The thought gave her strength. If she was going to die, she wasn’t going to do it cowering before a madwoman. She was going to do it with the same sort of honor and dignity Mace would show. She straightened her shoulders and reached over to take the EMP band from Susan’s hands. While the Freedom leader stood in stunned silence, Keiko fastened the band around her own forehead.
“I’ll be on the stage with Rueben.” She took a step toward the scientist.
Susan’s hand shot out to curl around her arm and stop her. “Are you sure you want to die today?”
“No. But I don’t want to live with the knowledge I helped you, either.”
The leader dropped Keiko’s arm in disgust as a vicious glint filled her eyes. “Put her beside Abigail’s body. That will make a good visual for the cameras.”
As someone took her arm, Keiko worked on breathing evenly. The body wasn’t Abigail. Not anymore. Her friend was gone. All that was left was a shell. Nothing could hurt Abigail now. And Keiko wouldn’t give anyone the satisfaction of seeing Abigail’s death used to upset her, to make her cry for the cameras. No, she wouldn’t let her friend be used that way. Even in death.
Ignoring her roiling stomach and holding her head high, she walked up the steps to the exact place she’d started in hours earlier.
“Please kneel,” the polite man who’d delivered her to the terrace said softly, and she fell to her knees. There was no point in hesitating now that she’d chosen her course.
Her eyes found Abigail, and her soul wailed silently. Later, she promised herself. She’d grieve later.
The polite freedom fighter stepped behind her, took her hands, and fastened her wrists together. “I find that I am actually quite sorry to put you in this position, Ms. Sato,” he said softly. “You aren’t at all what I expected.”
“And yet, you’re still doing what your power-hungry leader orders,” she felt the need to point out.
“I’ve chosen my course, just as you have.”
Keiko looked out at the crowd of reporters. Most of them smiled at her, encouraging her while they cried. She gave them a small smile in return, letting them know they were all in this together.
And then, she turned her head and gave her attention and respect to Abigail. To the friend she’d loved. If it was the last thing she did, she would make sure that the world didn’t see Abigail as a victim of Freedom’s cause.
“You know,” she said in a voice loud enough to carry and for everyone to hear, “Abigail Dawson was a child genius. A prodigy. She could do things with nanotech before she turned ten that most scientists can’t do when they’re adults.” She smiled as she remembered Abigail explaining all about a new piece of tech she’d developed. Keiko had been lost after the first five minutes but had loved watching her friend’s childlike enthusiasm.
“Her mother was born blind.” Keiko kept talking and intended to do so until someone shut her up. She was doing it for Abigail. Who deserved more of an epitaph than the one Freedom had given her. “Abigail was designing a nanobot that could repair the eye from within. It’d been attempted in the past, but the risk of the nanos causing more damage than good was deemed too high to continue the research. Abigail thought she’d cracked the problem, and she negotiated with CommTECH to keep the tech at an affordable price for all. She’d even planned clinics where people could receive treatment for free. She was going to change the world with her intelligence and compassion.”
Keiko searched the crowd and found Susan’s angry gaze. “She had two kittens that she doted on. And although she was painfully shy, she had many friends. I was one of them. I loved that woman and counted myself blessed to know her. Tell me, Susan, how did killing Abigail Dawson further your cause? How did it help Freedom? Why don’t you go on air and explain to the people who would have benefited from her breakthrough, who would have had their eyesight restored, that Abigail’s death was for their good?”
Susan caught the eye of Keiko’s captor. “Gag her.”
The polite man who’d told her all about his suffering at the hands of CommTECH hesitated.
“It’s okay,” she told him. “Do what she tells you. After all, what you’ve lost is more important than anything Abigail lost or anything she would have done if she’d lived. Your wife, your job, your home. They’re worth Abigail’s life. They’re worth my life. Aren’t they?”
He couldn’t look her in the eye when he placed a silencer over her lips. Keiko raised her chin and stared out over the crowd. She’d done what she’d meant to do. She’d told the reporters that Abigail was valued. That she wasn’t just a victim of a terrorist attack. She’d been needed. And she’d been loved. And now, she was lost.
Keiko knew if they got out of this alive, the reporters would tell Abigail’s story, and she wouldn’t be lost forever. It was all Keiko could do, and she wished she could have done it for the other scientists lying dead on the platform. Abigail’s epitaph would have to be enough for all of them.
As she looked up into the night sky, Mace’s bat fluttered overhead, staying as close as it could to her without drawing attention to itself. Watching over her. Keiko wished she could communicate with the creature by thought the way Mace could, because she would tell it to pass on a message to his human half.
She would tell Mace not to come for her. To save himself instead. Because she was as good as dead, and she didn’t want to take him down with her. Not him. Not her Viking. The world needed him far more than it needed her. Now that she knew him, she knew he was far too precious to lose. The world needed a warrior to keep it on the right track. It needed a man of honor.
It needed Mace.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Enforcement Special Response Unit
Outside CommTECH Research Facility
Houston, Northern Territory
“The research mainframe with the backup data is on sublevel five,” Daniel Mercer told his twin. “Sublevels three through five are alarmed and fitted with blast doors. We would know if someone entered that section of the building.”
