Vigil: Inferno Season (The Cyber Knight Chronicles Book 2)

by Bard Constantine

  Eight Baller sighed, rubbing a gloved hand across his glossy helmet. "Infighting will get us nowhere. You both understand that, right? Our operation is failing, and Diabolis isn't happy. You know what happens when they're not happy. Ask Joe Blow about it."

  Shinigami stiffened. "What happened to him?"

  "He was collected. No one has seen him since. Word out is that Diabolis was upset with Joe Blow's work, so they sent an Agent to deal with him."

  "Who could deal with Joe Blow?"

  "Janus."

  The name hung in the air for a moment. Agent Red gritted his teeth, ashamed of the fear that punched him in the kidneys.

  Eight Baller continued as if unaware of their discomfort. "Janus' skull-faced assistant, anyway. Doesn't matter—Joe's gone. And any of us can be next if we don't sit down and work together. We have a common enemy, someone who has damaged our operations and our reputations."

  Agent Red spat the name through clenched teeth. "Vigil."

  "Precisely. If you will…?" Eight Baller gestured to the chair.

  Agent Red reluctantly sat down, exchanging a wary glance with Shinigami, who appeared shaken by the news about Joe Blow. Agent Red drummed his fingers on the tabletop. "I nearly had him the other night."

  Shinigami lifted her head, haughty once more. "Nearly is just as bad as never in my book."

  "You should know all about never since you never laid eyes on him. I set a trap and almost had him. Next time I'll be better prepared."

  "What trap did you set?"

  "He was putting the squeeze on one of my guys. Low-level operator, just street garbage. Fortunately, he thought to get out of the situation by reporting it to me. When Vigil met up with him, we were waiting."

  "But he got away."

  Agent Red's face burned with embarrassment. "He was better than I thought. Took us out and got away with the rat. My armor barely held up, or I wouldn't be here to talk about it. He's disciplined. Trained in military tactics. If I didn't know any better, I'd peg him for HSSC."

  Eight Baller tapped his fingertips together. "HSSC doesn't take an interest in interfering with criminal enterprises outside of the UH. In fact, they encourage the destabilization because it serves their purposes."

  "Great. So we're just playing into their hands."

  "If you want to be a patriot, start an anti-government militia and fight for your freedom."

  "Yeah, I get it. Getting back to Vigil—"

  Shinigami suddenly stood, slipping her hands into the wide sleeves of her skull-embroidered tunic. "We will do as you have done, Agent Red. Taking the offensive is a prudent tactic, and he is just one man. Take him down, and the movement will die as well. The Vigilant will fade away, and business will return to normal. I will add additional funds to the bounty on his head. If you can set another ambush, contact me and I will lend you a squad of Hellhounds. You will find them an improvement over your … Blood Boyz."

  Lifting her head, she exited the room, followed by her silent bodyguards. They ignored his insulted Blood Boyz, who muttered threats under their breath. Agent Red turned to Eight Baller.

  "Am I going crazy, or did she just agree with me about something?"

  Eight Baller leaned back in his chair. "Consider that progress. At least we can come to a consensus about our common enemy. It's a start. What about your guy that Vigil put the squeeze on? Can you use him again?"

  "Slick's compromised. The only reason to find him is to put a hollow in his skull."

  "Vigil could have left Slick to rot, but you said he saved him."

  "Yeah. So what?"

  "So, that indicates Vigil thinks the guy is useful. Might be worth it to collect him and see where it goes."

  Agent Red slowly nodded. "Yeah, I'll see if I can root him out before someone else gets to him first."

  "You think his life is in danger?"

  Agent Red stood, motioning his crew to the door. "Slick's a rat. Vermin get killed every day in this city, and no one bats an eye. Because no one cares. No one even notices."

  Ⓥ

  Slick emerged from his bunk at the homeless shelter and headed for the liquor store. Eating nothing but shit bricks for the last twelve hours left him with a bad case of constipation, and huddling in the dimly lit, overcrowded sleeping quarters gave him a bad case of the shakes. He had just enough in his account for a cheap pint of Swill Whiskey, which was nearly as bad, but at least it would get him drunk quickly. Anything was better than hiding out in a cramped, overheated bunkroom in hopes that no one was looking to kill him.

