Amy shut the door to her office, and the captain’s presence dominated the small, windowless room. She leaned against the door, watching him sit in one of the chairs in front of her desk. She took a deep breath and sat down. “What can I help you with?”
Captain Starblast looked at her for a few seconds. “I want to speak with you about Jack McClennan.”
Tremors raced up her spine, and she moved her hands to her lap, wiping her palms on her pants. “Oh?”
He leaned forward. “I’ve recently gotten information linking you to him. I don’t want to arrest him,” he said quickly. “I just want to talk.”
Amy sat back in her chair, silently grateful for any distance she could put between them. Her hands balled in her lap as anger fought with panic for room in her heart. “Now you’re interested in him? When he was arrested, he came to you for help, and all you did was kill any chance he had of clearing himself.”
She bit back the rest of what she wanted to say. If that outburst didn’t tell him everything he wanted to know, she didn’t know what would. If she’d had her gun handy, she’d shoot the bastard.
The captain closed his eyes for a moment. “I did what I felt was right at the time. I was wrong and that was an unforgivable error on my part. Is there anything you can tell me?”
“I’ve heard he’s in hiding. Beyond that, I don’t know anything.”
Captain Starblast stood and handed her a business card. “If you should remember anything at all that can help me, or better yet, help Jack, call the hot line number.”
Amy slowly rose to her feet. If she didn’t know better, she’d swear her words had hurt him. “I’ll do what I can to help you, Captain. I just don’t know what to say.”
He walked to the door and turned. “When you see him, tell him I’m on his side and always have been.” He gave her a small smile. “I’m still his friend, whether he thinks so or not.”
After he left, Amy laid her head on the desk. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart. “When will this be over?” she muttered.
****
Jack opened his eyes and saw Cyber-X sitting next to him. Instinctively, he reached for his gun, groaning when the movement hurt. Soft sheets pressed into his skin. Where’s my armor?
“That’ll teach you to jump to conclusions.”
“I feel like hell.” Jack rolled his head back and forth, trying to ease the stiffness in his neck. “Where am I?”
“You’re in my HQ, otherwise known as my house. You’ve been out for a couple of days. What’d they do to you?”
He took a deep breath. “Cybernetic scrambler. Every circuit in my body feels fried.” He slowly lifted his right hand to his neck and found the device gone. “Where is it?”
Cyber-X grinned. “It’s in pieces on my work bench. I wasn’t sure if taking it off would kill you or not, so I decided to risk it. Seems you’ll live.”
Jack groaned again. “Don’t be too sure.” He tried lifting his left arm. “I can’t move.”
“I shut down your systems. I’ll reconnect you now that you’re back in the land of the living.”
Jack sighed. “I think I’ll pretend I’m dead. It’s got to feel better than this.” He closed his eyes, surprised his eyelids didn’t hurt.
****
He’d been in bed a week and couldn’t stand it anymore. Jack threw off the covers, standing on shaky legs. Cyber-X came in, shaking his head as he watched his “patient” try to cross the room.
“Get back in that bed,” the mercenary ordered.
Jack took a few more staggering steps. “I can’t. Just give me my gear, and I’ll get out of your hair.”
“And watch you collapse on my floor?” Cyber-X shook his head. “You’ve had all your internals rearranged.”
Jack tried to call on his anger for strength, but his body refused to listen to him. “Damn it, give me my gear.” His people needed to hear from him.
Cyber-X strode across the room, putting Jack’s arm over his shoulders. “You can barely stand. You’re in no shape to leave, yet.”
“You don’t understand,” Jack said, breathing heavily. He pressed his hand over his eyes as his vision swam.
Jack sagged against Cyber-X as his legs gave out. The mercenary dragged him to the bed and got him settled. “Now stay put!”
“Like I’ve got a choice?” he whispered. He listened to Cyber-X stomp to the other room. When did I get this ability to make people shout?
