The Face of a Rogue Read online

  “Mmm-hmm,” Winter said, eyeing Silver. “Ryk’s not even here. He’s got no say about the teams?”

  “He’s deferred authority of these operations to me.” Krystal checked the safety on her 9mm handgun and slipped the pistol into the holster strapped to her thigh. “I’ll update him on the way into Tremayne.” She strode to the doorway and unhooked her duster from the adjacent coatrack. “Everybody stay in contact with each other.” She buttoned her duster to mid-breast and looked up. “Any questions?”

  Fred and Thomas pushed their chairs back and stood from the table. “I have a question,” Fred said. “Any reason for Thomas and I to change our appearances? Or Silver?”

  “Well, you’ve been to Tremayne, so you might consider it.” She looked at the other two Rogue Changers. “To my knowledge, you haven’t been to Tremayne.” She shrugged. “Change or not—your choice.”

  “Makes sense,” Fred agreed. “So today we’re in observe-and-report mode only, right? No intervention.”

  “Mostly correct,” Krystal said. “The adult Bystanders are beholden to the Changers by their own choice. The kids, not so much.”

  The four walked from the table to meet Krystal at the door to the communications room. “If you see a kid that’s obviously in trouble, intervene. But only to the extent necessary to defuse the situation. Intervention, yes. But minimal.”

  Winter checked her nine and slipped on a figure-hugging leather jacket. “I’m intervening for Punks.”

  Krystal looked at Winter. “Absolutely, Win. Good point. Punks are always high priority.” She surveyed the two teams before her. “I feel good. We have the best of the best here. Let’s head out. I’m gonna check on Ryker, then I’ll touch base with you all when we hit the city limit.”

  Krystal stopped short when she entered the communications room. The Three Amigos stood side by side on the opposite end of the room, facing her. Jimbo was in his usual spot in front of the main communications console. Ryker and Dion stood, arms crossed, speaking to two Punk security personnel dressed in black military fatigues. The security guards supported a groggy-looking Raymond between them. Raymond’s eyes appeared glassy. The left side of his face sported a huge red welt. His normally slicked-back hair was severely out of place.

  “What’s going on here, Jim?” Krystal said, taking in the scene.

  Jimbo leaned back in his chair, hands behind his head. “Our pal Raymond just tried to take me out. Said the Amigos were next on his list.”

  “Because?” Krystal asked.

  “Because he doesn’t like that we let you back in. Said he was gonna take out everyone that allowed it.”

  Krystal snorted. “Is anyone surprised? He tried that with me when I first came back.”

  “Looking back, we shoulda known.”

  Krystal tipped her chin toward Raymond. “So what’s happening?”

  Jimbo smiled. “He’s gettin’ the Krystal Peterson send-off. Right through the Wall.” Jimbo turned to Krystal. “Care to watch?”

  “Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” she said, walking across the room toward Raymond.

  She stopped in front of the Three Amigos and looked into their eyes, one at a time. She felt the recognition from the trio. A kindred spirit stirred inside her. Her eyes moistened as the three held their fists out to her. Without a word she bumped their fists. She lingered momentarily—involuntarily—then turned away.

  The Three Amigos watched Krystal as she stepped next to Ryker.

  “You’re just in time for the send-off,” Ryker said.

  “So I hear.”

  The two security personnel gripped Raymond’s biceps tightly, turned him around and walked him to the door. Dion and Ryker followed the trio out into the compound with Krystal behind them.

  The air was still thick with fog. Lights inside the compound mixed with the increasing daybreak, turning the air white. Visibility was about fifty feet. The group headed around the building toward the thirty-foot-high Perimeter Wall. When the six Punks reached the walk-through gate, two additional security guards greeted them. One guard pushed the door open and stepped back.

  Outside the Wall, with no lights, the fog was gray against the day. The first guard at the gate addressed Dion. “Sir?”

  The two guards supporting Raymond turned their captive around to face the leader of the Punks.

  Raymond’s eyes narrowed. “Fuck you, Dion.”

