by S. L. Eaves
“That’s why I’m sending in a couple men to discretely shut things down before we shift to the next phase of the plan. I’d prefer to clean up all my tracks before making our presence known.”
“Seems like you’re managing to stay one step ahead; nothing Crina can’t handle. How about Xan?”
“He’s here. He’s working with my ballistics team. He’s a quick study; figure he’ll be more of an asset behind the lines.”
“That has often been the case. He’s great with weapons, so I send him into the field a lot, but he hates actually using them on living targets.”
“A vampire without a taste for blood. Your kind has a greater capacity for empathy than I realized. I have much to learn…” Brixton places her heels up on the bed, flexing her calves as she leans back in the small wooden chair.
Marcus gives an amused laugh and pretends not to notice her skin-tight pants, her foot rubbing his leg.
“Do you think Lori knows about EVO?” Brixton continues.
“EVO?”
“My lab down in San Francisco.”
Marcus thinks about Vega setting up shop in San Francisco. Vega did not pick San Francisco by accident. And if he knows about EVO then so does Lori. He masks this revelation with a reassuring smile.
“Doubt it. Unless DIA does, that could be another story.”
“My man inside doesn’t think so.”
“Should be able to get your scientist friend out then.” Marcus hands her back the tablet. “Though I suppose if she does surface there, it will make Crina’s job easier.”
Brixton nods. “That is the sort of silver lining I can live with.”
Chapter 22
The soggy earth squishes under my boots as I wander along the edge of a graveyard. Naked dogwood trees drip water from outstretched limbs, exposed and vulnerable under the faint silver glimmer of moonlight as it fights through the haze of clouds overhead. I search the sky expecting to see a bat or a raven circling overhead, to round out the imagery if nothing else. A breeze offers me a couple of dead leaves instead. I wander aimlessly, stopping to admire the occasional raised tombstone or crypt.
I know I’ve never been here before, but I know what I’ll find here—besides the obvious—and I know where I’ll find it. But I’m in no hurry to get there.
When I arrive at a row of headstones I can no longer delay the inevitable. My stride quickens as I reach the first headstone I recognize. I’m unable to read the name etched across the stone’s surface, but I know who is lying at its base. Because this dream is no different than the others, I must ride it out in hopes that Catch will appear. When he does, it is never to deliver good news, but I don’t care. I need to see him, to look into his brooding eyes again. It’s been too long. I will do anything for just a fleeting glimpse.
A row of gravesites with fresh headstones lies before me. Each one representing someone I’ve killed. I know I should feel remorse or regret, but I stare through them with dead eyes. I’m not here for them. There is only one part of my past that can still haunt me, and it’s him I’m here for.
My pace quickens under the weight of my sins.
I reach an empty grave and stop in my tracks. I stare at the roots protruding from the displaced soil. The dirt is damp and crawling with worms. The rectangular opening is cut with machine-like precision. Six feet down, I expect. I can’t tell whose grave this is; the headstone is blank. I stand dumbfounded. He drew me here. Where is his grave? Then more empty graves begin to materialize and extend across the cemetery.
I feel him behind me and spin around.
Catch stands looking exactly as I remembered him. I reach to sweep hair from his eyes, but stop myself, afraid I’ll destroy the illusion.
“Please tell me these graves are for Brixton and her mercenaries.”
“You can’t take away the graves, but you can change who rests in them,” he whispers, his lips barely moving.
“Are you resting, Catch? Why can’t I find your headstone?”
No response. His eyes drill into mine, but his expression remains stoic.
“I’m sorry about Marcus, Catch…You know I didn’t want this.”
He nods ever so slightly. “His betrayal will not go unanswered.”
“Can you see him now? Do you know what he’s plotting?”
“Destruction.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Save them.”
“How? Look at all these graves; I’m poison. The clan doesn’t trust me.”
He shakes his head. “You must make them see.”
I jolt awake gasping for breath I don’t need. Catch’s voice rings hot in my ears as I sit in a cold sweat. I close my eyes, but his image is no longer there. Catch, the British boxer with the steel face and kind eyes, now only appears to me as I last saw him, his face twisted in agony and despair. I want to see him happy. I remember the way the faint scar across his jaw line would move when he smiled. It rips me apart to know I won’t ever see him smile again.
Why wasn’t his grave there? Deep down he knows I’m responsible for his demise, at least partially. Things would be so different if he’d just let me fall off that building. He’d still be here. The clan would not be divided and Catch would keep them away from Brixton. He would expose Marcus or at the very least keep him in check. He would know what to do and have the courage to do it. He would lead them honorably. I cannot envision a scenario where Catch perceives the same advantages to an alliance with Trion that Marcus does.
He would not want Trion’s technology even if it did make him stronger. Power wasn’t a motivator. He cared nothing for elaborate weapons and magic tricks. I laugh when I think of Catch running around with the black box, sneaking up on werewolves. I think about us using it to hunt wolves and joking about it afterwards. That’s the Catch I knew. The apparition I saw just now, he’s foreign to me, and he terrifies me.
Quinn bursts in. “Oh good, you’re awake.”
