Darkest Day (StrikeForce #3)

by Colleen Vanderlinden

  I shot her a look and she sighed.

  “Do you want to die? Is that what this is? Is this your penance?”

  “Stop.”

  “No. You dying isn’t going to solve anything.”

  “I’m not trying to die,” I said.

  “Well, I wouldn’t have guessed that. I’ve kept my mouth shut thinking I was doing you a favor, trying to understand that you need this, that you need to make them pay. But that,” she said, gesturing toward my pocket with my phone, “he wants to hurt you. A lot. And I know you hate hearing stuff like this, but he’s more powerful than you. Not stronger, but more powers.”

  “And those powers are likely coming back to bite him in the ass. He’s losing it, and I’m not worried.”

  “Damn it, Jolene,” Jenson said, shoving me hard. I hit the wall behind me.

  “What the hell?”

  “He’s going to hurt you. Torture you, and you know he’s done it before. And he won’t even be decent enough to kill you when its over. He’ll let you linger so you have to relive it. Is that what you want?”

  “You’re assuming he’s going to catch me. Get a grip.” I had to admit it. I was shaken, not by Killjoy’s call anymore, but by Jenson’s response to it. I’m not used to seeing her like this. Afraid, panicked, angry.

  “Get a grip. Fuck you, Jolene,” she said, and stalked away from me. I stared at her back, then ran to catch up with her.

  “What the hell, Jenson?”

  She shook her head, and I was shocked to see her blinking back tears.

  “I’ll be careful. You know I will. Do you think I’m that stupid?”

  “No, I don’t think you’re stupid. I think you have a death wish. And maybe you can’t even see it, but all of this, the broken ribs, the one-woman hunts, the endless working… you’re doing a damn good job of punishing yourself and calling it chasing justice.”

  “I’m not punishing myself. Not with this,” I said. “Every thought, every waking and most sleeping moments are my own personal punishment. I wish I could explain it better. When I’m here, when I’m not working, when I’m lying in bed at night, it’s always there. Mama’s last moments, every second of that last day and all the shit I could have done differently. And then, worse, all of those happy times with my mom start running through my mind, and that feels like having my heart cut out over and over again. The good memories are supposed to make it better, right? It only makes it hurt worse. The only time I don’t feel anything is when I’m hunting them down. When I’m beating the shit out of them. When I’m making them pay. There’s no anger, no sadness, not even happiness that I’m hurting them. There’s nothing. Do you get that?”

  She nodded, her eyes bright with tears again.

  “I’m clearheaded and calm when I’m working. Focused. I need it. Because to be honest, I would be fine living the rest of my life without feeling anything ever again.”

  “Don’t say that,” she said, shaking her head.

  “It’s true. I probably sound like a melodramatic asshole, but I mean it.” We stood there for a second. “God, you’re worse than Caine,” I said.

  “Well. We both care about you. Maybe that’s something worth thinking about. If something happened to you, it would mess both of us up pretty badly.”

  “Don’t.”

  “Don’t what?”

  “Play the guilt card. Don’t do that.”

  “It’s called friendship, Jolene. Look it up sometime,” she muttered. We started walking again, making our way into the residency wing and toward the dining hall. I really didn’t feel like eating now but I knew I should at least try to. I was dropping weight too quickly and I wanted to make sure I was at peak condition to fight. And I seemed to be getting at least some of my reflexes back, when I was fighting, at least. It hadn’t carried over into normal life so far.

  As if any part of our life here at Command is normal.

  We turned the corner toward the dining hall and Jenson stopped short. Up ahead, waiting for the elevator, there was a guy with dark wavy hair and a muscular form, wearing an impeccable dark blue suit. He wore glasses and stood there, posture straight, looking ahead.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” Jenson said, and I stared at her, surprised by the absolute rage in her voice. She was having a majorly emotional day, at least as far as Jenson is concerned. The guy at the elevator turned at the sound of her voice and seemed to sigh. He didn’t seem surprised to see her, or at her less-than-pleased greeting.

