by Shutt, Tom
Not surprisingly, the men found little issue respecting the new chain of command.
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“What was that about back there?”
Kern was driving them each home, starting with dropping Alex back at her apartment in midtown. It would be a slower drive with rush hour traffic, which afforded her the time to voice the question she had been muffling since the exchange of power on the rooftop.
“Why don’t you just read me and find out?” her father asked. He sounded genuinely curious about why she wasn’t employing her powers.
She knew now that he could deceive her, if not hide the truth entirely. “I want to hear it from you,” she said. “Talk to me.”
James shifted in his seat, cradling a glass of champagne poured from one of the towncar’s resident bottles. “Leviathan is mine, Alexis, and their leadership lost sight of that. Independence from government oversight is one thing, but independence from me is something else entirely, an aberration that I will not tolerate. Your mother’s death—” He broke off for a moment, and Alex could hear the pain in his voice as it cracked with emotion. “Her passing struck me hard, and I wanted vengeance, I’ll freely admit it. Life has been unfair as of late. SymbioTech’s acquisition of my company, in addition your mother’s...decline, has worn heavily on my soul. To think that her killer yet breathes pains me in ways you cannot imagine.”
His speech had dipped into the formal parlance of his upbringing—whenever that had been—and Alex trembled at how the words affected her. This was a man with power and purpose. Her mother’s passing—an event which long preceded her body’s death—had been her father’s crucible, and he had emerged all the stronger for surviving it.
James clenched one hand into a fist as he lifted the champagne glass with the other, draining it in one ambitious gulp. “I was wrong about our purpose here, Alexis,” he said, gazing meaningfully into her eyes. “We are not silent observers, nor should we be humble in the face of danger. There are more men like Kellogg out there. Those who would wish us harm simply for being born the way we are. This city is dying—” He reached out and grasped her hand. “—but we are the cure.”
Alex smiled at her father, and another question came to mind. “Don’t you think it’s a coincidence that Kellogg was at SymbioTech tonight? Who do you think he was meeting with?”
“You couldn’t read in on them?” James asked, sounding both surprised and disapproving.
She shook her head. “Something about the place was throwing off my ability. It’s like they were using a psychic radio jammer.”
James frowned, but he squeezed her hand encouragingly. “Whoever it was, I intend to find them.”
“And then what will you do?”
“Discover the nature of their meeting, and take back my city by any means necessary.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Greg’s body was becoming a patchwork of burn scars.
The chemical burn on his arm from the patch was healing more slowly than the singed remnants of his electrical torturing. While those marks were fading fast, the square patch on his arm looked like the deep tan that followed a severe sunburn.
Emotional scars from that night were going to take a little longer to get over.
Brennan sat on the couch with a half-empty glass bottle of Coke in his hand and something mindlessly playing on the TV. Greg was paying attention, but Brennan was lost deep within his own thoughts. Two weeks had passed, and no more stabbings or bombings had occurred. Kellogg was in the custody of Agents Jun and Pascale, and Alexis “Alex” Brüding had made herself scarce, as promised.
He knew where she lived, both inside and outside the city. It would be a simple matter to march up to her door and slap handcuffs around her wrists.
And then what?
The infernal question reared its ugly head each time his thoughts ran around this circle, and there was no good answer. Lacking any evidence to the contrary, her mother’s death had been framed perfectly as the final murder of the now-infamous Levi Kellogg. Psychic conversations aside, she had never admitted to committing the murder. Approaching her now and bringing her into the station would only open the chance for her to play the tortured victim. Her mother just died, and now a detective who was known for being unstable wanted to pin her as an opportunistic copycat killer?
Brennan’s badge would be on Bishop’s desk within the hour.
He gulped down the rest of his Coke and contemplated opening another. At least his drinking problem was less expensive than most, and with significantly less damage to his liver.
A knock at the door startled both Brennan and Greg out of their reveries.
Brennan took a moment to peek through the peephole, and he sighed as the worst of his fears were confirmed. He opened the door to find Agent Pascale standing on the other side. Jun was positioned to his left, outside of the peephole’s frame of view.
“Detective,” Pascale said by way of greeting. His eyes scanned the interior of the apartment in one quick sweep. “It seems you’re off the hook.”
“Excuse me?”
Agent Jun coughed and pushed his way forward. “With regards to the busting-up of the Leviathan drug ring, you have been cleared of all possible wrongdoing,” he said, frowning at Pascale.
The older agent didn’t back down. “A half dozen men lost, and more drugs on the street than ever—”
“That’s enough,” Jun said firmly.
“So I’m still a detective?” Brennan asked.
Agent Jun nodded. “Lieutenant Bishop will reassign you to active duty, and you won’t be barred from any cases going forward.”
“That’s great news and all, but why was I kept off this one for so long in the first place?”
Pascale stepped across the threshold and jabbed a finger in Brennan’s chest. “Because you’re a dirty son of a—”
“That’s enough!” Agent Jun repeated, pulling his partner back into the hall.
