“Our target has an accomplice. If we find this boy, we will find Pavel.”
Faso laughed when he saw Max’s face. “Oh, we know where to look.”
“Good. Come. We must leave before security arrives.” He wiped the blood from the crystal.
Half an hour later, a security detachment arrived. What they found was the spoiled body of an unknown woman and shattered glass strewn about on a scuffed deck. It wasn’t until the officers examined the surveillance recordings that they learned of Nerees’s murder. His killers were two irrefutable criminals and one unidentified accessory, all with counterfeit credentials. With them was an unwilling victim, indicating a kidnapping.
For the first time in years, an all-alert was transmitted to every outlet and receiver citywide. Given the current jubilant atmosphere in the Hi-8, it was doubtful the elitists would pause long enough to show respect for a single life lost. For the Lo-enders, their lives would go on as usual.
Chapter 13
The Six
The bulky air-transporter sailed over the revelry on an approach to the Spire’s base. A squadron of Kogot Class gunships provided vigilant security as the carrier entered the landing bay. The craft’s skids touched down on the hard deck.
A regiment of Vityaz marched forth in tight formation and assumed positions on opposite sides. Malus held rank at the forefront of the delegation to receive the ship. Isoles was behind her master, as were their devout acolytes, all dressed in ceremonial robes. Third in line were the cadres of Russian Imperium officers. Orock was on the outside looking in.
The ship’s loading ramp lowered and the hatch bellowed. General Serov descended first. His personal garrison disembarked next. Several dozen shrouded technicians trailed behind, conveying six hovering stasis pods.
The Alliance supreme commander halted, saluting with a snap of his heels and a flex of his arm. He spoke in perfect English, “Your eminence, the Six as you requested.”
The phalanx divided, allowing the techs to bring the pods forth for review. Malus inspected the coffin shaped containers. Inside each were clones of the same young hairless male, dormant and incognizant.
“Perfect and flawless,” Serov boasted. “Manufactured and grown to your specifications.”
The Zolarian leader caressed each pod with veneration. “Even under isolation, I can sense their powers.” He gestured to the techs. “Move the Six to the ascension chamber at once.”
The techs bowed and proceeded with the cargo into the facility.
Emotionally swayed, he looked to Isoles. “Soon they will forge a new world.” He offered his hand and together they proudly paraded past the assembled onlookers.
In the rear of the delegation, a woman pushed through the attendees to get to Orock. Once she got his attention, she shoved a plate at him. Embarrassed by her disruption, he snatched it and read what she pointed out to him.
“Oh, no,” he couldn’t help but gasp.
The assembly turned in unison.
Even Malus stopped. “Is there a problem, Mr. President?”
The human squeaked, “Uh, eminence, there’s a situation. Markus Nerees has been murdered. A person matching Pavel’s description is linked to the crime.”
Serov’s scowl tightened. “Pavel is alive and here in the city? I will hunt him down myself.”
“No,” the elder ordered. “Your responsibilities reside elsewhere.”
“But, your eminence, this brigend must be dealt with.”
”And he shall. Have your Vityaz secure the city and double the guard here at the Spire. When this facility is operational, he will not pose a threat to us.”
“Yes, eminence.” Serov gritted his teeth.
“Go!”
The Russian waved his troopers double-time back aboard the carrier. Malus and Isoles continued on.
The old witch whispered, “Neeres’s death could unnerve many.”
“His murder is inconsequential. News of Pavel’s existence is what vexes me.”
“Kroll is to blame. His incompetence brought this man to our gates. We anticipated as much. Perhaps now is the time for us to rid ourselves of his inferiority.”
It saddened him to consider ordering the end of his once valued disciple. “Yes, we will purge ourselves of Kroll’s failures. Summon him here to the Spire and rectify him straight away.”
“Yes, your eminence.”
In the background, Serov’s carrier lifted from the deck and floated out of the bay. Malus accompanied the technicians as they entered the Spire’s central hub. Not waiting for her security entourage, Isoles boarded a hovering platform and hurried off to execute her master’s order.
While the rest of the crowd dispersed, Orock turned on the unfortunate woman who had dared to humiliate him, striking her with the flat part of the data-plate. The force knocked her to the floor. Callous witnesses laughed as he pushed through the lingering crowd, leaving the bleeding woman to nurse the gash on her scalp.
Chapter 14
Regrets
Finding Nerees’s aero-car parked in the rooftop garage was a stroke of luck. By borrowing it, they narrowly escaped by the skin of their teeth.
During the launch, the craft’s stability fluctuated to the point of tossing the passengers from their seats. Marta hurled forward and when her hands made contact with the dashboard, the car’s power inexplicably surged. Max held tightly to the wheel as it dove steep.
The tel-link shorted out and became scalding hot. He ripped the smoking device from his ear and tossed it aside.
“What was that?” Zoe questioned.
“I don’t know,” he said, rubbing his ear. “But, whatever it was, we’re okay now. I got it under control.”
With a lot of effort, he leveled the car’s course.
She leaned over, “Get us as far down as you can go.”
