Door’s shut. There was panic in the bat’s words.
Mace risked taking his eyes off his opponent long enough to glance behind him. The door was a few steps away. He spun, kicking the Freedom fighter, sending him backward and buying precious seconds. He lunged at the door and threw it open—the few scant inches needed to let the bat slip through before it slammed shut.
Before he could turn back, a blow landed between his shoulders, taking him to his knees. With a roar of blind rage, Mace sprang to his feet and launched himself at his opponent. The bat would watch Keiko, which meant Mace had a way to track her—after he dealt with this guy.
Behind the giant, the dazed man Mace had thrown staggered to the elevator and disappeared. Guess there was no honor among terrorists, because mountain man’s backup had fled.
“You don’t want to do this,” Mace told his opponent. “You’ll regret it.”
The guy smirked. “I’m undefeated.”
“Really? So am I.” He eyed the guy. He had an inch or two on Mace and definitely more muscle. But he wouldn’t have Mace’s speed. It was a gift that came from his freaky other half. One that allowed him to read air currents and anticipate movements almost before they happened.
“I’m Rock,” the guy said. “It’s only right you should know the name of your executioner.”
He had to be kidding. Mace barked out a laugh, throwing his opponent for a second. “Hate to tell you, bud, but that name is already taken.” Well, it had been, a lifetime ago. And the original Rock would have eaten this guy alive.
The mountain opened his mouth to argue, but Mace was done talking. He plowed his fist into the Freedom fighter’s jaw. The blow made them both shudder. Rock shook his head, narrowed his eyes, let out a war cry, and threw himself at Mace.
…
Keiko tore down the stairs to the basement level, the air ripped from her lungs in desperate gasps. She’d left Mace to fight that monster. She shouldn’t have left him alone. Mace was huge, but that guy was something else. He was what happened when good sense was replaced by muscle enhancers. Her steps faltered. She could help. All she needed was a gun. She could fire at the monster. She could help.
She spun on her heels and ran back up the stairs, just as the door above her crashed open.
“Mace?” she called.
No reply.
They’d found her. The door slammed shut, locking her in the stairwell with whoever was chasing her. There was no time to see how many people were after her. She turned and ran. She had to hide, to wait for Mace. He’d come for her. She knew he would. And if he didn’t, she’d damn well hunt him down.
Footsteps gained on her, and she risked a glance behind her. Too close. The man was mere steps above her, running fast. He held a gun in his hand, and his face was a mask of menace and determination. Jumping the last few steps, he wrapped an arm around her, lifting her from her feet.
Not again! She was so completely over men picking her up and running away with her.
“Put me down.” She swung her elbow and felt the satisfying smack when it hit his face.
“Stop it, bitch, or I’ll knock you out.”
“Don’t. Call. Me. Bitch.” She bit his arm until she tasted blood.
“Fuck,” he roared.
But the bite did the trick. He dropped her, and she ran, scrambling up the stairs, back to Mace. Why hadn’t she picked up a weapon? A gun would have been great right about now. She heard him on the steps behind her and turned, kicking out. The blow glanced off him, but she didn’t let that stop her. She kicked again, catching him in the stomach. He let out a groan, lost his balance, and fell back down the stairs.
Kung fu. Karate. Krav Maga. She was signing up for all of it—if she lived.
A hand grabbed her ankle. She fell, and then she was being pulled down the stairs, bumping over them. Pain shot through her head as it hit the edge of a step.
“What the hell are you doing?” someone shouted.
The grip on her ankle released, and Keiko groaned. She felt like her body had been put through a grinder. Fighting to sit up, she watched another man push her attacker away from her.
“We need her in one piece,” the new man shouted. “Are you trying to kill her?”
“The bitch took a chunk out of my arm.”
The new man shook his head in disgust and walked over to crouch in front of Keiko. “Are you okay?”
Was he serious? “No.”
He let out a sigh. “I apologize for my fellow Freedom fighter, but you’re needed on the terrace.”