“He’s just as bad as his father,” Pascale continued. He turned to Brennan. “We know you were in that building the night of Kellogg’s explosives, just before we arrived.”
“He also cornered Kellogg when nobody else was even close,” Jun reasoned quietly.
“Because he was in on it!” Pascale’s attention was fully focused on Brennan, who expected fists to start flying at any second. “You and Kellogg were working together, admit it!”
Jun ignored him. “When a significant number of officers are wounded or killed in action, an independent inquiry is organized to investigate any suspicions of misconduct.”
Brennan eyed him with suspicion. “They called in the FBI for an Internal Affairs matter?”
“The situation had…extenuating circumstances, where you were concerned.”
He put more pieces together. “Because of my father.”
Jun nodded. “Your family’s history on the wrong side of the law has caused certain parties to have reservations concerning your right to carry a badge.”
“So the inquiry was less about the actual case and more about me,” Brennan grumbled, displeased.
“We were wrong to be suspicious of you.”
Pascale scowled. “Speak for yourself.”
“There’s, uh, one other thing we have to tell you,” Jun said. He coughed self-consciously and produced a small plastic bag from within his jacket. “This entered into our investigation as evidence after the death of your sister.”
Brennan accepted the bag and looked through the clear, flimsy plastic to see a shaped lump of metal inside. A key, one which he vaguely recognized. Jun took it back and coughed again, his cheeks an even deeper red.
“You are your sister’s next-of-kin, so ordinarily all of her possessions would be transferred over to you,” Jun continued. “However, her living will was very specific about this key in particular. Is your nephew here?”
Greg shot up from the couch. “My mom left me something?” He sidled his way past Brennan and took the bag from Jun. He looked
down at the key and frowned. “What does it go to?”
Brennan glanced between his nephew and the key before turning to the agents and smiling. “Is that everything, Agent Jun?” he asked, purposely ignoring Pascale.
Jun nodded and stepped back. “Enjoy the rest of your day, Detective.”
The door closed quickly behind the men in black, and Greg gave him a curious look. “So what’s the big deal with the key?”
“It belonged to my parents, your grandparents,” Brennan explained. “I didn’t know that Maddy had the key, though I guess it would make sense that she did.”
“And the lock it opens…?”
Brennan shrugged off the sudden discomfort. “That’s the key to the, err…mansion.”
Greg’s jaw visibly dropped a few inches. “I don’t think I heard you properly. Did you just say you’re living in a cheap apartment in the city when you could be living in a freaking mansion?”
“Hey, this apartment isn’t cheap!”
“Compared to a house that has wings?” Greg countered.
“It’s a long story, but I wasn’t exactly the golden boy of the family. I couldn’t have moved back even if I wanted to.” Brennan helped himself to another Coke before sitting back down on the couch.
Greg sat beside him, and a silent moment passed between them, during which a wide smile spread slowly across his face. “So,” he started, drawing out the word. “Now that I legally own a mansion, I guess I don’t have to live here anymore.”
“I guess not.”
“So when can we move me in?”
Brennan grinned. “We? You’re a grown man now, obviously.”
“Well, I just need a ride there, since I don’t know where it is. After that, it’ll be full independence living in the lap of luxury.”
“Uh-huh,” Brennan said dubiously. “And how will you buy groceries? Or pay the utilities? I’d be surprised if the old place is even furnished anymore, so you’ll have to get a bed, too…”
Greg held up his hands in surrender. “All right, fine. I will allow you to be a paying tenant in my mansion.” He paused to consider something. “Since when did our family have a mansion?”
“That’s another long story,” Brennan sighed. “What makes you think I’d want to move? This place has to be a thousand times easier to maintain in terms of upkeep, not to mention rent.”
“Are you crazy? The rent here is insane, and whatever nest egg you saved up from being a Sleeper can’t last forever. Also—lest we forget—there’s now an organized gang of thugs and a homicidal psychic who know where you live.”
Brennan rubbed his chin. “You think Leviathan knows about this place specifically?”
“They would have to, right? You killed a half dozen of their men while rescuing Bishop, and then you escaped again from their ambush the other night. Wait, we’re sure it was Leviathan, right?”
“I haven’t pissed off any other gangs, to my knowledge.”
“Right. So odds are good that they’ll have this apartment on their hit list soon enough.”
Brennan sighed and looked around the room. It wasn’t much, but this place had been his home since before his and Mara’s wedding. The commute to work couldn’t be better, and despite Greg’s earlier argument, the rent was lower than a lot of places in center city. Not by much, but enough that it afforded an extra pizza or two each month.
Before long, he was thinking about where they could pick up boxes for packing, and Brennan knew that the battle was lost. He didn’t want to return to the home of his youth, the birthplace of some of his darkest memories and deepest regrets, but it simply wasn’t safe for them to remain here. While taking refuge in a Scottage in the valley had been a pipe dream, the family mansion was a very real and imminent future for them.
The only thing left now was to recognize the gift fate had given them and to accept it.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Alex swirled her glass of wine in one hand as she gazed down upon the city.
