The Face of a Rogue Page 5

  The waiter bowed again, turned and left without another word.

  “What are we gonna do?” Marvellus asked. “Wait for Dr. Rasmus to give us new assignments?”

  “I don’t see another option.” Ivan ran a hand over his head. He looked around the dining room. “These people just go on about their business, like nothing happened.”

  “Nothing did for them,” Marvellus said. “They all have jobs. Some of them are on their lunch breaks, some are taking a break from shopping…” His voice trailed off.

  “I feel like shit, you know?”

  Marvellus nodded. “I guess when you’re out, you’re out.”

  “Yeah,” Ivan said. “Makes you wonder who else is out.”

  “And what they’re doing right now.”

  Silver sat at a large desk in her office on Level Three of the Underground. She tapped a virtual keyboard and signed in to her administrative profile. She quickly scanned the holographic display.

  SILVER LONG

  ADMIN LEVEL: TBD

  SECURITY LEVEL: 4

  Her ears burned. “Security level four? One up from the bottom? That’s the thanks I get for all my hard work and loyalty?” She pulled up a second display. Let’s see who else is at my level. Her eyes narrowed. Of course, Duncan, blah, blah, blah, and Macey… She scrolled the remainder of the level four personnel list. …and a bunch of losers I’ve never heard of.

  She moved her finger smoothly over the virtual mouse pad and selected the heading YOUR LEADERS. Uh-huh, she thought as she scrolled again. Levi Asshole, Dr. Rasmus, Angelica Asshole, John Logan— Wait, Logan? That idiot? She pounded the power button to shut down the display and pushed her rolling chair away from the desk.

  “You’re going to pay for this, Leader. Ohh, how you’re going to pay!” She stood and snatched her cell from the desk. In the meantime, I guess I should try to get some real info for Yaz if I expect anything from him. She flipped through her contacts. Duncan. Now where are you? Level Seven.

  The restaurant manager met ten security guards at the entrance to the Executive Dining Room. “We’ve tracked a high priority security risk to this location, sir,” the lead guard said.

  “Of course,” the manager said. “Feel free—” The lead guard pushed him aside as he motioned to the others. The guards separated into five pairs and pressed into the crowded establishment.

  Ivan looked up from his salad. He motioned toward the entrance. “Hey, check that out. Someone’s in serious trouble.”

  Marvellus turned to see the activity. “Yes, someone is.” He shrugged and turned back to his pizza. “We know it’s not us. We’re peons now.”

  Ivan couldn’t resist a smile. “Ha! Speaking of peons, Silver just walked in.”

  Silver stood just inside the restaurant next to the maître d' station and panned her cell around the dining room. Where are you, Duncan?

  Marvellus glanced over his shoulder. “She’s tracking something, or someone.”

  “And she’s walking this way,” Ivan said, raising his napkin to wipe the corners of his mouth.

  Silver dropped her cell into a front pocket as she approached the pair. She nodded to the scientists as she sat down in one of two empty chairs. “Duncan, Macey. What are you losers up to?”

  Ivan sat back and folded his arms across his chest. “Sure, have a seat, Silver.”

  Marvellus sucked a gulp of his soda through the straw. “Guess that makes three losers at the table.”

  “Fine, whatever,” Silver said. “What’s the status with you guys? Where do you go from here?”

  “What?” Ivan raised his brow in mock surprise. “Is there actually something the all-knowing, all-powerful Silver Long doesn’t know?”

  “Sure, toy with me now, Duncan. I may be down, but I’m not out. Not by a long shot.”

  “Can we not play cat and mouse, or whatever it is that’s going on here?” Marvellus swiped at the leftover ranch dressing with a piece of pizza crust. “What do you want from us?”

  As the restaurant manager strolled by, Silver turned and snapped her fingers. “Something to drink, please.”

  The manager stopped. “Pardon, ma’am, I’ll send a waiter.”

  Silver’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t need a waiter. Just send my usual drink.”

  Ivan smiled at Marvellus.

  The manager motioned to a nearby waiter and pointed at Silver as he walked away.

  “What are you two smiling about?” she said.

  “You’re about to find out what being on our level truly means,” Ivan said, looking up at the waiter.

