Red frowns. “I thought Omega destroyed all the tunnels after the Second Reclamation? For security reasons.”
Alex returns and fires up the laptop at the table. “It looks like they got lazy. Either that, or Phaeden deliberately forged the paperwork so that the Third Reclamation could commence ahead of schedule. Maybe he just didn’t want to waste the man power—or the C-4.”
Silver can corroborate that. “Six years ago, when I used the tunnels to bring Alice here, there wasn’t an ounce of C-4 anywhere, even though the demolition date had already been assigned.”
Red’s frown comes back. “Why didn’t you say something? Report it, I mean.”
“She had other things on her mind,” Jax sneers.
“Actually,” Silver defends herself without getting angry, “I didn’t think anything of it. I assumed they were running behind schedule. It wouldn’t have been the first time an Omega department failed to meet a deadline.” She rests her hand on Alex’s shoulder. “Pull up everything you can find on the rebuild of the city.”
Jax flicks the ash from her cigarette onto Dylan’s head. “Those stupid tunnels must snake all through the city.”
Silver agrees. “The Fringe District tunnel goes straight to the Sentinel District, where it branches out. Among other places, it leads straight into the Out District.”
Coming up empty on the laptop, Alex shakes his head. “There’s no data left on the service passage system. It looks like Omega destroyed the records after the order was signed for the demolition.”
“We need a map.” Red sighs.
Jax puts her cigarette out on the table. “How do we find a map for something that doesn’t officially exist?”
Alex looks up from the laptop, an idea blossoming.
“We make our own.”
*************************
Silver drops down into the sewer pipe for the second time, and makes another perfect landing. Jax and Oz drop their heads down over the rim to take a look, Jax squinting into the dark hole.
“Wow.” Oz sniffs the air. “Smells like shit.”
Alex crouches down by the hole with a small device in his hand, holding it up so that Silver can see it. “Be careful with this,” he insists.
Silver holds out her hands to catch it, but he doesn’t throw it down to her.
“Don’t drop it,” he warns her.
“Just throw the damn thing.”
He lets it drop and she catches it with one hand, making Alex wince.
“It’s very expensive, and I only have one, so …”
“Uh-huh. Don’t fuck it up. I got it.”
Under Alex’s guidance, she turns the unit on.
“Just hold it steady,” he fusses.
She does, and a red beam shoots out in all four directions, disappearing into the darkness. “How long does this take?”
“It works kind of like a bat. It sends out a sonar signal and the sonar detects walls, other solid objects, and space. It’ll travel through all the empty air until it has nowhere left to go.”
“And … ?”
“Just hold it still.”
She keeps it steady. A minute passes and the unit beeps twice. She almost moves, but Alex makes her stop.
“Wait.”
They wait. Finally, there’s a third beep and the red beams disappear.
Alex claps his hands together. “Okay, done.”
Silver tosses the unit nonchalantly back up to him. He catches it, but his catch is clumsy.
“Be careful. That’s an expensive piece of equipment,” she mocks him.
She runs at the wall, using it as leverage to jump up and grab the rim of the hole, pulling herself up and out.
*************************
Alex lays a printout of the service passage map flat on the table. It’s a complex mess of red lines, with crosses marked through them at random intervals and intersections. Silver stands by Alex and looks over the map.
“Looks fascinating,” she under-enthuses.
Red runs her fingers over the red lines, raised off the page for her to read them. “This tunnel system is more complex than I thought. It goes way beyond the city walls.”
Oz pokes his head over Red’s shoulder. “What do the crosses mark?”
Red traces her fingers over one. “Blocked passageways, I’d guess. The tunnel system’s been left derelict for all these years without maintenance. It’s probably a death trap.”
Not wanting to feel left out, Jax joins them and squints down at the map. “This means nothing to me. Where’s everything in relation to the city?”
Silver retrieves a second map—a street map—printed onto semi-translucent paper, and lays it over the service passage map. Using the known Fringe District tunnel entrance as a reference point, Silver lines up the two maps precisely.
Immediately, it becomes obvious just how vast the service passage system actually is. It covers all of the Sentinel District and the Out District—anywhere that the Old World subway used to run.
“Anything could be lurking out there,” Alex comments, half to himself.
“I think we know what’s lurking out there.” Silver looks over her shoulder at him. “And so does Phaeden Rist.” She turns to Dylan, who’s lurking in the corner of the room, handcuffed to the radiator.
“Now”—she snaps her fingers at him to get his attention—“we’ve provided the method, you provide the zip code. Where did he take her?”
Dylan does nothing to hide his alarm, his voice squeaking a full octave higher than usual. “Tonight?”
“Why? You have a problem with that?”
Dylan clambers to his feet, his handcuffs clanking against the radiator.
Alex sees him struggling to answer, so he jumps in. “Don’t you think we should wait until morning?”
“She could be dead by morning,” Silver barks.
“Phaeden has no use for her dead, you know that. If he hopes to use her as some sort of bargaining chip, he needs her alive.”
