by Mark Ayre
Tinkling the key in her face with one hand, he took her arm with the other.
“Come now. Let’s get you somewhere safe.”
She wanted to scream, fight, scratch, or flee. Instead, she let the creep lead her from behind the desk, under the arch, toward room 002.
Regardless of their salary or training level, worker bees tend to slack when their queen is elsewhere.
At least one of the five agents should have noted the door from the lift vestibule to the corridor opening. Three were joking while one dozed by the door. The final checked out the pretty receptionist. Incidentally, Bethany alone raised her head as the twins entered the corridor.
Looking through them, she decided her ears were playing tricks. Any of the agents might have done the same. If their employers had briefed them on Adam’s ability, they would have at least checked.
The corridor was narrow. Adam and Eve could have pressed their backs to the wall. Armed with a desire to be thorough, the agents would have found them anyway.
They were lucky. No one who mattered was paying attention. Still, they would not fail to notice the lobby’s glass double doors open to the world. Therefore, with that avenue out of bounds, the twins would turn left at the crossroads.
They made slow progress, slower with each step. As though he were dragging a car, Adam huffed and puffed. By the time they reached the lobby arch, he was shaking and his nose was bleeding.
Behind them, the door opened once more. A tall woman followed by two agents appeared. Neither Adam nor Eve knew her. Immediately, they saw her status as this operation’s Queen Bee.
Their aim was the kitchen. Preferably, they would arrive before becoming visible. Though the distance was short, the chance of achieving their goal was slim.
Adam would have tried. Eve knew when he was pushing himself too hard. Unable to carry his weight, she could not risk him passing out.
Squeezing his hand, she pushed his back to the wall, which split them from the lobby, and yanked her hand from his.
As long as Adam held her, she could see them both. Nothing, no pop or flash of light, indicated she had reappeared. Years of experience told her the moment she broke their connection, she became visible.
She could still see him. He must have given up when she let go. Good.
On the wall’s other side, the woman was frightening the receptionist.
Adam clutched his racing heart. Deep, slow breaths helped regain his strength.
They were ten steps from their target—the kitchen door.
The woman was galvanizing her troops. She outlined her intention to leave one of her agents with the receptionist, for whom she would soon return. By the end of the night, poor Bethany would have vanished. Eve didn’t intend to go the same way.
Putting Adam’s arm around her shoulder, she nodded toward the kitchen door.
He remained against the wall.
“Ad, we have to go.”
The agents were departing. They’d be surrounding the hotel and searching the area. Every second, the chance of escape slimmed.
The remaining agent implicitly outlined his intentions for Bethany. For her safety, he would take her to one of the rooms.
Any second, he would appear under the arch. Chances were, he wouldn’t turn toward the kitchen. Without invisibility, they would probably be safe.
It wasn’t a risk Eve wanted to take.
“Come on,” she said.
This time, Adam came. She moved toward the kitchen.
He slipped from beneath her arm, lumbering with none-too-quiet steps toward the arch.
“What are you doing?”
But she already knew. On the other side of the wall, the black-hearted agent led poor Bethany toward Adam and Eve.
Eve wanted to be gone before he came into view.
Though he looked ready to collapse, Adam continued toward the arch.
“Adam, remember what Mum said.”
Adam paused. Often, he would quote their mother. Eve rarely mentioned her. She had a thousand sayings, aphorisms, and insults. Instantly, Adam knew which Eve was referring to.
As a ten-year-old, Adam had watched a younger boy kidnapped by a gang. Unable to let this injustice slide, he had used his ability to snatch the boy back, right from under the crooks’ noses. Upon arriving with the boy’s mother, she had declared Adam a hero. When he told his mother what had transpired, she slapped his face and warned him.
With abilities like yours, you have two choices—be a hero or survive.
In a hurried whisper, Eve repeated, “We have to go.”
Under the arch, Bethany appeared, directed by the agent.
At the same time, Adam’s strength failed. He collapsed to one knee, his hand smacking the wall.
Spinning, the agent’s eyes widened. With his free hand, he went for his gun. Opening his mouth, he prepared to yell for help.
Outside, Caldwell mobilized her teams. In the face of failure, she tried to remain positive.
As she barked orders, pocket vibrations signaled an incoming call. Because of the mission’s importance, she had set her phone to Do Not Disturb. If friends, family, or her young sons tried to contact her, she would not be notified. Only one number was exempt.
Aware she was on the verge of trembling like the receptionist, she took several deep breaths before extracting the phone. Removing herself from the small crowd to whom she had moments ago been issuing orders, she took a couple more.
Not sure she was ready, but knowing that keeping the boss waiting was never bright, she pressed the green key, putting the handset to her ear.
“Sir?”
“I’m calling for good news.”
His tone was jovial. He’d used it to commend her fine job in her previous assignment, and when he’d ordered the murder of a room full of adults and children who had been guilty of nothing more than having seen something they shouldn’t.
“You’re a little early, sir,” she said, keeping her voice as level as possible.