“Well, I’ll just hurry on up there, then.” She winced when she moved and wondered if the whole of her back had turned into one long bruise.
His smile turned cold. “Yes, I’m afraid you’ll have to. You have a date with a camera, you see. You like being in front of a camera, don’t you, Ms. Sato? You like the attention. And the least we can do is provide that for you.”
This game was becoming tiring. She wanted it to end. “Why are you doing this? Enforcement is going to storm this building, and all of you will die. And for what?”
“I’m dead anyway, Ms. Sato. I died the day CommTECH decided everyone in their accounting division had to be implanted with active recorders.”
She stilled, her fingers feeling the back of her head to see if she was bleeding. “That’s illegal.”
“You really are as ignorant as you seem on the news. CommTECH runs the country—they make the laws and do exactly as they wish. It doesn’t matter whether or not something is illegal. They wanted to plant a chip in my brain that would turn my life into a live feed for security to watch in detail. They would have seen me bathe, seen me use the toilet, seen me make love to my wife. And there wasn’t anything anyone could have done to stop it.”
It didn’t make any sense. “Active recorders are only used on heavily monitored criminals.”
“No, my dear, they’re used on anyone CommTECH wants to use them on.” He stood and held a hand out to her. “Please, come with me. Otherwise, I’m afraid I’ll have to let my less-civilized colleague take care of getting you to the terrace. And I can’t guarantee that you’ll make it there in one piece.”
Keiko cast a glance back up the stairs, but there was no sight of Mace. Time had run out. She couldn’t fight off these two men, and she couldn’t wait for Mace. Please let him be okay.
“Ms. Sato, we need to go.”
For some reason, she found his genteel manner even more offensive than the brutish behavior of his fellow Freedom fighter. His civility made her stomach curl, because he was politely inviting her to walk to her execution.
She gritted her teeth and stood, feeling each bruise on her body as she did so. The man put his hand on the small of her back as he walked her to the elevator. It was a courteous gesture, at odds with her walk to the gallows.
“Stay here,” he told her attacker. “Back up Rock. Make sure the reporter is dealt with.”
Keiko felt the blood drain from her face at his orders, making her stumble over her feet. The man who’d attacked her glared in her direction but did as he was told. Meanwhile, the polite man ushered her into the elevator and programmed the panel with their destination—the terrace and Freedom.
“Did you run to Freedom when you were told you’d have an active recorder implanted?” She shouldn’t have cared, but she wanted to know. To understand.
He arched his eyebrows at her, surprised by her question. “My wife left me. She didn’t trust me when I told her that I’d refused the implant. A week later, I was fired. Two days later, I lost my CommTECH-assigned housing. Tell me, Ms. Sato, to whom should I have run if not to Freedom?”
He didn’t need to say all of his other options had disappeared once CommTECH had wiped their hands of him. No one would employ someone CommTECH fired. If they did, they risked the wrath of the company. Which meant that once CommTECH ruined an employee, they stayed ruined. Keiko had always thought it was a security matter. To ensure the fired employee had to find wo
rk in a different sector, to prevent them sharing the knowledge and skills they’d gained at CommTECH. Now she realized it was just one more thing she’d been deluded about.
“I’m sorry about what happened to you,” she said softly. “No one should have to deal with that.”
He stared at her for a long moment. “I do believe you mean that,” he said at last.
As she watched the elevator draw closer to their destination, her stomach clenched tighter. Was Mace still alive? Did he need her?
Oh God, please, help him. Don’t let him die.
It was the first prayer she’d said since, as a child, she’d decided there was no room for God in the modern age. Please, she begged again. Hoping that God hadn’t decided there was no room for Keiko and Mace in the modern age. I’m sorry. I’ll believe from now on. And she meant every word.
The elevator doors slid slowly open, and the cool air from the terrace rushed over her. She stared at the mass of reporters, crouched and fearful in front of the platform. On the dais, Rueben Granger knelt with his hands bound behind him as he wailed and begged for mercy from anyone who would listen. Bodies of his colleagues lay beside him—a constant reminder of his fate. Keiko searched for Abigail among them, but someone stepped in front of her, blocking her view.