  Dion stepped up to the new outcast and pressed his chest against Raymond’s. “That you’re not dead is the last good thing you get from me. You’re not a Punk, by your own choice. You did this to yourself. Don’t let me see or hear from you again. Physically, you live. But you’re dead to me and you’re dead to the Punks.” He turned his back to Raymond.

  Ryker nodded to the two security guards. “Cut his cuffs.”

  The guards turned him around, and the lead guard used a short five-inch blade to slice the zip ties. He pushed Raymond toward the darkness, but Raymond stopped at the threshold.

  Ryker raised his boot to the small of Raymond’s back and shoved. The ex-Punk stumbled into the murky fog and whipped around. He stared at Ryker and Krystal. “You’re dead, Krystal.”

  A heavy cloud of gray mist drifted between Raymond and the opening, obscuring the former Punk. A security guard slammed the gate closed.

  “You’re all dead!” Raymond screamed from outside the Wall.

  Chapter 24

  Convergence

  Butterflies swirled in Curtis’s stomach as the Hyperloop slowed in the tunnel under Tremayne’s City Hall. The feeling was reminiscent of his first ride as a kid on an elevator. He smiled and absentmindedly ran his hand over his head. The old Mohawk was gone, a thing of the past. His wavy blond hair felt soft and nice against his palm. The butterflies persisted after the vehicle stopped. His mind raced. Krystal. I’m back!

  “We have arrived in Tremayne,” a voice sounded from the Hyperloop’s overhead speaker system. “Please prepare to disembark.”

  Dr. Rasmus found it hard to contain his enthusiasm. He rubbed his hands together. “I am looking forward to the demonstration, Leader.”

  “As am I,” Levi said, rising from his seat next to the door of the underground vehicle. He stepped into the aisle and waved his hand in front of him. “After you, Ms. DeMone.”

  Angelica nodded to Levi and stepped off the Hyperloop into the terminal. She surveyed the high ceiling and stainless-steel walls. Vertical strips of blue lighting separated large panels lining the wide thoroughfare. A round glass elevator occupied one corner of the room, its door open.

  Levi’s wingtips clicked on the highly polished floor as he strolled over to Angelica. “I like the quaintness of this terminal.”

  Angelica checked the time on her cell and glanced at the Hyperloop. “How long does it take them to get off that train?” She looked at Levi. “I do have other business in the Underground, Leader.”

  Levi stood, hands folded behind him, and watched the three remaining Changers step out of the train onto the platform. “I am trusting in our Dr. Rasmus, dear. I am confident this demonstration will be worth our time.” He smiled and walked toward a large electronic billboard. “Speaking of which, have you seen our new promotional signs for the SOUL Chybrid project?”

  Angelica stood still. “Does it matter? The Hyperloop is for Changers only. This terminal…” She looked around. “Everything here is for the benefit of Changers that use this facility. Which, by the way, is present company. Look around. We’re the only ones here. Why are we wasting funds placing promotional billboards in a facility only we use?”

  “It’s his ego, Ms. DeMone,” Xander said as he approached from the Hyperloop. He turned to Levi. “No offense, sir.”

  Levi ignored the doctor’s comment and walked toward the elevator. “Right this way, Ms. DeMone. There are some people you must meet before we proceed.”

  When Curtis stepped off the Hyperloop, he hurried to catch up with Levi a
nd company at the elevator.

  Johnny grabbed Curtis’s shoulder from behind. “Hold up, little guy. Our leader specifically ordered me to instruct you in some of the finer points of our organization.”

  Curtis stopped and turned to face Johnny. “And there’s a finer point to walking toward an elevator? I think I can handle this.”

  Johnny reached for a lapel on Curtis’s sport coat. “Listen up, buddy—”

  Curtis swiped his hand upward, smacking Johnny’s arm to the side. “Listen up what?” He glanced behind him. Levi, Angelica and Xander were boarding the glass elevator. “You heard Levi. I’m part of his inner circle.” He looked Johnny up and down. “Just like you.”

  Johnny held his hands up in a no-foul gesture. “Whoa, settle down, buddy—”

  “And stop calling me buddy. I’m not your buddy.”

