LeBlanc looked at his tiny, battered apartment. Everything he owned was right there, all he possessed in the world. Junk. Rags. Nothing. If he walked away from it right then, there would be nothing of value to pick over. It was like the man said: what he valued the most had already been taken from him.
"Do I even get to ask who you are?"
The man's cheeks creased when he smiled. "Abraham Clarke. You can call me Castle, though. Codenames are imperative in this line of work."
"Clarke." LeBlanc blinked. "I know that name. You were the commissioner when I was a kid."
"That's right. I worked with the original Vigil. Guess old habits are hard to break. The difference this time is that I'm off the leash. I learned a lot of lessons back then, things that might just turn things in our favor now. If we're lucky, we'll live to see if I'm right."
"And if not?"
"Then we probably get killed in gruesome and torturous ways. Thing is, I don't have anything better to do. What about you?"
LeBlanc barked a laugh. "I guess not. So tell me something: what can an old cop and an under-average Troubleshooter do that a super-soldier vigilante can't?"
Castle took a drag from the cigar and exhaled a thick cloud of spicy smoke. "Cover all the bases."
"And that means…?"
"It means you ask less questions and get ready to move, LeBlanc. We're maybe a half-step ahead of total disaster. Another one of his allies is in trouble, and he won't be able to save her. That's where we come in. Two pieces on the chessboard, moving in tandem to protect the queen."
LeBlanc raised an eyebrow. "Does this queen have a name?"
"Yes: Veronica Banks."
"The RCE captain that's always on the news?"
"The very same."
"But … she's the law."
"She's one side of the law. Unfortunately, here in Neo York, there's a much darker side. And right now, Captain Ronnie Banks is on a collision course with the antithesis of her equation."
LeBlanc swallowed. "And we're supposed to do exactly what?"
Abe stood from the chair. "What needs doing."
"That's a pretty vague plan."
He gave LeBlanc a wry glance. "If it was easy, someone else would do it. So you in or you're out, Rook?"
"Who the hell is Rook?"
"Your codename. Haven't you been paying attention?"
LeBlanc grinned. "You should have led with me getting my own codename. I'm definitely in."
Ⓥ
Isaac followed on Ronnie's heels like a protective golem, head swiveling as if expecting an attack right there in the precinct. She controlled her breathing, trying to appear calm. Trying not to think that every officer they passed along the way stared at her strangely. All it would take was for someone to question the last-minute changes to the transfer. Or for Bullock to lose his nerve and rat her out in a predicable act of self-preservation. Her shoulders clenched, expecting the sudden shout, the voice over the com telling her to report upstairs at once…
When they made it to the parking deck, Isaac finally spoke in a hushed voice. "You can't do this, Ronnie."
Her holoband flashed when she approached her aerodyne, unlocking the doors, which slid up with a hissing sound. She sat in the pilot's seat, waiting until Isaac entered and the doors sealed them inside before speaking.
"It's already done. Part of the deal."
"You think the Commissioner won't notice that his transfer orders were altered right under his nose? I'm surprised we made it out of the building without being called on it."
"Commissioner Miller isn't here right now, thank goodness. If I'm lucky, he won't get word until at least tomorrow."
"Great. So you get put off getting suspended and possibly fired for a few hours. What a reprieve."
She looked at him, feeling a swell of empathy. "Look, you heard the same thing I did, Isaac."
He stiffened, visibly hurt despite his robotic features. "I heard."
"Styx. The cult we suspected was behind the case we were investigating when—"
"When we were victims of a so-called random attack by low-level thugs. Thugs who worked extra hard to make killing us look like a terrible accident. I was run over by a truck, became a vegetable, and you became a workaholic with a guilty conscience. Isn't that enough?"
"What are you saying—you want to give up?"
"No. I'm saying I want you to give up!" He punctuated his outburst by thumping the dashboard with his fist, crumpling the surface and deploying the airbag with an explosive bang. For a few seconds, he wrestled with the bag before ripping it completely out of the compartment. Lowering his head, he gave Ronnie a sidelong glance.
"Don't laugh."