  "Slick."

  The voice stopped him cold. Harsh, mechanical. He glanced into the alley, saw a silhouetted figure. He glanced around, but there was no one looking in his direction. The few stragglers were listless drifters, in worse shape than he was. He looked back into the alley, squinting.

  "Vigil?"

  "Come here, Slick."

  He obeyed, wondering why he felt so terrified. Vigil had just recently saved his life. There was no reason to think—

  The figure that stepped from the shadows wasn't Vigil. He wore similar plated combat gear, but that was where the resemblance ended. His armor was fitted like an exoskeleton, and his face was encased by a helmet designed to resemble an intricately detailed skull. The sockets were sightless, dark as endless pits, the teeth clamped into a metallic grin.

  Slick backed away, heart pounding. "You're not—"

  The man shot forward faster than Slick thought possible, a gleaming blur that refocused when he seized Slick by the throat and hoisted, easily holding him up with one hand.

  "I'm not," he said.

  Slick gurgled, fear threatening to suffocate him faster than the steel-shod fingers clamping his throat. He was lowered and dragged deeper into the alley, where shadows embraced them like family. The skull-faced man slammed him against the side of the building so hard that his head rung from the impact. He tasted blood when he bit his tongue, and his vision grew hazy, teetering on unconsciousness.

  A savage slap across the face brought him back to his senses. His attacker wagged a finger.

  "No. Stay conscious for a few more minutes. You have to know the reason why I'm killing you."

  Slick blinked. "Why? I don't understand…"

  He screamed when the man pulled a gleaming spike and slammed it into his shoulder, pinning him to the wall. The metal skull grinned, unfazed by the shriek that echoed off the building walls.

  "You took something from me. And for that, you have to pay the price."

  "What? What did I do?"

  "You killed Vigil."

  Despite the flaring agony in his arm, Slick stared uncomprehendingly. "Vigil? I didn't—" He screamed again when a second spike impaled his other shoulder, leaving him hanging from the wall, body weight tearing at the wounds. All the while, the man in the skull mask stared like a cybernetic angel of death, radiating fiendish delight through every movement.

  "I'm not talking about the imposter who calls himself Vigil now. I'm talking about the real Vigil. Think, idiot. Take your mind back to when you and your cowardly friends chased a girl into an alleyway. It was the first time you saw Vigil, but you didn't know that he was an old man. Fighting you and your friends taxed his weak heart, and when you dropped a building on his head, it failed. He died in that alley because of you and your gang, robbing me of my revenge. You took that away from me."

  Slick gritted his teeth, trying to concentrate beyond the pain. "Not … me. Was Kane that shot the gun."

  The skull's grin was mocking. "I know. Why do you think I killed him? Remember? Shot him right out of the sky while in police custody. Long way to fall. I'm sure his life flashed in front of his eyes at least twice."

  "That … was you?"

  "Of course it was. I killed every one of your buddies who were there in that alley. They all bear some of the blame. That's why they had to die. And that's why you have to die, Slick."

  "You don't have to do this. Please …"

  The man dragged
a trash can over and dumped the contents at Slick's feet. "Your friends begged too. They all do in the end. Begged and pleaded, told me I didn't have to do it. So selfish. Do any of you ever stop to consider what I want?"

  Sick stifled a gasp as his weight continued to pull at the spikes in his shoulders. "What … do you want?"

  The skull tilted to the side. "I want you to scream, Slick. Give me everything you have. Don't hold back anything. After all, it's the last sound you're ever going to hear."

  A device on his gauntlet fired a brilliant stream of flame, igniting the trash. Slick screamed as the heat set his pants on fire, searing his legs. The stench of burning flesh was nearly as terrifying as the agony. He screamed again and again, howls of anguish that went unheard in the abandoned ruins of the Warrens. And all the while, the skull watched, flashing in hellish colors as the metal reflected the sizzling torment.

