by R S Penney
Jena closed her eyes, sweat drenching her face. “That's good,” she said, wiping her forehead with the back of her fist. “Have Pedro bring the cruisers around. Let's get these guys back to the station.”
“I've said it before, and I'll say it again.”
Clenching her teeth, Jena winced and let her head hang. “We've been over this,” she said, striding toward the other woman. “I'm not killing them. If even one of these people can tell me what Slade is planning…”
The other woman looked up to study her with a cold expression, her nostrils flaring with every breath. “You let these men live,” she began, “and sooner or later one of them is going to give us trouble.”
“We can handle it.”
“I'm not looking to get a shot in the back.”
Jena crossed her arms, doubling over when a wave of exhaustion hit her. “Then I suggest you pack up your things and go.” Keeping the anger out of her voice required a lot of effort. “If you can't accept my command, then I've got no use for you. I refuse to have this argument every time-”
Aamani heaved out a deep breath, then spun around, turning her back on Jena. She marched back to the tree. “This is a war,” she said, leaning her shoulder against the trunk. “You don't win a war by pulling your punches.”
That was true.
Bleakness take her, under other circumstances, Jena might have made the exact same argument. It galled her to admit it, but part of her irritation came from the fact that Aamani just didn't seem to want to take orders from her. In fact, Jena had the impression that Ms. Patel preferred to be the one giving the orders.
“And what's more,” Aamani went on, “I believe that-”
“Aamani…Not now.”
When she turned around, Jena saw the blue van that Slade's goons had used sitting abandoned half a block up the street, turned so that its front end was pointed toward the houses on the other side of the road. That was part of their strategy; in every engagement she'd had with these half-trained idiots, they'd used their own vehicle as cover. Not a bad strategy, but it did allow her to have Anna, Gabi and several of Pedro's colleagues come around to close the trap on them from behind.
Gabi and Raynar were hauling the body of an unconscious man toward the curb where several of his companions were already stretched out. The boy grunted with the effort, his face contorted in pain. Jena really didn't blame him. When you spent the vast majority of your life in a prison cell, you didn't exactly have a chance to build muscle mass. More to the point, Keepers tended to take their strength for granted.
In her mind's eye, she saw a police cruiser come around the corner behind her and slowly make its way up the street. The suburbs in this part of Flushing were shaped like a grid, and that made it easy to get around. But also easy for her enemies to set up an ambush if they were so inclined.
The cruiser slowed to a crawl, then turned to face the side of the road so that it was parked parallel to the van. This would make it easier for her people to load the bodies of unconscious men into the backseat, and besides, with the van blocking traffic, they would have to turn around and come back the way they came.
Jena would take the van if she could – she made it her policy to take anything her enemies had to offer: weapons, ammunition, vehicles – but she was always worried that Slade might anticipate such a move and leave her a vehicle with a bomb in the back. You just never knew with that man.
Anna strode toward her with a gun in one hand, her eyes downcast, focused on the sidewalk. “We've stripped them of their weapons and armour,” she explained. “Most are out cold, but some are groggy.”
Tilting her head back, Jena shut her eyes. She took a deep breath through her nose. “Good job,” she said in a hoarse voice. “I want them loaded up and on their way in the next five minutes.”
“You think we should try questioning them?”
“You never know what we'll learn.”
Anna crossed her arms, then turned her head so that Jena saw her in profile. The girl wore a frown that could sour milk. “I overheard some of Aamani's protests. For what it's worth, I think you're doing the right thing.”
“You know my lecture about hard choices.”
“I do,” Anna said in tones that suggested she was being cautious to avoid stepping on anyone's toes. “But I also know that in many ways, these men are also Slade's victims. I'm not sure what he did to gain such fanatics, but-”
“Yeah,” Jena muttered. “I still don't like this; we came too far north. We should be fighting Slade's people on our own turf.”
“Weren't you the one who said that he wouldn't expect-”
She cut off when the screech of tires drowned out all other noise.
Jena turned around to see a black van come around the same corner that Pedro's cop car had emerged from mere minutes earlier. This vehicle surged forward as if the driver meant to ram right through the cruiser that was now parked in the middle of the road. It swerved to the right so that its headlights were pointed at the curb. Oh no… Pedro's car was now sandwiched between this van and the other one.
Instantly, her people leaped into action, seeking cover behind the police cruiser, pointing weapons over the hood and the trunk in case they had to lay down suppressing fire. They learn quickly.
Anna rushed over, dropping to her knees among a group of Pedro's police officers, staying low so that her head wouldn't be visible through the cop car's windows. By her emphatic gestures, it was clear that she was already giving orders.
Jena hissed.
Allowing the cops to take part in these engagements had been a reluctant decision, and they were supposed to be confined to a support role. Now they'd be right in the thick of it when the shooting started.
Footsteps on the pavement announced a squadron of Slade's goons exiting their van. Half a moment later, they came around both ends of the vehicle in a flood. At least eight men in black tactical gear. Jena remained out in the open on purpose. Keepers were known for their cockiness, and she wanted to make sure that these idiots were thoroughly intimidated. Anna, on the other hand, was concealed so that if she had to bust out some of her fancier tricks, it would come as a shock to their opponents.