****
Jack tossed and turned in the grip of yet another nightmare. He was falling...and hit the floor in a tangle of sheets and blankets. His eyes began their familiar ache and his throat tightened. He shook his head as memories of his wife, bleeding and dying as he held her, ripped through him.
Cyber-X padded into the room and saw him sitting on the floor, holding his head in his hands. “You all right?”
“Bad dreams.” Jack looked up at him. “What time is it?”
“Around two in the morning.” Cyber-X stood in front of him. “It’s been another week. Feeling any better?”
Jack levered himself onto the bed. “Some. I’m sore and bone tired. I’m going to ask one more time. Where’s my gear?”
The mercenary shook his head. “I still don’t think you’ll get very far.”
Jack pushed himself upright and braced his hand against the wall until his head stopped swimming. “It doesn’t matter. Look, you did me a favor. Let me do you one and leave.”
Cyber-X just stared at him. “Why? I’ve been told, time and time again, you’re a cold, ruthless, killing machine, but the more we fight, the more I’m having trouble believing it. You’ve had plenty of opportunities to kill me and my partner, but you always found another way. Again, why?”
“ULTRA has a telepath tracking me,” he said, ignoring the question. “If they trace me here and find you’re helping me, it’s going to get ugly.”
Cyber-X started to reply, then hesitated. He stared at Jack for a few seconds and finally nodded. “I’ll get your gear.”
Jack stared out the window, the nightmare dwelling on his brain. In it, Misty had betrayed him to ULTRA. Would she do it for real? He laid his head against the glass, grateful for its coolness, wishing answers would come to him.
Cyber-X laid his armor and weapons on the bed. Jack suited up, closing his eyes as dizziness overwhelmed him, again. All he wanted was to lay down, but he needed to check in with his team. He checked his guns and glanced at the mercenary.
Jack walked to the door and turned. “Thanks for the help.” He gave the mercenary a slight nod, knowing he wouldn’t be followed.
He stumbled to the street and signaled his van’s tracking device. Sweat poured down his back and beaded on his forehead. His breath came out in ragged gasps. “Just hang on a little longer,” he muttered. The van soon pulled up, and he climbed in and programmed the warehouse as his destination. “You’ll be home soon enough.”
He dozed off and on for the whole trip and soon, the van pulled in and parked next to his Chevy as the bay door closed with a soft hiss. He staggered out, stripping off weapons and armor, and headed for the living area. The last piece hit the floor with a clang and he fell on the couch, wondering how he’d made it home at all.
Chapter Thirteen
Fenmore sat at his private table in his favorite Greek restaurant. His stomach growled as he smelled yet another dinner, and his mouth watered from the spicy aroma wafting toward him. He’d already been there for thirty minutes, and still no Donald. He frowned. Donald Harrington hadn’t been on time in all the years they’d worked together.
A hand clapped him on the shoulder as Harrington sat down. “Sorry I’m late George. I got delayed.”
I wonder who she was this time. George supposed women would find him attractive. The sandy-haired man was several years younger than him, with bright blue eyes and sharp features. He mentally shrugged. None of that was really his business. “No matter. You’re here now.”
Harrington picked up the m
enu. “What’s the problem? You said it was urgent.”
Fenmore folded his hands on the table. “I’m having trouble getting my hands on Scavenger. The Council is getting impatient for results.” He reached for the delicate goblet in front of him, the white wine sparkling in the low light. “Even the ULTRA commander is getting antsy with waiting.”
Harrington laid the menu off to the side. “The Leaders said you had Scavenger and lost him. Any luck finding out who took him?”
“No.” Fenmore scowled. “Those fools under my command can’t do one thing right, and I don’t have time to hold their hands on every operation. I’ve incorporated a telepathic tracker from HelixCorp. She’s with ULTRA right now for training. The girl is young but has demonstrated an incredible amount of power. We think she uses empathy when she mind scans.”
Harrington drummed his fingers on the table. “Has she tracked him, yet?”
“Yes,” Fenmore said. “She led us to an apartment complex a couple of weeks ago. One of our agents said he stopped a young woman leaving the area, and he let her go without a vehicle search or even getting her name.”
