Friction

by R S Penney

  This man had taken lives – if not with his own hands, then by proxy – and as far as she was concerned, that meant she was allowed to employ any measure necessary to put a stop to it. She would have arrested him if she could have, but anyone with a brain would know that was incredibly unlikely.

  No, the only thing she felt was pride.

  A cancer had been rotting away in the upper ranks of the Justice Keepers, and she had just removed her very first tumor. Now maybe they could make some actual progress in bringing down the terrorist. She would check in with Jack when she got her strength back, but for now, she was just going to wait for hotel security to appear.

  Chapter 28

  Leo probably thought he had a significant lead. The knife had been a brilliant move really, inflicting just enough damage that Jack would be compelled to attend to Harry, but not so much that he couldn't be convinced to leave and resume the chase. If nothing else, Jack had to give his opponent this much credit: he was a master manipulator.

  Of course, Leo had probably expected Jack to go after him on foot; taking his car was a damn good way to close the distance, especially when he was fairly certain of his opponent's destination.

  The construction site was illuminated by white lights on tall poles, each one bright enough to make the whole place visible from across the street. It was probably an attempt to discourage teenagers from hanging out there after the crew went home.

  The foundation and metal framework of a large building had been set in place, but other than that, no significant work had been done. Bright yellow tractors were parked at the corner of the lot. Jack spotted a few piles of metal beams, along with several other places where Leo might hide.

  He got out of the car.

  Hunching over with a hand pressed to his chest, Jack winced and shook his head. “I am so gonna catch pneumonia,” he muttered, starting across the street. “Note to self: keep an extra coat in your trunk.”

  A fence of metal grating surrounded the construction site as a safety measure. Of course, that wouldn't do a damn thing to stop Leo, and Jack wasn't about to let it stop him either. He called upon Summer to lessen gravity's pull.

  Bending his knees, Jack leaped and soared into the air. He flipped over the fence, then dropped to the gravelly ground. A slight tingling sensation in his skin faded quickly. So far, he hadn't strained his Nassai too much.

  A glance to the side revealed a spot in the fence where the metal grating had been ripped wide open. Now he knew Leo was here. “Well, sure,” Jack muttered with disdain. “This works if you throw subtlety right out the window.”

  He started forward.

  Craning his neck, Jack squinted at the unfinished building. “You know, this is really unimpressive!” he called out, shaking his head. “For a guy who's so amped about a final showdown, you sure do love to hide!”

  “I'm not hiding.”

  The voice came from just inside the framework. A large square archway that was clearly meant to be the school's front entrance was littered with cigarette butts. Just inside, a concrete floor stretched on for several paces before giving way to a large pit.

  Jack stepped inside.

  His opponent dropped from the framework above to land crouched at the edge of the pit, a huge smile on his face. “I'm glad you could come,” Leo said, standing up. “Just between the two of us, I thought you might…What's that phrase your people like to use in situations like this? Chicken out?”

  “Let's get on with it then.”

  Leo crossed his arms and turned on his heel, pacing a line in front of Jack. “Right to business then,” he said with a shrug. “I wasn't expecting that. I thought you'd want to open with some moralizing speech about how we don't have to do this.”

  Smoothing his features, Jack looked up to fix his gaze on the man. “You're honestly surprised?” he asked, brow furrowing. “After all the shit you've pulled, you think I'd pass up a chance to knock you senseless?”

  “Oh, very good.”

  Leo faced him, putting his back to the pit. “I tell you what,” he said, spreading his arms wide as he slowly moved toward Jack. “Because I'm such a good sport, I'll even let you throw the first punch.”

  As he closed the distance to his opponent, Jack felt a range of emotions. Fear and anger blended together with a touch of guilt. Strongest of all, however, was a desperate need to end this. Now.

  Jack decided to take the offer.

  The other man leaned back, raising one hand to knock the blow aside. A fast palm-strike to the face left Jack stunned and disoriented. He tried to focus, but the hit had left him off balance.

