Ⓥ
The door opened with a piteous squeal on its rusty hinges. The stench of urine and unwashed bodies wafted from the darkened interior. Vigil entered a room thick with the humidity of sweat and tears. The sound of quiet weeping slid down the walls like condensation.
The cages inside weren't gilded in gold. They were cruel steel enclosures so confining that the children inside only had room to crouch. They were half-starved, listlessly staring as Vigil drew nearer. He felt his muscles quiver from the rage that coursed through his veins.
"I should have killed them."
His helmet buzzed. He engaged the visor again, the panels sliding over his face. A window opened up inside, morphing into a ghostly image of Incognito.
"This is…terrible, Vigil."
Vigil's fists clenched. He turned to the freed children, who gazed at him as if awaiting orders. "Get them out of these cages."
They rushed to comply, freeing the latches and helping the imprisoned children escape. Vigil strode from one cage to the next, furiously ripping the doors from their hinges.
Incognito's visage continued. "You shouldn't have exposed yourself. Concealing your identity is the most important part of what you do."
"They wouldn't have trusted me otherwise. Are you watching everything?"
"I have visual access through your visor, yes. It's a safety precaution."
"It's invasive. You're able to track the suit's signal. That should be enough."
Incognito sighed. "You can change the settings with Proto if you want. For now, you have to consider the implications of this attack. I can't believe your first mission results in the infiltration of an op ran by Denizens. I can't overstate how dangerous your situation is, Vigil. This isn't what you need to be taking on at this point."
"Really? Tell that to these kids, Incognito. This is war. Understand? I don't care who these people are. They're going down. Brick by brick if that's what it takes."
"We'll discuss this later. Get the children out, then vanish before more heat arrives. A floater will be positioned topside for you." Incognito's image fizzled out.
Vigil paused after tearing another cage door off. His breath hissed through his teeth as he reached and scooped up the girl inside. Her face was badly bruised, but he recognized her.
He gently shook her shoulder. "Mira."
Her eyes blinked open, widening when they focused on him. She snarled, swatting his hands away. "Get away from me!"
He realized she couldn't recognize him with the visor on. For a split second, he considered removing it again. But he considered Incognito's warning.
"I'm…a friend. Jett sent me."
She stared at him, then around as recognition dawned. All around were children. Some supported others barely strong enough to stand on their own. The cages were emptied, the children crowding around Vigil with eyes glistening with tears and hope.
Mira leaped out of the cage, frantically searching the mass of faces. "Zoe?"
One of the girls from the golden room screamed. "Mira!"
"Zoe!" The children made way as she ran into the arms of her sister. The two clutched each other tightly, tears streaming down their faces.
Vigil swallowed the lump in his throat. "Okay. Everyone take someone's hand. No one gets left behind. I'm getting you out of here."
Chapter 15
Agent Ronnie Banks arrived at the site of another disaster. She groaned. The sheer amount of flashing lights and gawking crowds meant nothing but trouble. Landing her spinner a few yards from the scene, she surveyed the area. The crowds seemed unusually excited, some shaking their fists and yelling. Had to be something serious for so many to have removed their holovisors. The screens glowed like decorative lights, bobbing to and fro among the shifting masses. The collective illumination made the sector brighter than the average night, where only a few lonely streetlights cut through the heavy shadows.
She froze at the sight of a familiar face. Just for a second, Jett Wolfe was visible in the milling crowd. His thick jacket was of much better quality than the one he wore when he came to the precinct. Somehow he stood out, alone despite the chaos around him. His eyes were sharp, his stance alert as if he expected to have to run or fight any second.
What's he doing here?
He was quickly swallowed by the shifting bodies. Ronnie activated the floater's doors, exiting the vehicle as they slid upward.
Then again, why wouldn't he be? Looks like everyone in the area showed up.
A holograph materialized in front of her in the form of news reporter Cam Danvers from NYN Studios. She thrust a microphone in Ronnie's face.
"What can you tell the public about the situation here, Agent Banks?"
Ronnie kept walking. "No comment."
