by H. L. Burke
“Apparently the suppressor isn’t enough to keep you in line,” Brink said through gritted teeth. “Shame you’re forcing me to use such barbaric measures.”
Unable to even close his eyes, Aiden tried to sink inward. He clawed for memories, for hope.
Please, God, please, stop it. Stop my heart. I can’t—I can’t—
Another shock of pain rose through him. He longed for the oblivion of the fog, the confusion that stole his humanity but at least muffled his pain.
A scream tore through him, too strong for even the suppressor to keep down.
“Honestly, you did me a small favor.” Brink turned a dial, and the pain subsided.
Aiden lay, staring at the ceiling, panting and trembling. His vision blurred as tears welled from his eyes.
God, why are You making me go through this? I would’ve accepted death, but this? I can’t endure this. Please, can’t You hear me?
Nothing answered, and Aiden’s heart broke. He was truly alone. Even God had abandoned him.
Just let me die. Please.
“The Adjudicator had done his part of the plan—and poorly at that. I don’t need him anymore ... I won’t need you much longer either, but I think I’ll keep you anyway, locked away for as long as your heart beats, and maybe when DOSA has completely fallen, and I’ve tracked down every last sable and either turned them into my slaves or ended their pathetic lives, then, I’ll let you came out of the haze, just long enough to see what became of your world, of the people you loved.” Brink drew closer to Aiden. His voice hissed in Aiden’s ear. “Then maybe, if I’m feeling benevolent that day, then, Aiden Powell, I’ll let you die.”
The shards of Aiden’s heart throbbed painfully. He needed to warn Lucia. He needed her to know what was coming. He tried to reach out, but before he could, Brink hit another button. A sickening energy rose from the base of Aiden’s skull, crashing over him in dizzying waves. The world fogged over again.
As his clarity ebbed away, Aiden gave one last appeal. God, please, no more. Please, no more.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Prism fidgeted as she stood next to Fade, waiting for the Camp Pendleton gateway to power up. The metal arch hummed with tangible energy as the Marines and their DOSA scientist supervisors input coordinates and checked readouts.
Prism hugged herself, squeezing her upper arms.
Should I really be leaving Ruby alone now? Even for this? She’s less than a week old, and I’m already traveling across the continent without her.
She pushed down the guilt. With the instantaneous transportation provided by the gateways, going to DC was a quicker trip than heading to the store for a gallon of milk or extra diapers. Also, Keeper and Yui had promised to babysit, and she couldn’t think of two more responsible guardians. Ruby seemed especially fond of Yui’s cat form.
Fade’s hand slipped to her shoulder. “We need to take this slow,” he murmured. “I’m not even sure Talon believes me about the Adjudicator’s betrayal. He might need more convincing if he’s going to hand over the Mymic device.”
“He said he’d look into it, though,” Prism pointed out. “If there’s proof that the Adjudicator was a traitor, I’m sure he’ll find it. I have faith in him.” She willed herself to believe her own words. Talon may have made mistakes due to trusting the Adjudicator and giving him too long a leash with Brink, but he was still her father’s best friend. With the Adjudicator out of the way, he’d have to understand that she needed to do this—well, that Fade needed to do this.
Dang it, why did I agree to let Fade be the one? It should be me.
The energy increased, and the hum turned to a full on buzzing. The gateway flickered. The other side, a room nearly identical to the one they now stood in, came into view.
“Thanks for the ride,” Prism said to the nearest Marine before she took Fade’s hand and they walked through.
Talon and Shepherd awaited them on the other side of the security checkpoint. Shepherd’s lips were tight, and Talon’s shoulders slumped.
“Fade, Prism.” Shepherd shook each of their hands in turn.
“Did you look at the footage—” Prism began.
Shepherd held up her hand. “Not here. Follow us.”
They walked down the hall to an elevator where Shepherd keyed in a security code. As soon as the doors closed behind them, Shepherd gave Talon a thumbs up.