  Leo kicked him in the chest. The man spun like a whirlwind, one arm lashing out for a backhand strike. Instinct made Jack duck.

  He felt something pass over his head, then waited for his opponent to come around. He drove both fists into Leo's stomach. The strength of a Keeper was not something to be taken lightly.

  Leo went stumbling back, all the way to the edge of the pit. “Oh, you're good!” he said, pressing a hand to his belly. “But not nearly good enough to kill me. You just don't have the stones for it!”

  He leaped and flew through the air at wild speed. A silhouette passed over Jack's head, dropping to the floor behind him and landing with arms spread wide. The man let out a growl.

  Jack turned.

  His opponent was already facing him, one hand stretched out to reveal a force-field generator gripped in his palm. A screen of white static appeared between them, hissing and crackling.

  It sped forward and hit Jack hard, causing his vision to double. He was barely even aware of being thrown forcefully into the pit. Air rushed around him and then something cold hit his back. Pain flared in his muscles, and Summer protested the need to heal his body once again.

  Curling his legs against his chest, Jack somersaulted backwards and came up in a crouch. “Damn it!” he muttered, shaking his head. “Okay, bro, I'll admit you've got a few good tricks.”

  He stood.

  A quick survey of his surroundings made it clear that he had landed in a basement with a great big hole in the ceiling. Stacks of thin wooden slats and piles of cinder blocks were positioned against the walls, no doubt intended to be used in construction.

  Leo dropped into the basement.

  The man landed in a crouch, hunched over with a hand pressed to his belly. “I've got to admit, you're doing quite well.” With a groan, he stood up straight. “To be totally honest, I was expecting this to be over already.”

  An ugly smile stretched across the bastard's face as he crept closer. “You know the saddest part?” he asked with a shrug. “When I look at you, I see a simpering fool plagued by self-doubt. It's hard to believe you could last more than five seconds.”

  For a moment – just a moment – Jack had a chance to stare into his opponent's dark eyes, and he wondered what could push a person so far over the edge. Maybe Leo was a pitiable creature. Then he smelled the stink of foul breath and snapped back to reality.

  Jack crouched.

  He punched Leo in the gut with one fist then the other, then rose in the blink of an eye. He threw a mean right cross into the other man's face. A satisfying crunch was his only reward.

  Jack spun and back-kicked.

  His foot hit nothing but air, and he realized Leo had moved aside. The other man seized his leg before he could retract it and forced Jack down onto his knees. When he got his bearings, he saw Leo standing over him.

  The other man raised his foot above his head and brought it down in a powerful ax-kick. Jack threw both hands up to shield himself, catching his opponent's leg. He stood up with a growl, forcing Leo off his feet.

  The other man fell over backward, slapping hands down on the hard stone floor. He flipped upright.

  Jack jumped and snap-kicked.

  A black sneaker to the chest sent Leo stumbling backward, and the man let out a loud wheeze as he tried to regain his balance. He stood hunched over with arms spread wide, distracted for a
few precious seconds. Jack moved in for the kill.

  Leo rose and threw a punch.

  Jack ducked, evading the blow by inches. He drove a fist into Leo's stomach: once, twice, three times. Each blow channeled a torrent of rage, and he relished the thought of inflicting pain on this bastard.

  Leo jumped, somersaulting over his head. The man uncurled to land on the floor, then kicked out behind himself. An old gray boot hit Jack's spine, and the next thing he knew, he was staggering.

  He went face first into the wall, bracing hands against its surface before his nose made contact with the concrete. Pain flared in his back, mingling with the echo of the jolt he'd received when he fell into this basement.

  His opponent was quick; he wasn't going to win this by brute force alone. There had to be something else he could use, some other… An image formed in his mind: Leo striding toward him.

  Jack turned in time to see his opponent moving across the room with teeth bared. “I'm glad to see you're putting up a fight,” Leo hissed.