  Chapter 11: Fianchetto

  Good evening, Neo-Yorkers. You're with Cam Danvers on another NYN Fast Break. This afternoon, an assault by Crimson King gang members was interrupted by the vigilante Heretic, who savagely killed the attackers before vanishing wherever vigilantes go on their downtime. Some underground lair with lots of bats is this reporter's guess. Eyewitness reports describe Heretic as some kind of ninja priest or holy knight. We caught up with Commissioner Miller and asked him about the rise of vigilante activity, and this is what he had to say:

  "It's all the fault of that criminal Vigil, who started these unwarranted attacks on Neo York citizens. He's a terrorist who inspires terrorism, okay? We're assembling a task force to take him down."

  Miller had no comment when asked if police efforts were better directed at the syndicates that Vigil and his associates have been dismantling.

  In other news, a man's body was found in the Warrens, impaled to a wall and burned to death. Although RCE officials admit there is little hope in finding out who was responsible for yet another terrible murder in the worst sector of the city, the investigation is still pending.

  Ⓥ

  Vigil stationed himself under a worn but sturdy gargoyle on the rooftop of the Cathedral Church of St. John the Divine. Or so it had been called in his time, before the Cataclysm. It had been renamed the Supreme Holy Divinity Church, which didn't have as nice a ring to it. The imposing building was much like himself: out of time and place, contrasting sharply with the surrounding buildings so that it nearly appeared sinister with its Byzantine and Gothic peaks and angles.

  The sun had sunk behind the skyline, leaving the sky an angry bruised color, hazy from the steam drifting from the rooftops as air conditioning units worked overtime to bring some relief to sweltering tenants. But Manhaven was a major improvement over the other Districts, reveling in its close proximity to Haven Core. The buildings were clean and straight, majestic reminders of New York's former glory. The streets and air traffic were more organized, the housing and parks dripping with affluence and wealth as though proclaiming Manhaven's claim as the pulsing heartbeat of the city.

  The cathedral grounds were bathed in bluish light radiating from the nearby Haven Core, where the impenetrable shielding soared higher than any point in the city, glowing like a half-submerged moon. Most of central Manhaven was covered by the dome, where the elite class of Denizens resided, soaking in indulgences and ignoring the desperate acts around their protective barrier. Vigil ignored the light, lost in thoughts much darker.

  Incognito buzzed in his ear. "You're not your normal talkative self tonight, Vigil."

  "I found out earlier that Slick was killed. Impaled to a building and burned alive."

  "I heard about the murder. Didn't know it was your guy."

  "That's the thing. I barely knew him. I was just using him for info on the CKs. Still, it shouldn't have happened. I couldn't save him."

  "Some people can't be saved. Part of the job."

  "Yeah, I know. Still stings, though. Especially since I have no idea who's responsible. I was going to cut him loose, let him try to get out the game."

  Incognito was silent for a few moments before finally speaking. "Why do you care about the guy so much?"

  "I don't know. I just don't like it when innocents get caught in the crossfire."

  "A man like Slick isn't innocent, Vigil. Just because he wasn't a heavy hitter didn't mean he didn't do a bunch of other unsavory acts. You should see his rap sheet. The guy wasn't an angel by any means."

  "Doesn't mean he deserved to be burned alive, Incog."

  "Maybe not. But guys like him have a list of people who'd kill him at the drop of a dime. Don't torture yourself over a lost cause. Try to stay focused on the mission."

  "The mission. Right." Vigil shifted his weight and peered over the ledge. "Still no movement. I'm starting to think Paul Onion's info was bogus."

  "No need to get impatient, Vigil. Half of investigation is waiting."

  "Yeah, tell that to my legs. They're starting to cramp up."

  "Should have stretched out before you got there."

  "I would if I had the time."

  "You've been busy, that's for sure."

  "I sense a warning following that observation."

  Incognito sighed. "Just want you to be careful, Vigil. Even someone in peak human condition has limits."

  "I know. But Vigil can't take a night off—especially not when we're on the verge of getting somewhere." He stiffened when movement caught his eye. "Hold on, I got something."