“Go on, Lucia, though I think I know what you are going to ask,” Talon said.
“Did you review the footage of the hospital attack?” Prism asked.
“Yes, and afterwards I reviewed a lot more.” He massaged his forehead. “We tore Frank Chamberlain’s office apart today. We found a burner phone we believe he was using to contact Brink as well as records of online accounts and fund transfers. We’re still working on finding out where everything went, but based on the amounts and the dates, we’re confident that at least one of the payments went towards hiring Earwig to attack you.”
Fade cursed under his breath, but Prism just nodded.
“Not a big surprise.”
“No, unfortunately with the final piece in place, things are starting to take shape,” Shepherd said, her voice almost unnaturally calm.
The elevator stopped, and the doors opened. They stepped out into a long, empty corridor lined with reinforced doors.
Shepherd led them down this, checking the numbers on the doors occasionally. Her high heels clacked on the tile floors beneath them, echoing in the enclosed space.
“My theory is that the Adjudicator planned a political coup, either by having myself and Talon killed, or simply discredited,” she said as they walked. “In the wake of the banquet attack, he definitely spun it every which way trying to blame the two of us. If the attack had gone as Brink intended, with multiple casualties, it’s likely he would’ve been successful. Also, it makes sense why he wanted Glint rather than you on the committee.”
A chill cut through Prism. “Do you think Glint is in on it?” She glanced at the two remaining committee members. Was that why Glint wasn’t there? Had he resigned? Been arrested?
“No, I personally don’t,” Talon said. “I think the Adjudicator saw him as malleable, but based on his performance since his appointment, he hasn’t done anything that would stir our suspicions. That said, if we had been disgraced or even killed in the first attack, he wouldn’t have been much of a barrier to the Adjudicator taking over and essentially becoming a tyrant over DOSA.”
“Yeah, tyranny would’ve suited him,” Fade said. “The guy was a jackass that way.”
“Not to speak ill of the dead, but yes, he was a definite jackass.” Shepherd frowned.
“With him gone, though, do you think it’s over?” Prism pressed. What would Brink do with his captives if his plans with the Adjudicator had been foiled?
“No way,” Fade broke in. “Brink is a supervillain. I’ve been one. We don’t work for selfless causes. If Brink was helping the Adjudicator, it was for his own motives. I’ll bet you anything he still has plans even without his so-called partner.”
“That is what we’re thinking too,” Shepherd agreed. “We can’t afford to be complacent. If anything, the loss of the Adjudicator might cause Brink to accelerate his timeline.”
“What do you think his goals are, though?” Prism asked.
“My guess? Revenge for what DOSA did to his father, general social destabilization, and humiliation and death for his so-called enemies—which in this case is all of us.” Fade scratched the back of his neck. “Believe me, I know the type.”
“So have you considered my request to let us use the Mymic device in order to reach Aiden?” Prism asked, scurrying to keep up with Shepherd’s brisk pace.
“Let me use it,” Fade mumbled.
Prism lightly punched his arm.
“Yes, that’s why we’re here,” Shepherd said.
They stopped in front of a non-descript door just like every other door on the level. Shepherd put her hand on a black squa
re beneath the knob. A red light glowed through her fingers then something clicked. She opened the door.
Lights flickered on overhead, illuminating rows of shiny black display cases. Some had glass fronts, revealing their interiors. Others were closed.
“While due to its less than desirable side-effects, we felt it inadvisable to use or reproduce the Mymic device, we did hold onto it,” Shepherd explained, leading them down the rows.
Prism stole a few glimpses into the transparent cases. A golden rope lay coiled next to a collection of throwing stars and a shining green ring. A robot dog slept in a case and a bow and arrow set hung on the wall.
“Where do you get all this junk?” Fade asked, picking up a massive hammer from the top of a shelf.
“Put that down!” Shepherd snapped.
Fade shrugged and set it back.
Shepherd tsked him and hurried to a case towards the end of the aisle. She put her hand on another panel, and the front of the case slid open. Shepherd froze.