Cam kept pace, unconcerned when a passerby walked right through her digital image. "They say the Underground is nearly shut down out of concern for an attack deep within. They say a war erupted. There's talk of a man in a mask with a vendetta against gang members."
"Practically everyone in the city wears a mask, Cam. Find someone else to shake down."
"How long will the RCE have no answers for the citizens of this city, Agent Banks? How long until they've had enough?"
Ronnie walked past a No Press barricade, where Cam's signal would cut off if crossed. The reporter remained behind, shouting her network's anthem. "The public has a right to know!"
A group of rookie officers stood around, looking stiff in their uniforms. Their sergeant turned to greet her as she approached. "Agent Banks. Ready for a real snafu?"
"What's going on, Mack?"
"Gotta see it to believe. Not gonna like it, though." He glanced around. "Where's your partner?"
"On his way. You can say his name, Mack. You guys went to the Academy together, for God's sake."
"I went to the Academy with a man, Ronnie. Not whatever he is now. It ain't right. Not what happened to him. And not what they did with what was left of him."
"It was his choice, Mack."
"Choice?" He harrumphed through his thick mustache. "Damn those Denizens. He never had any choice once they got their filthy fingers involved."
She leaned toward him, keeping her voice level. "Want to get on their radar? Keep announcing it to the world. You know they have eyes everywhere. Remember what happened to Ralph."
"Ralph was a dumbass." Mack lowered his voice, however; directing his officers to clear a path. They shoved their way into the crowd, who grudgingly let them pass. Ronnie adjusted her firearm as she followed the black-suited agents. The ugly mood was palpable, like a storm about to break. She'd seen enough riots erupt to know that a single spark could create madness in a matter of seconds. Many of the faces were covered by masks or goggles; others rendered nearly featureless by heavy hoods. Some shouted at her as she passed.
"They gonna pay!"
"Pigs for show. They drop charges, wait and see."
"You gonna let Dens walk, pigs?"
Dens? A rush of adrenaline made Ronnie feel dizzy. The shifting masses blurred around her. There was no way that a Denizen would be in the worst part of the city. Not unless—
The sight was surreal enough to be unnerving. Most of the officers in the city were present, in rigid formation behind a hi-volt barricade erected tall enough to prevent anyone foolish from trying to leap over. The RCE officers appeared unusually uneasy, but it wasn't because of the angry throngs that surrounded them. It was because of the source of the uproar.
Three Denizens were secured to a street lamp post; arms raised above their heads by wired manacles attached to the lamp's control panel. If they tried to free themselves, they would be electrocuted. They were forced to remain there, shackled in one of the worst neighborhoods in Neo York like disgraced angels exiled from a vengeful heaven. Their outlandish robes only made the contrast more distinct.
Yet there was no fear on their cherubic faces. They gazed at the raucous crowds with searing contempt, faces calm and unruffled. As if the people
had gathered to face their judgment, instead of the other way around.
Ronnie knew all too well that was more than likely the case.
"What the hell is going on here, Mack? Who's in charge?"
He gave her a worried glance. "Far as I know, you are."
"What? We're looking at three Denizens shackled to a light post. There should be a ranking officer at the very least. Where's Commissioner Miller?"
"Not here. Don't think he wants to be. I call him and report; he says 'keep me informed' and hangs up. Can't get the Chief on the wire at all. No one wants this, Ronnie. You're the Agent. It's in your hands now."
She looked at the other officers and realized it was true. There was no one there that outranked her. She took a deep breath, hoping her expression didn't reveal the razor-winged butterflies that carved ulcers in her stomach. The Denizens twisted around to stare at her, realizing she was the figure of authority over their situation. The tall, blond-haired man offered her a thin-lipped smile, eyes glimmering like freshly polished sapphires.
Mack gave them a nervous glance. "They only gave us their names. Blond one calls himself Ulysses. The other is Ramses. Woman's name is Electra."
"Royal or mythological names. They do think highly of themselves, don't they?"
Mack cleared his throat. "That's not all, Ronnie." He gestured to the Underground entrance.
