The Face of a Rogue

by L T Anderson

  “You didn’t see the half of it. When the Punks kicked me out, I was devastated. I hated the Changers for what they did to me and for what they do to the Bystanders. Then, I tried to kill Levi. But I even failed at that.”

  Curtis stood agape.

  “Then, along came Felix. He saved me from those bastards. He reversed the Change.” She quickly swiped a single tear before it dropped. “And I was so happy because I could be me.”

  “You said you didn’t need me…”

  “I was wrong. I loved you, Curtis, and I couldn’t wait to tell you.” She turned her head away. “But you’re a Changer.”

  “Tell me now, babe.” Tears welled in Curtis’s eyes. “Tell me you love me.”

  She looked directly into his eyes. “You’re in Levi’s inner circle?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then I don’t love you, Curtis. You’re not the man I once loved.”

  Curtis stood tall. His grip on the cell bars turned his knuckles white. He looked Krystal up and down. “So what? Kill me now?”

  “For the love we once had, I’m not giving the kill order. I’m going to have you escorted outside the Wall.”

  Curtis’s eyes hardened. “Just like that?”

  Krystal glanced at the door down the hallway. “Guards!”

  The two Punk guards entered quickly and stopped between Curtis and Krystal.

  “Escort this man to the nearest walk-through. Put him outside the Wall and lock the gate behind him.”

  Krystal stepped back when the guards opened the door.

  Curtis didn’t resist as the guards guided him under both arms down the hallway.

  She turned and gazed at his back, his disheveled homeless guy clothes and his Mohawk-free head as he walked away.

  When the door closed she leaned against the wall and took a deep breath. As she exhaled, she slid down the wall and sat on the floor, knees up. She no longer tried to hold back the flood. Her head dropped into her hands. And she cried. Hard.

  Ten minutes later she heard the muted sound of the heavy steel walk-through gate slam shut. She wiped her face with both hands and stood.

  All four Punk guards were outside the door to the lockup building when she walked outside. “Heads up, guys,” she said. “Gonna be cold again tonight.” She buttoned up and strode confidently down the lighted walkway toward Punk headquarters. Her leather duster whipped randomly, furling and unfurling like a black flag.

  Chapter 39

  Exit

  Levi pressed a button on the table in the conference room adjacent to the War Room on Level Ten in the Underground. “Hold all correspondence until further notice.”

  A soothing female voice sounded from the ceiling speaker. “Yes, Leader.”

  He surveyed the Changers seated around the room. Twelve high-ranking military officials were seated at the table. Their midnight-blue uniforms were pressed. Every hair on their heads was in place, slicked back behind their ears. Levi smiled. “I trust everyone enjoyed a restful night’s sleep.”

  Silver sat comfortably to Levi’s right. “Dr. Rasmus, do we have an ETA for Mr. Dyer?”

  Xander checked his cell. “Approximately an hour.” He looked up at Silver. “I’d give him thirty minutes after arrival to freshen up before we see him.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Silver said. “I would say that gives us time to view the unearthing of that dreadful earthworm, Dr. Yaz.”

  “Splendid idea, Ms. Long,” Levi said. He nodded at Johnny. “Mr. Logan, please activate the appropriate surveillance monitors.”

  Johnny used a remote control to manipulate three curved screens on the wall above the corner wet bar. “You can see the security team in real time on Level Three right now. They are all wearing body cams. We can switch between any one of ten cameras to get the best view.”

  “So what are we looking at now?” Levi said.

  “At this very moment, they are moving toward an innocuous door in Corridor 3-101. As you know, this is the corridor leading to the Executive Parking Receiving Room.”

  “I see the door,” Levi said. “Wire-mesh protection?” He looked at Silver. “I find it hard to believe Dr. Yaz is behind that door, Ms. Long.”

  Silver smiled. “Wait for it, Leader.”

  Felix stood in front of the monitor walls in his quarters. He stared calmly at monitor one as he tightened a screw on a cell-phone-sized metal box. He watched the armed Changer guards use a set of bolt cutters to snap the lock across the wire-mesh door. He looked down momentarily at the metal box. A red LED displayed a set of numbers adjacent to a small touch pad. Felix tapped the touch pad, then looked back up at the monitor.

