Time Heist

by Anthony Vicino

  There.

  "Raines," I screamed, waving my arms over my head.

  I didn't wait for a response. I was floundering through chest-deep water by the time complaints from sore muscles reached my brain.

  An oily film of pollution covered the water. Man's contribution to the ecosystem. Our legacy. Though the downed Kestrel probably wasn't helping.

  Despite my indisputable weakness as a swimmer, I made it to Raines in what I considered good time. Whether that was actually the case, I couldn't say.

  Raines floated face up. Matted strands of black hair plastered the smooth skin of her cheeks. I threaded an arm around her waist and scissor kicked for shore with every reserve of strength still left.

  Muscles seized and my head bobbed beneath the waves with every stroke. More salt water found its way into my lungs with every gasping breath.

  I flailed. The awkwardness of holding Raines, and trying to paddle our two useless bodies, depleted my reserves of adrenaline. My nanocomp kept prodding, hoping to release more of that special chemical, but the fountain was dry.

  Running on fumes and unable to stay afloat, I sank, positive I would never rise above the surface again. But the ocean didn't want our corpses. Instead she sent us a wave. I tightened my grip on Raines as it rolled over us. The undertow dragged us closer to shore.

  Sand rose up beneath my feet, my head broke the surface and I gasped.

  I carried Raines the remaining distance on legs threatening to buckle beneath the exertion of every step.

  Gently I rolled her onto her back.

  Raines lay still, her face a lesson in tranquility. She was gone to the world. Leaving her that way almost felt more humane.

  Leaving her in a place where she no longer worried about Malcolm, or me. Where things like loss, betrayal, and love don't matter.

  But I was selfish; I needed her. I'd left her once. Ran away because I couldn't bear the thought of loving again. Of losing again.

  Running away hadn't mattered because the possibility of loss was becoming more real by the second.

  I pinged her nanocomp and received a log of her biofeedback. Her heart had stopped, but her brain showed a flicker. Life-support nanobots kept her blood moving even as their power supplies dwindled.

  Something was interfering with her nanocomp's ability to jump start her system again. The same jolt my nanocomp had used on me.

  I blinked into the Stream and located Raines' nanocomp floating through the ethereal data-void. I tried manipulating the device with my digital fingers, but it repelled my attempts. Nanocomps were specific to a single neural network, which meant access was limited to one brain.

  There wasn't enough space in Raines' brain for the two of us, which hardly mattered considering I had no clue how I'd get in there, regardless.

  Malcolm had it figured out. He'd demonstrated that ability when he'd deactivated the trace I'd been running in my nanocomp.

  Then it hit me, a sledgehammer to the gut. I made the connection. Saw the plan.

  Malcolm was blocking Raines' nanocomp from rebooting her system. Putting a hold on her system until the life-saving measures would be too late and she'd be dead.

  No.

  I stumbled out of the Stream and crashed back into reality.

  Raines hadn't moved. Would never move again.

  Malcolm would take her from me the same way he'd taken Diana.

  There were no tears, only rage. I screamed until my throat burned and the veins in my temple throbbed against their prison.

  I slammed a fist into her chest. She shuddered from the force.

  Another fist. Something cracked. Her rib or my heart; I couldn't say.

  Again. The tears came, rolling down my cheeks in burning droplets of regret.

  Again.

  And again.

  Raines' hand shot into the air. Her body convulsed. She rolled to the side and sputtered a mouthful of putrid water onto the sand.

  I held her hair back from falling into her face until her body had stopped shuddering.

  "Tom?" she said; her voice creaked like a rusted hinge. Raines' hand fluttered weakly to her forehead. "What happened?"

  I gritted my teeth and let the despair wash off me.

  "You're a terrible swimmer," I said, my voice hoarse. "That's what happened."

  I managed a weak smile. Raines tried sitting up but her pupils dilated, the color flushed from her cheeks, and she swooned.

  "Take it easy, I think you were dead." I rested a hand on Raines' shoulder and helped her to an upright position. "Thought I'd lost you."