She smacks my leg with the DIA’s file. I’m sitting on the couch looking disoriented. Quinn and Dade insisted I was safer staying with them at Vega’s house rather than at the hotel. They have a point. Marcus, the devoted chess player, will either wait for the right play to materialize or force my hand using Brixton and her mercenaries. And strength in numbers wouldn’t hurt in that scenario. They want to protect me and I’d be foolish to turn down their help. Though as I rub the last aura of the graveyard from my eyes, Quinn has me rethinking this logic.
“Get moving; we need to prep.” Quinn is standing over the couch, dressed for battle. Which isn’t much different than how she always dresses. She always looks as though she’s ready for a rave at any second, should one pop up. Perhaps, by her reasoning, the loud neon clothes warn the wolves she’s coming, gives them a fighting chance. That tends to be her mentality. She prefers a lively battle to a stealthy kill. I get it, but I still prefer the subtle approach.
“You know there’s like five empty bedrooms here,” she smiles down at me.
“I must’ve nodded off; didn’t think I would,” I say, stretching and reaching for the file.
“You must feel safe with us after all.” She points at the folder. “That file is alarming.”
“You read it?”
“I did. Half the scientists working at EVO have ties to terrorist groups. How’d they even get into this country? They aren’t all being forced to work against their will. They cash paychecks.”
“Organizations currently under investigation for criminal activity, not known terrorists groups. Necessarily.”
“Whatever. The UAE private equity firm that funds EVO also funds Trion. Your government friends were holding on to a puzzle piece we can leverage.”
I nod. “That’s a connection that can’t be overlooked.”
“Couple that with the wolf they set free in London and vamps disappearing…Is it wrong to say I miss Striden?”
“Don’t even joke…”
“We need to get inside.”
“Agreed. Anything they’re working on is for Trion. I guarantee it.”
“And some of these scientists…if we can get their side of things, learn what she has them doing, it would be huge.”
Or just the intel on their projects. I recall trying to safely extract the doctors on my first mission with the DIA and how they reacted. Evacuating them was easy, given that they were so busy running from me they didn’t seem to care about the group of mercenaries planning a snag-and-bag operation.
“The human element may prove more difficult than it’s worth, but if we can go in and access their data, we can bypass them altogether.”
“Good point. We don’t expect to find any working at night anyways,” Quinn shrugs.
Dade enters; he looks disappointed.
“What’s up?” Quinn turns.
“Just got off the phone with Jiro. He’s under orders from Marcus. He won’t help us.”
“Damn,” Quinn sighs, “we need eyes inside that building. Without his help, we’re going in blind.”
Without Jiro we didn’t have anyone to hack the camera feeds or to disable the security system; basically, no safety net.
“Screw it then, I’m just going to break in. It’s basically an empty lab at night; I’ll go in and see what data I can retrieve. Worst-case scenario, it gets the attention of local PD, which will eventually get word to Trion. Rex said they could use a diversion, so what the hell.”
Quinn nods approvingly. “And we go clear out the wolf den after?”
“Yeah, neither job will take all night.” Dade smiles enthusiastically. I think he was really getting bored over in England.
“No, you guys go after the wolves now. I’ll go solo. It’ll be easier to slip in and out undetected. Ideally I’d like to learn more about what they’re up to before tearing through the place just to piss off Trion.”
“You sure? If she has men waiting for you, you’re walking right into a trap.”
“I’ll be careful.”
Dade and Quinn exchange glances. Dade shrugs.
“Fine then,” Quinn concedes, “but shouldn’t take us long. This’ll be like shooting fish in a barrel. We’ll meet you at EVO after. Have your phone on you.”
“You want, we can bring ya a wolf or two to tear up the place,” Dade smirks. “Ya know, when you’re done playing sleuth.”
Quinn picks my phone off the charger on the table and programs her number in.
“Oh, and you should call Rex; he may be able to help. He’s pretty handy with a computer and he’s been to the facility. He’s no Jiro, but then no one is.”
“Yeah, okay,” I consent.
Quinn turns to Dade. “Come on, let’s go make some trouble.”
Rex picks up on the third ring.
“Lori?” asks the familiar gruff voice.
“Hey, how are things in penguin country?”
“Bleak. We’re in Fairbanks, but no sign of Javier.”
“Damn, sorry. You think he made it to Trion already?”
“Nah, at least I hope not. The blood we left at the suite is untouched. Hard to believe he wouldn’t have at least made a pit stop. Malik and Vega went to survey the compound. I’m hanging here in case he shows.”
“That mean you have time to do me a favor?” I try to sound flirtatious, but it comes across more creepy than sultry.
“What do you have in mind?”
“EVO. I’ve made the mistake of running into a lab blind before. It didn’t end well. Wanted to see if you could get me eyes inside, just to make sure it’s clear.”
“Did Quinn give you the impression I’m some sort of hacker? She may have oversold.”
I laugh, “I’m sure you got something up your sleeve. How about blueprints? Alarm passcodes? Anything that would give me the upper hand will be much appreciated.”
“I’ll see what I can find.”
