by S. A. Beck
Otto smiled as he followed Jaxon. That guy might have been a mess, but he knew what he was doing. Even if someone did pick up the frequency, it was scrambled with a military-grade cipher, and only their headsets had the key.
Jaxon had turned a couple of times, and once, Otto could’ve sworn she’d spotted him, but she kept on going, strolling through the shopping area and casually looking at the displays in the windows.
Keep calm. If she thought you were stalking her, she would have bolted. If she had recognized you, she would have come over. She doesn’t suspect a thing. As long as she stays casual, everything’s fine. Once Grunt and Vivian check the coast is clear, you can make contact.
Jaxon pushed out of the crowd and went down a side street. Otto slowed, seeing the crowd was much thinner there. He let Jaxon gain some distance on him.
Once he entered the street, he spotted her about half a block away, looking into the window of a shop. She opened the door and entered.
Otto stepped into the street and hurried to catch up.
“We ready yet?” he whispered into his mic.
“Coast is clear from this vantage point, Pyro,” Grunt’s voice came into his ear.
“Vivian, what about from where you are?”
Silence.
“Vivian? Are we a go?” Otto asked again.
He had made it to the shop’s window. Otto cocked his head to see it was a martial-arts shop. Since when had she been interested in that? Otto remembered how she had liked to smack the punching bag at the gym in their group home. She’d been a natural. Was she taking martial arts classes now?
They’d only been separated for a couple of months, but it felt like ages. He’d lived a whole life since then. Apparently, she had too.
Peering through the window, he could make out Jaxon standing in one of the aisles.
He glanced both ways. No one looked suspicious in this street. Why wasn’t Vivian giving the go ahead? He waited a full minute, growing more tense by the second.
“Vivian, do you see anything suspicious?”
Jaxon turned towards the window. Otto ducked out of view.
“She ain’t responding, Pyro,” Grunt said. “I don’t know what’s wrong.”
“Equipment failure?” Otto asked.
“Nope,” Edward said over the line. “System all checks out.”
Grunt cursed. “I’ll go check on her. Don’t make contact, Pyro.”
Otto took a couple of steps away from the store.
The door opened, and Jaxon stepped out.
Otto’s breath caught as she looked right at him.
She stared, incredulous, then her eyes widened in delight. “Otto!”
Jaxon flew into her arms. Otto held her tightly, breathing in her scent. Damn, he’d forgotten how nice she smelled and how good it felt to hold her.
She pulled back to look up at him, her arms still around his middle.
“What are you doing here?” she asked. “Did they let you out of jail?”
“No, they busted me out.”
“Busted you out? Who?”
“The Atlantis Allegiance. We came for you.”
“Who? Why?”
Otto realized he was babbling like a madman.
“Look, there’s no time to explain now, but you’re in danger. Remember those guys in the greenhouse? They’re still after you. In fact, they’ve already got you. Come with me.”
Grunt’s voice came into his ear. “Damn it, Pyro, have you already made contact?”
Otto remembered the mic was open. Everyone could hear everyone else at all times.
“She spotted me. Where’s Vivian?”
“Can’t find her. Stay put at your present location. I’m coming.”
“What’s going on?” Jaxon asked as she peered curiously at the headset, half hidden by his hooded sweatshirt.
“If I knew that, I’d tell you. Trouble, most likely,” Otto said.
Grunt’s voice came into his ear again. “Get her off the street and into a shop. Stay out of sight. I know what street you’re on. Once I get there, I’ll tell you, and you can come out. But get out of sight right now!”
“What’s going on?” Jaxon demanded.
Otto realized the look on his face showed her they were in danger. Without a word, he hustled her back inside the martial-arts shop. The man behind the counter frowned at them.
Otto led her to the last of the store’s three aisles, well out of sight of the window. Racks of martial-arts uniforms and padding for sparring matches made a thick barrier that blocked the view from the door and window. Otto bent down so his head didn’t show over the top. Jaxon was short enough that she didn’t need to.
He turned to her and held her by the shoulders. All he wanted to do was kiss her and tell her how much he had missed her, but that wasn’t the time. They never had the time, it seemed.
“Okay, look. Those guys who attacked us in the greenhouse wanted to kidnap you. They were government agents.”
“Why would government agents want to kidnap me?”
“I’m getting to that,” Otto said. He wanted to leave the most incredible bit of information until the last because it was going to be a lot to absorb. “They know you’re something special, that you’re stronger and quicker than the average person.”
Jaxon’s eyes widened. “How did you know that?”
“I kinda sensed it in the gym, but you’re not the only one like that. There’s a whole bunch of you. You all have special powers. Not just strength and speed but stuff that’s almost magical. A scientist who studies you guys told me all about it. The government wants you for some reason. When they couldn’t kidnap you, they tried a more subtle way.”
Jaxon studied him, and realization slowly dawned on her face. “They adopted me?”
Otto nodded. Cute and strong, and she turned out to be a pretty quick thinker.
Jaxon’s jaw dropped. After a moment, she spoke. “It makes sense now. Stephen and Isadore never seemed the type to adopt, and they got me this martial-arts teacher who’s been training me to become some sort of fighter.”
