"I never said she was to be your partner. And you put her life in danger the moment you pulled her into your world, Jett. This is all your doing, remember? My job is to teach her how to say alive. So if you didn't want her to be a part of Vigil's life, you never should have brought her to me."
Jett opened his mouth, then thought better of it. She's right. There's no other option other than trying to get Mira entirely out of the city. With all the spying eyes, he doubted that she'd make it very far.
"How are you doing, Jett?"
"Fine, I guess."
"You lie. You came face to face with your past, and it haunts you still. I see it in your eyes."
He found it hard to meet her penetrating gaze. "Yeah, it shook me. Seeing them again, seeing her face after all this time…it was hard."
She nodded. "I want you to come with me."
"Where?"
"To finish this."
Chapter 22
Jett glanced backward. The city dwindled in the distance; the towering buildings just silhouettes, fingers pointed at the sapphire ceiling. The skimmer was sleek and small, nearly cramped with just himself and Qhawa inside. Its anti-grav thrusters kept it hovering above the surface while rear thrusters propelled it at one hundred fifty miles per hour, leaving a long plume of dust in its wake.
The area around the city wasn't dead as he expected. Greenery ran wild; trees, brush and vines overrunning ancient and long-abandoned homes and businesses. The air was fresh enough to sting his lungs, the light brighter than he'd seen since awakening. Wildlife was everywhere. Rabbits, deer, and foxes ran out of the way, startled by the sonic alarm projected from the front of the skimmer. Jett was surprised to see a herd of giraffes feeding on foliage along the roadside.
All the animals from the zoos had to go somewhere, I guess. Must be an entirely new ecosystem out here.
He glanced at Qhawa, who remained silent the entire ride. "It's beautiful. Why don't people live out here?"
She smiled. "People do."
"You going to tell me where we're going?"
"We're nearly there."
The skimmer slowed to a stop at what looked like the remains of a compound. Nothing was left except the foundation and a few broken corners. A large bobcat sat on its haunches ten yards away, gazing at them with serene golden eyes. Jett got out slowly, disturbed by the familiarity, like a dream hovering on the edge of his consciousness.
Qhawa looked at him. "Do you know where you are?"
The Armordillo rounded a collapsed bridge, bringing their destination in view. The compound was an outpost from the Imperial War, another relic abandoned when the greater concern arrived.
Jett took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He was afraid that if he turned around, he'd see the sky tear open again, spewing fire and death.
"Yeah. This is where we died. Where they died, I mean. Why did you bring me here?"
"Because you need to face it. You cannot be Vigil if you are running from your past."
He exhaled, nodding. Squaring his shoulders, he walked to the foundation. A rusted entrance
way opened to stairs leading into the underground portion of the building.
Qhawa handed him a headlamp. "I'll be here when you get back."
He nodded, strapping the device on. Then he turned and descended into the darkness. The hallway was overlain with dust that powered the air with every step. The air was dank and musty. He walked slowly, dimly aware of the mounting fear that compressed his chest, making it hard to breathe. He paused at a dirt-covered object on the floor.
A skeleton greeted him. It was small; a life snuffed out before its time. The memories started to gel together.
Jett rolled to his feet and ran inside, fanning his rifle back and forth. A single body lay inside, shredded by the detonation. He rolled the corpse over with his boot.
"Just a kid. Bastards must have left him to guard the door. Damn it!"
He glanced at the hallway door. The laboratory, where more skeletons lay. Deviants. And Jax, head blown apart. Jett didn't bother going inside. He proceeded down the hall and took the long trip down the stairwell, deeper into the gloom of the past.
Arriving at the bottom, he stared at the blackened, soot-stained entrance of the command center.
Gunfire erupted, turning the chamber into a close-quarter bloodbath. Jett fired at the nearest Deviants, howling as his team took mortal wounds from point-blank range. Bodies jerked in grotesque motion as the room flickered with muzzle flashes, the air filled with screams…
Jett walked inside.
The room covered in char and dust, shredded and wrecked by the explosion. Bones littered the floor; scorch marks scarred the walls.
He stumbled from one to the next, checking for vital signs. There weren't any.
"Jett."
He turned at the sound of the phantom voice. The light from his headlamp beamed on a skull peering from the remains of a tattered combat suit. His throat constricted. He knew exactly who it was.
He followed the warbling voice, shoving away a blazing section of collapsed ceiling. Tatsu lay underneath. Her helmet was shattered, revealing her face. It was the only part of her that wasn't shredded by the explosion.
He knelt, tracing a finger along the cheekbone of Tatsu's skull. She was long gone, just like everything else in the compound. The place was a tomb, everyone in it was dead.
But he wasn't.
He stood, glancing at the broken door. In his mind he heard her voice, the final words she spoke to him.
"Go."
Ⓥ
The stasis lab was pristine. Only the faintest coat of dust filmed the equipment. It looked as if ready for use once more. He stared at the pod they pulled him from. The door was ajar; the empty cavity nearly beckoning.
"Hello, Jett."
He whirled around at the sound of the voice. A man sat on the edge of the console on the opposite side of the room. He was mid-sixties, athletic build, silver-haired. His face was carved lines and rigid angles, the face of a man who gave orders and expected them to be obeyed.
"You."
William Golding smiled. "Yes, me."
"What are you doing here?"
"I'm not here, Jett. I'm in Haven Core. But holographic projection is all the rage, so here I am. Your presence triggered alarms in the lab, so naturally I wanted to see who the intruder was. I'm actually not surprised to see you. I figured you'd show up sooner or later."
"You left me here to rot."
Golding raised an eyebrow. "Did I? I did awaken before you. That was on purpose. I had plans, you see. But after my team and I settled down, I made sure to tip off some scavengers to find you. You've had quite the reboot, haven't you? Made some new friends, found a rather unique occupation for yourself."