  The guards had breached the door and were quickly moving single file down a darkened hallway. Lights on the guards’ helmets shone on a solid unmarked door at the end of the tight corridor.

  Felix picked up another metal box, identical to the first, from the table in front of him. He placed a panel over one side of the second box and tightened the screws on the panel into the box. The LED on the second box flashed identical numbers, matching the first. Felix repeated this routine—programming seven boxes—as he kept one eye on the monitor.

  The guards didn’t bother to try unlocking the door. They used a small explosive device to blow the handle off the door. It swung it open, revealing the tiny utility room. The lead guard stepped forward and opened the locker on the wall. He pulled a small electronic code scanner from his utility belt and placed it against the warranty sticker. Green LED numbers on the scanner flashed in seemingly random order.

  Felix picked up one of the small metal boxes and walked across the room to his transportation cube. He stepped inside and placed the box on the back wall. He tapped a button on the box, and the LED numbers began to scroll, descending from three minutes in one-second increments. Before exiting the cube, he opened a panel on the opposite wall and manipulated a small keypad inside. He closed the panel and glanced at monitor wall one, closing the transportation cube’s door behind him.

  The lead guard stepped back from the locker and motioned to two guards behind him. “No code. Blow it.”

  The two guards moved to the back wall of the utility room and placed explosive devices around the locker, inside and out. “Clear!” All ten guards retreated quickly back down the narrow hallway.

  Felix stepped up to the electronic console in front of the monitor walls and tapped the keyboard. He nodded once when he heard the transport cube hum to life behind him.

  The explosive devices around the locker detonated, destroying the locker and exposing the tunnel. The Changer security guards moved down the hallway and into the tunnel. The metal passageway echoed the cadence of their boots as they ran two abreast toward the doctor’s quarters.

  Felix turned to his right and fastened the latches on a briefcase-sized box. He unplugged numerous tubes and wires from the box and let them drop to the floor. Inside the box was a DNA storage and data extraction device containing all the information currently in the Changers’ possession. He must guard this device with his life.

  The lead Changer guard in the tunnel held up a hand, stopping the others. He listened intently and turned to the guard next to him. “Do you hear that—”

  The empty transportation cube rounded the curve in front of the guards. The speed of the cube allowed approximately point one second for the guards to react. The impact on the first four guards was swift and fatal. The speeding metal box pushed the four bodies into the other guards and swept them—arms and legs flailing—back into the utility room. When the cube came to a rest, only the three guards at the rear were able to stand on their own. They quickly felt for pulses and assessed the damage. Four dead. Three with broken limbs, one soaking the leg of his pants with blood from a large gash on his inner thigh.

  The new lead guard’s headset lay shattered on the floor. He yanked one from an injured guard’s helmet. “Break, break, break! Security Base One, Security Base One. Thi
s is Unit 1008. Medical emergency at Level Three, Corridor 3-101, 100 yards south of Executive Parking Receiving. Also, send ten backup.”

  A calm male voice replied. “10-4, Unit 1008. Medics and backup are en route.”

  Silver and Levi stood quickly from the conference table in the War Room. Xander sat stunned. Johnny smiled inside and shook his head. The military brass at the table remained seated and did their best to maintain their composure.

  “Long!” Levi shouted. “Why was the security team not advised of this?”

  Silver placed her hands on her hips. “There’s no way I could have known Yaz would do something like this. It does prove he has been located, Leader.”

  Levi whipped his head around to Silver. “How many of these weapons does he have?”

  “That wasn’t a weapon. That’s a transportation module, like an elevator car. To my knowledge it’s the only one.” She looked at Xander. “Get word to the backup team that Yaz only had one of those weapons. All systems are go again.”

  Levi looked back at the monitors over the bar. “You’d best hope so. The reinforcements are on their way now.”

  The three remaining guards waited among the carnage. One guard applied pressure to the gaping wound on his partner’s thigh.