She covered her mouth with her hand. "I'd never."
"It's not funny."
"I know, Isaac."
"Listen, Ronnie. We've been down this road before. You know exactly where it goes and how it ends."
She shook her head. "Not this time. This time we finish it."
"Don't you understand? There is no end. What we do, our limited actions— it's just a snake that feeds on itself. And if you don't recognize the futility, you're going to be devoured too, Ronnie."
"That's a chance I'm willing to take."
"You shouldn't."
"It's my life, Isaac. What's the point of doing this job if I just turn a blind eye to the rot and disease piling up right in front of me? They took everything from you because we got too close the last time. Well, I'm not going to let them get away with it. And neither should you. We see this through to the end, come what may. Got that, partner?"
He gazed at her for a second, expressionless, neon-blue eyes glowing in the shadows of his face. Finally, he nodded. "To the end. Okay, Ronnie."
She hit the thrusters and guided her vehicle out of the garage, where they joined the streams of air traffic weaving in auto-navigated lanes between the massive buildings and burnt-orange sunlight that painted the city in scorching hues.
Isaac glanced at her. "Where are we going?"
"Alex told me that a Diabolis leader named Janus has plans for tonight that involve Styx. We're going to spoil his evening. She didn't know the exact location, just that it was going down in Brickland. I don't know about you, but I'm tired of Vigil and his people beating us to the punch. So, we do some old-school surveillance and canvassing to get the jump on the guy. This time we're gonna be the first through the doors."
"You plan on going deep into Brickland and making a bust on the leader of Diabolis without backup?"
"I got you, Isaac. You're worth a whole squad by yourself."
He stared at her, saying nothing.
"What?"
"Do I have to remind you of how things went last time we tried something like this?"
Her cheeks heated. "That was different. The whole city was rioting."
"We didn't get taken down by rioters. We got our asses handed to us by professionals. You know—like the ones this Janus guy is guaranteed to have watching his back. I can back up my files to a cloud system and download to another body, but you…"
She winced at the memory. "You know, you just might have a point. I'll make a call."
Chapter 16: Janus
Vigil stood on a building ledge thirty stories up, still as a gargoyle, blending in with his background so that he was barely visible to the naked eye. The sun died behind the buildings, tinting the skyline blood-red but leaving no comfort from the heat that still oppressed the city. Steam wafted from the rooftops, creating hazy smog that limited visibility and darkened the claustrophobic streets. Neon flickered on, streetlamps cast waxen light, and billboards flashed the brightest, advertising to residents that ignored them.
His visor scanned the crowds below, running individuals through gait detection, tattoo and piercing identification, and if possible, facial recognition—nearly impossible with so many faces covered by masks, wide hoods, or head-engulfing holovisors. The residents of Neo York were used to being recorded and took every m
eans possible to conceal themselves or confuse surveillance. Just part of life in the big city.
"Getting bored stiff, yo."
He glanced across the street to the opposite building, where a crouching silhouette was barely visible behind a hotel billboard.
He tapped his com. "This is the job, Spitfire. Eight Baller said Styx is a cult run by Janus, and they're meeting tonight. Stay off the wire and keep your eyes peeled."
"What we looking for?"
"Anything kind of strange activity."
"You mean like your girlfriend about to blow the scene up with her crew?"
"She's not my—" Vigil paused, taking a closer look at a pair that rounded the corner onto the main avenue. One was even taller than Jeff, massive build covered by a hooded jacket out of place in the steamy heat. The other wore a baseball cap over her mane of curly hair, but even baggy street gear and oversized shades couldn't keep him from recognizing Ronnie at first glance. Which made the other Isaac, her robotic partner.
Continuing to scan the street, Vigil counted a half-dozen other cops mixed in the crowd. Undercover but still sticking out by looking like cops: moving too tense, staring too hard. Vigil groaned. "Just what we need right now."
"So, we aborting mission or what?"
"No. We stick to the plan and take action if we get a shot at Janus. And be careful—if RCE is on the ground, then they have snipers above. Watch the rooftops and windows. Don't get shot for lack of caution."