“Alex is right,” Red assures her. “We should hold off until dawn. It’s a long walk from here to the other side, and I’m sure we could all use the rest.”
Alex puts his hand on Silver’s shoulder, drawing her attention back to him. “Not to mention, it’s been less than twenty-four hours. Phaeden takes longer than that to tie his shoes, never mind negotiate the intricate terms of a peace treaty with a hostile combatant. He doesn’t even know how to get to this ghost. If he did, you wouldn’t have been called in to help.”
Silver shrugs Alex’s hand off her shoulder; she doesn’t need to hear any more.
“Fine. We leave at daybreak.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Brief Mistrust
Silver closes the door to her apartment and leans her weary frame against it. Taking a deep breath, she looks around the room. The place is filled with six years of memories: the bed she’s shared with Alice, and the life they’ve lived together.
She heads for the bathroom and splashes water on her face, taking a long look at her exhausted reflection in the mirror before turning on the shower and stripping naked.
Minutes later, shave and a haircut is tapped gently on the front door to Silver’s apartment.
A pause.
Two bits.
Another pause and the door opens, just a smidge.
Alex pokes his head into the room. “Hello? Silver?”
He doesn’t see her, but he can hear the distant sound of running water beyond the open bathroom door. He slips inside the apartment, carrying a tray of snacks and goodies. He places the tray down on the kitchen counter and walks across the room to the bathroom, catching sight of Silver’s reflection in the mirror.
He should turn away, but he doesn’t.
He watches her.
She seems oblivious to his presence at first, but then, suddenly, her eyes lock with his in the mirror’s reflection. She doesn’t seem shocked or self-conscious, so he stays put. When she turns the shower off and steps ou
t, he has a fresh towel ready for her. Meeting her at the edge of the bathtub, he wraps the towel around her dripping, naked body and moves damp hair tenderly away from her face.
“I thought you might be hungry. I brought some snacks.”
Her stomach grumbles.
Cupping her face in his hands, “Come out when you’re ready.”
Leaving her to dry herself off, Alex begins putting together some treats in the kitchen. Searching for a knife to butter some toast, he opens up a drawer and finds something suspiciously familiar.
An Omega hunting knife.
Police Division issue.
As an anti-theft measure, the blade is engraved with the last name of the Agent to whom it was issued.
Kinsella.
A familiar ripple of jealousy courses through him, and he glances in Silver’s direction, considering what trouble it might cause to question her about it. While he’s still undecided, Silver appears in the living room, dressed only in underwear and a tank top.
His mind diverts to other thoughts.
Abandoning the knife, his heart warms at the sight of her. She’s so casual and unguarded.
Rubbing her hair dry with a threadbare towel, Silver approaches the bed, left exactly as it was after Alice was abducted. Not wanting to be reminded, she tosses aside the towel and begins to rearrange the sheets.
As she tidies, her foot catches on something almost completely hidden beneath the bed. Bending to investigate, she retrieves a pair of men’s briefs.
Dylan’s name is written in felt pen on the tag.
She wants to kill him.
Before Alex has a chance to figure out what’s going on, Silver pulls on a pair of jeans, grabs her gun, and darts out of the apartment.
In the communal living area, she finds the rest of the group playing a game of cards at the table. Jax spins an empty beer bottle in front of her while she waits for the other players to make their moves, and the noise of it is gradually eating at Oz’s patience. Dylan’s still tied to the radiator, poking unenthusiastically at some cold toast.
Silver bombs into the room, almost slamming the door completely off its hinges. Jax jumps back in her chair in shock, accidentally losing her balance. Amidst a flurry of playing cards, her chair clunks to the floor, taking her flailing body down with it, and spilling her beer all over her shirt. Oz cracks a laugh before he realizes the seriousness of Silver’s pursuit.
She storms over to Dylan and tears him up from the floor by his shirt. She pulls him away from the radiator and hurls him back down to the floor, the handcuffs pulling tight. The force dislocates his shoulder with a teeth-clenching, hollow ‘pop’.
Dylan cries out in pain, and is met with a blow to the face with the butt of Silver’s gun; a hit so hard it almost knocks him out cold.
Alex flies into the room behind Silver as the rest of the group looks on in dismay. Silver aims her gun, and—although the room believes she intends to shoot Dylan—she shoots at the cuff keeping him held to the radiator.
Before Alex can reach her, she grabs Dylan by his dislocated arm and drags him away, ignoring his squeals of unbearable pain.
The group makes chase.
Silver emerges with Dylan on the upper walkway of the rigging above the theater’s stage. She grabs a length of rope and wraps it around Dylan’s neck, forcing him up against the railing and holding her gun to his head, half choking him.
“You want to tell me what really happened last night?!” Venomous.
Dylan spits some blood, trying hard to speak. “I already told you,” he mumbles.
Silver tightens the rope around his neck. “I think you missed some.”
Dylan clutches at the rope with his good arm, trying to pull some slack. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Silver presses her gun against his head. “If you didn’t want to get on my bad side, you should’ve kept your pencil dick in your pants.”