Ronnie hesitantly stepped over and peered into the tunnel. It was packed full of preteen children, boys and girls who stared back at her with haunted eyes.
"What's the deal with the kids?"
Mack shuffled his feet, barely meeting her gaze. "They…say they were kept in cages. By the Dens. I sent a team inside. They found some sort of lair deep down. Matches what the kids claim. They say the Dens did…things to them."
Ronnie's stomach clenched. "What kind of things?"
A tortured expression etched across Mack's face. "You know what kind."
Anger surged so quickly that her vision reddened. "All of them say the same thing?"
"The ones who will talk. Some are too afraid. Some too messed up to be coherent."
The crowd rocked back and forth, shouting in a chorus of fury. Some had weapons brandished in the air. For once Ronnie didn't care. They were reflections of the rage she felt inside. One chant caught on with the crowds, shouted over and over again.
Make them pay!
Make them pay!
Make them pay!
She stalked over to where the Denizens were shackled. Ulysses smiled again. He would have been strikingly handsome had it not looked like someone punched his face in. His nose was broken, his lips split, his right eye nearly obscured by heavy bruising.
"You'll let us out, won't you, Agent? I'm sure you want to do the right thing. After all, this is simply a terrible misunderstanding." His voice was velvet-soft, his gaze sharp with malice. Ronnie saw the hatred, the shame he tried to hide. He thought nothing of her, would kill her if he could just for witnessing his humiliation.
"You know me?"
Another condescending smile. "Oh, indeed. Headstrong orphan who survived the gritty streets to become a decorated Agent for the RCE. Bravo, Agent. Not many make it that far in those circumstances. Not…completely intact, anyway. A shame what happened to your partner. That's what—your fifth one so far? One might think pairing with you is bad luck, Agent Banks."
A wave of heat scalded her cheeks. She felt the eyes of the other officers watching her. "One might think imprisoning children for perverted sex games is the sign of a deranged mind."
His grin widened. "That's exactly why we were sent there. Haven Core caught wind of this disgusting business. That's why they sent their best agents to handle the situation. We're doing the job your agency won't do. You can thank us later for picking up your slack."
Ronnie's eyes narrowed. "What the hell are you saying?"
Electra turned, stabbing Ronnie with a scalding glare. "What do you think? We're HSSC. Our mission was to infiltrate and dismantle. Our cover was blown, and we were ambushed. It was only by luck that none of us were killed."
"I don't believe you."
"It doesn't matter what you believe. You're in over your head, Agent Banks. Our authority supersedes yours, and I'm giving you a direct order to release us. You don't want to impede our investigation any further, I assure you. You know what happens to those who do."
Ronnie stared into the eyes of the fiery-haired woman. Could she be telling the truth? There was something behind her words, something hidden behind her fierce demeanor. She wanted Ronnie to believe her. Desperately. A bead of sweat slid down Electra's forehead, dripping off the tip of her perfect nose.
Ronnie folded her arms. "You're lying."
"What?"
"The HSSC would never botch an operation so badly. Had they been involved, there would have been quite a few bodies left behind before they went down. I'm willing to bet that the only blood at the scene belongs to you three. Someone ambushed you; that much is sure. But it wasn't any undercover op gone wrong. We'll get to the bottom of this. After you've been processed, maybe I'll tell you what we find."
Ramses lifted his head. Like Ulysses, his face was painfully bruised. Despite that, he spoke in a deep and commanding voice. "You're going to try to arrest us? Denizens of Haven Core? You don't have the authority."
"Authority? If you were really HSSC someone with authority would have already arrived to claim you." Ronnie watched Ramses' face sag, confirming the truth. "Even if you were just a few Denizens slumming for thrills, someone with authority would have pulled your feet from the fire. But no one is coming for you. You're all alone out here. Which means you're under my authority."
She turned to Sergeant Mack. "Process them. Get their injuries treated and put them in lockup."
To his credit, the sergeant didn't hesitate despite the visible unease on his face. "Right away, Agent." Turning to his squad, he bellowed orders. "All right, you got your orders, ladies. Let's get these suspects processed."