  The waiter bowed. “Ma’am?”

  “Yes, my usual drink, please.” She turned back to Ivan and Marvellus. “Let’s get something straight. I’m not on your level. You two are barely level four security.”

  “We’ve seen the database,” Ivan said. “You’re level four just like us.”

  “Excuse me, ma’am. There are no ‘usuals’ flagged to your account. What would you like to drink?”

  Silver paused and closed her eyes. “Well, haven’t they just thought of everything.” She turned and looked up at the waiter. “I’ll have a large ice water with two lemon wedges.”

  “As you wish.”

  “Told you,” Marvellus said. “You’re just like the rest of us peons now.”

  “I still have a special assignment from Levi,” Silver said. “Have either of you been given assignments?”

  “Still trying to get information from us?” Ivan dropped his napkin on his plate.

  “All right,” Silver said. “Have you spoken to Dr. Yaz? I have.”

  Marvellus froze mid-bite with the last morsel of pizza crust. His mouth remained open as his eyes locked on Ivan’s.

  The lead security guard exited the kitchen and hurried past the trio’s table as he spoke into his shoulder mic. “…tracker led us to a salt shaker in the kitchen…” His voice faded as his pace put distance between himself and the three demoted Changers.

  Silver looked at Ivan. “They were looking for Yaz, you know. I tried tracking him myself. My locator just kept spinning.”

  “How do you know they were looking for Felix?” Ivan asked.

  Silver leaned forward and looked around. “Because I’ve spoken with him. I don’t know how he’s doing it, but he can’t be located. I think he’s still in the Underground, but I can’t prove it.”

  Marvellus tossed the last pizza bite into his salad bowl. “Why should we believe what you’re telling us?”

  Silver sighed and threw her hands up. “Believe what you want. Why would I lie about this? You want proof? I’ll get back in touch with you after I meet with him.”

  Now Ivan and Marvellus leaned forward. “Wait,” Marvellus said. “Aren’t you being tracked, just like us?”

  “Sure,” Ivan agreed. “You’ll just lead them to Felix. He would never allow that to happen.”

  Silver smiled through half-closed eyes. “Best get on the right side, boys. Dr. Yaz has made arrangements to disable the tracker in my chip. I’ll meet with him when it’s disabled.”

  “Only Felix could do that,” Ivan said. “And you’re not smart enough to have thought of it on your own.” He looked at Marvellus. “Sounds convincing.”

  “Okay,” Marvellus conceded. “If you actually meet with Felix, let him know we’re waiting to receive new assignments from Dr. Rasmus. For the time being, we’ve been granted minimal access as volunteers in the junior high school lab. We get to help the teenyboppers.”

  Silver snorted. “Good.” She slapped the tabletop. “I’m leaving. When that stupid waiter gets here with my water, tell him never mind.” She stood to leave. “Service around here has really gone downhill. I’ll be in touch.”

  Chapter 8

  Majority Rules

  Ryker smoothed his long brown hair behind his ears and tied a black bandanna around his head. He surveyed the Punks in attendance at the impromptu meeting in the
Hangar. “Okay, partner.” He looked at Dion. “Only one not here that matters is Margot. She’s still out in the compound.”

  Dion took a mental roll call. “Jasper and Lace already voted. Jimbo, have you heard back from Griff and Nevada?”

  “Yep. Decisive, both of ’em, but they don’t agree.”

  “What’s their votes?” Dion asked.

  “Griffin says let her back in. Nevada says let her live but kick her out.”

  Dion glanced at Raymond. “Get Margot in here.”

  Geezer stood by the inspection pit, his hands jammed into the pockets of his black parka. His bony legs shivered inside the legs of his tan overalls when the wind swept in as Raymond exited. “Shut the damn door, Ray,” he cackled.

  Pops smiled. “Get some meat on them bones, old-timer, and you won’t be so sensitive.”

  “Hey, Pops,” Dion said. “Anyone you can think of that we need to have in on this vote?”

  Pops stuffed a wad of chew into his mouth. “Depends on exactly what the vote means.” He looked around the room. “Is this an up or down, keep her or not? Or are we talking about life or death like last time?”

