Rebel (The Alliance Chronicles Book 4)

by SF Benson

  “Aoki,” Fletcher grumbles from his spot on the ground, “can you stop the pacing? You’re getting on my damned nerves.”

  My feet come to a rest, and I glare at the stern soldier. If he knew what his request costs me, he’d ignore my movement and let me be. Sitting still makes me anxious, and that’s far worse than my maniacal roaming. Especially since I have a weapon.

  I rub my neck and frown. “You want me to stop moving?”

  He nods.

  “Then we go inside,” I spit out and jab my finger toward the door piercing my words. “You back me up in case shit goes down. If you don’t want in, leave me the hell alone.”

  Fletcher shakes his head. “You really are a dumb fuck.”

  My hands clench and I bare my teeth. “Want to repeat yourself?”

  “Take a chill pill, man. I ain’t fighting you. How are you gonna raise a kid when you can’t even control your temper?”

  I press my lips together.

  “Kids work their parents’ nerves. It’s a fact. Right now, you’re letting this situation work yours. Carter ain’t gonna let anything happen to your girl. As far as the other dumb shits in there, they ain’t that stupid.” Fletcher pulls his legs in and rests his elbows on his knees.

  “Still—”

  His brow furrows. “Let. Shit. Rest. Sieben is the head of The Network. He’s not gonna risk his people turning on his ass over a lame move.”

  I lower myself to the ground next to Fletcher. “The man threatened to kill me.”

  “He needed the card. If I were in his shoes, I would have done the same damn thing. There’s a war brewing, kid, like it or not. Decisions have to be made. Sieben did what he thought was right.” Fletcher pats his jacket pockets. His hands still on something crinkling loudly. He pulls a pack of cigarettes from its hiding place. Fletcher removes a slightly crushed cigarette and then offers the pack to me.

  I raise my hand and wave it off. “Naw. I think I’m high-strung enough without that vice.”

  Fletcher laughs and lights up. “Damn right on that one. But I get it. You love your girl. I’d probably be the same way if I had one.”

  The smell of cheap tobacco curls toward my nose. The big manufacturers went out of business after the New Order took over. Second-rate companies began producing crap that smells like burning trash and hooks citizens even faster. Only desperate, poor individuals—soldiers included—continue with the bad habit. I choke back the urge to cough and check out the gray-blue sky. It’ll be dawn soon. We don’t need to be here when the sun rises.

  “So what’s the plan to get out of Canada?” I ask.

  “I’ve already sent the mayday call to Winters.” Fletcher takes a deep drag from the cancer stick.

  “Who’s Winters?”

  Smoke drifts from Fletcher’s lips. “Captain Jones’s grandfather. Actually, it’s his step-grandfather. He has a private jet coming for us. You’ll meet him soon enough. The man has a job for you.”

  My jaw drops. Someone wants to give me a job?

  “Yeah, I’m serious. Winters is a good man to work for. He used to be military. Now, he employs former soldiers—doesn’t matter what branch—to help with missions around the world. I’m on his payroll along with Carter and Niang.”

  Everybody’s got a secret…and a side hustle.

  “But I’m nobody’s soldier,” I contradict.

  “No shit.” Fletcher crushes the barely smoked cigarette on the pavement. “Captain Jones said you’re good with computers. Winters needs an expert in that department. He might get some other shit done if he doesn’t have to figure out codes all day.”

  A regular job.

  I promised Tru a normal life for her and our kid. It doesn’t matter what capacity Winters needs my help. I owe it to my new family to investigate it and try to make it work. Right now, though, I need a nap. I don’t remember the last time I slept.

  My yawning captures Fletcher’s attention. “Why not take advantage of Sieben’s pickup? It ain’t like he’s gonna use it soon. I’ll keep watch. Anything goes down, I’ll let you know.”

  I push myself off the concrete, stretch, and look back to the door of the building.

  Have a little faith in Mark.

  “Yeah, I think I will. Thanks.”

  I wake up with a jolt. My heart slams against my chest, and my legs are itching to move. Someone’s pounding on the glass. I rub my eyes and attempt to focus. When my vision adjusts, I’m surprised to find Mark.