The Denizens' expressions slowly changed from haughty calm to mounting horror as they were freed from their shackles only to be cuffed again by the stony-faced RCE unit. The crowds burst into wild applause and cheering as the Denizens were led into an armored transport.
Ronnie motioned to Sergeant Mack. "I'm coming with."
"You sure, Ronnie? Heard about how the last transport went down. That was just some lowlife perp. This bust is a hundred times more volatile. Could get messy."
"All the more reason for an extra set of eyes. I need roving drones with high alert threat scanners. Keep a sharp lookout for any rooftop movement. I'm not losing anyone this time. And I'm not giving up this bust."
Mack nodded. "Like you say, Agent."
She opened the door and jumped into the passenger seat of the transport. The driver gave her a thumbs up. His voice crackled over the datcom.
"Got drones in the air and eyes on the rooftops. You give us the green light, Agent."
"Let's do it, then."
She glanced behind, were a narrow window allowed a view of the captive Denizens. Huddled together under the watchful eyes of armored RCE guardsmen, they didn't look regal or extraordinary at all. They were just people dressed in peculiar robes, disheveled and pitiful. Having realized their bluff was called, they broke down like any other suspect. Ulysses had his face in his hands. Electra glanced up, meeting Ronnie's gaze. Mortification and hatred glimmered in her eyes, but she looked away first.
The pilot waved a hand. "Got a priority call coming in. Patching it through."
Commissioner Miller's angry voice buzzed over the com. "Agent Banks, what the hell do you think you're doing?"
"Bringing in some suspects, sir."
He made a strangled sound. "I'm watching you on the news, Agent. Those so-called suspects are Denizens of Haven Core."
"I'm aware of that, sir."
"Then you're aware that we have no authority to arrest them. They handle their own cases. You're not about to
bring HSSC down on my neck. I'm ordering you to release them."
She whirled her finger at the pilot, indicating take-off. "I'm sorry, sir, but I can't hear you. Must be some interference."
"You're not using that flimsy excuse on me. I know the lines are good. I'm not taking the heat for this. You let those Denizens go. That's an order!"
"You're breaking up, sir. I'll see you at the precinct."
"Agent. You'll lose your shield for this. Do you hear me? You'll be the one in a cell!"
She cut the call off, glancing outside the window. The transport propelled upward, thrusters expelling clouds of vapor as they took the vehicle upward. The crowds lit up from the glow, cheering as the transport gained speed, maneuvering through the tangle of crisscrossed structures.
The pilot glanced at her. "Sure about this, Agent? Commish sounded pretty steamed."
She took a deep breath, suddenly itching for a vape despite quitting years ago. "Surer than I've been in a long time."
Ⓥ
Several hours later, she dropped her floater down on a drive in the Districts. The rising sun cast sharp rays between the buildings, nearly blinding her. Exiting the vehicle, she strode toward a dilapidated brownstone building. The door admitted her automatically. The interior was staged like a place for sale or rent. Clean and tidy, but without personality and unused in appearance. She strode up to the master bedroom. Taking a deep breath, she entered.
A body of a man lay on the bed, shrouded by clean white linen. The bed itself was a medical capsule, sealing the body inside. The man's head was emaciated, bones jutting against the parchment skin. Tubes protruded from his mouth and the veins of his bony arms. A cap was snugly fitted over his head, overlaid with blinking sensors. The only sound was the hissing of the air system as it fed oxygen to his body.
A large shape moved in the corner. Electric blue eyes glowed from the shadows of a metallic face.
"Sorry I let you down, Ronnie," Isaac said.
"You didn't." She pulled a chair from the wall, dragged it beside him and sat down. Exhaling a long breath, she released the tension she'd been holding all night.
"I got the call. Heard Dens were involved. I…just froze, Ronnie. Got flashbacks of that night. The truck, the blinding light. The pain…it wasn't just a memory. It was like living it all over again. Imagine that. In this body…" He glanced down at himself. "I felt pain. It should be impossible."
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