It didn’t stop her from seeing all the other deaths around her. Part of her feared she’d break down again, the way she’d done in the security hub. But it didn’t happen. Mainly, she felt a deep, aching sadness. What a waste. Whatever Freedom was demanding from CommTECH, it wasn’t going to get it. Didn’t they see Enforcement gathering outside the building? Didn’t they realize their time was running out? Wasn’t it clear that this was a pointless exercise?
“Ms. Sato,” a woman said as she came up to stand in front of them. Her eyes were alight with malice. “It’s lovely of you to join us. Do come in.” She stepped to the side and swept her arm out in a gesture that indicated Keiko should precede her.
Nervously, Keiko walked forward, all the while scanning for a glimpse of her friend. At the same time dreading that she would see Abigail like that, discarded for the entertainment of a crazed terrorist and news viewers around the world.
The whole situation made her feel nauseous.
“Yes,” Rueben Granger shouted when he spotted her. “Take her. She’s far more valuable. You don’t need me now that you have the press secretary.”
There was a splat and then a wail of outrage. A small bird had emptied its bowels on Rueben’s head. Keiko couldn’t help but smile as she cocked her head in the direction of the bird. Or maybe it was a moth. No, it flew like it was dancing.
A shiver ran up her spine.
She was looking at a bat. Not just any bat. Mace’s bat. Which meant he was still alive, because man and beast couldn’t survive alone. A surge of hope rushed through her, followed closely by outrage. She’d told him not to let that bat free, and he’d done it anyway—probably to keep an eye on her. What was he thinking? The bat made him vulnerable. Did he want to die? When this was over, she was going to give both of them a piece of her mind.
If she survived.
Chapter Thirty-Four
What the fake Rock lacked in speed, he made up for in brute force. Mace’s head snapped back when he took a punch to the nose. Blood spurted. The damn thing was broken. Again. He wiped at the blood with the back of his hand.
With his ability to anticipate movement before it happened, he should have had the advantage, but it was lost in the narrow confines of the corridor. In a space this tight, strength beat speed hands down.
They have her. The bat’s voice in his head was distracting, and Mace took a step back to give him time to deal with it. That step took him closer to the end of the corridor. Closer to being hemmed in. His huge opponent grinned knowingly and advanced on him.
Is she hurt? He dodged the fist that came at him. Jabbing Rock over his kidneys. Once. Twice. It barely made an impact. The guy was one massive steroid-enhanced muscle.
Some. Don’t like these bad people.
A flurry of strikes in both directions left Mace breathless and spitting blood. Rock showed only irritation, and slow dread crept into Mace’s mind. Was this really going to be the fight he lost? The one where he let his team down? The fight that took him away from Keiko when he’d only just found her?
The bat sent him an image of her. Alone, small, and vulnerable, surrounded by people who were out for her blood. She didn’t stand a chance. And every minute he was away from her was a minute closer to her being sacrificed for Freedom’s cause.
Over his dead body.
Rock grabbed him, pulling him in tight, pummeling his stomach as he snarled in his ear, “Any last words, asshole?”
Vomit rose in his throat. “How about a Glasgow kiss?”
Rock’s head pulled back, confused and disgusted. Obviously he’d never heard of the move. Mace didn’t hesitate—he sent his head into his opponent’s face, using it as a battering ram to take out his nose and taking some satisfaction in the fact it was the giant’s turn to bleed.
Rock staggered back, giving Mace an opening, and he didn’t waste it. Using every bit of force that he could muster, he hit one of the only two vulnerable spots he could see on the guy—his throat.
He felt his punch hit true. For a second, a look of startled bemusement filled the giant’s face, and his hands flew to his throat. And then he crumpled. His windpipe crushed. His life over.
