Phantom Legacy: The Phantom Chronicles, Book 3

by T. C. Edge

  “W-what do you want?” he asked. “You’re not interested in tattoos…”

  “No, we’re not.”

  The man only just seemed to notice Chloe, small as she was to Ragan’s side. She tilted her chin up, revealing her face beneath her hood.

  “Hey, Dale,” she said lightly. “Remember me?”

  Dale started.

  “Phantom…” he whispered. “Chloe Phantom…”

  “Now now, big man,” warned Ragan. “Not so loud.” The other bouncer, Bruno, looked over from the other side of the entrance. His eyes widened too, jaw slackening. “Now both of you are going to keep nice and quiet, understand?” said Ragan.

  Both men nodded silently.

  “Good. We’re here to see your boss. One of you go fetch him. Now,” he added with a growl.

  The two men exchanged glances, and then Bruno spun off, hurrying into the parlour. It left the other three outside, an awkwardness settling as Dale tried to keep his gaze elsewhere, and Ragan continued to scowl in a threatening manner to ensure he kept in line. The wait was, however, mercifully short, as within what seemed like seconds, Dax was hurrying out into the street, bulging eyes looking upon the group.

  “Inside, quickly,” he said, waving them through. “And you two, stay out here and don’t let anyone in.”

  “But…”

  “No buts, Dale. Just say we’re having trouble with the machines.”

  Dale grumbled, and Ragan and Chloe swiftly stepped through the doorway and into the parlour. There didn’t appear to be any customers currently being seen to, so no one had to be ushered out. Ragan imagined that Dale and Bruno worked partly on commission, hence the grumbling - shutting the shop at this time of day was only going to cost them.

  There were, however, a couple of artists there, lounging to one side and waiting for work to come. They looked up as Dax led Chloe and Ragan inside, but didn’t appear overly interested. It was likely that they were fully aware of Dax’s illegal operations, and were paid extra for their discretion and loyalty. Shutting the parlour in the middle of a busy day, and quickly ushering in two rather shady looking characters, probably wasn’t entirely unusual around here.

  Without a word, Dax led them through the back door of the parlour, down a set of stairs, and into his office. It was filled with screens, stations, other electronic devices. Ragan noticed one screen showing a security feed of the outside of the parlour - he’d probably seen them coming before they even arrived.

  Shutting the door behind them, Dax finally turned on them, his narrow features shaped into confusion, his spectacles sliding to the end of his nose. He pushed them up, and shook his head.

  “Now what the hell are you doing here, Chloe,” he asked. “And with him,” he nodded towards Ragan. “What on earth is going on?”

  “I told you I’d protect her, didn’t I, Dax?” said Ragan.

  Dax looked at him, suspicious.

  “It’s true,” said Chloe. “He’s saved me several times already, Dax. The reason everyone’s been hunting me…it’s over. Ragan has sorted it.”

  Dax’s frown deepened. He shut his eyes, and raised his palms.

  “OK, I’m going to need some catching up here. What exactly has been going on with you these last few days, Chloe? I thought you left the city with that new I.D. I made for you. What are you doing back here?”

  “Long story,” murmured Chloe. “All you need to know is that we need your help.”

  “No no no!” said Dax, shaking his head. “That will not do, Chloe Phantom. You can’t come stomping through my door and expect me to not wonder what’s been going on with you. You say the reason you’ve been hunted is…just done? Finished? Honey, I need an explanation here. And you,” he said, turning to Ragan. “I want to know more about your story too. I’m happy you stayed to your word and protected her, but…just who the hell are you! I’ve heard chatter from the CID about you. Seems they’re quite confused by your disappearance. I’ve been trying to figure things out, but I can’t. Now please…” he took a heavy breath. He really needed it. “….just tell me what’s been happening.”

  Ragan and Chloe looked at one another, both of them smirking at the breathless outburst.

  Ragan shrugged

  “Do you want to start, or shall I?” he asked.

  It took about fifteen minutes to catch Dax up, the hacker asking questions along the way that lengthened the process. Nothing was left out, though Ragan wished to cover certain topics without going into great detail, particularly the truth of what lay hidden in Chloe’s nanites, and the existence of Project Dawn.