“What are you doing back here?”
Jaxon and Otto turned. The proprietor stood at the end of the aisle, a frown on his face and his hands on his hips.
“Sorry, sir,” Otto said. “I just needed to talk to my girlfriend.”
Jaxon squeezed his hand. Otto smiled at her. That made all the craziness of the past couple of months worth it.
The proprietor gestured angrily toward the door. “Go have your little love chat somewhere else. I have a business to run.”
Otto couldn’t help but notice no other customers in the store. With that guy’s attitude, Otto wasn’t surprised.
“What’s going on out there?” Edward asked.
“We’re waiting for Grunt,” Otto said into his handless mic.
The shopkeeper looked at him like he was a lunatic. Otto waved the wire to show he wasn’t talking to himself. He got a scowl in return.
“Well, where the hell is he?” Edward asked.
“Hold on,” Grunt whispered.
“What?” Otto said.
“Hold on,” Grunt said, his voice barely audible.
The Chinese guy took a step closer. “Look, I’ve had enough of this.”
Otto waved him away. He turned to Jaxon, about to tell her to stay out of sight of the window, when his earpiece erupted with what sounded like gunshots. The proprietor jerked his head towards the entrance, as did Jaxon. Otto pulled the earpiece out and could still hear the shots, cracking one after another in rapid succession in the distance.
“Please tell me that’s fireworks.” Jaxon’s face paled.
“Chinese New Year is months away,” the storeowner said. “Sounds like a robbery or a gang fight. You kids better stay here until the police take care of it.”
Jaxon and Otto both nodded. The guy went up a peg in Otto’s estimation.
Otto stuck the earpiece back in his ear.
“What’
s going on out there?” he demanded.
More shots. The sound of running feet.
Then Grunt’s voice ripped into his eardrum. “Incoming!”
Otto grabbed Jaxon and the storekeeper and threw them down onto the floor along with himself.
The Chinese guy slapped his hands away. “Are you crazy? What’s the matter with you?”
“Stay down!”
The man tried to stand up, and Otto pulled him down again.
“Kid, if you don’t let go, I’ll—”
He cut off midsentence as the door creaked open.
Silence.
The storeowner looked at Otto, pointed toward the door, hidden from view behind the rack of clothing, and mouthed the words, “Who is that?”
Otto shrugged. He didn’t know. All he knew was that it was someone he really, really didn’t want to meet.
Footsteps.
Someone walked down the farthest aisle of the store then turned and walked down the next. Whoever it was walked slowly, deliberately, without pausing but without any hurry.
The footsteps passed on the other side of the rack of martial-arts uniforms. Otto caught a vague glimpse of a figure through a gap in the clothing. He eased his Taser out of his pocket. The storeowner choked back a gasp when he saw it but was smart enough not to say anything. A few more shots rang out in the distance, along with some faint screams.
A woman stepped around the end of the aisle and glared at them. Otto recognized her from a photo Edward had shown him—Isadore Grant, General Meade’s top assassin.
Otto aimed the Taser and fired.
With impossible speed, Isadore ducked to one side, and the twin darts implanted themselves in the back wall. Isadore took three long strides and leapt toward Otto, one foot extended in a kick. He brought up his hands to protect his face, knowing that would only mean postponing his death for a few seconds.
With a blur of motion, Jaxon blocked the kick, making Isadore pirouette in midair.
The assassin landed nimbly on her feet, facing Jaxon. The two stood there for a moment, glaring at each other from only a few inches away.
“What’s going on?” Jaxon demanded.
“These are criminals,” Isadore said. “They’ve come to kidnap you.”
“She’s lying,” Otto cut in. “She’s a government assassin. They hired her to be your foster mother and train you to do their dirty work for them!”
Isadore dismissed his words with an impatient gesture. “That’s ridiculous. A government conspiracy over a sixteen-year-old girl? Don’t be stupid.”
“A sixteen-year-old girl with superhuman powers,” Otto said. “No way a normal kid could be as strong and as fast as she is. She’s probably got other powers too, don’t you Jaxon?”
Jaxon turned and looked at him in amazement. “Why yes, I…” She let her sentence trail off and turned to her foster mother. “You’d have to tell me sooner or later, so what gives?”
Isadore paused for a moment, assessing Jaxon. Finally, she nodded.
“Yes, you are a special girl. We knew about your strength and speed. That’s why we hired Marquis. And we knew you needed to learn how to control it, hence the yoga lessons. But there’s more to it than that. You’re far more powerful than we ever imagined. What you can do with plants is incredible.”
Jaxon’s breath caught. Isadore went on as the crackle of gunfire continued in the background.
“Your potential was wasted in the CPS system. You’d have ended up as a criminal or a suicide case. Many of your kind do. They don’t know how to adjust to normal human society. We’re offering you a home, Jaxon—a chance to live up to your potential. You can rise high, have a good career, wealth, respect, a family.”
Jaxon hesitated, and her features softened for a moment then grew stony. “Who hired you?”
Otto cut in. “General Meade. He’s part of a secret plan to collect people like you”—he almost said “Atlanteans” but decided against it since Jaxon was being asked to take in so much already—“and he’s making his own private army. This isn’t a government project. This is a government within the government, and they plan to overthrow democracy and rule for themselves.”