Mace didn’t take time to gloat. He stepped over the body and picked up his weapon just as another Freedom fighter appeared from the basement. Mace shot him in the head and didn’t bother hanging around to watch him fall. Instead, he ran for the elevator. His nose was broken, but the bleeding had stopped, and one of his eyes was swelling shut. He could ignore both complaints. His main worry was the pain in his chest every time he took a breath, indicating his ribs were cracked, maybe even broken. But none of that mattered. All that mattered was getting to Keiko. He wished he could use his bat to pass on a message to assure her he was coming. That he’d keep his word. That somehow, some way, he’d get her out of this alive.
If it was the last thing he did.
…
“This is an EMP band.”
The woman who’d introduced herself as Susan Neal and was obviously in charge held up the innocuous-looking piece of equipment for Keiko to see. Hard to believe that it could kill with just one flick of a switch.
The way it had killed Abigail.
She’d spotted her friend as soon as they’d made it to the edge of the stage. Abigail looked like a rag doll, tossed on the ground by a child throwing a tantrum. There was blood on her face, and her limbs lay at unnatural angles. For the first time in Keiko’s life, she understood what the word lifeless meant. It wasn’t death—it was the absence of life. Abigail was a shell. Everything that had made her her was gone—her joy, her shyness, her fierce loyalty. It had all fled, along with her spirit.
Her friend was gone.
It was like a knife to her gut. And having her lie there, discarded for all to see, made her death seem worse. No, not her death. Her murder. It ripped Keiko apart inside to see Abigail like that. But she wasn’t going to give her murderer the satisfaction of seeing her mourn. That would be saved for later, when Keiko could give her friend’s memory the respect it deserved.
“I’ll give you a choice,” Susan said, tearing Keiko’s attention from Abigail’s body. “You can wear the band and kneel on the stage beside the delightful Rueben. Or you can address the cameras with a statement I’ve prepared for you.”
Susan had chilling blue eyes that held only a hint of amusement and none of the disgust or despair Keiko would have expected from a civilian who felt they had to execute people to further their cause. With her blond hair and her cold eyes, the terrorist was strangely familiar. It took a minute for Keiko to realize the woman reminded her of Miriam Shepherd. And for the first time in all her years of working closely with CommTECH’s CEO, Keiko wondered if
Miriam would also find it easy to kill for her cause.
“I assume this statement you’d like read has me playing the part of a Freedom convert.”
It wasn’t a question. She knew public relations. She’d built her reputation on being the trustworthy voice of the ruling company. People believed what she said, and because of that, she tried to give them the truth and not misuse her power. She wasn’t a fool. There was a certain amount of manipulation in every marketing scenario, but Keiko had tried to use hers for good and not evil. Like a superhero.
Mace had been right. She was naive.
“I can’t do it.” She shook her head at the woman who’d murdered her friend.
“You mean you won’t do it.” Susan angled her head and considered Keiko. “Do you believe in the company that much? Enough to risk your life rather than your reputation?”
“Here’s the thing, Susan—it isn’t that I believe in CommTECH so much, it’s more that I just don’t agree with murdering people to get what you want. So, I’d rather not be a party to your cause.”
“You do understand how ironic that is, right?” Susan smirked. “Considering that you’ve been the face of a company that kills to get what it wants every single day.”
“Prove it,” Keiko challenged. “Because the only murderers I see are the ones standing in front of me, claiming they’re fighting for a higher cause.”
The Freedom leader’s eyes narrowed on her, and it occurred to Keiko that she probably shouldn’t challenge the woman. It was a sure way to die sooner rather than later. Her eyes flickered to Abigail’s body again. That would be her if she didn’t comply. Was her life worth standing on principle? Was Abigail’s life worth so little that Keiko would give in to the terrorists’ demands just to avoid death? What would Mace do if he were in her shoes? He wouldn’t play along to live an hour, a day, a lifetime more. He’d stand on his honor and resist. He’d demand to wear the damn band and then look for another way to escape death.
Red Awakening (Red Zone) Page 23