  “What’s going on?”

  “How the hell did you get in there? I know Uncle Leon didn’t leave the keys behind,” Mark lectures.

  I shrug my shoulders. “Hey, when you live on the streets, you get resourceful.”

  Mark’s gaze travels past me and into the back seat covered in glass. “Did you really have to wreck the cab? If you had asked… Never mind. I need your help.”

  I fold my arms over my chest. This scenario is too good for me to pass up. “Well, isn’t this priceless? Your flaky ass needs my help.”

  A wry smile lifts the corners of Mark’s lips. “Okay, Aoki. You can have that one. But I assure you there’s nothing flaky about my ass.” He waggles his eyebrows.

  I face-palm. Why did I open that can of worms again? “What do you want, Carter?”

  “Back to square one I see,” he says, noticing my use of his last name, and exhales loudly. “I need to crack a code on the SIM card.”

  My eyes widen. “You still have it?”

  “Had it,” he corrects. “Uncle Leon has it now. He needs the formula for the vaccine. Once he gets it, we can leave this place.”

  Fletcher walks up to the truck. The stale stink of tobacco enters the cab. “What’s up?”

  “I need Boy Genius here to crack a code,” Mark explains.

  I open the door and get out. “What type of code?”

  “It’s an AR code for Cris Abdullah’s mom,” Mark tells me.

  “You know Riza keeps all the AR codes in R-Net, right?” I glance sideways. The blank look on Mark’s face lets me know this is new info. “Man, I thought you were a computer expert.”

  “Shut the fuck up, Aoki,” Mark enters a series of digits on the keypad, and we enter the building.

  Fletcher and I follow Mark through another secured door before entering a lab. As soon as I step into the room, Tru runs to me. I place my arms around her and hug her tightly. It seems too long since I last did this. I bury my nose in her hair, relishing the moment.

  “Can you two have your reunion at another time?” Mark says sharply. “We have work to do, Aoki.”

  I kiss Tru’s cheek. “Give me a few minutes, babe.”

  Mark thrusts a laptop in my face. “Handle it.”

  He doesn’t know how close he is to a beat down. I take the device and sit beside Tru. “You, okay?”

  “I’m fine.” Her body presses against my side. She rests her chin on my shoulder. “Can you crack the code?”

  “Can you paint a picture?” I ask with a grin on my face. Before logging into the DarkNet, I access the VPN, Virtual Private Network.

  “What are you doing?” Tru asks.

  For a moment, I consider not telling her but we said no more secrets between us. “I have an identity on the DarkNet. I’m using it to break into R-Net.”

  My fingers tap out an incessant rhythm on the keyboard. Lines of algorithms fill the screen. I comb the monitor looking for the one fragment of code to let me unlock the system. Hacking networks really is a skill, much like Tru’s ability to create art. Not everyone can do it with the right amount of finesse. It only takes one wrong keystroke to expose yourself. Punishment for hackers in the AR is execution—no excuses.

  My talent made life on the street a little more bearable, kept me from starving. I always had a few dollars in my pocket thanks to citizens who left their bank accounts open on home computers and cell phones. Am I proud of the things I’ve done? I’m torn. Part of me is thankful I was able to use my brain to stay alive. I pardone
d my activities by never taking more than I needed—like a cyber Robin Hood. But in all honesty, I’m not proud of being a common thief, and yes, Robin Hood was a crook. Okay. Maybe not so common, but still a thief.

  In a matter of minutes, I find a back door into R-Net. I scour the records for Aya Abdullah. There’s more than one file for the name. “Leon, did you know Abdullah?”

  The big man lumbers over to where I’m at. “Yeah. What do ya need?”

  “A middle name.”

  Leon taps a finger against his temple. “I believe it was Yasmin.”

  I scan the files. There’s an Aya Y. Abdullah. I open the record. It lists her name, occupation, and offspring. Cris’s name is there. “Got it. Ready to write it down?”

  Leon rushes over to a counter and grabs a file folder and a pen. “Go ahead.”

  “A Y A 5 5 2 9 6 0.”

  “Got it.”