The floor-to-ceiling windows afforded her an amazing view, and the sunset this evening was no exception. Fire spread across the city as the amber rays of the sun reflected rampantly off the mirrored sides of the skyscrapers that dotted the landscape. She emptied the cup of its last finger of wine and felt her mind become mercifully less poetic.
If the pattern of the last few weeks persisted, she would not be getting any sleep tonight.
All around her, neighbors grumbled at their spouses and thought about only the darkest portions of their days. Everybody was in a generally foul mood, a collective disgruntlement that was only getting worse, and Alex had a pretty good idea of what was behind it.
When the last violent hues of red disappeared behind dusky clouds, she put on a decent outfit and left her apartment. The elevator dinged, and Alex pressed the button for the fifteenth floor.
Benjamin didn’t seem surprised by her appearance outside his door. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” he asked. He was dressed comfortably, but not yet in sleep attire.
Alex pointed toward the back bedroom. “You need to take care of that.”
Well-worn wrinkles appeared as Benjamin frowned back at her. “He is not an object or an animal to be thrown away or put down,” he said sharply. “I do not carry so little faith in my loved ones as you do, Ms. Brüding.”
“That isn’t your grandson anymore. Not in the way that has any meaning.”
“All life has meaning.”
Alex sighed. “He’s only in pain now, and you know it. And he obviously isn’t pleased that Brennan is still alive.”
“All the more proof that the man he once was still exists,” Benjamin said mildly.
“His negativity is affecting everyone in the building, like a contagious darkness spreading from one head to the next. He’s patient zero.”
“I thought the wellbeing of others was not your concern.”
“Yeah, well, I can’t get any sleep, either,” she said resolutely.
Benjamin crossed his hands on his cane. “You must learn to manage stress if you wish to live as we do.” At the look on her face, he continued, “I will see about moving him to a more secluded rehabilitation facility. Would that satisfy you?”
“It will have to do.”
A moment of silence passed, and Benjamin took a slight step back into his apartment. “You did not come all this way just to tell me that,” he said solemnly.
Alex felt her lips spread in a vulpine grin.
I think it’s time we began my training.
Epilogue
“I am pleased to see you again, Arthur.”
Father Dylan ushered Brennan into his private office, and he was struck again by the room’s lack of decoration or ornamentation. There were few personal effects aside from framed photos of the holy man with several groups of people. The photos looked like they were taken during religious retreats.
“What brings you here this evening?” Father Dylan asked, waiting until Brennan was seated before taking his own chair.
“I was hoping to ask you something of a rather personal nature.”
“Of course you may. Please, speak your mind.”
Brennan hesitated for a moment and realized he was wringing his hands. “I’m not very good at this sort of thing. It’s been…well, god knows how long since my last confession.”
“It may seem a long time to you, but He is always listening.”
“That’s a comforting thought,” Brennan said dryly.
Father Dylan’s smile was gentle. “It should be.”
“I don’t know how I should start…”
“Take your time.”
“Have you ever felt conflicted?” Brennan asked. “I mean, when you know what you are doing is right, but the way in which you do it is not always so just?”
The priest inclined his head and steepled his fingers. “What is causing you to feel this turmoil?”
“You’re keeping up with the news, I assume?”
“Indeed. Dread
ful things must have happened to that man to guide him on such a path,” Father Dylan said solemnly.
Brennan felt his hair raise on end at hearing such a generous view given to the mass murderer. “He’s going to be in federal custody for the rest of his life…and I’m not sure that that’s enough.”
“You want to kill him.” It wasn’t a question, but Father Dylan also managed not to make it sound like a judgment.
“Yes.” Brennan paused. “No. I don’t know. The lives I took in my line of work…they were always justified because I believed in what I was doing.”
“And now your belief is shaken?”
“No, it’s not that. It’s…well, Kellogg believed in what he was doing, too, and he thought he was right. We’ve both left our share of bodies in our wake, but I’m a free man today because of…what? Enough people backing me up, and not enough people backing him? What if the mob thought that blowing up buildings and murdering innocents was the only way to achieve their goals?”
“Murder is never justified,” Father Dylan replied, his voice firm. “I am sorry that yours has been a difficult journey, and I am grateful that you do not have to undertake it alone.”
“You mean Bishop?”
Father Dylan nodded. “Noel will always be by your side, Arthur, just as I know you will always be by hers. I do not believe it was coincidence that crossed your path with hers.”
“My path has led me through some dark alleys, Father…and I’m afraid the darkest of them may be yet to come.” Brennan breathed deeply through his nose and exhaled through his mouth before glancing up at the priest. The old man’s eyes held an inviting warmth to them. “Recently, I experienced a…thing,” he started slowly. “I don’t even know how to describe it. Energy flowed through me, and it felt like wings were spreading outward from my back. I’ve never felt more powerful than I did in that moment, and in a flash, I knew exactly what I needed to do. My role in catching Kellogg became clear, or at least the drive to do something was reinvigorated.”