Prism peered around the older woman. Her heart dropped to her feet. The case was empty.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Prism sat on the floor with her head in her hands as they waited for Shepherd to check the security logs. Fade leaned against the wall near her, glowering down the empty hallway. Her heart felt empty, aching from another hope sucked away.
This was my last chance, my last idea for how I could possibly reach out to Aiden. Dear Lord, please, I can’t give up now. Not after he saved me.
Finally, Shepherd returned, her expression tight.
Fade straightened. “It was the Adjudicator, wasn’t it?”
Shepherd’s face pinched. “According to the logs, he was the last person before me to access this particular evidence locker.”
Prism massaged her aching forehead. “He must’ve known that the Mymic device could help free Aiden. Why else would he go out of his way to remove it from the equation?”
“It’s possible,” Shepherd agreed.
Fade offered Prism his hand, and she slowly stood. Her sable healing factor meant that her stitches and other injuries were mostly healed, but she still didn’t feel like her old self yet. Her movements were a little slower and her body a little stiffer than she would’ve liked.
Talon had gone to the higher levels to file the proper reports over the missing item. He’d said something about maybe tracking it down, seeing if it had been simply misplaced rather than stolen. However, with it confirmed that the Adjudicator had been involved, Prism didn’t think that was likely.
Fade searched her face before turning to Shepherd. “Can we have a minute?”
“Of course.” Shepherd retreated down the hall.
Fade squeezed his wife’s hand. “What do you want to do?”
She tried to clear her mind, find a direction, but every path forward seemed cast in shadow. “I don’t know. Regroup, I guess. Talk to the team. Maybe someone else will have a brilliant idea because I don’t. My brain’s fried.” Her eyes stung, and afraid she’d start crying, she shut them against the harsh overhead lights. “I’m going on less than my ideal amount of sleep and my hormones—I don’t want to sound weak but—”
“You just had a baby—our baby. There’s a reason you’re supposed to be on maternity leave now.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her against his chest. “Why don’t we get home and you take a nap? I’ll tell the team what happened, and also that we need ideas. Between the five of us, we should be able to come up with something, right?”
“Yeah, I guess.” She tried to smile but couldn’t.
What if Brink realized Aiden went against his will by killing the Adjudicator instead of me? What if he does something to hurt him? To change him even more? We’re running out of time, and I don’t even know what to do next.
She gripped Fade’s shirt in her hands and held on for dear life.
At least at home with her team, she’d have people who understood and who she knew she could trust.
“Yeah, let’s get back to HQ.”
No nap, though. I have to push through this. I can’t rest until it’s over—one way or another.
Fingers wrapped around Fade’s, she started towards where Shepherd stood.
“We’d like to take the gateway back to Camp Pendleton,” Prism explained. “There’s nothing for us to do here without the Mymic device, and if we’re going to wait, we’d like to do it at home.”
“Of course.” Shepherd gestured down the hall towards the elevator doors. “Come with me.”
They took the elevator to the floor with the gateway. Before they could check in, however, Shepherd spoke.
“Prism, there’s something I’d like to discuss with you alone, if you would be willing to delay your return trip a short while.”
Prism and Fade exchanged a glance.
“Whatever you want to say to me, you can say in front of Fade,” Prism said.
Fade didn’t speak but gave a slow nod.
“In this case, I’d rather not. You have a right to refuse me the meeting of course.” Shepherd drew herself up to her full height. “I would understand if you are uncomfortable with my conditions, but in this case, I really must insist it is just the two of us and ask for it to not go beyond our discussion.”
Prism bit her bottom lip. It wasn’t as if she needed Fade there. She could handle herself. However, the fact that Shepherd didn’t want Fade there had alarms ringing in Prism’s head. “I don’t mean to be disrespectful, but the committee as a whole hasn’t done much to maintain my faith in them as of late.”