  Johnny shoved his hands into his pants pockets and tried his best to appear relaxed. “Yeah, okay, Dyer. One of these days, you’re gonna need me to show you a few things or help you out.” He tipped his chin up. “I’m here when that day comes.”

  “Yeah, I’ll remember that.” Curtis turned and hurried toward the trio on the elevator.

  Silver stood next to Winter at the driver’s side of Winter’s Lenco BearCat. “We’re riding in this?” Silver said.

  Winter double-checked the lock on a lower storage compartment. “It’s standard issue, my friend.” She looked down at Silver. “You’re riding shotgun.”

  Silver frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean? I’ve never used a gun in my life. I wouldn’t know the first thing—”

  “I said you’re riding shotgun. Not shooting one.”

  Silver crossed her arms. “I’m not doing anything with a gun, shot or otherwise. This mission is observe and report, remember?”

  Winter took a deep breath. “It’s a figure of speech, a reference to the old days. I’m driving, see.” She opened the driver’s door and pointed across the cab’s interior. “See that little chair over there on the other side? You sit there. There’s no gun. Riding there is just referred to as ‘riding shotgun.’”

  “Yeah,” Silver said. “I got it.” She stomped quickly around the front of the truck to the passenger side, muttering under her breath. “Now I have to try to learn some ancient bohemian language.” A quick slip in the mud caused her to smack her hand on the vehicle’s grill. It was wet and cold. She wiped the moisture on her slacks before opening the passenger door. “I’ll get you for this, Felix.”

  Fred stepped on the rail under the driver’s door of his assigned BearCat and hoisted himself into the driver’s seat. “I finally feel like we might be productive since leaving the Underground.”

  Thomas was waiting in the shotgun seat. “I agree. I’ve been pretty antsy.” He looked out the windshield at the back of Krystal’s vehicle. “I’m damn curious what the Changers are doing now.”

  Fred fastened his five-point harness, surveyed the dash and flipped the intermittent wipers on. “Controls on this vehicle are intuitive.” He glanced at Thomas. “I agree about the Changers. But it’s not hard to figure out their direction, only the specifics.”

  “What do you mean? We’re hearing about this thing with children. Changers haven’t historically involved anyone younger than eighteen.”

  Fred glanced in the rearview mirror on the driver’s door. Winter’s vehicle sat idling behind him. Vapor exiting his own exhaust became indistinguishable from the fog. “I know the children play a role for whatever phase this is for the Changers. But I’m setting that aside to view the big picture first.”

  Okay,” Thomas said, looking across the cab at Fred. “The Changers are technology, first and foremost. Now what?”

  “Remember in the old days, tech companies would come out with the newest, fastest computer chips and system parts?” Fred hung his left wrist over the steering wheel. “But even though you’d buy something that was the fastest on the market, you knew they were already working on the next fastest one?”

  Thomas shrugged. “Yeah. So?”

  “So it’s simple. It’s all just plain and simple when you break it down. We—you and I—were intimately involved in not only the Change technology, but also the Chybrid project. But even while that was going on, the Changers were working on the next big thing.”

  “I don’t see how that could be,” Thomas said. “I mean, we were the Changers’ top scientists. We reported to Felix, who developed and orchestrated everything we did.” He glanced out the side window. “You mean to tell me Felix was working on something even newer and better as we were developing the Chybrids?”

  “Well, there’s a variable I hadn’t thought of up until we left the Changers.”

  Thomas turned to Fred. “And that is?”

  Fred stared through the windshield. “Levi Aldrich.”

  Thomas sat for a moment gazing at the side of Fred’s face. He raised his brow. “Of course. Levi trusts no one.”

  “Right. Remember before Felix…what’s his name?”

  “It doesn’t matter. Your point is he gets someone else. He can’t have any single person knowing everything.”

  Fred looked at Thomas. “Except himself. He trades out his latest, greatest scientist for a new one to develop the next big thing.”

  Thomas shook his head. “I guess that would come in handy if he wanted to use the new technology against his former top scientist.”

  “Exactly,” Fred said. “And against any team that reported to the top guy.”

  Thomas gazed out the windshield as Ryker opened the passenger door of Krystal’s vehicle and hopped inside. “As I think about it, that must necessarily include his entire inner circle. Even we were expendable.”