Emil spotted the blood above her waistline. “How bad are you hurt?”
She reclined, covering the wound. “I’m fine.”
“It doesn’t look fine.”
“Well, shit happens, don’t it? I’ll be okay.” She pressed her hand over the injury. “No thanks to you.”
He ignored her remark and shifted his concern to the distraught girl. The mystery of the power surge wasn’t a mystery to him; he knew she was the cause.
Marta is her mother’s child.
He reached to touch her, but she withdrew.
“No. Please, don’t hurt me.”
Her rejection affected him in ways that were suspicious. He relaxed, presenting a calm bearing. “I know you have no reason to believe me, but I never meant for this to happen.”
“Who are you?”
“We’re the good guys,” Zoe mocked.
Emil shook his head at the ill-timed joke.
“Why are you doing this?”
“Your life is in danger and I didn’t know how else to keep you safe.” His sincerity almost convinced himself that he was telling the truth.
“Why am I in danger?”
Zoe listened. Under the layers of his lies might have been the truth.
Knowing Chacon waited to pick apart his words, he chose them wisely. “The man — I mean your father... is not who you think he is... was. There is a lot to tell you, but now is not the place. Please, believe me when I say, I am here to protect you.”
She stared out the window, distancing herself from the strangers who had just ripped her away from her father and her home. It was useless for him to press his claims of virtue. As far as she saw things, he was a fiend.
He rubbed his hands, wishing he could bury his face in the literal blood stained on them. But, he couldn’t; it would have shown weakness in front of the others. Their present dilemma didn’t allow for impotence. Top priority was devising a new plan of action.
“We have to find a safe house. They know I’m here in New York. Which means going to my ship is out of the question.”
“I knew you would be trouble,” Zoe ranted. “That thing you brought with you... it’
s evil.”
Emil patted the crystal in his pocket out of spite.
“Do you even know what you’re doing?”
He had no clue.
“Yeah, I didn’t think so,” she sighed.
“We need to find shelter. How about taking us home with you?”
“Forget it. If I take you to Agarha, they would use that thing to track you there. I won’t risk it.”
“Agarha?” Max echoed. “I thought that was a myth.”
“That’s what we want people to think. It keeps us safe.”
“Hold on here. There’s really an underground city?”
“I wouldn’t call it a city... more like a refuge.”
“If not Agarha, then where?” Emil interrupted.
She refused to say. Arguing with him was pointless.
While she sulked, Max debated whether to suggest an alternative. “I know where,” he finally proposed. “We can go see Patti.” He couldn’t believe he was seriously suggesting it.
Zoe groaned when she heard the name, but didn’t have a good argument to oppose the idea.
“Will this Patti help us?” the General asked.
“She would if I begged her to,” Max lied.
“Just don’t expect a warm welcome,” Zoe warned.
“So far it’s been par for the course, wouldn’t you agree, Captain?”
She wrinkled her nose.
“Then we’ll go there.” He pushed back in his seat and scratched the tape covering his brigend mark.
Max noticed. “Don’t remove it.”
“I didn’t think Patti had scanners in her club.” Zoe checked to make sure her tape was still in place. It was itching from the rash forming under it.
“She don’t, but you got to keep it on so no hunter spots you on the way there. They come out at night, remember?”
“It’s nagging the hell out of me.”
“Stop moaning, you big baby.”
Max engaged the autopilot and slumped on the armrests of the driver’s seat.
“How are you doing?” She placed a hand on his shoulder.
He jerked. “I’ve really gone and mucked things up this time. I never learn. I should make a run for it.” The last statement was rhetorical.
“Then why don’t you?”
He looked at the frightened girl. “I will, once I get Patti to take you off my hands.”
She wanted to touch his hair and comfort him, but realized such a gesture would be overstepping. “Your father never ran from a fight. He was a brave man.”
He turned to face her. “Yeah? Well, he should’ve stayed here instead of going off to fight in some dumb war. Because of him, my mother ran out on me, too. He made me just another throwaway. I don’t want to be anything like him. You got that?”
She understood the anger and stayed quiet out of respect to his bitterness. What to say to him and mustering the will to do it bothered her. She confessed, “I sometimes wonder if the war had been worth it. I also lost a lot.”
She watched for a reaction, but his guard kept him emotionally shut off. Although Emil pretended to rest, he was listening to the conversation. Her heartache mirrored his own. Had the war been worth it? It cost many people more than their fair share of misfortune. He thought about his mother, sister, and the homeland he would never see again. His loss may have been terrible, but he accepted the ugly reality that he wasn’t alone. Misery hungers for company was the old saying. There in the car were two other indebted mourners of the same calamity.
Near him, folded in an upright position, was the girl he had jeopardized everything to find. Marta was a spirit he thought he had resolved long ago, but whose shadow never actually disappeared. His thoughts centered on how much she looked like her mother.
Is she just as powerful as Nadiya?
The loud silence bothered Max. To occupy his youthful boredom, he got up and crouched to the storage compartment under the backseat. Rifling through it, he dumped a few of its contents onto the floorboard. There wasn’t much to account for, only gloves and sandals. While no one else had bothered to notice, he was well aware of Marta’s bare feet. By offering the sandals, he earned some degree of trust. She eyed the footwear with fascination, as if she had never worn such a thing before. A smile was thanks enough for him.