  I close out the record and log out of R-Net. It only takes a moment for me to delete the history from the hard drive. Always best to be on the safe side. Besides, I don’t know how Canada punishes hackers. Thanks to other countries following the AR, there are few places cyber-terrorists can operate without facing death.

  Mark turns to his uncle. “You got everything you need?”

  The big man walks across the room and checks something under a microscope. “I’d like to finish this test before ya leave.”

  “No time for that. We need to go,” Mark confirms.

  “This is too important, Mark. I’ll have to insist ya stay here.”

  I stand up, my hands clenching. “And if we don’t?”

  “If ya don’t, I’ll call the authorities. Ya will be detained. It’s up to ya. Either stay here in the lab or ya can go to Griffin’s.”

  Fletcher walks out of the room, talking into a cell phone.

  “Is there some place Tru can lie down?” I ask. “We had a long night, and we’re both tired.”

  “There’s a sofa in my office,” Leon offers.

  “Lead the way.” I help Tru to her feet, and we follow the treacherous man out of the lab.

  “But do us all a favor. Do not allow the Alliance to lead the country. Its leader is also duplicitous. It is unclear where her loyalty lies.”

  —from Tru Shepard’s Address to the American Republic

  Tru

  Leon leaves us in a brightly lit room with a small conference table and a lumpy cloth-covered sofa. A ratty brown blanket and an almost-flat pillow lie on one end. Fortunately, it’s a clean space—no spiders to run from. I’m grateful for the respite as I collapse on the furniture.

  “Let me help you, babe.” Zared kneels in front of me. He places my knife on the floor and removes my boots. “Try to get some sleep. I have no idea how long we’ll be here.”

  I yawn and say, “Sleep sounds like a great idea, but we need to talk.”

  “At least lie down,” he urges.

  “Only if you do, too.” I pat the navy-blue cushion.

  “Anything for you,” Zared replies, a grin on his kissable lips. He sits beside me and takes off his shoes, meticulously lining them up next to mine.

  I slide over and let him lie down first before cuddling into his side. Zared tucks the pillow beneath his head, pulls the blanket over us, and places a hand over my stomach. “You two okay?”

  “We’re fine.” It’s going to be a long nine months with him checking on my condition. I admit it’s kind of nice having someone worry about me, though. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Shoot.” His breath fans my ear.

  “Why are you so fussy with your clothing?”

  “How do you mean?”

  “I noticed it the first night we spent together at my parents’ apartment. You carefully folded your jacket and lined up your shoes. You did the same thing back at the safe house.”

  He hunches up his shoulders. “I’ve always been kind of a neat freak. My mother never had to get on my back about keeping my room clean or picking up behind myself. If anything, she tried to get me to break my painstaking habits, but I just couldn’t. Something about a sock out of place or clothes tossed on a chair sets my teeth on edge.” Zared softly laughs against my skin. “You should know I also color-coordinate and alphabetize things.”

  I shake my head. We’re definitely going to have some housekeeping issues. “Sorry. That’s too much effort for me. My mother used to complain constantly about my messy room. When I’d clean it up, I couldn’t find a thing.”

  “I remember the disaster you called a bedroom.” Zared kisses my neck. “Don’t worry, babe. I think you might still be redeemable.”

  I elbow him.

  He laughs aloud. “Okay. I’ll stop. What did you want to talk about?”

  My fingers trace the various scars on Zared’s hand. This man has been through some things. Sometimes I forget he spent time living on the streets. “First, have you heard from Niang? Did he find Ko?”

  Zared clears his throat. “Fletcher got word from him while we were outside. Ko’s being held in interrogation.”

  “Good,” I say flatly.

  “Babe, how did you end up with Leon and Griffin?”

  “Ko led me directly to them. She told me Carter was waiting for me at the old Coast Guard station. He was going to take us by boat to Canada.” I pause remembering Ko’s betrayal. I don’t know whether to feel hurt or anger toward her. We were supposed to be best friends. “She saved me from some Russian guy named Grekov only to deliver me to Leon.”

  “Grekov?” Zared’s voice rises. His body shifts. “Where the hell did he take you?”