  The man threw a punch.

  Jack turned his body sideways, catching his opponent's arm and pinning it against his own chest. He crouched down, then flung his elbow into Leo's stomach, receiving a glorious squeal for his trouble.

  A second elbow to the face knocked Leo senseless.

  The man went stumbling away, raising a hand to cover his bloody nose and crying out at the top of his lungs. It should have been over, but Amps could heal a man almost as quickly as a symbiont could.

  “Not like this!” Leo bellowed.

  He reached into his pocket, then thrust a hand out to reveal yet another force-field generator in his palm. A wall of flickering electrostatic energy appeared between them and rushed forward with the momentum of an eighteen-wheeler.

  Jack leaped.

  Curling up into a ball, he somersaulted through the air and let the force-field slide past underneath him. He flipped upright, then dropped to the ground to land hard upon the concrete floor.

  Leo was already on him.

  The man threw a jab that landed in Jack's belly. A second punch to the face filled Jack's vision with tiny silver flecks. The next thing he felt was a pair of hands grabbing his shirt. Then he was stumbling backward.

  He went right into the wall, hunching over from the jolt of pain in his body. As his vision cleared, he saw Leo striding toward him with fury in his eyes. Brute force wasn't going to win this one.

  There had to be something else he could do. Jack took note of a large pile of cinder blocks just a few feet away. Could he use them in some way? There had to be some way to end this. Think, Jack. Focus!

  Leo didn't have a Nassai of his own, but he compensated for that with gadgets and strategy. The last time they tangled, he had tried to force Jack to tire himself out, and it was a good bet he was doing the same thing now. That meant the only way to win was to end the conflict right away.

  First, he had to get the man riled up enough to do something stupid, Psychological warfare. Everything Leo said or did was designed to get under his skin. He was going to have to fight on that level.

  Gritting his teeth, Jack hissed and shook his head. “You're not even a real Justice Keeper,” he said, spinning around to face the man. “You're just a pretender with a couple lousy parlour tricks.”

  Leo froze.

  “Keep on telling yourself that, old man,” he snapped. “It must really tear you up inside to think that with all your power, you still can't beat me.”

  Jack moved to his right.

  Chewing on his lip, he looked down at the floor. “Yeah, you've got a point there,” he said. “I kept wondering how you were able to stay one step ahead of us.”

  “Any guesses?”

  “Not really.”

  When his hip touched a pile of cinder blocks, Jack nearly jumped. Then an idea occurred to him. Poetic justice in fact. “You see, I stopped worrying about you when I realized what you are. You're nothing but a pawn in this game, Leo, a tool to be used in someone else's design.”

  Leo crossed his arms and threw back his head, shaking with a burst of laughter. “So sure of that, are you?” he said, taking one step forward. “What if I told you I've seen the face of God himself?”

  “I'd offer you a glass of Kool-Aid,” Jack replied. “Think about it, dumbass. If you were really that important to the master plan, how come they never gave you a symbiont of your own?”

  “I don't know what you're talking about.”

  “Don't play dumb with me,” Jack mocked. “Pennfield got a symbiont because he's actually important to the cause. They gave you Amps because you're nothing but cannon fodder. They'll use you, and when you've served your purpose, all they have to do is cut off your supply.”

  Leo fumed at him, hissing air through clenched teeth. With each passing second, his face took on a darker shade of crimson. “I'm going to kill you!” he shouted, charging like a bull across the room. “I'm going to rip your throat out!”

  Jack turned to the pile.

  He grabbed a pair of cinder blocks, then twisted around in time to watch Leo throw a hard punch.

  Jack lifted one cinder block to intercept Leo's fist, concrete crumbling on impact. A sharp, painful scream echoed through the basement as Leo doubled over and clutched his bleeding hand.

  Jack brought the second cinder block down on his head.

  The other man dropped to the floor, stretched out on his belly and unconscious. It took a moment for Jack to be certain, but nudging his opponent several times confirmed that this match was over.