"On it."
It was only by chance that Vigil turned in time to see a silhouetted figure glide between the nearby buildings. A blur, a glint of metallic wings, and Heretic was gone.
Vigil tapped his com. "We have more trouble. Can you fly the Stingray?"
"Viper had me do the VR sims."
"You're about to graduate. Grab it and meet me in the air."
"What? You serious?"
He broke into a run on the narrow building ledge. "Just do it, Spitfire."
Heading in the direction that Heretic disappeared, he leaped across open air. The city streets and crowds milled underneath, never noticing when his boot thrusters fired, propelling him across the avenue and onto the opposite building, where he smashed through the slatted boards and window of an abandoned office. Rolling to his feet in a shower of debris, he ran past the dark, dusty cubicles and crashed through another window, landing on the hood of the Stingray. Spitfire eyed him through the cockpit windshield, a shaky grin on her face.
"Barely got here on time, yo."
"Knew you would. Let's go."
He gestured, and she propelled forward with him still clinging to the shell, magnetic tow activated on his palms and boots. Heretic was barely visible in the distance, soaring silently over a line of armored utility vehicles that slowed down to pull into the parking deck of the Leverich Towers Hotel, a sixteen-story building so massive it took up nearly the entire block. Heretic sailed up to the rooftop, where he vanished.
Vigil glanced at Spitfire. "Circle the area. You're recon and backup. No arguments."
Not waiting for an answer, he leaped off the vehicle, hurtling down as the buildings blurred around him. His boot thrusters activated right before he hit the roof of the opposite building, slowing his fall just enough to avoid injury. Dropping to a crouch, he magnified his viewpoint, focusing on the players emerging from the train of armored cars. He recognized Shinigami from previous surveillance feed. Face concealed by a diabolical samurai helmet, she was also armored similarly, though her armor was modernized with cybernetic enhancements. The crew that surrounded her wore the dog-faced masks of Hellhounds, the Grim Reaper Posse soldiers specializing in military tactics and lethal combat.
A familiar figure followed Shinigami out of the lead vehicle. Tall, imperious, face covered by a golden mask with two faces, the one in front frozen into a hideous smile.
Janus.
Vigil targeted the buildings and activated his sweepers. The pyramid-shaped devices fired from his g-spans and flew to the nearest window, where they'd burrow through and quickly scan the building floor-by-floor. He tapped his com. "You catching this, Incog?"
Incognito buzzed over. "Yes. If Shinigami is with Janus, it means there's something very important inside. My best bet would be a gathering of Styx cult members. The Grim Reaper Posse specializes in protecting assets, so Shinigami's people will move to strategic points of the building and secure it against intrusion. I'd guess you have around five minutes to get inside undetected."
"Got it."
"I'm jacked into surveillance and have drones incoming to help monitor the situation. Speaking of, there's a situation incoming."
"The RCE on the way. Already spotted them earlier."
"In a few minutes, this is going to be a complete disaster, Vigil. You better move."
"Way ahead of you," Vigil said while propelling to the hotel and landing on a ledge midway up the building. A quick glance at his wrist monitor showed the layout as the sweepers scanned the interior. Heat signatures pulsed red as people made their way inside. One dot descended from the top of the building, quickly approaching other markers and clashing before moving to the next.
"Looks like Heretic is taking out every guard on his way down. Saves me the trouble."
Incognito buzzed in his ear. "I'm detecting a ton of movement in one of the banquet halls. Better get there before your overly zealous friend does."
Vigil cut the window out with a laser and pushed, catching it before it hit the floor. Leaping inside, he crept through the empty room. The entire hotel was eerily quiet, hushed as though in anticipation. The luxurious appearance of the room belied its abandonment. There was no point in the building being empty.
Unless it was planned that way.
The realization dawned at the same time the door crashed inward in an explosion of billowing smoke. Shrouded figures entered, fanning rifles with targeting lasers cutting through the haze. Unfurling his cape, Vigil rolled to a corner and crouched as they swept past his concealed form. Dropping the cloak, he rose and fired a repulsor blast at one of the soldiers. As their comrade hit the wall with bone-crunching force, the other three separated and spread out, moving with fluid grace. The dog-faced assailants silently moved to flank him, firing tightly-aimed bursts from their guns, the sounds dampened by suppressors.