  “James? Answer,” she said, stalking toward him. I followed, because if she needed back up, she’d have it. And yeah, I wondered how somebody I’d never seen before had made it into the residency tower.

  “I assume you heard that the Tribunal was sending a representative for oversight as part of the deal for figuring out what to do about your prisoners,” he said in a deep voice. I glanced between him and Jenson. The tension there between the two of them was almost a physical thing. And more. It felt like there were eons of history in the meeting of their eyes.

  “We still have several weeks before we turn them over. That was the agreement,” she said stiffly.

  “And I am aware of that, but leadership of the Tribunal decided that it might not be a bad idea to send someone now and get this process moving. The meeting is taking place tomorrow.”

  I wanted to ask what the hell he was talking about. Tomorrow? They’d been moving like slugs on the Alpha issue from the beginning and now all of a sudden they were in a hurry? But I didn’t have a chance, because Jenson was still laying into him.

  “So they just coincidentally send you,” Jenson said. Her tone was frigid, her entire body radiating ‘I am going to rip your balls off.’

  I crossed my arms and watched the new guy. James.

  “Of course it wasn’t a coincidence. I asked to come.”

  Jenson was about to say something and he held a placating hand up. She clamped her mouth shut. “You have interests here. From what I understand, you and Daystar are close friends,” he said, giving me a small glance and a nod of greeting. I didn’t respond.

  “And?” Jenson demanded.

  James sighed. “She’s being investigated by the Tribunal.”

  “What?”

  James glanced at me again. “You didn’t hear this from me, understand?”

  I nodded, but Jenson just stared at him.

  “We got a tip that you blew up a factory that belonged to the villain known as Dr. Death. And that, more than that, he has not been seen since around the time his facility was destroyed.”

  “And who gave you that tip?”

  “It was anonymous,” he said. “But the Tribunal hears things, you know? Rumors about you having been a burglar. Rumors about you destroying property, losing control of your powers. Rumors about you stealing money from Alpha after imprisoning him here.”

  Jenson and I stayed silent. James looked at Jenson. “I don’t know whether any of that is true or not. Okay? All I need to know is that you’re close to her. Even if she did those things, you wouldn’t align yourself with anyone who’s evil. It’s not in you. So yeah, I’m going on faith here. Do I have any reason at all not to do that?” he asked Jenson, and the intimacy, the soft tone his voice took made me feel like I should probably leave. And I would have, except for the fact that Jenson wasn’t happy to see him and I wasn’t leaving her unless she wanted me to.

  “That still doesn’t explain why you’re here,” Jenson said flatly.

  “Having an investigator who’s on your side is a handy thing.”

  Jenson glared up at him. He stood a good foot or so taller than Jenson. She’s not tall as it is, and he was a big guy, so she looked even tinier, but it didn’t seem to matter when she glared at him like that. “And I suppose you’re just doing this out of the goodness of your heart, huh? You don’t expect anything at all in return.”

  “I owe you a debt. This is a way I can repay it.”

  “There is no making up what you did to me,�
� she said quietly, and it took everything in me not to hit the guy. I didn’t know what he’d done, but I didn’t like that edge of sadness in Jenson’s voice.

  “I can keep trying, though. You don’t think I know I messed up? I know. And I’ll do everything I can to try to make it up to you. I know I can’t. But I can at least help you when you need it. And you need it, Karen.”

  You could have knocked me over with a feather.

  “I’m Jenson,” she said icily. “Try to remember it.”

  He glanced at me. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Damn it.”

  “We need it, because?” she pressed after a tense moment.

  “Because there are some that want to take Daystar in. All of their personality profiles or whatever the hell they do indicate that she’s a threat,” he said, glancing at me again. “They’re strongly considering intervening before it comes to that.”

  “And you’re going to try to convince them otherwise?” I asked him.