He looked up from the building plans he’d been studying on his datapad to find his twin standing out in the open. He faced the building, feet apart, arms folded, face blank—a visible challenge to Freedom.
But he was listening to every word Daniel said. “If the anti-missile grid over the terrace wasn’t still functioning, we could blast them off the building.” Charles looked as though he was trying to figure out a way to do it anyway.
“Shepherd doesn’t care about casualties, but she does care about her company’s reputation.” Daniel nodded his head toward the cameras floating at the perimeter line. “If we blow up Keiko Sato on the news, it would be bad press.”
Charles didn’t care about the press—or anything else, for that matter. All Daniel’s twin cared about was getting what he wanted. Every situation was a negotiation. He would only do what Shepherd wanted for a price. But the price was never exacted from anyone but Daniel. It was how they’d always done things.
“What’s the plan?” Charles kept his eyes on the building, as though he was trying to see inside it. Who knew what went on in his brother’s head?
“We take a team. We go floor to floor until all targets are eliminated.”
“Time-consuming.” In other words, the plan took too long to get to the good part—the killing. “What’s your backup plan?”
“Two teams.” Daniel had kept his preferred plan as his backup, knowing full well that Charles would veto whatever his first suggestion happened to be. “We go straight to the terrace and hit it with a bigger team while the second team works their way up the building, sweeping for strays.”
At last, his twin turned to face him. There was no expression on his face; there never was—only a cold, calculated intelligence. “My payment is Keiko Sato.”
And there it was. Time to pay the beast. Daniel had been paying the beast his whole life. It was the only way to ensure they both survived. Otherwise, Charles would have taken him down,
along with himself, long ago.
“Take someone else. You can have the Freedom leader.” Someone, anyone, who was guilty. Not an innocent like Keiko. Never one of those.
“No.” He was implacable.
Daniel confronted his mirror image. “Shepherd will want Keiko alive, if we can manage it.” The fact that they weren’t meant to put any effort into saving the press secretary was neither here nor there.
“I want her.” Charles’s voice was steel.
Daniel felt a cold flicker of dread creep up his spine. He knew that tone. There was no arguing with his twin now.
All he could do was demand a concession. “Somewhere away from cameras.”
Charles inclined his head and turned back to the building. Their discussion was over, at least for him. Nothing else interested him, now that they’d agreed on the payment made between twins. The payment extracted in order to let Daniel carry on living and pretending he was normal. Pretending he wasn’t half of the feared Mercer twins. The half that wasn’t a psychopath who reveled in death.
Daniel signaled to the Enforcement commander that it was time to gear up. There was nothing he could do for Keiko Sato now. Her fate had been sealed the moment Freedom had stormed the building. Now, all he could hope was that Freedom gave her a swift death.
Before his twin got his hands on her and gave her his brand of dying.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Mace climbed back out onto the ledge of the sixty-seventh floor. This time, there was no spotlight to blind him—and no Keiko beside him, an omission that made his gut clench. He’d been receiving updates from his bat and knew she was bound and gagged, kneeling on the platform, waiting for death. According to the bat, she’d volunteered for her death. The bat thought she’d been noble. Mace thought he was going to smack her backside until she couldn’t sit down for doing something that dumb.
Save mate, the bat said for about the millionth time. Apparently, the flying rodent thought he needed regular reminders to keep him on track.
I know she’s tiny, but she isn’t a bat. She’s a woman. You need to take your horny ass over to Waugh Bridge and pick up a female bat. And, for the record, bats don’t mate for life. They’re horndogs.
At least, he didn’t think they did. He should probably do some research on bats, seeing as he was stuck with one. And yeah, it’d taken him three years to admit that the fur ball wasn’t just going to fly away and let him get on with his new life.
We mate for life, the bat said smugly. It’s a part of our new mixed genetics.
There’s no way you understand what any of that means. You have a brain the size of a fucking peanut.
I have your brain. And you have mine. We’re a unit. I am no longer just a bat. You are no longer just a human.
Mace hated that the flying rat made sense. He’d spent three years in denial, pretending his genetics hadn’t changed. Ignoring his other half as best he could. Now he wondered if his lack of acceptance was the reason his animal was so difficult to control.
Striker’s diamondback doesn’t talk as well as you do, and he’s been talking for longer. According to Striker, the animal spoke broken English, unless he was cursing Striker—then he had an extensive vocabulary.
He felt the bat shrug in his mind. I’m smarter. I’ve been in your head for a long time. I learn much.
Great. He’d landed the Einstein of bats. What’s going on now?
There was a pause as Mace made his way as fast as possible along the ledge. In the distance, he could see a line of yellow on the horizon, signaling sunrise was heading their way.
An image of Keiko bound and gagged filled his mind, and he almost stumbled.
The small man is crying and begging. He is distressing our mate. I need to make him stop.
No, Mace said as an image of Rueben Granger wailing beside Keiko entered his head. Keep your distance, Mace ordered, although he had no idea what the bat thought he could do to shut the man up. You need to remain safe so you can look after our mate. I need your eyes for this plan to work.