“Early?” He pretended to ponder. “I’m surprised. Did I not give you a tiny radius with which to work?”
“You did, sir.”
“A hotel, wasn’t it?”
“It is, sir.”
“I imagine they were tucked up in bed. It can’t have been difficult to find their room. In such a confined space, it should have been a simple matter of putting them into an even deeper sleep and bringing them in.”
Somehow, Caldwell managed not to release a breath of frustration. The targets had been on the run since Caldwell was in school. Many had tried to secure them. It had always turned out to be anything but simple.
Her boss, and this was something she would not only never say but was also almost afraid to think, had presided over more failed capture attempts than anyone.
What she managed, after careful internal deliberation, was, “The operation is in progress. They will not evade capture. We only need a little more time.”
For a while, there was silence. At last, her boss released a long breath.
“As you know, I trust you completely. I’ve kept you from this case because I understand how difficult it can be. I wanted to protect you from failure.” For some time, he left this hanging. Maybe he wanted to hear Caldwell’s fear. She said nothing.
He went on, “I’ve got belt and braces on this one, Caldwell.”
“Sir? I’m not sure I understand.”
“It’s simple. You’re in competition. You’re not the only one after the twins tonight.”
To this, Caldwell sensed he expected her to respond. Jaw tight, she could not bring herself to speak.
“Even if you fail,” the boss continued. “Donnelly might succeed.”
At this, she took the phone from her ear so he could not hear her breath of frustration.
“Donnelly,” she repeated upon returning the phone to her ear. At his name, she had to pause to grind her teeth. “Donnelly will not be necessary, sir,” she said. “The twins will be mine by the e
nd of the night.”
“For your sake,” the boss said. “I hope so.”
The line went dead.
Shaking with rage as much as fear, Caldwell tried to compose herself as she returned to the hotel entrance. Upon arriving, she grabbed her second-in-command’s shoulder.
“I don’t care what we have to do. I don’t care how much firepower we have to use. I want them found. Tonight.”
The look in her eyes must have frightened her second. He backed up a pace while nodding like an idiot.
Caldwell hardly noticed. She stared at the hotel.
“They must be nearby. They have to give themselves away.”
One of her agents flew through the front door, then smashed into an SUV’s reinforced windscreen.
To who she whispered, “Thank you,” to, she did not know, but she whispered it all the same before running toward the hotel.
Terrified of the recoil, Eve rarely fired her inbuilt weapon. Consequently, she lacked the control her mother had promised was possible.
Given his position at the crossroads’ center, Eve had no doubt intended to send their adversary backward, toward the ground-floor guest rooms. Perhaps to the right, toward the lift and stairwell.
Without control, he had flown left. They could not see him, but heard him crash through the hotel front doors and onto a windscreen. They did not need to look to know his flight would have been noticed, and by whom.
They had to move. Now.
Adam still felt as though he had been hit by a truck. Eve went to her knees, hands over her face. Visions would have overcome her like a fever. At least she remained conscious.
Knowing this was his fault, Adam forced himself to rise. Ignoring the throbbing headache and aching muscles, he grabbed Bethany’s wrist.
“Come.”
The hotel doors crashed open once more, and the baddies rushed in.
In the corridor, Adam slipped Eve’s arm over his shoulder, as she had tried to do to him, dragged her down the hall, and kicked open the kitchen door.
To Bethany, he said, “Go.”
As the agents began firing under the arch, he followed her inside.
Caldwell’s troops spread out in the lobby. She pointed ahead, and they fired through the arch.
“Split up, stay spread,” she said. “Even if you can’t see them, you’ll feel them. Fire periodically to get as much cover as possible.”
At the crossroads, her agents split three ways. Driven by instinct, she took the right fork. At the split between the restaurant and kitchen, she put her hand to the kitchen door.
“We’re going to get the bastards tonight.”
She pushed, somehow sure her quarry was on the other side.
The kitchen was small and square. Hobs and ovens lined the edges, an island in the center. On tiled walls, Eve saw a mirage of dancing ice-blue fire. She struggled to remain standing.
Spitting, she rounded on Adam. “You’re an arsehole, little brother. We should be gone.”
Bethany said, “Little brother?” The hope in her eyes was pathetic.
“By six minutes,” Adam said.
“I thought you were a couple.”
“Shut up,” Eve said. “You broke the rules, idiot. Heroes die. Heroes always die.”
Footsteps pounded down the hall. Raising a hand, Eve was overcome by waves of dizziness and slid to the floor. Above her head, the ice fire became a whirlpool leading to a black point. It called to her.
Adam was by her side, his hands on her arm.
“Don’t go.”
Someone tried the door. It wouldn’t budge. Seconds later, a heavy boot attempted to force the issue. Each kick sent a shockwave through Eve. Before long, her power would wane. The door would give.
“We have to leave,” she said, dragging herself up on Adam’s arm, pointing to the exit at the end of the kitchen. “They’ll have the doors covered. They’ll start firing the moment it opens. Probably won’t stop.”