“Foolish boy.” Isadore sneered. “You have no idea what you’re involved in. You don’t know the dangers facing our planet.”
Our planet? That seemed like an odd choice of words.
Jaxon and Otto slowly backed away. The storeowner had disappeared.
“I think the real danger I’m facing is right in front of me,” Jaxon whispered. “You lied to me. Lied to me about everything.”
“It was necessary,” Isadore said, taking a step forward. “Come with me, and your friend won’t get hurt. He’s an escaped convict, you know.”
“He’s innocent,” Jaxon said, still backing away.
They rounded the end of the aisle. Isadore followed, legs slightly bent, body half turned in a fighting stance. She reminded Otto of a stalking tiger he’d seen on the Discovery Channel once.
“The courts don’t think so, and your sheltering him is a felony. You could go to juvenile detention, maybe even be tried as an adult. Instead of having the world in the palm of your hand, you’d be worse off than when I found you.”
“I don’t trust you,” Jaxon said, tears welling in her eyes. “Why does everyone have to lie to me?”
“He’s the one lying, Jaxon. He’s part of a renegade band of criminals. They want to use you for their crimes. But I’ll let him go. We won’t even mention he was here at all. Stephen and I only want to make sure you’re safe and can develop your potential.”
“What’s that shooting?” Jaxon asked.
The firefight seemed to be dying down, but the occasional shot still crackled in the distance.
“Otto’s gang going on a rampage. The police will get here soon. If you want your friend to stay out of prison, come with me now. I’ll let him go and won’t say a word to the police. You’ll have everything—wealth, a future, a place to belong—and he’ll have his freedom.”
Isadore extended a hand.
Jaxon hesitated. She looked from Otto to her foster mother and back again.
“Perhaps you should go, Otto,” Jaxon whispered.
“No way, I busted out of jail to save you. She’s going to use you as a weapon. She’s the criminal!”
Otto gripped Jaxon’s shoulders, and together they continued to back away toward the door.
“What have I ever done to hurt you, Jaxon?” Isadore said. “I’ve opened up my home to you, offered you a good education. We’ll pay for college and beyond. Just let your friend walk away, and you’ll have a life. That’s what you’ve always wanted, isn’t it? There’s not much time. The police will be here any minute. If they find him here, he’s finished. Come with me, Jaxon.”
Jaxon gave Otto a confused look. He shook his head.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he said. “I’m not letting you go again.”
“Think of your friend, Jaxon. He’ll go to jail for years for this.”
Jaxon turned back to Otto, her shoulders slumped. Her hand reached for his, and their fingers interlocked. “She’s right. There’s no use. Go and save yourself, Otto. If I run away with you, they’ll just hunt me down.”
“No way, I’ll—”
The door burst open, slamming against the back wall and snapping off one of its hinges. Grunt stood panting in the doorway as the door hung crazily on the bottom hinge. His jeans were soaked with blood down one side, and his face was pale and sweaty. His eyes fixed on Isadore and went wide.
“You!” Grunt and Isadore said in unison.
Grunt whipped out a pistol from the hidden holster inside his leather jacket. Otto screamed and threw Jaxon to the floor, landing on top of her to shield her from any bullets.
He didn’t need to bother. Isadore leapt to the bookshelf, grabbed a heavy volume, and threw it with such force and accuracy that it struck Grunt in the wrist and made the gun fly out of his hand.
&nb
sp; “It’s time to finish this!” Isadore roared as she ran up the aisle toward him.
“Damn straight!” Grunt yelled back, reaching for the weapons display in the window and grabbing one of the broad Chinese swords. He whipped it out of its metal scabbard, which he threw at her head.
Isadore tucked into a roll, and the scabbard shot right over her to smash a mirror behind the counter. A squawk from beneath the counter told Otto where the shopkeeper had disappeared to.
Isadore rolled to her feet in front of Grunt but still out of reach of his sword. His face red with rage, the mercenary paced toward her.
“This is for Morocco,” he snarled.
He made a vicious swing at her head that Isadore dodged easily. He swung again and missed again, the blade slicing through a stack of books, sending papers flying.
Isadore blocked his next swing by grabbing his arm and flipping the huge man over her head to bring down the bookshelf with a crash.
Grunt was back on his feet in an instant, his hand still gripping the sword. He lunged, aiming for Isadore’s stomach, but she bent her body, and the blade cut nothing but air. She grabbed his arm again and used her other hand to smack him in the face with her fist. Then, she brought her knee up against his wrist. Grunt bellowed with pain, and the sword clattered to the ground.
Otto looked around, desperate to find a way to help. Jaxon looked just as confused as he was. She must have been going crazy to see a guy who looked like Grunt trying to cut her foster mother in half.
The shopkeeper peeked over the counter.
“Do something!” Otto shouted.
“What, you think all Chinese people are black belts? You racist, I only have this store to put my son through college!”
Shaking his head, Otto looked back at the fight to see Grunt and Isadore rolling on the ground, trading punches. Grunt did not look like he was winning.
