Guardian Angel (Psionic Pentalogy Book 5)

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Guardian Angel (Psionic Pentalogy Book 5) Page 17

by Adrian Howell


  “What Mark – I mean Jacob – said earlier,” explained Alia, “about how not everyone is converted, especially if they come here willingly. I bet Patrick was never converted. Laila too.”

  “I agree,” I said, and then added warningly, “But that doesn’t mean you call them up and invite them over for tea. Understand?”

  “Of course,” Alia said in a hurt tone. “But who knows? Maybe Patrick could help us.”

  “Out of the question, Alyssa,” Terry said sternly. “We’re not here to make friends with traitors.”

  “Okay,” said Alia, shrugging. But she kept her smile.

  “Richard,” Ed Regis said hesitantly, “you bringing Cindy Gifford up at the meeting…”

  “Means nothing,” I assured him icily. “I was just curious. Like I said before, Major, my rules.”

  This time Ed Regis backed down immediately. “As you wish.”

  “Besides,” I added, “as Jacob made perfectly clear back there, Cindy isn’t a viable target.”

  My initial shock at finding Mark at the head of the Resistance had quickly turned into utter relief. Mark would never lead the Guardians on a mission that could hurt Cindy. I even wondered if perhaps he had come here specifically to guarantee Cindy’s safety. There was something else I suspected of Mark now too, but I wanted to be more certain before I said anything about it.

  Someone called out, “Raider, report to the conference room.”

  Again, the human intercom system rapidly relayed the message throughout Twenty Point Five, followed by Raider’s reply.

  “That’s going to take a little getting used to,” remarked James as “Raider on the way” was parroted around the floor.

  “Well, if we’re going to work here, we might as well join the chorus from the next one,” said Ed Regis.

  James wondered, “How did Raider get in here, anyway? He couldn’t follow us down his trapdoor because he had to move his bed back over it.”

  “Probably from another entrance,” I said, remembering how Mr. Jenson had said that there were several ways in and out of Twenty Point Five.

  A few minutes later, Raider himself appeared at our curtain.

  “Well, well, a private room on your first day in,” he remarked with more than a touch of distain in his voice. “It looks like you really do have Proton’s favor.”

  “Apparently so,” Terry replied evenly.

  “Jacob is busy now,” said Raider. “I was told to take you to the surveillance room and explain to you your first duties. Right this way, new people.”

  Clearly irked by Raider’s condescending tone, James threw me a wry smile, shaking his head, but I just shrugged. I knew that Raider wasn’t really mean or anything. He just had a bit of an attitude, which was fine.

  The surveillance room was just down the hall from our sleeping quarters. It was a fairly large rectangular space lined with desks and tables, each with an office chair facing three large computer monitors set side by side. There were a total of eight work stations, and each of the twenty-four computer monitors displayed multiple security camera images from all over Lumina. I suspected that Wood-claw’s security office was similar to this on a smaller scale, but as my memory of working there had been completely wiped by Mr. Beryl, the Resistance surveillance room was a real eye-opener for me.

  “This is one of our two main surveillance stations,” explained Raider. “The other is in a different building.” Then he added wryly, “Thanks to a certain famous hider that lives at the top of Lumina Prime, our finders are completely useless in tracking Angel psionics in Lumina. That’s why we need this crazy setup.”

  The eight Knights manning the work stations swiveled their chairs around to look at us. People didn’t stand up here if they could help it. We briefly exchanged introductions and handshakes before letting them get back to their jobs of quietly staring at their screens and occasionally typing memos into their computers.

  “Keep your voices tolerably down in this room,” warned Raider, gently tapping one of several pipes running along the ceiling. I noticed that it had been sprayed with red paint.

  “We’ve heard about the pipes,” said James.

  Peering over the shoulders of the Knights, I could see in the monitors that the sun was just beginning to set over Lumina. I saw people strolling along the sidewalks, children running and playing in the park, and Angels chatting in the Lumina building lobbies. Some of the cameras were fixed in place while others slowly panned from side to side. I could see the hospital ward in New Haven Three as well as the insides of various stores and restaurants in the Lumina area.