“Great. Thanks. Sun just set here, so I’m heading over; I’ll check in when I reach the lab.”
Chapter 23
The more I think about EVO, the more anxious I am to get inside and see what’s going on in there. I’m reminded of Striden’s pharmaceutical company and the hallway of human lab rats.
We went up against him and his brother, Deacon, when they were threatening to turn the human population into werewolves. And that didn’t sit well with us. Werewolf blood won’t sustain us, so the idea of losing our food supply to a bunch of mongrels was strong motivation. While it was only one of many reasons we needed to stop them, the thirst always takes precedent. It’s a sad fact of our kind.
This time around, the lab in question seems to be targeting our kind rather than humans. And werewolves.
Does no one experiment on mice anymore?
How any vampires can consider aligning with these humans is beyond me. I need to make them see that they want nothing but pain and suffering for our kind. Proof of what’s really going on inside her labs.
Of course, if I’m right, that means they are in grave danger. They voluntarily walked into the lion’s den. Javier won’t be the only one who needs saving from himself.
“Hey Rex, can you hear me?” The cheap flip phone hisses with static.
“Loud and clear,” Rex’s voice crackles through. Wish I could say the same.
“I just got done talking with Quinn. They located the church in Oakland. How are things on your end?” he asks.
“I’m across the street from EVO. You neglected to mention the size of this place. It’s huge for a genetics lab. This has to be at fourteen stories.”
“It’s a commercial building. They only occupy the top three floors.”
“Ah, okay.”
“Sorry, thought you knew.”
I can’t think of an easy way to get to the roof, as it is easily the tallest building in the vicinity. I’m perched on a fire escape of the building across the street, which is the next closest in height. Then I remember Xan’s rappelling gun. I still have it, and if I can find an inconspicuous angle, I can put it to good use.
“Any suggestions on how to enter?”
“They use keycards to get in. I can probably kill the power long enough to get you inside alarm-free, but I’m not having any luck accessing their blueprints. You got any government friends that owe you favors?”
I watch through Dade’s thermal scope as a security guard in a white shirt and navy slacks steps out the front entrance and lights up a cigarette.
“More like the other way around, I’m afraid. You kill the power, I won’t be able to get into their computers.”
“It would be temporary—I can get into the city’s system, cause a blackout on the block, then reboot. Whole process would take about five minutes.”
“That’ll work then.”
I scan the windows on the top floors. I can make out a figure sitting at a desk on the second of the EVO-operated floors. Several of the rooms have lights on, but I can’t discern any additional staff.
“There are a few lights on inside. At least one person at EVO and a security guard downstairs. I think I’ll go in through the roof.”
Just then I hear a muffled pop and swing the scope down to street level, scanning the perimeter in the direction of the sound. I spot a gun equipped with a silencer disappear into the jacket of the assailant. Two figures are standing over a body stretched out on the sidewalk.
Well, that escalated quickly.
I watch as the two figures enter the building hurriedly, one holding the door while the other drags the body inside.
“Rex!” My voice comes out a panicked whisper.
“Yeah?”
“We’ve got company. Two men in black just took out the guard and walked in the front door.”
“Shit. It’s gotta be Brixton’s men, right?”
“Either that or she’s got more enemies than we realized.” I pocket the scope. And check that my gun has a full clip.
“Why would they attack their own facility?”
“Shit. Only one reason I can think of. They
’re covering their tracks before we find out what they’re up to. That’s got to be it. Stand by; I’m going in after them.”
“Hey Lori, how funny would it be if these guys are just petty thieves with bad timing?”
“Funny for us, not so much for them.”
“Seriously though, be careful. I’m sure they know about you. Could be setting up a trap.”
“Well then I’m taking the bait.”
He sighs, resisting the urge to protest further. “I’ll alert Quinn and Dade.”
“Thanks.”
I tuck the phone in my pocket, vault off the fire escape, and take off across the street, gun in hand.
The building’s lobby is quiet. I smell blood and go to the desk that stands before two elevator banks. The guard is shoved under it, slumped over; blood from the hole in his chest pools around his legs.
I move to the elevator, each floor lighting up as it ascends. It stops at twelve. I check the directory as I push the up button to confirm that these men are indeed with Brixton. An elevator opens its doors graciously, inviting me inside.
When the elevator reaches its destination I’m half expecting to be greeted by gunfire. Instead I’m met with silence. I peer around the doorway to find the lobby and adjacent hallway empty. It occurs to me that these men might be here for other reasons. What if they’re DIA? It’s entirely possible that Abrams didn’t trust me enough to go it alone, that he sent men of his own in. But I think he was telling the truth about lack of support. Whoever they are, they aren’t innocent and I’m not here to make friends.
I stand motionless in the lobby, trying to decide the best approach. The centerpiece of the richly appointed entryway is a sign with the letters “EVO” etched in a glass fountain; water trickles down the letters and into a small rectangular base. Classy.
Slowly, I inch down the hall, listening for a sign, any indication of their location. I can’t sense anything. Electric humming of machines gets louder as I make my way past the various offices. Nothing on this floor denotes experiments, illegal or otherwise, at least not until I reach the source of the humming.