The soldiers lifted their weapons.
“Hold your fire!”
The order came from the other side of the street, and when Jena turned, she saw a man standing on the roof of a two-story house with gray aluminum siding. Tall and well-muscled, he wore a pair of blue jeans and a denim vest that revealed arms as thick as tree trunks. His pale face was marked by a square jaw, his dark hair buzzed to little more than stubble. “We've come a long way to meet this woman; let's not kill her before we have a chance to hear her speak.”
Another figure landed on the roof beside him, this one short, slender and dressed in dark clothing. Her lovely, olive-skinned face was framed by dark brown hair that spilled over her shoulders.
Only one thing would allow those two to get up there with such ease. Bent Gravity. Those two had symbionts.
Craning her neck, Jena squinted at the man. “So you're one of Slade's lieutenants,” she said, nodding to herself. “You know, I figured that he'd at least give you something respectable to wear.”
The man planted fists on his hips and stared down at her with a shit-eating grin on his face. “And you are a Justice Keeper,” he said, shaking his head. “I'm looking forward to ripping you up to see what your guts look like.”
“Well, I've been known to give it up on the first date,” Jena shot back. “But if you want to get intimate, I'm going to have to insist that you at least tell me your name.”
The man chuckled. “Flagg,” he said in a thick southern accent. “This is Valeth. The boss wanted to send one of those creepy-ass ziarogats to deal with you, but I asked him for the pleasure of doing it myself.”
“You want me?”
Jena spun around, turning her back on them. She ran up the nearest lawn and then leaped with a touch of Bent Gravity, rising effortlessly t
o the shingled roof. Getting these two out of here was essential if she wanted her people to survive.
Jena turned, glancing over her shoulder with a great big smile. “Come and get me,” she said, eyebrows rising. “Let's have a chase, you and I.”
Silence lasted for nearly half a minute once Jena led Slade's two lieutenants away from the combat-zone; the men in black tactical gear retreated to take cover behind their van, leaving only one man on either side to point an assault rifle at Anna's people.
Anna bit her lip, then let her head hang, sweat matting red hair to her forehead. “I want everyone to stay down,” she said softly. “If we can talk to them before the shooting starts, we might be able to avoid a confrontation.”
One of the men that Gabi and Raynar had stripped to black pants and matching t-shirt groaned and rolled over to face the curb. Stun rounds were unpredictable; they left some people incapacitated for hours while others recovered quickly. Most people were down for quite a while, but there were exceptions. Every stun round delivered an electric surge that wasn't exactly good for the human heart. Shooting that man in his weakened condition could be fatal.
Gabi was crouched next to her in sweatpants and a dark tank-top, clutching a pistol in both hands. “We need to keep an eye on him,” she hissed, jerking her head toward the fallen man. “If he wakes up-”
“I know.”
Before anyone could protest, Anna thrust her arm out to the side, pointed her gun at the groaning man and fired. A stun-round hit his back and caused his body to spasm. He went limp a moment later.
“That might have killed him,” Gabi said.
“I know. Watch the others.”
Anna rose up to peek through the cop car's window, getting a clear view of the van on the other side. The paramilitary soldiers were still in a holding position, as if they just didn't want to break the cease-fire.
Raynar was crouching behind her with hands on his knees, hunched over to keep his head down. The boy hadn't drawn his pistol, but then that wasn't his primary weapon. “I sense apprehension,” he whispered. “But also a whole lot of anger.”
“You think negotiations are in order?”
“It's worth a shot.”
On her left, Pedro and two of his officers – all of them dressed in plain clothes – checked their weapons. They carried sub-machine guns they had raided from the station's weapons locker. Those would kill, but she wasn't about to complain when Slade's people left them no other options.
“We don't have to do this!” Anna shouted.
The only reply she got was soft laughter from one of Slade's mooks. “Tell me, girl, have you ever seen the face of God?” he asked. “When your Lord gives you an order, you don't disobey Him.”
Anna winced so hard it hurt, then tossed her head about to clear the image from her mind. “Slade isn't a god!” she insisted. “Whatever he showed you, I can promise you it's nothing but holography.”
“Not Slade, girl.”
“What are you talking about?”
Her impulsiveness got the better of her, and she rose up to look through the window once again. Two men had crept around the front of the van and now stood with their rifles pointed at her. Another one was coming around the back.
That one was the ringleader; she could tell by the confidence in his posture, by the way he radiated alertness. In all likelihood, this guy had some actual military experience, where the others were just – what was that word Jack had taught her? - wannabes. “Slade is just the messenger, girl.”
“The messenger of what?”
In response, men on both sides of the van hoisted up their weapons and took aim. Anna ducked down just before a storm of bullets punched through the window, causing glass to rain down on her body. She shook it off.
Gritting her teeth, Anna stared down at the ground and sucked in a hissing breath. “You all know the routine!” she growled. “Take turns popping up; make them work for a target. Raynar, get ready to put on a show.”
Jena leaped.
Propelled by the strength of a Justice Keeper, she sailed over the gap between two houses and landed on the slanted side of a black-shingled roof. The impact was hard. She ran to the peek, then down the other side.