  There were even a few cameras hidden in people’s homes, which I guessed belonged to prominent Angels. We were spying on their dining rooms, living rooms and even bedrooms. I saw a man lying half-naked on his bed, flipping through a sports magazine. It made me think of the PRC, and how Alia and I were under constant surveillance there by the Central Control Room that watched our every move from upstairs.

  “So,” said Raider, gesturing toward the monitoring stations, “this is your first job. Each of these stations is handled by two Knights working in twelve-hour shifts. You track the movements of all Angels that pass in front of your cameras, but especially the Seraphim and high-level Angel officials. You keep a log detailing when and where each Angel goes, how long they stay and when they return. You watch for signs of any unusual activity and report it. You can learn the specifics on the job from your coworkers.”

  “Great,” James said with forced enthusiasm. “When do we start?”

  “At the turn of the next shift, which is 8pm,” said Raider, and pointed to one of the desks. “Tiffany and Richard can take Station B here, relieving Axel and his partner who are both already cleared for tourist work. And until Jack and Edmund become tourists, they can work at C, which belongs to me and Dizzy at the moment.”

  The Knight called Dizzy turned to Raider and said, “I think the S&D is starting early.”

  “Good,” replied Raider. “I was just running out of things to explain.”

  Raider motioned for us to crowd around Station C. The monitors displayed several images of the area around what used to be called New Haven Six. A few of the other Knights also got up from their chairs and joined us at Dizzy’s station.

  “That’s Lumina Quintus,” said Dizzy, pointing to the building. “You can see the Seraphim gathering.”

  “What’s an S&D?” I asked.

  “Search and detain,” explained Dizzy. “It’s a flash raid acting on an anonymous tip about Guardian spies hiding in one of the Quintus condos.”

  The nonchalant way Dizzy said that struck me as odd. Terry thought it strange too, and asked, “So what’s the big joke?”

  “It’s our tip,” said Dizzy, smiling. “Quintus is the only building in Lumina that doesn’t have any Guardian presence at all, but the Angels are dead certain that our command center is in there somewhere. They’ve been trying to find it for months now.”

  We watched through an outdoor camera as a team of about fifteen Seraphim dressed in dark suits gathered in front of the building. As they entered, we followed them through another camera that was set in the lobby. The team divided into two groups, one remaining in the lobby as the other entered the elevator. We watched the men inside the elevator from a ceiling-mounted security camera.

  “Thirty-third floor,” said Dizzy, punching a few buttons on her keyboard. “Too easy.”

  One of the monitors now displayed a hallway, and we watched the Seraphim knock on a door and quickly arrest a family of four. I saw a blond-haired girl about Alia’s size and her younger brother clinging to their parents in the hallway. The mother was crying and shouting something. The father looked terrified as the dark-suited men marched the whole family into the elevator.

  “What will happen to them?” asked Alia.

  “They’ll be taken to the Department of Allegiance for questioning,” said Dizzy. “They’ll be delved and, hopefully, let go at that.”

&nb
sp; “And if they’re not?” I asked.

  “Depends on which way the wind is blowing,” Raider said lightly. “Torture, execution, reconversion… anything can happen.”

  Alia shook her head. “This is wrong, Addy.”

  “I know,” I replied quietly as I watched the family being escorted out of the building.

  Outside, the sky was getting darker.

  “So that’s our show for the day,” said Raider. “You can decide amongst yourselves who gets the night shift, but make sure these seats aren’t empty at 8:01 tonight. Meanwhile, you are free to explore the rest of Twenty Point Five and get to know the other Knights working here, but don’t go opening up any trapdoors on the floors or ceilings. There are usually guards at the gates, but sometimes they get a little lax. We also have a mess hall somewhere around here. Find it when you get hungry, but don’t expect any service.”

  “Thank you,” I said.

  “I’m the one to thank you,” replied Raider. “At least now I can go outside a little more. This place is like a dungeon.”

  I couldn’t say that I disagreed, but I guessed it was still better to be here than headed to the Department of Allegiance.