  Chloe, on the other hand, seemed to have other ideas. She appeared happy to provide the full low-down, filling Dax in without restraint. The hacker watched on, eyes small and thoughtful, rarely showing great surprise, stroking his chin as he learned of just what secrets Chloe’s blood held.

  Eternal life. The evolution of war. A dangerous new horizon. Big concepts to get your head around, but Dax took them in his stride. It looked to Ragan that he probably had an inkling already, even if he didn’t know for sure. A man like this, who traded in secrets, wasn’t likely to be fully out of the loop.

  The mention of Project Dawn, however, had Ragan lifting his hand to try to stifle Chloe’s hurrying voice. It was an instinctive reaction, protective of the organisation he served. Or, used to serve.

  “What?” said Chloe, seeing Ragan’s raised hand and shaking head. “Dax needs to know everything if he’s going to help us.”

  She was right, Ragan quickly realised. They were here to find the location of Martha Mitchell, and possibly Mikel. Anything, really, that might help them track the data. They didn’t have Project Dawn or the CID to rely on for intel. Dax was their best, and only, hope, and so he deserved their trust.

  Ragan withdrew his hand, and his objection. Chloe’s voice rushed on.

  By the time she’d completed the explanation - mostly, she’d done the talking - Dax leaned back, considered things, and then asked calmly, “So, what do you need?”

  “Help,” Chloe said quickly. “We need help in tracking the data and its location. There’s no one else except you, Dax.”

  “And why didn’t you just call me?” he asked. “I gave you the comms link. It’s perfectly safe to use, untraceable and…”

  “I lost it,” said Chloe, interrupting, her voice a little guilty. “Or, well…I left it at Project Dawn’s base. We can’t go back after what’s happened. So, we had to come see you, face to face.”

  Dax nodded, quick to understand. He seemed partially worried about Chloe, and partially bemused by her quite remarkable change in fortunes since they last saw each other half a dozen days ago.

  “Your life is nothing if not hectic,” he said with a slanted smile. “From prey to hunter, he mused. “I like that.”

  Chloe drew a mischievous grin.

  “I kinda do too.”

  “And how are you playing with others?” He looked to Ragan. “Is he…treating you well?”

  “Yes,” said Chloe softly. “He’s been…great. ” She trailed off, blushing faintly. “There’s another two outside. They’re nano-enhanced like us. I like them, Dax. I like…all of this.”

  Dax continued to eye Ragan suspiciously, though smiled at Chloe’s obvious positivity on the subject.

  “Well, that’s good then,” he said after a pause. “I always wanted you safe, Chloe, and happy if that were ever possible. If Mr Hunt here, and your other companions, help with that, then I suppose they’re fine by me.”

  Chloe bristled with joy, as though getting the seal of approval from some great authority. Perhaps, Ragan thought, Dax was that to her. At the very least, he’d helped her over the years in staying hidden, providing her with identifications, backstories, pieces of tech that came in handy. Perhaps she looked up to him more than she realised. Or maybe it was simply that she didn’t have anyone else…

  At least, not until now.

  “Right then, let’s see what we can do fo
r you,” said Dax. He moved off from the chair he’d been seated in - the group had conversed in a little sitting area at the back of the office - and headed for his workstation with its array of screens and monitors. He dropped into a swivel chair and set himself in front of a touchpad, sliding out from his central desk. Fingers hovered, eager for work. He glanced back at the others. “Well, where shall we start?”

  They moved up towards him, leaning down on either side of his chair. Dax glanced back at Ragan.

  “Not too close if you don’t mind,” he said. He made no objection to Chloe’s proximity.

  Swallowing the minor slight, Ragan moved a little away, thinking it better to let Chloe continue doing the talking where possible. Whatever he said, Dax clearly had a dislike for Ragan; or perhaps more of a distrust, he couldn’t be sure.

  “OK, so we’re looking for Martha Mitchell’s address,” said Chloe. “We know she lives in the Mid-States, somewhere around Chicago.” Chloe had filled Dax in on Martha’s involvement thus far, so no other explanation was needed.