  I swallow hard. I keep forgetting there are some things my boyfriend shouldn’t know. It’s not exactly lying. I like to call it protecting Zared from himself. One of these days his temper is going to be his downfall.

  “To the CHA building.” I intertwine my fingers with his. “Grekov was going to have me inoculated.”

  “Damn.” Zared nuzzles my neck. “Thank God Ko wasn’t that heartless.”

  “I feel the same way, but can we talk about something else?” Memories of how close I came to losing myself send a chill down my spine.

  “What else is bothering you?”

  I exhale. “When you were with Leon and Griffin, did you know they were trying to find a cure for the vaccine?”

  Zared doesn’t say anything for a moment. Just when I’m about to ask what the problem is, he says, “Yeah. Griffin told me he was trying to reverse the drug’s effects. He gave me this bullshit excuse for why he kept Gliese doped up.”

  “Doped up?” Griffin did admit to giving her mood stabilizers, but this sounds worse.

  “At first, he claimed Gliese had no emotions after the vaccine. Then, he said she was fighting depression. To be honest, I don’t believe a word he says. I suspect the whole damn family needs medicating.”

  He might have a point there. Gliese might have a bona fide drug problem while her brother could use an anti-depressant or some other stabilizing drug. The verdict is still out on Mark. “But, hey, none of that matters if Leon discovers a cure.”

  “Well, he’s got one hour to find it. After that, we’re out of here.” His arm tightens around me. “Get some sleep. You need the rest.”

  I wake up alone on the sofa. The first rays of sunlight creep into the room. I roll over and notice Zared sitting in a chair. A distant look is in his eyes. Dark circles have taken up residence beneath them. Sexy stubble covers his jaw line. His thick hair juts out at odd angles, most likely from him constantly combing his fingers through it. If he could stop worrying for half a second, he might find some peace and be able to sleep.

  “Z?”

  Zared’s tired gaze settles on me. A thin smile crosses his face. “Hey, babe. How’d you sleep?”

  “Better than you.” I sit up and tuck my legs beneath me. “How long have you been sitting there?”

  “I’m fine. Get your shoes back on. The hour’s up. I’m—”

  The door bursts open and Mark runs int
o the room.

  “You two need to leave now,” he barks.

  “What’s going on?” Zared asks.

  “Canadian authorities are in the parking lot. If they find you here, it’s back to the AR.”

  “Wait,” I ask and swing my legs off the sofa. “Why would they be here?”

  Mark’s eyes dart to me. “It’s not what you think. Boy Genius here tripped something on the computer.”

  “How the hell are you blaming me?” Zared shouts.

  “Keep your damn voice down,” Mark chides. “I was with Uncle Leon the entire hour you’ve been in here. He didn’t call anyone.”

  I shove my blade into my boot and finish lacing it up. “Where are we going?”

  “The airport. There’s a car on the side of the building. Uncle Leon is out front with Fletch stalling for time.”

  Zared pulls on his jacket and takes a set of keys from Mark. “How far to the airport?”

  “About thirteen minutes. This strip mall backs up to a neighborhood. You’re gonna have to cut through it to get to a main street. Follow the GPS in the car. I set it up to take you to the airport.”

  “And once we get to the airport?” Zared says.

  Mark removes a scrap of paper from his pocket and spreads a crudely drawn map on the conference table.

  “This is a rough layout of the airport. You’ll need to go to the daily parking lot. Park as close to Hayes Road as you can.” He points to a square on the paper. “There’s a private hangar on that road, facing the lot. The plane is waiting for you. Tell the person on duty you’re an employee of Steve Winters.”

  “What about you?” I ask.

  “Don’t worry about me, Sweetheart. Fletch and I have a story to cover our asses.” Mark goes over to a narrow window covered with blinds. “Damn.”

  Zared asks, “What’s wrong?”

  “Authorities found the vehicle. You’ll have to go by foot. It’ll take you a lot longer.”

  “Is there a bus or a train we can take?” I say.

  Zared grabs my hand. “Don’t worry about it, babe. I got this.”

  The two men exchange a meaningful glance before Mark nods.