  She massaged her temples and said, "Kinda wish you had."

  I was a frequent flier in the world of unholy hangovers, but Raines' looked to be on a whole other level.

  "I can throw you back if you want."

  "No thanks, I've died enough for one day."

  The silence stretched, swelling along with the waves around us.

  "You did good work up there," I said. "Flying, I mean."

  "Yeah. Good flying," she said, squinting against the sunlight. "Bad landing."

  I laughed despite myself, allowing myself that simple pleasure before turning to the task at hand.

  "They're gonna be coming. We gotta move," I said.

  Raines nodded and held out a hand. I pulled her up, and she swayed in the sand before steadying herself by grabbing my wrist. She studied the point where our flesh became one. Her lip twitched. She struggled through the shroud of confusion clinging to her brain and heart like sand to wet skin.

  She released her grip and said, "Lead the way."

  The Terminus skyline peeked over the treetops ringing the beach. We walked in the general direction of the city, hiking into a narrow swatch of what could be loosely defined as forest.

  "I need to contact Time Vice," Raines said.

  There were benefits to accessing the Stream, but we'd be on the grid, trackable. I'd taken a chance to find Raines in the water, but going back into the system would be tempting fate.

  We were fugitives, plain and simple. Years chasing bad guys on Time Vice had taught me something: the guys that managed to escape were the ones that stayed off the Stream.

  I shared these concerns with Raines, but she remained unpersuaded.

  "They need to know." The dense foliage of trees muted Raines' voice, making it abnormally soft.

  "You're putting it on faith that they'll believe you."

  "I have no faith." Raines stopped walking and leaned against a fallen tree. "But we can't do this alone. Not again."

  She was reliving the mass murders that'd pushed me past my breaking point. She'd soldiered through the wake of tragedy and emerged a changed person.

  Perhaps stronger. Definitely jaded.

  But you can only temper a blade so many times before it shatters. Raines looked on the cusp of shattering now.

  She wore her suffering like a tattoo: hidden from prying eyes, but there nonetheless. An indelible ink that couldn't be washed away.

  I'd helped leave that mark. Blinded to her suffering. Oblivious to the pain I'd etched onto her heart.

  We are so fragile. Millions of ways to break a man, so few to put him back together. We lean on each other, hoping to rise above the sum of our parts, to become something better.

  But it only works when all the parts of the foundation are whole.

  It only takes one crack.

  Just one before the whole thing crumbles in on itself.

  I'd pulled away from the support entrusted to me, left those in my life to shoulder the burden alone.

  Raines had carried that weight for too long.

  She wiped a tear from her eye. I looked away.

  I was still the weak one.

  I wanted to tell her I wouldn't leave her again, but that would be a lie.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Nashing Teeth

  "Figured I'd be hearing from you." Captain Nash's face appeared in the digital conference room created in Raines' mind.

&nbs
p; I lurked in the shadows, knowing my participation would only hinder the conversation.

  "There's some—"

  "Listen¸" Nash continued, steamrolling the words leaving Raines' mouth. "You're waist deep in it and I don't want to say I told you so, but shit, I was not vague with my instructions to leave Mandel out of this investigation. He's a loose cannon, and a dead man to boot. But there's no reason to go down with that sinking ship, so make the smart play: bring Mandel in and we'll do what we can to smooth this out for you."

  "It's not what you think, Captain."

  "Enlighten me." His tone suggested his imperviousness to surprising revelations.

  "For starters, the Safeguard's been hacked."

  "Shit, Raines. That's a pretty big for starters," Nash said. "Suppose next you're gonna tell me the Lost have organized an army and are marching on Terminus?"

  "No, nothing like that," she said, her voice buckling beneath the weight of her superior officer's chastising.

  That wasn't the Raines I knew, but given our morning it was fair to assume she felt a little out of sorts. Dying has a way of changing a person.

  "You're right, it is nothing like that. And you know why? 'Cause I'm looking at the Life Tracker account for one Mr. Emilio Castille. Any idea what it shows?"