“Which I fully acknowledge.” Shepherd’s gaze dropped to the floor. “Unfortunately, though, the mistakes we’ve made are one of the reasons that I need the utmost secrecy before I read you in on this particular issue. You may not like how the committee has handled this situation with Brink, Prism, but I know you. You have your father’s integrity, and if you tell me that a secret won’t leave the room, I believe it. Your husband on the other hand—” She eyed Fade.
“You’re right. Right now the committee isn’t high in my personal evaluation.” Fade snorted. “I’m not promising you anything, and if I did, I wouldn’t mean it.”
Prism’s hold on his hand tightened. Curiosity gnawed at her. “You just want to talk?”
“Just talk,” Shepherd assured her. “If it leads to other action, then you can bring your husband back in after that point, so long as the secret remains.”
“Does it involve Aiden and Brink?” Prism asked. “Can you at least tell me that much?”
“In an indirect way, yes. Potentially in a more direct way, but—I can’t say more.”
Prism’s gut twisted.
I need to know. If there is anything that could improve my chances of getting to Aiden, I need to be aware of it.
Prism concentrated on Fade. His powers hummed beneath her touch, ready to activate.
He met her eyes then sighed. “You want to hear her out, don’t you?”
“I do.”
“Look,” he dropped his voice a level. “I don’t need to know everything you know or do. I trust you. However, I don’t trust her, and the fact that she doesn’t want me there—”
“I know, I feel the same way, but Fade—I have to chase down every possibility.”
He put a hand on her shoulder. “All right, but remember: my turn. All right?”
In spite of everything, a smile quirked her lips. “Your turn.”
He bent down for a quick kiss. “Should I wait for you at the Camp Pendleton gateway?”
“No, go back to HQ and get the team started on the case. Tell them we need to dig through every potential link between the Adjudicator and Brink, try and figure out where Brink is hiding and how he’s moving his team around.” She brushed her hand across his cheek. “We can’t afford to waste a minute. I’ll get a ride share when I get back.”
He toyed with her hair for a moment before nodding, shooting Shepherd a warning look, and heading towards the g
ateway.
Prism chose not to watch him leave. She crossed her arms over her chest as she addressed Shepherd. “I’m guessing whatever it is, you don’t want to talk about it here.”
“Yes. My office, please.” Shepherd keyed in a code to the elevator control panel.
Prism stared straight ahead as the elevator made its way back up through the building.
If this comes to nothing, and I’ve just wasted more time, I’ll regret it. Dang, Wildfyre was right about time. Twenty years with my father, twenty-four with Aiden ... do I want to risk making my time with Fade and Ruby even shorter than that? How long can I chase the vague hope of saving Aiden if it could cost me everything else?
Even as she thought it, though, her determination steeled. She didn’t want a halfway victory or a satisfactory defeat. She didn’t want to give up and accept what had been dealt to her. Not anymore. She’d had too many forces beyond her control—people who thought they knew what was best for her and those she loved, be it the Adjudicator stealing Aiden’s body for experiments or Talon keeping the truth from her to save her grief—directing her life. No, she wouldn’t stop fighting. Not until she had saved Aiden or knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was lost forever.
They entered a sleekly furnished office a few minutes later. Prism settled into an offered chair and waited as Shepherd took her place behind a massive, cherrywood desk. It sported timeworn carvings of vines and leaves and tarnished brass fixtures that had been allowed to tastefully age—much like Shepherd herself.
Shepherd steepled her fingers beneath her chin. “I was disappointed when you didn’t take the committee position. I’ve felt a little outnumbered since Cosmic went rogue. Superpowers can equalize things, but that doesn’t stop the higher levels of DOSA from being a bit of a boys’ club.”
“I’ve always felt I could do more good on the ground than I could in boardrooms,” Prism replied. “Also, knowing what we now know about the Adjudicator, I think it’s good that you had someone on the outside to hold you accountable. It only took Glint a matter of days to get sucked into the culture of secrets and lies that apparently the committee has been fostering.”