She takes a step back from him, but keeps her gun aimed at his head. The rest of the group appears on the walkway, Alex leading the way.
“Silver!” He holds out a hand to stop her, but she barely acknowledges him.
He steps closer.
“Look, I don’t know what the fuck you think you’ve been doing for the last six years, but you don’t have to do it anymore.” He takes another step. “Silver, I’m here. I’m right here.” Another step. “El …”
He steps close enough to take the gun from her hand, and she lets him. Tears are welling in her eyes, but she tries to fight them back. Alex tucks her gun into the back of his jeans and places two comforting hands upon her shoulders, keeping her focused on him.
“Whatever kind of companionship you gave to each other, for as much as it meant to you, this is not your life.”
A tear freefalls from Silver’s eye and runs down her cheek.
Alex wipes it away with his thumb, cupping her face in his hands again. “It’s not the boy’s fault.”
Her eyes fixed on Alex, Silver asks Dylan, “How did it happen?”
Before answering her, he pulls the rope from his neck and plonks himself down on the floor, nursing his dislocated shoulder. “No offense, but I couldn’t sleep. You and Alex … and this place echoes like a tomb. I got up to get myself a drink, and there she was.”
“Oh, god …” Silver winces.
Dylan wipes blood from his face with his sleeve. “She was upset. I comforted her, and—”
“You pity fucked.” Silver grimaces. “That’s gross.”
“No.” Dylan shakes his head vehemently. “It wasn’t like that.”
Silver watches his expression closely. “You have feelings for her?”
Dylan responds with a degree of uncertainty, half expecting more violence. “We only just met …”
“You like her, though? And she feels the same?”
Dylan would shrug but he can’t, and the answer is irrelevant anyway. Alex’s arms still around her, Silver wipes her eyes and forces strength back into her voice.
“I’m going to get her back.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Calming the Storm
In the weaponry, Silver packs a hold-all full of ammunitions for a whole range of powerful weapons. Alex enters the room behind her, aware that her fraught emotions are balanced precariously on the edge of two detrimental extremes: internal collapse, like a building wired for demolition, or a path of self-destruction headed straight for war.
The board is set.
White moves E2 to E4.
“Are you sure you’re ready to do this?” he chances.
“What’re my options?” E7 to E5.
Alex approaches the table, placing a hand over hers. That’s F2 to F4—the gambit.
“The morning won’t change anything. I thought we were set on that?”
She stops packing and pulls her hand awayfrom his. “You think I could sleep?” Gambit accepted: E5 to F4.
They share a look, silently weighing each other up. While Alex desperately tries to understand what Silver’s thinking, he calculates his next move with care, but her fuse is too short to wait for his answer. She breaks the look and forces her way past him, knocking against his shoulder.
That sparks a reaction and he spins around, grabbing her by the arm and pulling her back to face him.
G1 to F3.
“Have you given a thought to the consequences?”
Silver wrenches herself free, her anger escalating. “Which ones in particular?” G7 to G5.
“Let’s start with the fact that all of us who are in this with you may soon find ourselves on the receiving end of an Enforcer’s bullet.” H2 to H4.
“You’re quite the pessimist tonight.” G5 to G4—gambit declined.
“Look”—Alex points his finger at her—“you may not seem to give a crap about what happens to the people you drag down with you, but I do.” He points in the direction of upstairs. “Those people were brought into this by you.” He points the finger back to her. �
�Not Phaeden Rist.” F3 to E5.
“I didn’t force them!” Eruption.
The board is flipped off the table.
Pieces are lost.
Alex looms over Silver. “You bribed them. Which, by the way, is gonna be a ridiculously hard debt to wriggle out of now that Phaeden Rist’s played you the way he has. Not to mention, we’re all now officially dead. That’s going to make things rather difficult for us in the future, don’t you think?”
“Don’t worry. Maydevine will see to it that you and Red have your blue status is reinstated after we put an end to all this bullshit.”
“And what about you? And Jax? And Oz?”
Vigorous head shaking. “The deal hasn’t changed.”
“It will, when you blow the Governor’s fucking head off.”
“I didn’t make my deal with Phaeden, and Maydevine has never promised anything he couldn’t deliver.” Defiant.
“You’re planning to assassinate the head of our government, and you think Commissioner Maydevine is going to be able to protect you from the aftermath? Fuck, could we maybe just take a quick step back here and try to remember how this all started in the first place? You were supposed to kill a murderer—not Phaeden Rist.”
“Phaeden Rist is a murderer.”
Alex rolls his eyes. “That’s not the point.”
“Isn’t it?”
“No, trust me, it’s not. Not yet.”
Silver’s frustration leaps up several knots, and the tightness in her chest grows with each verbal tussle. “I thought you were on board with this?”
“Honestly? I was just hoping to buy us enough time for you to cool down and start thinking straight. But now, thanks to you, a scared young boy is upstairs talking gibberish to a sock puppet, ‘cause Red gave him too much Phenobarbital for the pain from the dislocated shoulder you gave him before you scared him half to death.”
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