  Geezer raised a hand. “I’m votin’ keep her, Dion.”

  “We’re not voting right now,” Dion said. He looked at Pops. “I’m keeping the discussion short. I want to hear in or out, live or die. And I just want to get a quick opinion from everyone. I don’t want to rehash all the BS from the last few months. Whichever way you vote, I want to hear your reason.” He eyed Winter. “Not that anyone’s reason would nullify their vote. If you just have a good or bad feeling about it, I want to know.”

  “You’ve been damn quiet, Win,” Ryker said. “What’re you thinking?”

  Winter stood next to Pops, hands on her hips. “You know me best, Ryk. I wanna hear everyone else’s reasons and votes first.”

  Raymond walked in from the compound with Margot. “Why’s that, Winter?” he asked. “You gonna vote based on someone else’s vote?”

  Geezer’s face soured. “Shut the damn door, Ray!”

  Winter turned to face Raymond. She dropped her arms to her sides. “You know what, Ray? You’ve been my right hand for the last two years. Don’t be stepping up on me now.”

  As intimidating as Winter appeared, Raymond backed down out of respect for her authority over him. “Just asking, Win. I think we should all be free to voice our opinions without any reprisals.” He crossed his arms and turned to Dion. “Right, boss?”

  Dion ignored the question. “Okay, looks like we got everyone here. Everybody agree?”

  Ryker strolled over to his dirt bike and half sat, half leaned on the seat. “I think Pops has something on his mind.”

  Dion looked at Krystal, still standing next to Pops. He raised an eyebrow. “Well?”

  Pops glanced back and forth between Krystal and Dion. “Well…”

  “Go ahead, Pops,” Ryker said. “It’s just us.”

  “Well, I think the Three Amigos should be in on this.”

  “No fuckin’ way,” Raymond protested.

  Margot smiled. “Whadda you got against the Three Amigos, buddy? I kinda like the idea.”

  “They don’t hold any rank,” Dion said.

  “They’re loose cannons,” Jimbo agreed.

  “Wait,” Krystal said. “Who are the Three Amigos?”

  Geezer took off his glasses and pulled the rag out of his back pocket. He pointed his spectacles at Krystal. “They’s the ones told us about you, for starters. You know ’em. They talked to you when you were holed up at that Changers outpost.”

  Krystal’s eyes narrowed. “Those guys? Wow. Seems to me they must be in pretty good standing for you people to even be debating whether they get a vote in this.”

  “Hep,” Geezer said. “Lemme tell you who wouldn’t be standing here if’n not for the Three Amigos.” One at a time, he pointed his rag at Ryker, Winter, Raymond and Dion. “Him, her, him and him. Those guys pulled all yer asses out of the fire.”

  “He’s right,” Pops agreed.

  Ryker caught Dion’s eye. “Can’t argue with that, partner.”

  Dion motioned to Jimbo. “Get Will on the radio. Get a vote from them.”

  Jimbo walked swiftly to the door leading to the Depot. “In or out?”

  Dion grabbed Jimbo’s arm. “In, out, live or die.”

  “You got it.”

  “That’s bullshit,” Raymond said. “We should all get to decide if they can even vote.”

  Dion snapped his head in Raymond’s direction. “When you rise up as the leader of this organization, you can vote on whatever you want. I say they get a vote.”

  Raymond scowled. “This is no fucking organization. It’s not even organized anymore.”

  Margot stepped over and stood next to Winter. “’Sup with your partner, sister?”

  Winter stared straight ahead. “He’s being an ass.”

  “Being an ass and digging a hole for himself all at the same time. Two and two says that makes him an asshole.”

  “You got that right.”

  Dion held up his hand. “All right, everyone.” He looked at Krystal. “It all comes down to this vote, here and now. Everyone gets a vote. The vote is final.” He looked around the room at each Punk before turning to Raymond. “And everyone accepts the final vote. This will include the two Changers, Garrison and Dennis, sitting in my quarters right now. They’ll go the way of Krystal. If she’s voted in, they’re in, and vice versa.” He shifted his gaze to Winter. “And for the record, I’m voting last.”

  Winter nodded.