  The LED numbers on the steel box inside the transportation cube reached zero. The cube exploded, sending shards of hot metal, and body parts from the remaining guards, into Corridor 3-101.

  The ten backup guards stopped their steady trot toward the entrance to the small side hallway. The lead guard spoke into his mic. “Security Base One, Security Base One. This is Unit 2001.”

  “Base One. Go ahead, 2001.”

  “We’re going in. Send the coroner and a cleanup detail. Everyone here is dead.”

  “10-4, 2001.”

  Felix eyed monitor wall one. I have given myself enough time. He placed the briefcase next to the teleportation wall and turned back to the room. He sighed and walked to his bedroom entrance. He placed one of the six remaining metal boxes onto the doorframe, set the timer, then turned to the bar. He placed another box on one of the two barstools. When he was done placing the devices around the room, he walked toward the teleportation wall. He stopped momentarily and tapped the keyboard.

  The ten Changer security guards rounded the final corner and trotted down the last metal hallway toward Felix’s quarters.

  Felix picked up the briefcase and turned around to face the room.

  The ten guards were at the entrance. Two guards in the front of the group knelt and drew their weapons, pointed at Felix. The two in the next row remained standing and fixed their guns on the banished doctor.

  Felix leaned backward.

  The room flashed white simultaneously in six places.

  Four shots from the Changer guards sounded as one.

  The eminent Dr. Felix Yaz fell through the teleportation wall. The six white flashes merged, engulfing the room and blowing the glass ceiling out into the clear crisp desert sky.

  Chapter 40

  Payback Time

  Compared to the throng that usually participated in Dion’s group meetings in the Punks’ main conference room, this crowd was small. But it was Krystal’s meeting. With the Punk military fleet severely depleted by the latest battle with the Changers, she had less to work with and fewer tools at her disposal. She chose the best of the organization to step up. And she would demand more from the fewer.

  “Okay, listen up,” Krystal said. “Everyone in here is considered a first level commander. Each of you will have specific responsibilities, and you will all be expected to fulfill your duties for the sake of your teammates and to ensure our success against the Changers.” She gazed at the team of Punks and Rogue Changers seated around the table. “There are no absolutes here. I expect everyone to help anyone where necessary.” She glanced at Winter. “Example. If you have to deviate from your plan, no one thinks better on their feet than Winter. She has a good attitude, and she protects the Punks at all cost. Anyone gets lost in the field, if I’m not available, look to her.”

  Jimbo turned to Winter, and the two bumped fists.

  “All right.” Krystal glanced at the flat-screen monitor on the wall and manipulated the display by remote control. “Everyone check the screen.” She clicked the remote control. “Here is our secondary line of commanders. All of us will need to rely on these teammates for support at some point.”

  The monitor displayed additional members of the Punks’ organization and others, and a short bio below their pictures. The screen showed:

  Will / Adam / Joey / Nico / Lace / Pops / Geezer / Drew / Sydney

  Fred raised a hand. “I don’t recognize two of them. Drew and Sydney.”

  “They’re Bystanders. Two of the only Bystanders we trust. They’re on our side and were instrumental in helping us in the last battle. Ryker and I will contact them.” Her eyes scanned the players seated at the table. “I’m going to make the team assignments quick. I’ll meet with each team and the support players individually, and we’ll have additional group meetings only as necessary.”

  “Thanks, Krys,” Jimbo said. “I hate meetings. I’d just rather get down to business and start kicking some Changer butt.”

  “Agreed,” Krystal said. “Now, down to business. Teams are as follows. One, Ryker and me. Two, Jimbo and Winter. Three, Fred and Thomas.”

  “What about Dion?” Ryker said.

  Krystal walked around the table and stood behind the crew. “Dion is the Punks’ anchor. Always has been. Now look at the map and I’ll show you Dion’s role and why it’s imperative he remain at headquarters for now.” She tapped the remote control and pulled up a display of the North American territory. “The Punks’ organization is divided in three sectors—east, central and west. You all know Dion is the west leader. For Fred and Thomas’s information, there’s never been any official vote, but Dion is the unofficial leader of the three.”