  He focused his audio and visual enhancements on a pair of shadowed men on the steps of the western façade under the multicolored lights of the rose window. One was a stocky, balding man dressed in the extravagant robes of a high-ranking clergy member. The other was tall and wore a long black coat hung from his frame, concealing everything. His features were hidden by a mask with two golden faces—one in the front and the other in the back of his head. The mask in front was fashioned into a grotesque smiling face.

  "The one in robes is Bishop Connor Goodman," Incognito said. "Highest ranking member of this church."

  "And the one in the mask must be Janus." Vigil adjusted the audio settings on his holoband. "I'm recording their conversation now."

  The bishop gestured urgently. "Between the swarm of vigilantes and the raids by the RCE, this business is getting out of hand. Dirty money has a trail that's hard to erase. How long until they start to connect the dots and end up at the door of the church? This must end, Janus."

  Janus' leering mask enhanced the mockery of his tone. "This is only the beginning, Goodman. I've waited a long time for my plans to bear fruit, so we’re not stopping now. The vigilantes are gnats, the RCE mere nuisances. The larger part of our operation will continue, and you will do as you're instructed."

  Bishop Goodman stiffened. "You might own the streets, but I run this church. Best if you don't forget who you're speaking to."

  Janus leaned in close. "I know exactly who I'm talking to. A worm, wriggling in the pus of self-inflicted wounds. What would your parishioners think if they knew the truth of how you've spent your free time, Bishop? What would your superiors do if they discovered you weren't quite as … devout as they imagined?"

  Goodman shrank away from the grinning mask. "I … I'll do what you ask."

  "Of course you will, Bishop. I'd kill you right here if I thought you had a spine. Keep your people on high alert. I don't need to say what will happen if you prove to be the weak link in this venture of ours."

  Turning on his heel, Janus walked away, long coat fluttering behind him. Bishop Goodman stood on the steps for a few moments, fuming in silence before returning to the church.

  Vigil tapped a sequence on his g-span, ejecting a tiny tracker shaped like a firefly. Honing in on Janus' walking figure, he placed a target on the masked man's back. The tracker buzzed away, blinking with golden light as it tailed Janus from a safe distance.

  Vigil tapped his receiver. "Looks like the bishop has a few secrets to hide, Incognito."

  "So I heard. I'll see what I
can find out. We'll use it as leverage. Are you following Janus?"

  Vigil stood, glancing at the shadowed area where Janus had disappeared. "In a way. I want to track his whereabouts and see where the trail leads for now."

  "What? Is that restraint from the ever-impulsive Vigil that I hear?"

  "It's patience. Janus may or not be the leader of Diabolis. I'd have to take Dolos at his word, and there's no way I do that at this point. Right now, Janus is a piece of the puzzle. I want to put the entire picture together. Which reminds me—I have an appointment across town."

  "Late for a date with your lovely police captain, I take it?"

  Inside the helmet, Vigil grinned. "First of all, my dating life is none of your business. Secondly, I said an appointment—not a date. I'll be in touch."

  "Someone's sensitive. Fine, I'll be here doing the heavy lifting. I'll call back when I have something on our naughty bishop."

  Ⓥ

  LeBlanc sat on a barstool in Kermit's Bar, looking as if he spent the day sleeping off a hangover in an alleyway. A cigarette was between his fingers, a bottle of Horse Piss lager upending down his throat. Setting the bottle down, he gave Jett a bleary-eyed glance, scratching the heavy stubble on his chin.

  "You're late."

  "Sorry. It's been a busy night."

  Jett slid onto the next seat, motioning to Kermit, who grunted and slid a bottle in that direction. Everyone in the bar quieted as Lottery winner Olivia Green was interviewed onscreen by a pink-haired announcer in a form-fitting silver dress. When the interview ended, everyone went back to their bottles and drunken conversation.

  LeBlanc winced when the program cut to commercial break. "Another quarter, another loss. I'll never make it to Haven Core at this rate."

  Jett gave him a sympathetic pat on the back. "You'll see your daughter again, LeBlanc."

  "Nothing like well-intentioned lies to boost a man's spirit," LeBlanc said, motioning for another drink. "Anyhow, I did a little digging on the whole memory recycling process like you wanted."