Scrunching up her face with exertion, Jena tossed her head about. “How exactly do I get into these situations?” she hissed, leaping to the next house, groaning as her muscles ached from exertion.
Jena landed on a flat rooftop, somersaulting across its surface. She came up in one fluid motion and ran. It had been like this for all of five minutes. Five minutes that felt so very much like years.
Contact with her symbiont allowed her to perceive the silhouettes of Valeth and Flagg two houses behind her, scrambling across the rooftop like a pair of wolves trying to run down a rabbit.
She had to get them far enough away from the battlefield that going back to finish off Anna and the others wasn't an option. If she could kill one of these two – she had no compunctions about doing in one of Slade's lieutenants – so much the better. It was very likely that Slade only had so many enhanced soldiers to go around. This would be a huge win if she could pull it off.
So, she ran, ignoring the exhaustion, the slight burning in her chest that made her want to sit down for just thirty damn seconds and catch her breath. Even Keepers grew tired after a while, and she was having a lousy week.
Opportunity presented itself mere moments later.
At the end of a line of houses, a red-bricked apartment building rose up a good nine or ten stories. That would do. Amusement made her bark a laugh that sounded more like a wheeze when she realized that she was developing a fondness for fighting in high places. Well…In her defense, a girl liked to have a view.
Jena reached the last house in the line.
She leaped and twisted gravity around herself so that forward was now 'down,' soaring effortlessly over the nearly-empty parking lot behind the apartment building. Her skin began to tingle, but so far, her Nassai was still going strong.
She dropped onto the landing of a fire-escape three stories up, then turned on her heel and scrambled up the metal steps. Her footsteps landed with a rough clank, clank, clank, and she was dimly aware of Flagg and Valeth sailing over the parking lot to chase her.
She ran.
It didn't matter that she was aching, pissed off and desperately wanting to curl up with her nice soft pillow. She climbed to the fourth floor, the fifth, the sixth. A fight like this would earn her a bubble bath.
Jena shut her eyes, sweat rolling over her face in waves. “Come on!” she growled, doubling over as she charged up a flight of steps. “Just a little further.”
At last, she had climbed to the final landing.
Jumping with Keeper strength, Jena grabbed the lip of the roof and pulled herself up. She stood up with a grunt, then dusted off her hands. Yeah…This is the perfect spot for a smack-down.
A flat, rectangular rooftop spread out before her with four sides that overlooked a ten-story drop. The only obstruction of any kind was a small stairwell door on the ledge opposite the one she had just come from. The wind was stronger up here, rushing down from a cloudy sky with just a few cracks of blue in a ceiling of white.
Jena strode to the middle of the rooftop.
She turned around in time to see Flagg poke his head up over the ledge and growl as he pulled himself upward. “You're one feisty little bunny,” he said, getting his feet. “I think I'm gonna enjoy smacking you around some.”
Valeth came up beside him and rose gracefully, her long, dark hair bouncing as she shook her head to clear her mind. The woman said nothing, of course. Jena was starting to think she was the strong, silent type.
Flagg crossed his arms and strode toward her with his head hanging, snarling down at himself. “Stupid, stupid woman,” he said. “What do you think coming here is going to prove? I'm just gonna go back for your people.”
“We'll see.”
“That we will.”
Valeth
joined him a moment later, lifting her chin to appraise Jena. She arched one eyebrow but said nothing. What Jena wouldn't give to learn that one's story. She was sure there would be some interesting plot twists.
They paced the outline of a circle on the rooftop, Valeth and Flagg on one side, Jena on the other. It occurred to Jena that she had only faced an opponent with a Nassai once before, and now she was up against two. In all likelihood, this match was not going to go her way, but she could get a few good shots in.
Jena moved a quarter way around the circle, raising her fists into a fighting stance. Now the stairwell door was on her right. “So,” she said. “Are we gonna do this, or would you rather settle it with a staring contest?”
Flagg replied with a toothy grin, squeezing his eyes shut. He shook his head and barked a laugh. “I like you, woman,” he murmured. “It's always more fun to tame a bitch with spunk.”
Valeth settled in behind him as if she meant to let Flagg take the lead. Cowardice or caution? The former seemed like something that Slade would punish. His people were scum, but he needed scum that would get the job done.
Flagg came at her.
He spun for a hook-kick.
Jena ducked and let the man's foot pass right over her head. She scooted past him, placing herself between him and Valeth. Trapped between both assailants. They would not see that coming.
The woman looked up.
Jena jumped with a high kick, the tip of her shoe striking Valeth's chin with enough force to break the jaw of anyone who didn't carry a symbiont. The woman stumbled back, raising a hand to her cheek.
In her mind's eye, she saw the silhouette of Flagg spin and face her with his arms spread wide. He came up behind her, trying to trap her in a bear hug.
Jena crouched down and flung her elbow into the man's gut, forcing him to double over. She brought her hand up to strike his nose with the back of her fist. Blood sprayed from the wound.
Bending her knees, Jena leaped and back-flipped over the man's head. She brought her fist around while upside-down, striking the back of his skull. The impact made him stagger forward.