Jett's eyes narrowed. "You've been watching."
"I watch everything. Information is power, and I used it to gain entrance into the Haven. But my electronic eyes are ever watchful on the outside as well. There are no secrets from me, Jett. Or should I call you Vigil?"
Jett folded his arms. "I guess you'll have HC pick me up when I get back, then."
"Pick you up? Why would I do that? Information shared with everyone is worthless. Consider this our little secret. I wouldn't worry about Haven Core or their little operatives, either. Vigil and your Agent friend may not be high on their gift list, but you've earned their respect. There's a lot of politicking that goes on inside, and this debacle will keep them putting out fires for months. I'll pull what strings I can in the meantime to keep their attention focused elsewhere."
"Why would you help me? You cloned my soldiers. Cloned me, for God's sake."
"I borrowed, Jett. Don't take it personally."
"Borrowed? You stole my life!"
"Just scraped off the fringes. The synoids were a distraction, something to occupy the attention of the Haven Core elite. But I understand how that might offend you, so my apologies."
Jett sneered. "Your apologies? Seems like you do whatever you want, Golding. Why even go out of your way at all?"
Because you fascinate me, Jett. Such a rich and tragic history, and yet you keep going. Keep fighting for others. There's something inspiring in that. Who knows, maybe the two of us will be the catalysts for real change in the Haven and beyond."
"I wouldn't count on that."
"I only count on one thing in the end, Jett. Be seeing you." Golding winked as his hologram faded out, leaving Jett alone in the empty chamber.
When he finally ascended the stairs and stepped out into the light, Qhawa was waiting. Leaned against the skimmer, the wind flailing her raven black hair. She gave him a searching look.
"Did you find anything, Jett?"
"No. There's nothing here."
"Did you leave something behind?"
"Yes."
"What?"
"The past. No more looking back for me, Qhawa. There's only what I am now. And what I have to do from this point forward."
Qhawa smiled. "Do you know where the name Vigil comes from?"
"Vigilante, I'd guess."
"No. It's after the act of staying awake when others are asleep. Keeping watch. Being vigilant. That's why Wayne Thomas chose the name. And now that is you if you're ready. Are you ready, Jett?"
"I'm ready."
Ⓥ
Ronnie Banks blinked open her eyes.
"Isaac!"
"Easy, Banks. You've been through the wringer."
She cautiously raised herself. She was in a hospital bed. Consoles displaying her vitals winked from their attachments, and a slender android paused in the act of placing a tray of food on the retractable tray.
Chief Moore gave her an encouraging smile from the chair in the corner. "They said you'd be waking up. Thought I'd be here for the good news."
"How long have I been out?"
"Little over twelve hours since you were dropped off. About a day before that."
She rubbed her temples, trying to collect her thoughts. "Dropped off? I don't remember what happened."
"All we can piece together is that someone took you away from the scene and put you in an Accelerated Healing Process Pod. After you knitted up, the person dropped you off on the rooftop of the hospital."
"Are you serious? Who did it?"
Moore shrugged. "Beats the hell out of me. Surveillance caught nothing. Whoever the good Samaritan was, doctors say he saved your life."
Ronnie leaned back into her pillows, suddenly exhausted. "Is Isaac okay?"
"He's fine. It was only his body that was blown to bits. We have another unit getting prepped for alignment. Once it finishes, you'll have your partner up and running again."
"What about Nora Brewer?"
"She never knew she was targeted. She was at home when you had your run-in with the Hellrazors. Saw some of it from her window. We've informed her of the danger and got her out the city in protective custody. She'll have to relocate to another location, but at least she's alive. You saved her life, Ronnie."
She nodded. "What's the Commissioner saying? Am I…finished?"
"Co
mmish can't say anything at the moment, Banks. Seems the man had a heart attack."
"What?"
"Yeah. Came sudden and severe. Transplant is undergoing right now, but I can't say how things will go. Let's just say you're not at the top of his mind right now."
"I'm…sorry to hear that."
"I bet you are. Listen, I got a real juggling act going on with the Commish out. Gotta make some calls and see some people. Be back to check on you. Take it easy, now, Banks. The AHPP might have saved your life, but you need a lot of rest to recover. Make sure you get it. That's an order."
She gave a weak smile. "Yes, sir."
He tapped a vase of flowers on the windowsill. "These came from your friend. He's been by a few times."
"My friend?"
"Yeah. Jett Wolfe. I think he likes you." Moore gave her a gruff smile. "Rest up, Agent."
She waited until the door closed behind him before she sat up. The room was cold, the air processed with a stale medicinal scent. The sensation of isolation crept in around her like ghostly tendrils.
She glanced at the flower vase. An e-note notification flashed on the front, pulsing in a friendly green color. She reached over and pressed play.
A hologram beamed from the button, morphing into a profile image of Jett. At that size, it was easy to study his chiseled features. It wasn't the hardened, dead-eyed visage of Big Top. Jett's eyes were dark but full of life–weariness, melancholy, determination, wry humor—all of it and more glimmered in his gaze.
"Hi, Ronnie. Trying to get the hang of this thing. Hope this comes out right. I was sorry to hear about your injuries. I talked to your Chief—Moore I think he said his name was. He told me you were lucky. Should be back on your feet soon. Oh, and Mira is safe. She'll be taken care of, so no worries about that. You can check in with her whenever you feel up to it."
He cleared his throat. "Guess that's it. Not gonna take up your time—I know you have friends and family there. Get well soon, and…I'll see you around."
The message shut off. Ronnie sat cross-legged on the bed and glanced around at the empty room.
"Friends and family. Yeah, sure."
Knight in Cyber Armor Page 20