Fenmore shook his head. That agent had been dealt with severely. “This is the kind of incompetence I’ve been dealing with.” He paused, getting himself under control. “The telepath, Mindspell, scanned the apartment and found psychic residue indicating the woman had been there with him.”
Harrington rubbed his chin. “It would appear Jack has an accomplice.”
Fenmore tossed back the rest of his wine. “And I need help with Mindspell. I know she hasn’t had any field experience, but she always seems to just miss him.”
“I see. So he might have two accomplices then.” Harrington smiled unpleasantly. “I’ll take care of your telepath. At least she’s where we can keep an eye on her.”
Fenmore knew all about how Donald took care of his agents. “Don’t mark her. That idiot in charge of ULTRA doesn’t know I’ve taken her into the field.”
Harrington nodded. “Don’t worry, George. She’ll be fine.”
****
Jack grimaced as a whistle screamed through his already pounding skull. He was in his bed with a glass of water and a bottle of aspirin on the nightstand beside him. Shaking four tablets into his hand, he drained the whole thing. The whistling stopped, and he tensed as footsteps approached.
“You look like hell,” Frank said, placing a mug in his hands.
“Nice to see you too.” He scowled. “Just because I’m from England doesn’t mean I like tea.”
Frank grinned. “Stop with the face, already. There’s some of your best whiskey in it. It’ll help you relax.”
Jack eyed the cup and took a small swallow. He sighed, drinking more as tension left his muscles.
Frank dragged a chair over to the bedside. “You going to clue me in on where you’ve been the past two weeks?”
Jack stared at the cup in his hands. “Fenmore caught me. Remember those prototype rifles? They’re not prototypes anymore and his troops are armed with them. They’ve got augmented armor, too.”
Frank sat back. “You’re kidding, right?”
“I wish I was,” Jack said, shaking his head. “He hit me with a cybernetic scrambler. I was out before I hit the ground.” He looked up at his friend. “I don’t know how he did it, but Cyber-X freed me. I’ve been with him. He took that thing off me and helped me get back on my feet enough to get home.”
Frank rubbed his chin. “Why would the mercenary who’s hunting you want to rescue you?”
Jack could only shrug. That was a question he’d like the answer to, also.
“Close one that time.” Frank laid his hand on Jack’s shoulder. “Get some rest. I’ll be here.”
****
Frank sat back in the chair by the bed and watched Jack slide down to settle himself in a more comfortable sleeping position, his eyes drifting closed as he nodded off.
Shadows grew long and darkness settled into the far corners of the warehouse as the sun slid behind tall buildings in the neighborhood. Frank turned on the bathroom light and closed the door until just a sliver spilled into the bedroom. He wandered to the living room, turning on the table lamps as he headed for the kitchen.
He fished his cell phone out of his pants pocket. Flipping it open, he hit the speed dial for Amy. She’d been beside herself with worry. How could things go to hell so quickly for them? He shook his head. It had all started with that damn NewsLine broadcast. He gave her a quick update, speaking in hushed tones so he wouldn’t wake Jack. He flipped the phone shut and stared at Jack’s desk and the CD laying on top.
Frank viewed the CD Amy had burned at ULTRA and knew Jack’s suspicions had been right about Rena. But his friend had bigger problems than one lone telepathic tracker. Could he pretend ignorance about Rena and Misty until the truth came out?
Frank had caught sight of the heroes at one point and followed them, hoping they’d lead him to Jack. He’d tailed them to ULTRA, then to Challengers HQ. Why would they want to hear what that back-stabber, Captain Starblast, had to say? But they’d never led him to the man he’d been searching for.
Frank had wanted to eliminate the two of them, to protect his friend and the rest of the team. He’d pushed his combat instincts aside, forcing himself to observe only. It wouldn’t look good to have such a young and beautiful woman cut down and his friend would’ve been upset if Misty were harmed on his behalf. The grizzled agent thought about the computer disc. Then again, he might agree when he saw the data it contained.