  Chapter 10: The Blood Runner

  Twelve hours is a very long time to be staring at a bunch of computer monitors and typing notes into a log book. Ed Regis and I got the night shifts: Ed Regis because he offered and I because Terry ordered me. Not that the shifts made that much difference here. Like at Wood-claw, day and night were essentially what the clock said.

  In leaving Wood-claw’s windowless apartments behind, we had merely traded one sun-deprived residence for another, but Nonus Twenty Point Five was truly the pits. Being far above ground didn’t change the fact that it felt like a deep dungeon. By the second day, I missed Candace horribly, but at least there was a little comfort to be had in the knowledge that I was back inside Cindy’s famously large hiding bubble. Of course I couldn’t feel its effects in any tangible way, but it was nevertheless a pleasant thought.

  Mark was furious (in his own gentle manner) at Raider for implying to us that we were bound to ever-recurring twelve-hour shifts.

  “You can ask for a break whenever you need one,” Mark assured us. “The gate guards are often willing to take on a shift, or at least half a shift, just to get a break from the monotony and be able to look outside.”

  We also learned quickly on the job that we weren’t expected to be glued to the monitors every minute. Unless something exceptionally interesting was happening outside, most Knights took short breaks every few hours, and often a full hour for lunch. It wasn’t uncommon to find a few seats empty at any given time.

  And though I missed Wood-claw, I was glad for Mark’s company whenever he could spare some time to join me in the surveillance room. I also got to know the other camera-crew Knights fairly well. Though we still called each other only by our aliases, with my disparately colored eyes and missing right ear, however well hidden by my long hair, my true identity was no mystery to anyone here.

  “It’s good of Proton to keep you and Tiffany off the streets,” one camera-crew Knight called Willow said to me on my third night. “There’re some pretty big prices on your heads, I hear.”

  “It’s so great to be wanted,” I joked.

  “I am also wanted,” said Willow, lighting up a cigarette, “ever since my cover was blown two months ago. That’s why I’m stuck in here.”

  “You were a spy?” asked Ed Regis, who had been listening to our conversation from the side.

  “A tourist, a scout, a spy, whatever you want to call it,” Willow replied casually. She puffed on her cigarette for a moment. “Now I’m forever on the camera crew, which I’m sure you know by now is one of the least-sought-after positions inside the Resistance.”

  We laughed.

  “Still, it was worth it,” said Willow, giving her mildly bulging belly a light pat. “At least I got the bastard who killed my husband.”

  “Are you really supposed to be smoking?” I asked. “Doesn’t it hurt the baby?”

  “I’m trying very hard to cut down,” replied Willow, eyeing her cigarette distastefully. She gave it one more long drag and then snubbed it out. “I’ve managed to limit myself to three or four a day.”

  Willow was almost four months pregnant with the child of her late husband. I wondered if she was really going to have her baby right here in Twenty Point Five. More likely, she would be escorted out on a phantom train before much longer.

  “I suppose a little smoke wouldn’t make a big difference in a place like this,” I said, still not used to the musty air and various unpleasant fragrances. “But at least they could have given you the day shift.”

  “Actually, I requested the night shift,” said Willow. “The day shift is much busier.”

  I learned from Willow that the majority of Resistance operatives, including the camera-crew Knights, were cleared for active tourist duty. This was because Proton carefully recruited people unknown to the Angels, usually from distant Guardian settlements and small independent factions like Wood-claw. (The exceptions to this policy included necessary VIPs such as intelligence officers, former New Haven security technicians, and the occasional celebrity Knight like Terry Henderson or Adrian Howell.) Most of the tourists hid in plain sight in and around the Lumina area, doing everything from running local coffee shops to working in the maintenance crews of the Angel-owned buildings.

  “That’s how we regained control of many of the cameras,” said Willow. “Supposedly, we even have a few tourists inside Lumina Prime and in the Department of Allegiance.”

  “Supposedly?” I repeated.

  “Well, only Proton and Jacob know who and where everyone is, of course,” said Willow. “The rest of us are better off not knowing. After all, captured tourists can endanger everyone connected to them.”