  He let the question sit in the air longer than necessary for a rhetorical question.

  "Well, don't be too eager to hear the truth, Raines," he said when it became clear she wasn't prepared to offer a guess. "It shows Mr. Mandel making an unlawful withdrawal from Emilio Castille's account. He bled Castille of his time and then watched him die. That's the kind of man you're working with. That's on you. We can't change that now, but we can stop it from happening again. Bring him in."

  "I can't do that."

  "And why in the name of the great nanite in the sky not?"

  "We're following a lead, an—"

  "Oh? Is this like the time you followed a lead to Pause and watched a junked-out Lower murder the Warden?" Nash possessed an indefinable quality that I had distinctly not missed during my time away from the force.

  "Castille admitted to aiding in Malcolm Wolfe's escape, sir."

  "Oh?" Nash said. His jaw worked silent circles.

  "Claims to have been approached by a branch of Division he'd never heard of."

  Nash was overly theatrical, with a love for hearing his own voice that bordered on perverse, but he was not stupid. He absorbed that new piece of information as if sampling a fine wine. His face narrowed, allowing the flavors of truth to wash over his palate.

  "You believe him?" Nash asked.

  "I do."

  "He have any names?"

  Captain Nash, a twenty-year veteran of Time Vice by the time they pinned a badge to my chest, had been around the block enough times that he'd left footprints. After so long, not much surprised the old man. Nevertheless his jaw dropped and rested loosely on its hinge when Raines said, "Just one. Daniel Brandt."

  The name struck a chord with the Captain. His eyelids contracted while his pupils expanded. A frown flickered across his face before he regained composure.

  "Do you have it on record?" Nash said, his tone softer around the edges now.

  "Yes, sir."

  Nash paused for a long deliberation before saying, "You've put me in the shit house with no toilet paper, Raines. You're still wanted on suspicion of murder, destruction of Unity property, and a whole slew of God knows what else. There's nothing I can do about that, you understand?"

  "Yes."

  "Good, 'cause if this goes tits up, which I'm willing to bet everything I love and hold dear it will, you're gonna be out in left field playing with yourself. This conversation stays between us, but you don't come back to me unless you have something bulletproof. Something I can work with. I'll do what I can to keep the heat turned to a simmer from this end, but there's only so much I can do. I can't stall forever."

  It wasn't much, but it gave us a start. Sometimes that's the hardest part. After that, momentum takes over and all you can do is hold on and enjoy the ride.

  Or, short of enjoying it, you try your hardest not to get run over by the damn thing.

  "Thanks, Captain," Raines said, "but I need to ask a favor."

  "Another?" His tone suggested he'd done enough.

  "We need transportation."

  "Where are you now?"

  Raines resisted the urge to look at me. We were at a crossroad. Either put our trust in the Captain and hope he was shooting straight with us, or walk away on the chance he was leading us into a trap.

  Our options were too few to be picky. Terminus, the largest city in the world, spanned hundreds of miles. If we had any hope of catching Malcolm, we needed assistance.

  Raines must have reached the same conclusion and said, "I'll ping you my coordinates."

  "I'll have a Dragonfly waiting here in ten minutes," Nash said.

  I assumed he sent Raines a destination, but I hadn't been included in that information transfer.

  "Thank you," Raines said, her voice shifting in tone and quality to indicate she wasn't done calling in favors. "There's one more thing."

  "Jesus, what now?"

  "Just...tell Maddie and Morgan I love them."

  "Oh." Nash's voice drooped along with the rest of his face. "Of course, Alaina. You don't have to ask that."

  For the first time in the conversation Nash let his eyes wander. They did a full circuit of the space overhead before finding something on the floor by his foot worthy of his attention. He shifted his weight from foot to foot a couple times before saying, "You going to tell Brad?"

  Raines gave a resigned shrug. "No. He can't know."

  Nash nodded. "He'd understand."

  Neither Nash nor Raines' body language suggested they believed that.