  “Right, this councillor…” murmured Dax, who began tapping quietly. “You’re certain that’s her real name?”

  Chloe looked to Ragan.

  “Yes,” he said. “The Mitchells are a powerful family in Chicago, if not secretive in their dealings.”

  “And you never knew anything about her deceit? You never had any doubts?” queried Dax, voice surprised, without looking around. “I find that odd, Mr Hunt, given you were at the heart of both this group of anti-technologists, and the CID. I don’t understand why you don’t have more intel on her?”

  “Well, she was never a person of interest at the CID,” said Ragan. “Honestly, we spent very little resources on threats from the MSA, and those that we did would never have flagged Martha, or the Mitchell family, up as worth watching.”

  “Hmmmm, and what about this Project Dawn?” said Dax. “Do they not have files on their members? Do they not perform background checks to ensure no spies slip through the cracks.”

  It was a reasonable question. Ragan noted the slight raise in Chloe’s brows, her ears pricking up to hear his answer.

  “Yes, we do have files,” said Ragan. “Though, I was never privy to them myself. You have to understand, Dax, that Project Dawn is an independent organisation, built from people from all over the continent and from all four nations. Of course we performed checks on anyone recruited, and I’m certain the same went for Martha, as well as all of the council members. She was involved from the very early days. I’m still shocked, to be quite honest with you, that she’s committed this treachery.”

  “That’s…surprising, Mr Hunt,” said Dax, finally turning slowly to meet his eyes. “Of all people, I’d imagine that you are quite well acquainted with the concept of betrayal. After all, you have betrayed your own nation, have you not?”

  Ragan stiffened.

  “That’s one way of looking at it,” he said, jaw clenching.

  “There’s another?” Dax’s eyes shaped scornfully.

  He really doesn’t like me, Ragan thought, teeth gritted.

  “Of course there is.” Ragan’s voice was getting dangerously close to snapping. This was a sensitive subject for him. “I worked for the CID for years, and was perfectly loyal to them too. I only joined Project Dawn in order to see Professor Phantom’s work destroyed, and to save his daughter.”

  “How noble of you,” hummed Dax. “We have a noble traitor here.”

  “Dax!” said Chloe, reprimanding. “Why are you speaking like this?” She sounded disappointed, almost hurt by the accusations.

  “I’m just trying to get things into perspective, Chloe,” Dax explained. “For my own sake. I’m not trying to cause problems.”

  “Well just…stop,” said Chloe, blue eyes narrowing. “You’ve heard how dangerous my father’s research is. Ragan’s only been trying to stop it from getting out. And…this isn’t about him, anyway. It’s about Martha. Yeah, Ragan may have worked behind the CID’s back, but only to stop that murderer, President Rashmore, from getting his hands on the data. It was him who made my father complete his research. It was him who forced my father to kill himself in his lab-fire. Dad found out what Rashmore was planning, and had no choice but to kill himself to stop it. All of this is happening because of Rashmore, all of it! Ragan knew that, and made it his mission to stop it. So don’t sit there and accuse him of being a traitor…”

  She stopped, and took a breath. A short bout of furious panting ensued. Dax looked on at her, slightly shocked by the force of her defence of Ragan, head cocked to one side.

  “Well,” he said finally, his voice rather more shallow now. “I guess…I stand corrected.” He turned to Ragan, whose eyes were on Chloe, grateful, adoring of this beautiful, feisty, protective girl. “I…apologise, Mr Hunt,” he went on. “I didn’t mean any offence, or to accuse you of any sort of duplicity. I just care about Chloe. I want to make sure she’s in good hands.”

  Ragan dipped his head in respect. He appreciated a man willing to go back on his words, to admit when he was wrong.

  “It’s all right, Dax,” he said. “I honestly don’t blame you for questioning me, or my motives. You have Chloe’s best interests at heart, and so do I…”

  “No!” came Chloe’s voice suddenly. Both men’s eyes darted right for her again. “This isn’t about me anymore,” she said, eyes still smouldering from her previous speech. She turned them carefully between the two men. “My father’s research has been extracted from me. I am not special anymore! I’m just another girl who wants to stop a shitty future from happening. I appreciate all your help, both of you, but I’m just…” she trailed of, taking another much needed breath. Her voice calmed. “I’ve just had enough attention for the last three years. All I want is to be one of the team, and not spoken about like I’m important anymore. Because I’m not, OK? I’m not.”