  “What about Angel spies in our ranks?” asked Ed Regis.

  “Uncommon,” said Willow. “There’re so few of us in Lumina that our organization is much harder to penetrate than theirs. But that doesn’t mean they don’t try. The worst case we had was back in July when the Seraphim managed to infiltrate one of our safe houses in Septimus. We lost nine of our men there, including two of our best blood runners.” Willow looked longingly at her pack of cigarettes on her desk, but didn’t reach for it. “Still, it could have been worse. They didn’t even find the other safe house in the same building.”

  “And you still use that building?” said Ed Regis, who had camera access to the lobby of Septimus.

  “We’re more careful about it now, but yes,” Willow said lightly. “Proton says to always assume that there are at least two spies somewhere in the Resistance. But I can guarantee that the Seraphim have never gotten into Twenty Point Five.”

  “How can you be so sure of that?” I asked skeptically.

  Willow smiled. “Because we’re all still here.”

  “That’s reassuring.” I couldn’t help my sarcasm.

  Willow laughed, and I asked her hesitantly, “What happens if the Seraphim do attack us?”

  “It depends on how they attack,” she replied with a shrug, “but we have a few ways to get out.”

  Ed Regis threw me a grin. “Thinking of doing another nosedive into a dumpster?”

  “Saved your life, didn’t it?” I reminded him.

  Willow said, “Don’t worry too much. We’ve been around for a while now. These days, we’re usually pretty good at spotting Angel spies well before they know it. That’s how we managed to feed the Seraphim the idea that our command center is in Quintus rather than Nonus.”

  I remembered the family that was arrested on my first day here. “So you use their own spies against them?”

  Willow nodded. “Whenever possible. The thing with Lumina now is that the Angel population is expanding so quickly there’s a lot of chaos. And where there’s chaos, there’re openings. That means opportunities for us.”

  Opportunities like the ones Willow was
referring to always came with risks. While camera crew might be one of the least-sought-after positions here, it was undoubtedly one of the safest. At greater risk were the tourists, and at even greater risk were the blood runners.

  Despite Proton’s original plan, neither James nor Ed Regis was assigned to tourist duty. The Guardian intelligence team had deemed both unfit for outdoor work in Lumina. James was the son of two Guardian Knights and Ed Regis had been a senior member of the Wolves, meaning there was a good chance the Seraphim would recognize them both. Disguises were considered, but since having them work in the surveillance room allowed more qualified tourists to work outside, Mark told them that they would remain on the camera crew for the foreseeable future.

  But for Alia, blood runner it was.

  There were only two psionic healers in the Resistance aside from my sister, so I could understand Proton’s demand and even Mark’s agreement with making her a blood runner. But I wasn’t at all happy.

  “You wanted to come,” I reminded Alia when she insisted on getting my permission. “It’s your risk to accept, Alyssa.”

  “I want to help the people here, Richard,” said Alia. “But I know you don’t want me going out there.”

  Just because she could see right through me didn’t mean I was going to admit it. “You’re a Guardian Knight,” I said, patting her back. “Do what you have to.”

  The deal was finalized near the end of our first week in Twenty Point Five. Being of school age, Alia’s blood running would have to be restricted to weekends and weekday evenings, but even that, according to Proton, was a great help. The other two blood-runner healers were stationed at other safe houses, and they too could only work within specific timeframes.

  “This expands our coverage of the city considerably,” said Proton. “We’ve already lost too many operatives to the Seraphim simply because we couldn’t reach them in time.”

  Alia’s disguise was exactly as Mark had originally suggested: She would walk through Lumina as Raider’s only child, Marion. Alia had to dye her hair a little lighter and lengthen it with a wig. I was skeptical about the wig at first, but outside was cold enough to merit a knit cap that hid the evidence well. Marion was on the tall side for a second grader, and aside from their shoe sizes, their clothes were a spot-on match. Once Alia was properly dressed, the only real difference between her and Marion was that Alia was psionic. But being inside Cindy’s hiding bubble, as long as she didn’t walk right next to any finders, healers or telepaths, she would be okay.

 

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