  James nodded. “The Tribunal is antiquated. Afraid of their own shadow. I don’t know whether you’ve done what they say you have. I do know what kind of garbage Dr. Death is. If he’s gone, I don’t mourn him. And I can only guess that whatever was in that facility is something that would have been dangerous to a whole lot of people. I also think there are some things you can’t do wearing a costume with every camera in the world trained on you. I know a bit about black ops. Ask Jenson.”

  Jenson sneered. “Yeah. You know a whole lot about it, don’t you?”

  He didn’t answer, just kept his eyes on hers. “I’m here. I’ll stay out of your way. I’ll submit my reports indicating that everything is normal here and I believe Daystar is nothing more than the hero she seems to be. I’m going to be added to the regular patrol schedule—“

  “You have powers?” I asked.

  He nodded. “I can freeze things with a touch.”

  I glanced at Jenson, who gave me a look. “Sometimes our powers suit our personality perfectly,” she said. Then she looked back at James. “You will stay out of my way.”

  “I will.”

  She turned away and headed toward the dining hall, and I followed. It was empty, which was a good thing. I had a feeling that if she was going to talk, she wouldn’t want anyone else around. Hell, I didn’t even know if she’d talk to me about this. I dished up a big bowl of double chocolate ice cream and grabbed some water, then glanced back at Jenson, who was adding more pasta to the already-mountainous pile on her plate.

  “You want anything to drink?” I asked.

  “Coke is great. Thanks,” she said. I added a can to my tray and carried it all over to one of the tables in the corner, away from the buffet and the door. After a few moments, she joined me and sat down in the seat across from mine. We both dug in and ate in silence for a while. Eventually, she started fiddling with her food.

  “We don’t have to talk about this now,” I said.

  She shrugged. “Honestly, I meant to bring it up a few times, especially when you were going through all that with Killjoy, but then after everything else, it just never seemed like the right time.”

  I took another bite of food, waiting patiently.

  “So, I told you before that I was almost married once,” she said quietly, and I nodded. “You can probably figure out who it was now that I almost married.”

  “James,” I murmured, and she nodded.

  She took a breath. “He was my C.O. when I was in the Army,” she began. “There were sparks from the first time we were in the same room. We had a lot in common, and I think, maybe, we saw a lot of ourselves in each other. Of course, that kind of thing isn’t allowed in general, and definitely not when it’s the Berets.”

  I stared. “You were a Green Beret?”

  She nodded. “We did a good job of keeping it a secret, I think. I already had my powers when I signed up. I didn’t bother stating it, because compared to what else is out there, my powers aren’t all that exciting. And I always had good control,” she added. “Our unit got involved in an area that was under constant threat by militants. Too many of our own people dying, too, trying to end the carnage. James and I were sitting up one night away from everyone else, and he told me what he could do. And it felt like one more sign that we were perfect for one another. He’d already asked me to marry him, and I’d already accepted, and it was just kind of too perfect, that we’d been keeping theses powers from another, but we didn’t have anything to fear.”

  She took another bite, chewed, swallowed. “It got bad. We found a couple more of us who had gotten our powers in the first Confluence. And we started having thoughts. We could go in. Take out the leadership. And the conflict would end,” she said quietly. “We succeeded at three missions. I think maybe we got cocky. The final one, we were going after a major warlord. I was supposed to split up and keep our perimeter secure. James would handle the guards. We had someone who could make force fields to protect any of us who might be in danger. And we had a mind controller.” She paused. “We never actually pulled a trigger. All we had to do was convince the person we were targeting to handle it on their own. Very efficient. Anyway, there we were. I had the perimeter secure, and James and the others were getting into position. And then the Marines showed up. They were there for their own special ops mission. And they saw multiples of me and figured out pretty quickly what it meant. They took me into custody, and I was court-martialed and sentenced to two years prison time. Dishonorably discharged.” She shook her head. “James never lifted a finger. Refused to risk the career he was so in love with to serve as a witness on my behalf. He ended up throwing me under the bus, claiming that it was all my idea and that the rest of them felt they had to go along with it. Denied having powers, and nobody could prove otherwise.”