  “How’d that happen?” Thomas said.

  Krystal pulled up pictures and bios of the three sector leaders and positioned them atop their areas of responsibility on the map. She enlarged the center image. “This is Rudie, leader in the central sector. Rudie called on Dion to help defuse an internal uprising among his own members. Several minor factions among the central sector teamed up with the Changers to take over munitions and auto manufacturing plants. Unfortunately, it was a severe Punk-on-Punk war that lasted several months. Courtesy of Dion, the west sector provided a thousand reinforcements to assist Rudie. Dion’s cool head and leadership brought Rudie’s people together, helped them rebuild and establish a sensible chain of command.”

  Krystal enlarged the image on the right side of the map. “This is Jasmine, east sector leader. But don’t call her Jasmine. She goes by Jas. When the central Punks temporarily lost control of the factories, Jas’s crew lost out on several shipments of arms and vehicles. Dion sent hundreds of well-maintained and highly modified replacement trucks while the fighting raged in the central sector. Jas had problems of her own dealing with not only the Changers but belligerent Bystanders who thought they didn’t need Punk protection. The vehicles provided by the west came complete with drivers and weapons—just enough to tide over the east until we restored order in Rudie’s sector. When the dust settled, Dion gifted all the loaners to Jas.”

  Krystal returned the image to size. She tossed the remote onto the conference table and crossed her arms.

  Fred raised a hand. “So what’s this all mean, Krys?”

  She walked around the table and stood beneath the monitor, facing the group. “Dion. We lost over 3,000 troops and more than 1,200 vehicles. We’re still mourning our dead three months later. The Changers are on the verge of overwhelming us with numbers like we’ve never seen before.”

  “That’s a fact,” Jimbo said.

  “What’s your proposal?” Dion said.

  “Contact Rudie and Jas. Initially we’ll need each of the
m to send 2,500 troops. Five thousand will get us set up. We need their best weapons and vehicles, and battle-hardened Punks.”

  Dion stood. “The Changers are moving in their territories, too.”

  “Not like they are here. The west is the Changers’ headquarters in North America. This is where Levi lives. If they win here, the central and east won’t stand a chance anyway.”

  “Sounds like a plan. I’ll see what they say.”

  “I don’t care what they say. Order them. They owe you. It’s payback time.”

  Curtis leaned on his hands against the wall inside the shower enclosure in his quarters. Warm water from eight shower heads caressed his body from multiple directions. He closed his eyes and relived the scene in Old Town. DeMone handled that all wrong. What a disgrace. I’m glad that bitch is gone. He thought about Johnny. Not a great backup. But definitely knows how to follow orders and stay on task. He stood up straight and pressed a button on a waterproof panel. Four shower heads closed off. The remaining four sprayed a soapy solution mixed with disinfectant. Sudsing up, his thoughts turned to Silver. Now there’s a woman who knows her stuff. Our leader fucked up trying to get rid of her. What a leader.

  Curtis closed his eyes again and pressed a hand against the waterproof control panel. He activated the full rinse control. He fought with everything he had to hold back the tears. He squeezed his eyes shut tighter and moved a thumb over the temperature control. The water grew hotter as his thumb rested against the button. Krystal’s words reverberated in his mind. I loved you, Curtis, and I couldn’t wait to tell you. Water from the eight shower heads scalded his skin. Curtis cried. I don’t love you, Curtis. You’re not the man I once loved. He felt the outer layer of his skin—paper-thin tufts—fluttering in the blistering spray. For the love we once had, I’m not giving the kill order. He pounded the panel, stopping the deluge.

  The former Punk moved from the shower into the adjacent drying chamber and supplemented the activity with a small microfiber towel. Stepping into the bedroom, he stopped in front of a full-length mirror. Gray-white blistered remnants of skin speckled the red figure in the mirror. He lowered his head, chin to chest. A vibration began at the soles of his feet and rose quickly, engulfing his body. The mirror flexed. The repercussion shattered the glass shower enclosure—a million tiny beads of safety glass fell to the floor.