Save mate, the bat agreed solemnly.
With care, Mace slowed his steps as he rounded the corner onto the ledge above the terrace. It looked like a battle zone. Furniture had been overturned, people were huddled together in the center of the patio area, and there were dead bodies scattered everywhere. In the middle of it all, on the stage, knelt Keiko—right next to the body of her friend.
Mace’s heart clenched at the sight. She’d been hurt. Bruised. But her chin was up, and she was staring at the Freedom fighters. She was a queen, dressed in torn and borrowed clothes. Her hands had been fastened behind her, and a silencer covered her mouth. Around her head was an EMP band—one she’d placed there herself, according to his bat.
Mace clenched his teeth so hard his jaw hurt. He hated that she was positioned beside the bodies of the people she’d worked with. People she’d cared about. He hated that she was fodder for the press assembled in front of her. Sure, they were terrified, afraid Freedom would turn on them next, but he would still bet everything he owned that they were making mental notes about Keiko for when they were freed. They’d write about how she had been brought low by Freedom. How her usual immaculate style had been replaced by torn and borrowed clothes that didn’t fit properly. They’d describe in detail how she’d knelt before her captors, silenced, cowed.
Only, she wasn’t cowed. She was glaring at her captors. Silently challenging them.
“That’s my girl,” Mace whispered to the wind.
Our girl. Our mate.
For once, Mace agreed. Dragging his eyes from Keiko, he studied the terrace, looking for a way down onto it. It was easy enough to find. The pergolas offering shade for the workers were close enough to the walls to allow him to jump onto them and scale down the wooden structures to the terrace below. He’d get to Keiko within seconds. Unless the jump forced a broken rib into his lung.
His first priority—his only priority—was to get that EMP headband off her head.
Who has the detonator? he asked his other half.
The evil one.
I need a bit more information, buddy.
There was a pause, and he realized it was the first time he’d used a friendly name with his other half. Guess the rat was finally growing on him. Who knew?
An image of a woman with blond hair entered his mind, and he recognized her from the earlier broadcast during which she’d killed Abigail. Mace spotted her easily. The woman was deep in discussion, a group crowding around her as she gave orders. He’d found the leader of this assault. And he marked her for death.
Do what you can to get that headband off Keiko. I’ll get to you both as fast as I can.
Don’t die, was the droll reply.
It’s time. Get ready.
He looked out across the terrace, noting the position of each Freedom fighter. The terrorists were confident enough to believe they were untouchable. They were relaxed, and instead of spreading out to guard their weak points, most of them were chatting or listening to their leader.
He reached into the bag he’d stolen from a dead Freedom fighter and retrieved two hand grenades.
It was time to end this.
…
Keiko was going to die.
There was no getting around it. The weapon that would kill her was strapped around her head, and she’d done everything within her meager power to piss off the woman who had her finger on the trigger.
She supposed she should have spent her time thinking about all the things she could have done with her life or remembering all the people she loved and would miss—her parents, friends, sister, colleagues… The list was endless, making her realize just how blessed her short life had been. But, as important as all those things were, the only thoughts in her mind were of Mace.
Where was he? What was he doing? Was he okay? Her eyes roamed the sky for the bat, feeling relief when she found it. He was alive. That much was certain. But what state was he in? What if he needed h
er?
She’d never felt more helpless in her life, and she hated it. No, she hated Susan Neal and the Freedom terrorists for putting her in this situation. She hated them for killing Abigail and all the other innocent people in their quest to be heard. She hated CommTECH for their underhanded practices and their disregard for human life. She hated all of it.
She wanted to go home.
How pathetic was that? She didn’t even know where home was anymore. Even if she wanted to, she couldn’t go back to her apartment and carry on as usual, pretending she didn’t know what CommTECH was doing or that people would be hurt because the company was more interested in profit than lives. But the truth was, she didn’t want to go back, anyway. She wanted to stay with Mace.
And that’s when it hit her.
She’d fallen in love with him.
If the gag hadn’t been in place, she would have laughed. All these years of joking that a Viking was her perfect man, and it turned out she was right. She loved his strength, his courage, his honor. She loved his sense of humor, the way he cared for her, and the way he thought about things. She even loved that he was fighting in the shadows, doing what he could to survive in a world that was alien to him, as he struggled to come to terms with being so very different.
She loved Mace Armstrong.
And if it had happened fast, it was because they’d lived a lifetime since they’d met. She wasn’t stupid. She knew if she chose Mace, she was turning her back on her life. He lived on the fringes of society, and she would have to live there, too. But she’d been living in the light her whole life and had discovered that there wasn’t anything of substance there. Maybe it was time to try the shadows along with Mace.
In that strange moment, as the sun peeked over the horizon and the light of a new day flooded the earth with hope, a tear slid down Keiko’s cheek. She’d thought life was defined by achievements, but it wasn’t. It was defined by whom you loved and who loved you. She’d loved Abigail and had been blessed to call her a friend. And she loved Mace. A new, fresh, fragile kind of love that wouldn’t have time to grow.
Red Awakening (Red Zone) Page 24