Threat detectors automatically activated Vigil's omni-shields, allowing him to deflect the shots. Pivoting, he kicked a rifle from the nearest Hellhound's hands and followed with a punishing blow to the chest that delivered an electric burst that arced over the man's torso. Vigil stumbled when shot in the back, but the armor held up. He rolled to the side, using the first soldier's body for cover as it fell. Another repulsor blast took out the shooter. Without slowing, he rose and caught the last soldier's arm as he lowered his rifle. Wrenching up and twisting, he broke the man's arm with a sharp snap. Vigil grabbed the rife as it fell, hefted it, and slammed the butt into the soldier's helmet, shattering the canine mask. The Hellhound dropped without a sound.
Vigil tapped his com. "You said I had five minutes."
"The math isn't perfect, Vigil. There's activity all over the building. I spot two squads coming up the stairs. The only good news is that Heretic has his hands full as well. Looks like Janus wasn't taking any chances."
"I have to get to him before he bails."
"Don't see how. You're going to have to fight every step of the way."
"Not if I get creative."
Vigil hit the hallway at a full sprint, heading for the elevator. Popping a long blade from his gauntlet, he used it to pry the doors open before leaping down the elevator shaft. His visor cast the walls in red light as he plummeted down. At the last second, his boot thrusters fired, slowing his fall just enough to smash through the top of the elevator and land inside.
He opened the doors to a scene of pure chaos.
Thick smoke smothered the hallway, shrouding the figures that ran by, shouting. He saw the RCE emblem on a pair that passed him without
even noticing. Light flashed in the haze—muzzle flashes from gunfire exchanged between the police and squads of Hellhounds. Most erupted from a banquet hall across the way. Vigil headed toward it, visor compensating by switching to thermal imaging.
An explosion rocked the hallway, nearly knocking him off his feet. He stumbled, pushing against the wall for support. A Hellhound ran past, coat burning, arms flailing, screaming as he rounded the corner.
Vigil kicked the banquet hall doors open. Bodies swarmed the vicinity—running, shouting, shooting, fighting. The RCE officers were badly outnumbered, many already dead on the floor. The sheer number of GRP soldiers nearly had the last unit of officers overwhelmed, but they had to split their attention on Heretic, who flowed in their midst like an angel of Death. The scarlet-armored priest cut through them with twin swords that blazed like sunlight, slicing through armor and flesh with lethal ease.
Vigil plunged into the battle, firing repulsor blasts at the GRP soldiers in his vicinity. As the bodies flew backward, he pressed his attack, trying to get to the RCE unit who formed a circle in the center of the room. One of them was oversized, metallic skin glinting in the dim light. Had to be Isaac—which meant Ronnie was nearby. She had to be.
An ion grenade detonated, fanning crackling static across the room. Vigil's visor winked out, plunging him in darkness for a few frantic seconds. He was seized by multiple arms, shot at close range, punched and kicked. Something sharp jabbed above his elbow at the joint of his armor. With his auto-cooling system deactivated, his armor swamped him with heat, breaking his pores out with sweat. His breathing was harsh in his ears, his vision limited by the manual view from his visor. Shuffling bodies blocked his view, more Hellhounds leaping to aid their comrades. Grunts and curses rang out around him as his assailants tried to bring him down.
He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Expanded his senses like Marcus taught him so long ago.
His arm shot out, striking an attacker in the throat. Planting his feet, he twisted, flung another over his shoulder, and stomped on his ribcage. Something crunched. An elbow to the temple knocked the third assailant back a few steps. Vigil followed by seizing the man's hand, breaking the wrist with a sharp twist, then two hard blows the solar plexus before a vicious kick to the side of the knee, buckling it. Whirling back to the first soldier, he slammed a knee into the man's groin and finished him with an elbow to the jaw, shattering the bone.
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