  For now at least. The virus contained in a dose of Amps would heal Leo's body in much the same way that Summer healed him whenever he got hurt. Jack's heart sank as he realized that he would be fighting again in just a few minutes.

  Leo was sprawled out on the floor with blood staining his golden hair. There was only one way to make sure he never got up again. Only one. Tension squeezed Jack's insides in a knot.

  The thought of taking a life sickened him but what else could he do? He couldn't survive another round of this, and if Leo got loose, more people would die. Sometimes, the only way to ensure the safety of-

  “Agent Hunter?”

  He looked up to find uniformed officers standing at the edge of the pit, shining flashlights down on him. “Are you all right?” the man shouted. “Is the suspect subdued, or do we have to-”

  “He's down,” Jack shouted. “For now.”

  Harry must have found a neighbour with a landline. Thank God for small miracles. For one thing, that probably meant that Harry was safely on his way to a hospital. Jack wanted to join him. “Call Station Twelve,” he ordered. “Tell the Keepers that we have the terrorist in custody and we need a shuttle down here right away.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Chapter 29

  The surface of Jena's desk was alight with footage from a recent newscast, a single square of light that displayed the Prime Minister at a podium with his back to the Ottawa River. The man looked good, dressed in a dark gray suit with his hair combed back. “It is with a joyful heart that we Canadians celebrate an end to the terror that his plagued this city for over a month.”

  He looked up to give the camera one of those stoic politician stares, then nodded slowly. “When pushed to the limit, people sometimes make tragic mistakes,” he added. “Suspicions of a double agent among the Justice Keepers were confirmed yesterday when Director Jena Morane produced evidence implicating her colleague Cal Breslan.”

  Jack would love to have seen the look on that arrogant bastard's face when he realized that he had played right into Jena's hands. An even more satisfying experience would be seeing the look on Slade's face when he finally heard the news.

  The head of the Justice Keepers had returned to his office on Station One yesterday afternoon, and strangely, he was unavailable for comment. Moments like this made all the heartache and pain worth it.

  Prime Minister Atkins stood tall and proud with his hands folded behind his back,
directing a thin-lipped frown at his audience. “Simultaneously,” he went on, “Canada's first contribution to the multi-planetary peacekeeping force – Jack Hunter – captured and detained the terrorist responsible for the recent wave of violence that has left the people of Ottawa feeling alone and helpless.”

  “Feel free to bask,” Jena suggested.

  Yeah, right…

  Earlier this afternoon, he had asked Selena if there was some way they might be able to keep his name out of the newscast. Her response was a snort of derision and a suggestion that he should enjoy his laurels.

  Laurels were the last thing he wanted. Only idiots desired fame, but it seemed that being the first person from Earth to receive a symbiont was a legacy that would haunt him for the rest of his life.

  “These recent events,” Atkins went on, “people of Earth and Leyria working side by side for the common good, have convinced Parliament that we are stronger when we stand together. With that in mind, we open our borders once again. The citizens of Leyria are welcome here in Canada. It was a mistake to ever shut you out.”

  Jena swiveled around so that he could only see the back of her chair. She stood up and stretched in front of the window. “We did it!” she exclaimed. “You see that, kid? I told you if you followed my lead, it would all work out.”

  She dropped back into the chair.

  Tapping the desk with his index finger, Jack swiped the newscast window aside until it vanished all together. Well, then… It seemed they had finally set things right. Jack had to admit it: he felt good.

  He leaned back in his chair, lacing fingers behind his head, and shut his eyes tight. “We did it,” he said, stretching his legs under the desk. “I'd say that I was wrong to ever doubt you, but was there actually a point where I did that?”

  Jena smiled down at the surface of her desk, wheezing with laughter. “Let a woman have her gloating,” she said, scooching closer. “Besides, in a week, when we're hip-deep in some other problem, you'll wish you'd celebrated.”