Frank stared at the cabinets before opening them. He made a sandwich, thinking over the past two decades. The young Brit was brash and headstrong and Frank had taken to looking after him in his first year in ULTRA. Frank had been a veteran of paranormal skirmishes and showed the rookie the ropes. It wasn’t too long after that Jack became his field commander.
Then Jack had been arrested, jailed, beaten, and finally escaping to live on the run for the past ten years. The renegade agent had gathered the team around him and supported them when they’d gone into hiding. Frank watched him organize, equip, and build a network that ran through the whole city.
“Fifteen years older than he is, and I’m like a naive schoolboy,” Frank mumbled. “How can a man be so old and so young at the same time?”
****
“I need a vacation,” Amy mumbled. Her hands had taken on a life of their own, constantly shaking. “I’m sick to death of heroes, villains, and this damn subterfuge.” She slammed her purse into her desk drawer. “I need a vacation.”
When Captain Starblast sat in her office, she’d almost come clean, telling him everything they’d been through, after initially wanting to shoot him. Her supervisor had questioned her about the recent influx of people asking for her. If the clean ULTRA was getting suspicious, the corrupt circle wouldn’t be far behind.
“Amy, there’re some people here to see you,” the desk agent called.
“Not again,” she whispered. Sweat rolled down her back and, standing on shaky legs, she went to see who was at the front counter. She stopped, seeing Misty and Rena from the Angels team standing there.
“Can I help you?” she asked, surprised her voice didn’t waver. Great! More heroes.
Misty smiled. “We’re working on a few cases and this agent said you were the one to see because of how much you know about the files in here.”
Amy held onto the door frame. She took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. For a minute, she thought they were here to talk about Jack. “Come into my office, and I’ll see if I can help you.
Amy shut the door and gestured to the chairs in front of her desk. “Won’t you please sit down?”
Amy watched as Misty looked around her office. She was used to the reaction. The small room was painted an ugly green, and it felt smaller than it was because of the filing cabinets lining the walls and her desk. There were closets bigger than this place.
When the Angels settled themselves, Misty leaned for
ward. “I need to ask you about someone you may or may not know.”
Amy had almost relaxed, but Misty’s statement started her nerves jangling all over again. Her hands trembled, and she folded them on top of her desk, determined not to let them rattle her. “Who?”
“His name is Taylor Tremain,” Misty said. “He has a scar down the left side of his face, wears an eye-patch, and has long red hair. When I was with him several weeks ago, I heard him talking about ULTRA to someone named Amy. Do you know him?”
“Has he done something illegal? Unless there’s a file on him, I don’t think I can help you.”
Misty shook her head. “No. It’s a personal matter. Nothing you say goes beyond the two of us.”
Amy studied them. Any decision she made could be wrong and the end of everything they worked for, including their lives. The look on Misty’s face made up her mind.
“I believe you,” she said. “But I’m not sure I trust you yet, and I don’t want to get into it here.” She wrote on a small piece of paper and pushed it across the desk. “Meet me here at eight tonight. There are a lot of lives at stake, not just his. I’ll tell you what I can, but no more.”
“Good enough,” Misty said. “We’ll see you then.” The Angels stood and walked to the door.
Amy stared at the door after they left. Frank wasn’t going to like this, and when he told Jack, the sparks were going to fly. What the hell was I thinking?
She sat silently, feeling tears run down her face. “Let me have made the right call,” she whispered.
****
Misty and Rena stood outside the small brick restaurant at seven forty five that evening. Summer had finally arrived in full force and they could feel the heat rolling off the building. Huge pots overflowed with colorful petunias and neon signs blinked from the windows. The door stood open, music and laughter drifting to them.
Rena glanced at Misty. “Is this it?”
“This is it,” Misty said. “It’s not exactly what I was expecting.”
Rena turned to her. “After this meeting, things are going to change, aren’t they?”
Misty worried when she heard none of Rena’s usual humor. “Yeah and I have no idea what’s going to happen. Thanks for being here with me.”
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