The short journey ended at an exposed platform deep within old Brooklyn. The locale was isolated and devoid of possible dangers. The adults got out. Marta refused to budge, forcing Emil to pull her by an arm. Max stayed behind to program the nav-computer. After he got out, the car flew off to an unknown destination.
“How far to this Patti?” Emil asked.
“Thirty minutes, give or take. If we run in to hunters, then maybe longer.”
Reeling from fatigue, Zoe considered the idea of walking the distance to be impossible. Max confronted her. “Are you going to make it?”
“Don’t worry about me.”
He took umbrage. “I’m not. I don’t want you dying before I get paid.”
He walked ahead of the group. She couldn’t decipher if he was joking or being serious.
Chapter 15
Bringing down the house
Blood trickled down Zoe’s thigh. If not for the path’s obscure light, the others would have seen how her condition was worsening. She stayed in the rear of the formation to hide her growing malaise.
Max had assumed babysitting duty from Emil, who was walking point. Of the two men, he was the compassionate choice and the girl seemed more at ease with him.
Halfway to their destination, he received a flash from Dinx via the data-plate: HEADS/UV TAGD/DEY -> U. Translation: Heads up. You’ve been tagged. They’re after you.
A chill chased the warmth from his hands. The hunters could be waiting at the Luma Lounge for him to foolishly walk in the door. He looked at his companions. He thought about warning them, but decided to say nothing. If the proverbial crap was going to hit the wall, he would need them as either a diversion for his attempted escape or as collateral in negotiating for clemency. Cho wouldn’t bother with him if he could snag the top two brigends in the world. The plan was wrong, but he cherished his neck more than theirs.
However, Marta made him second-guess his commitment to self-preservation. She was an innocent spirit mixed up in this tangled mess. If they got caught, he had to protect her.
By the time they got to the club, Chacon was straggling. When they stopped across from their destination, she rested against a lamppost. No one took heed of her deterioration.
If the unusually short line of customers meant anything, it was that the club wasn’t at its usual capacity. Regardless of the less than packed house, the vibes were just as electrifying as on any other night.
They snuck in by way of the service entrance without a challenge. Just as Max had feared, the interior wasn’t crowded enough to camouflage their passage across the dance floor. Warily, he led them to the base of the grand staircase, where the giant stood guard.
“Whoa there,” Tank said, raising his arms out to his sides.
“I gotta see Patti.”
“I can’t let you up.”
“Why not?”
“She’s not in the mood. Give her a few more days.” He did a once over of Max’s cohorts. Their war-torn shabbiness only served to reinforce his decision. “Hey, where did you get the threads?”
“Tank, concentrate. I got to see her.”
Max tried to go around, but the human mountain held solid. “Sorry, but since you don’t pay me, I ain’t going to risk my job letting you up there.”
“Tank, please,” Zoe pleaded. “We have to see her.”
“She especially don’t want to see you.” He saw her condition. “You okay, Chica?”
“Doing great. How about you?”
Max pushed her and the others back. “Guys, go wait over there. Please, you ain’t helping.”
While he argued with Tank, Emil pulled Marta along to an empty booth. He nudged her to sit. Zoe collapsed on the cushi
on beside her.
“Stay here. Don’t move. Understand?” Marta attempted to get up, but he held her down. She obeyed with a nod.
“Watch her,” he instructed as he left them alone.
Zoe relaxed her head against the wall. The events of the day played like a loop on the fog of her sanity. So far, it hadn’t been a pretty story and the end... well, it was a downer. She laughed at the notion of trusting someone. Trust is a dagger that cuts both ways.
The club’s noise softened to a black hum in her ears.
Marta waited, allowing the woman to fall deep into the blackness. When the chance came, she bolted from the booth.
Emil found privacy at the end of the hallway near the lavatories. He keyed the controls on his tel-link. “Minsk.” There was silence. “Chief? Pick up.” Still no response.
Something was wrong. It wasn’t like Minsk to ignore a hail, especially when his commander was off-ship. It meant the Crimson Bandit, like he assumed, was under confiscation.
He pocketed the radio.
Marta squeezed through the sea of clubbers, struggling to avoid being knocked to the floor and trampled by rhythmic feet. As she passed the bar, a careless dancer pushed her into a foul-smelling lug of a man. Paz Vega turned to fight, but changed his mind when he saw the beautiful, young creature standing there.
“I didn’t mean to. I’m so sorry.”
He showed his crooked teeth. “Allo, chica. Bueno le is.” She turned to run, but he snatched her wrist. “Purty, donde you aller?”
She pulled on his grip, but he was persistent. “I have to get out of here. Please, let me go.”
“Why a chica lik yu ned to run ‘way. I aint gon to hurd yu.”
“You don’t understand. There are these people who stole me from my Papa.”
He dragged her to him even as she thrashed to break free. He demanded a kiss. “Dar a bise.”
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