  Ryker raised his hand and stood up from the dirt bike. “I’ll go first.” He deliberately faced Dion, not turning to see the faces of his comrades or Krystal. “I vote she lives. I vote we bring her back in as one of us.” Now he turned to Krystal. “I also suggest we promote her to second level commander.”

  Dion raised an eyebrow. “Reasons?”

  “She saved our asses. The Chybrids were as good as over the Perimeter Wall until she showed up. She didn’t have to do what she did.”

  Jimbo stepped into the Hangar from the Depot. He nodded at Dion.

  “I’ll vote,” Pops said. “Me and Geezer vote the same as Ryk, for all the same reasons.”

  Geezer whipped his specs off and snapped his head toward Pops. “Hep, I’ll vote for myself, you old fart.”

  Pops spit his wad into a mason jar and smiled.

  Geezer looked across the room at Dion. He motioned to Pops with his glasses. “What he said. And that’s my vote!”

  Dion looked at Raymond. “Ray?”

  “Kill. Out.” He folded his arms across his chest.

  “Margot?” Dion asked.

  “I’m gonna have to halfway agree with Ray. I say out, but let her live.”

  “I’m with Margot,” Jimbo said. “Out. Live.”

  Dion looked at Winter. “You’re up, Win.”

  Winter glanced at Jimbo, then Ryker. She adjusted the 9mm pistol on her hip. “Out. Live.”

  “So it’s up to me, then,” Dion said. He walked to the center of the Hangar and faced Krystal. “I’m going to stick with my original decision. Thank you, Krys, from the bottom of my heart, and on behalf of all of the Punks, for everything you did for us. I vote to keep you out of the Punks, but let you live.”

  Raymond clenched his fist and flexed his body. “Yes!”

  “That’s six to six, people,” Dion said. “Anyone disagrees, correct me, but here’s my count. The Punks voting to let Peterson live and to bring her back in are Ryk, Pops, Geezer, Griffin, Jasper and Lace. That’s six. The votes to keep her out of the organization are me, Jimbo, Winter, Margot, Nevada and Raymond. That’s six.” He looked at Pops. “But there’s a tiebreaker. The Three Amigos have voted. With three votes, there will be no tie.”

  He turned to Jimbo. “Jim?”

  “Well, you’re right about there being no tie. The Three Amigos’ vo
te was unanimous.”

  Krystal adjusted the rifles on her shoulders. She didn’t know these guys, and she had no reason to hope one way or another.

  Pops looked at the side of Krystal’s face.

  Winter folded her arms across her chest to mirror Raymond’s stance.

  Margot leaned against the workbench, thumbs hooked in the front pockets of her vest.

  Geezer removed his glasses again.

  Jimbo gazed around the Hangar. “They all voted live and in.”

  “Bullshit!” Raymond shouted. He turned, stormed out of the Hangar and left the door open.

  Geezer scowled at the open door. Then he looked at Pops and cackled. “Hep.”

  Dion walked over to Krystal. “Well, Krys.” He smiled and held out his fist. “Welcome back.”

  Krystal pounded a fist on top of his. “Thanks, Dion.” She looked around at the roomful of Punk commanders. “I’d like to say a few things, then I have some questions.”

  Ryker stood and strode over to Krystal. She held out a fist. He bumped it and immediately embraced her in a full two-armed hug. “Welcome back, Krys.”

  She returned the hug with one arm.

  Ryker turned to Dion. “Rank?”

  “Second level commander,” Dion said, eyeing Krystal. “Now, you have something to say?”

  “First, I want to let everyone here know you won’t regret this vote. I made a mistake becoming a Changer. I also want all of you to know I never compromised the Punks in any way, despite the fact that was my assignment from the Changers.”

  “I believe her,” Pops said.

  “So do I,” Ryker agreed.

  Krystal un-shouldered her rifles and leaned them against Ryker’s dirt bike. “There’s one more thing. I’m not a Changer anymore.”

  Winter’s eyes widened. “Wait.” She looked at Lace, then back to Krystal. “We all thought that was irreversible.”

  “It’s a long story, and it’s not something that’s ever happened before. I was the first.”

  “You must have some contacts pretty high up in the Changers, then,” Lace said.