  The men exchanged glances. Ragan wanted to refute her. She was important. She was special. This wasn’t about the data hidden in her nanites. It was about her now, and nothing else.

  For a few long moments, however, no one spoke. It seemed Chloe need a few seconds of quiet to recompose herself, and the men didn’t want to risk another outburst by saying the wrong thing. Even nice words were taken the wrong way right now. Best to stay quiet, Ragan thought.

  Eventually, Chloe returned to her usual manner, the tigress sneaking back to its lair and the more shy and retiring girl stepping back out. She looked coyly at the two men.

  “Sorry,” she whispered. “I just…had to get that out.”

  The men nodded. Ragan smiled at her, adoring her even more for it. Dax turned back to his monitors, swivelling in his chair.

  “Right, so Martha’s address then,” he said. “I guess I’ll get started…”

  8

  As it turned out, finding the location of Martha’s home wasn’t quite as easy as expected. Or, at least, as Dax told them it would be. As he began his search, he waved off the suggestion that it might be difficult by telling them that a quick search of a government database or two would yield the desired results.

  Chloe watched on, hopeful, almost expectant. Dax’s fingers flew into a frenzy, hacking, tapping, bypassing security, filling screens with data, eyes scanning them with an increasingly furrowed brow. After several minutes of frantic activity, he huffed loudly.

  “What’s the problem?” Chloe asked, leaning in.

  “Nothing major,” said Dax. “Just having some trouble finding an address for the woman. She isn’t listed on any databases here in the WSA.”

  “Well that sounds pretty major,” said Chloe, concerned. “Can’t you hack the MSA databases? Surely they’ll have more information about their own citizens.”

  “That’s my next move, Chloe,” said Dax, fingers flying into action again.

  Chloe studied him once more, growing nervous. He continued to work at a furious pace, occasionally murmuring to himself or nodding. Suddenly, he sat back, stroked his c
hin for a moment, and then seemed to have another bright idea. A few minutes more, and he was seeming to have a little more success.

  It seemed almost like a battle to Chloe, some sort of intense cybernetic dance. Occasionally, Dax seemed to be getting the upper hand, landing a blow. Then some sort of security system would fight back, repelling him, blocking his attacks. He’d seek another way, working around the problem, his focus growing increasingly stressed as he did so, sweat beginning to bead on his forehead.

  After some time, he finally spoke, leaning back in his chair and letting out a breath.

  “OK…” be breathed. “We have a bit of a problem.”

  Chloe groaned.

  “What is it?” Ragan asked, eyes narrow.

  Dax pointed to one of his screens. He’d been collating information on it, drawn from several others. Chloe hadn’t understood the significance before Dax pointed it out.

  “You see this,” Dax said. Both of the others leaned in. Chloe now noticed that the screen was filled with a number of addresses. At least a dozen or them. Damn. “All of them are owned by the Mitchells,” went on Dax. “Some are private residences, others owned under company names controlled by the Mitchell family. Long story short, they have a lot of properties in and around Chicago, and there might well be more. This Martha Mitchell you’re looking for could be at any of them.”

  “Or none of them,” murmured Chloe, growing deflated. “What a waste of time coming here.”

  She moved off, bunching her fists and stamping around the room.

  Ragan leaned in to look more carefully at the screen. He studied the addresses for a few moments, before leaning back again and turning his eyes on Chloe.

  “What now?” she said, shrugging, huffing. “We can’t exactly go checking on each of those addresses. It was a stupid idea coming here…I wish I’d never mentioned it…” She huffed again.

  Ragan didn’t answer, though. He was thinking, mind occupied. He turned back to Dax.

  “I’m sure a few can be eliminated,” he said. “Martha spoke fondly of living on a large estate, somewhere near Chicago, I think towards the suburbs in the north, near the western shore of Lake Michigan. That’s got to narrow it down, surely?”