The door suffered its most substantial hit yet. Eve fell to her knees. Again, Adam was by her side, lifting her.
She said, “Time to go.”
“Come,” Adam said to Bethany. They were at the door before she spoke.
“How can we leave if they’re going to start shooting as soon as we do?” she asked.
“Good point. Stay here.” Eve turned to Adam. “I say we go cloak and shield.”
“Risky.”
“It’s our best chance,” Eve said. “We rely on you, and they’ll down us immediately. Me—they’ll follow until I collapse. Cloak and shield can work.”
Adam considered. “And if it doesn’t?”
“Fire and smoke.”
Bethany grew more confused by the second.
“What’s going on?”
“Doesn’t matter,” Eve said. “You’re staying here.”
The door buckled, but it didn’t give. An invisible force knocked against Eve.
“Has to be now.”
Nodding his acceptance, Adam held one hand out to her, the other to Bethany.
Rolling her eyes, Eve said, “You’ve got to be kidding.”
Bethany looked terrified.
“Trust me,” Adam said.
If only because she fancied him, Bethany nodded and took his hand. Eve grabbed the other.
Under the weight of one last kick, the kitchen door disappeared. The agents had arrived.
Their instructions were simple. If a door opened and the twins appeared, open fire.
If a door opened and no one appeared, open fire.
Invisibility could not outlast consciousness.
Weapons raised, the agents waited, all focus on the metal door which led from the kitchen to a raised platform. Three stone steps led to the ground.
Though their Queen Bee was absent, no one slacked. They had seen her fury. They knew the cost of failure.
In silence, under the light of the single lamp high above the alley, they waited in perfect readiness.
The door burst open. No one appeared.
They opened fire.
Darts tipped with potent sedatives flew toward the trio.
Bethany screamed.
Had she not been otherwise occupied, Eve would have rolled her eyes.
Adam’s nose was bleeding again, his head pounding. Out the door, by the railing, even three stone steps seemed too many.
The world swam before Eve. The sky had turned to fire. The soldiers and their vehicles shimmered. Shapeless beasts appeared over their shoulders; gaping jaws wide enough to devour the agents whole.
What life gave with one hand, it took with the other. Blessed with incredible abilities, terrible suffering upon use of their gifts was the twins’ destiny.
Another of their mother’s edicts: Unless necessary, never use your powers simultaneously. If you both should fall, escape will cease to be an option.
No other options being available, Eve had decided it was worth the risk. With every second that passed, she became less sure.
Adam made them invisible. Eve ensured the bullets passed through, hitting the wall. If they were to survive, the shooting had to stop fast; Adam had to hold long enough to get them clear.
Had he not already used his ability minutes ago, it might have been possible.
At either end of the alley were two black SUVs and four agents, each armed. As anticipated, they quickly stopped firing. Eve dropped her shield. The sky began returning to normal, the beasts fading as the agents solidified.
Adam was breathing more heavily, but he nodded as they departed the bottom step, determined to carry on.
With no clue what was happening, Bethany looked dazed.
It didn’t matter, so long as they escaped.
The kitchen door burst open. The Queen Bee appeared.
“They’re here. Keep firing.”
Reflexes dulled by fatigue, Eve reacted too slowly. The shots came; Bethany was in the line of fire. With a yell, Adam yanked her to safety.
Knackered, beate
n by his power, the yank brought him and Bethany to the ground.
As he fell, his hand slid from Eve’s.
She reappeared.
Queen Bee screeched, “There,” as though no one else could see Eve.
The guns swung her way. She looked at Adam.
“Fire and smoke.”
“No—”
Too late. Hands raised, eyes closed, she let loose.
Already sure the twins were present, Caldwell almost suffered an excitement-induced heart attack when the sister appeared.
Then it all went wrong.
After an extensive briefing, her boss had pulled Caldwell aside. With a fatherly hand on her shoulder, he had imparted one last pearl of wisdom.
“I have faith you’ll catch the twins,” he said. “If you get them in your sights, best-case, you take both down. A couple of darts. Bring them in.”
She had nodded, never questioning why he was stating the obvious.
He wasn’t done.
“If you can’t get both, get the girl. Always the girl. The boy can vanish. Annoying, but give the girl half a chance and—”
As one, the SUVs exploded. Their carcasses shot into the air, twisting, turning, returning to the ground as hulks of metal.
Some landed on Caldwell’s agents, none of whom noticed. With the explosions had come four fireballs, engulfing her people. Most had died. Some screamed and flailed, consumed by flames.
Stunned, Caldwell stared, too shocked to move.
Then the girl disappeared.
“No,” she said. Descending the steps, she called to her remaining agents, who funneled through the door. “They’re still here. Shoot them, shoot them, shoot them!”
In desperation, she grabbed her gun and began firing into the rising flames.
“What was that? What was that? What was that?”
“No time,” Adam said. He dragged Bethany across the tarmac as waves of heat buffeted her face. Sweat born of fear and flame soaked her brow.