  “But you told the leadership out their powers, right?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “We don’t out our own. I’ve never believed in that, not even then.”

  I didn’t know what to say. The first thing I would have done would have been to throw James and the others under the bus, especially after they testified against her.

  “You still loved him?” I asked.

  “No. The second I heard him start talking on the stand, anything I still felt kind of burned away. He’s not worthy of my love, or my sadness or anything else. But I won’t lie and say that I would’t like to get his dick in a vise.”

  I laughed.

  “Karen O”Donnelly, by the way,” she said, sticking her hand out. I shook it with a nod.

  “Who’s Jenson?”

  She grinned. “My imaginary friend from when I was little. She kept me company during some lonely times, and I thought about her a lot when I was in prison. When I got out and it was time to re-invent myself and start fresh, it was the name I wanted to be known as.”

  “Then that’s what I’ll keep calling you, even though I think Karen O’Donnelly was a pretty badass bitch as well,” I said. “And I’m sorry about that shit earlier. You are my friend and I adore you. I don’t want to make you feel helpless or worried or whatever—“

  “And I have no right to tell you how to grieve,” he said, waving it off. “We’re good. And I know it was a low blow to use your friendships with Caine and me to try to get you to do what I wanted. I’m sorry about that.”

  “So should we trust that James won’t throw us all under the bus now?” I asked.

  “Nope,” she said, digging into her pasta again. “I’m going to watch that asshole like a hawk.”

  Chapter Eleven

  The next morning, I sat beside Jenson in the first row of the meeting room off of the Command lobby, right at the edge of the dais. Ryan sat beside me, looking around as if waiting for trouble to strike. None of us liked this, having all of these people on our home turf and given such short notice of their invasion. Members of the news media lined the two side walls of the meeting room, as well as the first several rows of seats across the aisle from us.

  For our part, Str
ikeForce had shown up in our full masks and uniforms, forming a solid block of gray and black in the first three rows on our side of the room. A glance around showed that every single one of us was tense, even Monster and Lindsey, who hadn’t even been involved in the whole Alpha fiasco, let alone what had come after. The Tribunal did things this way: publicly, trying to be as transparent as possible to reassure the non-powered population that we weren’t such a big threat.

  “Here they come,” Ryan said quietly as he leaned closer to me. I turned my head and, sure enough, seconds later the Tribunal, dressed in their customary white uniforms, filed into the room. Cameras started flashing, and the room went silent as the Tribunal members took their seats. I recognized all five of them from watching CNN, and then reading up on them after James had told us they’d be popping in for this little inquisition.

  The two on the left were the eldest members of the Tribunal. Jayhawk was a large man in his mid-forties, I guessed, built like a linebacker with longish brown hair and a rather full beard. He could fly, I remembered. Beside him was Ms. Thunder, who basically hit stuff really hard. I rather liked her. She was around forty, with deep, lustrous brown skin that contrasted beautifully with the stark white uniform she wore. Her hair formed a dark halo around her head. She didn’t bother with a mask. That was rare, and I both respected and feared for her because of it. At the other end of the table was Fireball, who (duh) could make and throw fire. She was a tall, thin woman with hair that was almost pure white, though she couldn’t have been older than fifty or so. Beside her was Blademaster, who, as far as I knew, was just a freakishly good swordsman. And in the center was the lead Inquisitor, Eve, who had platinum blond hair, icy blue eyes, and the single best example of resting bitch face I’ve ever seen. She held her head high, as if she’d smelled something bad. She reminded me of the mean girls I’d known in high school, which may have been unfair, but I guess we all have our prejudices.

  Once they were settled, Eve rapped a gavel on a small wood block on the table in front of her, and the room settled into silence once again.