  "He wouldn't."

  "Doesn't matter how this plays out, I'll make sure Madison and Morgan do. They'll know you were doing the right thing. Doing your job."

  The odds makers clearly weren't on our side. Even our allies refused to bet too heavily on us.

  "Thanks, Captain."

  Nash gave a nod before disconnecting, presumably for fear of being asked for more favors.

  "Brad?" I asked.

  Raines stared through me. It wasn't a callous look. Not even one of disdain. Simply vacant. Then she blinked out of the Stream, disappearing from the virtual space without another word.

  Before I could follow, something pinged me. The anonymous request blinked in the corner. Knowing nothing good could come from it, I accepted the call.

  Malcolm Wolfe stepped into the virtual space with me. I hate it when I'm right.

  "Nasty business with the Warden, eh?" Malcolm paced the black void in front of me.

  "You didn't have to kill him."

  "Me?" Malcolm's face soured. "What makes you think I had anything to do with his death? He was nothing but kind to me. Granted I slept through most of our encounters."

  "Didn't you?"

  "Never."

  "Don't act indignant."

  "Mr. Castille's death lacked elegance. I'm offended you consider me capable of such an act."

  I disregarded the idea that there had been elegance in Diana's murder and said, "Was it the people who broke you out?"

  "Not unlikely." Malcolm's tone suggested he wasn't sure of the answer himself. "They're not good people, you know."

  "Why don't you tell me about them?"

  "No, no, no." Malcolm clicked his tongue against his teeth and waggled a finger. "We don't bite the hand that feeds us until we can feed ourselves."

  "Would've figured you for a lone wolf. Your own master."

  "We all answer to someone at one time or another. It's simply the way the world works."

  "So why you doing this? Did they give you a to-do list that started with annoying the hell out of me?"

  "No, Tom. You're a side project, but don't let that hurt your feelings. I promise to give you plenty of attention."

  "I'm dev
astated," I said, "but let's get to the part where you tell me why you're here now."

  Malcolm frowned, the two corners of his mouth plummeting towards a chin puckered with wrinkles.

  "You've never had a sense of theatrics. No dramatic buildup, crescendo, climax, release...ah, all the subtleties that keep us wrapped in breathless anticipation, begging and pleading and writhing for more, and less, until you reach your threshold and transcend."

  "You've been alone too long."

  "Probably." Malcolm stopped pacing and pivoted on his heels. His lips had reversed their journey and he beamed. Pure pride. "I'm here because heroes deserves recognition."

  "Not sure I des—"

  "Not you," Malcolm said. "Me."

  "We may have differing opinions on what constitutes a hero."

  "Undoubtedly, but that doesn't change the fact that I saved a life. Two lives, multiple times, to be precise."

  "You've turned over a new leaf, huh?"

  "A one-time engagement, I assure you. All the more rare and spectacular for it. I'm glad we had the opportunity to share it together."

  It wasn't until I asked the question, "Who did you save?", and heard the words spoken from my own mouth that I understood part of the equation. "Raines?"

  I'd suspected he'd blocked her nanocomp from kick starting her heart, but if he wanted her dead, he could've deactivated her comp at any time since.

  "And yourself. You don't believe the Pause anti-aircraft guns simply decided not to fire themselves, do you?"

  "I'd considered the possibility."

  "You're getting sloppy. The Tom Mandel I know would have controlled the situation better."

  "I'm getting old."

  "You're not old, just dying. I understand that can be distracting."

  "Why are you helping us?"

  "If I lose you, I lose my game...my revenge."

  "Sounds petty."

  "Most things in life are."

  "Why didn't you kill Raines?" I asked, doubling back on the only question that mattered.

  "Because from this point on, every stolen glance will fill you with dread. Now you know I can take her like that." Malcolm snapped his fingers; the sound of dried twigs cracking. "I want you to relive that moment on the beach a thousand times in your remaining hours knowing there's nothing you can do to stop me. Knowing that she will die, and you will fail to do anything but watch."