  Fred chuckled and shook his head. “That’s funny in a way. Silver doesn’t know it, but she never stood a chance either.”

  “Only one from that team that’s still there is John Logan,” Thomas said.

  Krystal looked across the cab of her armored vehicle at Ryker. “Ready, partner?”

  Ryker smiled. “Let’s do it.”

  Krystal pulled the gearshift into drive and drove forward through the Punks’ compound toward the exit. She flipped the mouthpiece on her headset down to check the two-way radio. “Jimbo, it’s Krys. Radio check. Do you copy?”

  “Loud and clear, Krys.”

  “10-4, Jim. Who’s at the entry checkpoint?”

  “You got Ace on duty.”

  “Sounds good. Ace, Krystal. Do you copy?”

  “Ace. Go ahead, girl.”

  “Hey, Ace. I’m leading a caravan of three Cats, heading your direction. The fog is still super thick here. Can you keep it clear till we get out?”

  “Sounds good, Krys. Traffic’s nothing right now. I’ll keep it that way.”

  Ryker reached onto the dash and grabbed his sunglasses. “Sun coming up is doing a number on this fog. Looks like a wall of white right now.”

  “It’ll only get worse when the sun hits us full blast,” Krystal said. “My eyes are better than yours at adjusting to this.” She glanced across at him. “Just means we’ll have to get closer to the action.”

  Ryker stared at the mist through the windshield. “If there is any.”

  “Oh there’ll be action, partner.” Krystal pressed the accelerator pedal. “I can just about guarantee you that.”

  Chapter 25

  Ray’s Way

  Felix reclined in his favorite chair in front of monitor wall number three in his quarters. Hot, he thought, kicking off his slippers. His eyes flitted about the video display as he reached—without looking—into a metal container on his left. He slowly placed a large cheese puff into his mouth. There was no crunch as he held the snack between his tongue and the roof of his mouth. When the cheese puff was nearly dissolved, he grabbed a glass off the adjacent table and washed the tasty morsel down with ice-cold diet soda.

  Hmm. Where to go today? Let’s check on my new friends, the
Punks. With his right hand, Felix manipulated a stationary mouse and zoomed to a location outside the Perimeter Wall at Punk headquarters. Goodness, the fog. He tapped a virtual keyboard on the tray in front of him. Advanced laser imaging technology cut through the murk and brought the huge structure into view. He zoomed again. Yes. Activity!

  Raymond trudged through the mud outside the Wall, heading for Tremayne. He chose the shortest route, knowing it was only five miles before the wide curve would land him at the nearest remote outpost.

  He stopped for a moment to rub his hands together. He glanced up at the towering structure and exhaled warm breath into cupped hands. “Fuck!” His jeans were damp and cold on his thighs. He sniffed hard. Swiping his forearm across his runny nose only served to transfer the moisture from the sleeve of his leather jacket to his face. He winced when his arm brushed against the welt on the side of his face.

  He began to jog, holding his ribcage and slipping on the uneven terrain with every other step.

  Felix popped and sucked another cheese puff. He followed Raymond’s movements on the monitor. What are you doing out there, young man?

  He paused and looked up when a ceiling speaker sounded. “Attention, Security Detail Nine. Subject GPS located on Level Six. Stand by for coordinates.”

  Expressionless, Felix turned his attention back to the monitor. He took another swig of his soda and manipulated the tracking pad. He framed Raymond into a grid on the monitor and tapped a button on the virtual keypad. We’ll just auto-follow you, young man.

  The ceiling speaker sounded again. “Security Team Nine. Coordinates on Level Six are 33°48'01.4"N 114°31'54.9"W.”

  Felix ignored the voice.

  Fuckin’ Punks. Fuckin’ Dion. Fuckin’ Ryker. Fuckin’ Jimbo. Fuckin’ Krystal. Raymond found a cadence as he continued his jog, keeping the Perimeter Wall in sight to his right. His upper chest burned as each breath he exhaled added to the tule fog. The thick air was deafening. He stuck a finger in each ear, wiggled them around and swallowed, as if popping his ears would help.