The Nexus Series: Books 1-3 (41 page)

2

EVERYTHING
happened too fast.

The young Korean
security officer next to the mayor raised his gun as he stepped toward the
leader of the masked gunmen.

Several bursts
erupted from the leader’s
Belentzer
.

The security man
went down with a choking sound.

The press members
and the government reps were throwing themselves onto the floor.  Those on
the platform pulled the new mayor down with them.

Another security
man made the mistake of drawing his gun and went down.

The other
security personnel discarded their weapons and dropped face down with their
hands behind their heads.

The masked
leader began barking orders, unintelligible over the screams and gasps. 
He was saying something about no one leaving, no one getting hurt.  Some
of the gunmen were guarding the exits.  Others were stationed around the
room, weapons ready.  They weren’t firing.  Just standing there.

“Quiet!”
the
leader burst.

The chorus of
fear stilled into a tense silence.  No one moved.

“We’re not here
to hurt you,” the leader addressed them from behind his mask.  “If you all
cooperate, we’ll get this over with and you can all go home.”  He turned
to his companions.  “Let’s begin.”

One of the
figures in black unzipped a duffel bag.  She withdrew a video camera and
tripod.

Another was busy
at the computer console in the corner of the room.  He inserted something
into a socket and tapped at the keyboard.  “We’re in,” he said.

The masked woman
set the camera on the tripod.  “You’re live in three...two...one...”

THERE
were many thousands of computers, mobiles, and televisions routed into the
Governmental Complex’s network.  At the same instant every one of
them—every screen the massive island building contained—began broadcasting the
same image.

“Good morning,
GoCom
,” the masked man said.

“IT’S
not the first time we’ve had reason to suspect you of betraying the department,
Jillian,” Riley said through a frown.

Jill considered
making a run for it.  She could easily get past a withered old man in a
wheelchair.  But there were still the two guards outside the door. 
“It’s called going undercover,” she muttered.  “If I’m doing my job
correctly, it will look like I’m with the bad guys.”

“I checked the
department mission log.  You haven’t gone undercover for several weeks.”

“There’s more
going on here than you know, Riley.”

He
grimaced.  “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

One of the
guards knocked at the door.

“Not now,”
Riley growled.  “I’m going to ask you again, Jillian:  Did you or did
you not—?”

The knocking
grew more insistent.  “Chief Riley?” a mechanical voice asked.

“What is it?”
he demanded.

The guard’s
visored
helmet peeked into the room.  “Sorry to
interrupt, sir,” his distorted voice continued, “but you might want to check
your mobile.”

Riley grumbled
as he drew the device from his pocket.  “What could possibly—?”  He
froze.  Then he began manipulating the screen impatiently, but the
complex’s network was overriding anything he tried to do.  The same video
continued being displayed.  “What on Earth...?”

Jill fidgeted
impatiently.  “Can we get on with this?”

Riley switched
on his mobile’s volume.  “I don’t have to tell you,” a man’s gruff voice
came over the speaker, “if anyone attempts to stop what’s going on here, more
innocent lives will be lost.  But you have my word that so long as we are
not interfered with, these hostages will not be harmed.”

Riley thrust
the mobile in front of Jill’s face.  She saw the masked man toting a
Belentzer
3.

“Do you expect
me to believe,” Riley demanded, “that you have nothing to do with
this?”

“WE
haven’t come here to spill innocent blood,” the leader continued.  He
strode to the front of the room, and the woman at the tripod swiveled the
camera and to follow his movements.  He stepped next to the first fallen
security officer and shook his head.  “It was not our plan to take any
lives.”  He looked at the camera, eyes narrowing through the twin holes in
his mask.  “Except for one.”  He looked toward the platform. 
“Will you step this way, please, Miss Cole?”  His voice had become gentle,
as though asking a child to take his hand to cross the street.

The camera
shifted to a trembling Anne Marie Cole, lying flat on the platform along with
her security team.  She stared wide eyed at the man who had beckoned her.

“Miss Cole?” the
man repeated, still using that frighteningly calm voice.

She lifted
herself to her knees.

“No!” a guard
hissed at her, grabbing her arm.

“You’ll want to
cooperate, Miss Cole,” the gunman said, slightly more firmly, “or you and
everyone else here will be forced to witness more unnecessary deaths.”

She brushed
aside the security officer’s arm, stood, and strode quietly across the
platform.  Her face was expressionless.  When she had descended the
platform steps and stood next to the masked leader, he put an arm around her.

“You know,” he
said, facing the camera again, “I’m really a rather merciful man. 
Too
merciful.”  He tugged Miss Cole toward the tripod, leaning his own face
close to the camera’s lens.  “If I wasn’t, I’d burn this entire building
to the ground.”

THOUSANDS
of images of the masked man’s face accompanied the thousands of repetitions of
his voice throughout the halls and offices of
GoCom
,
while government officials and their underlings watched in shocked, motionless
silence.

“I hardly have
to tell you people what a den of iniquity this place is,” he said.  “Our
city rots while you high rollers sit behind your desks and take citizens’ tax
dollars to weave your little plots for your own gain.  You complain about
the crime on the streets and make your vows to change things in order to sway
the voters, but the real crimes are happening right here within these walls.”

He gestured to
the government officials lying prostrate on the platform, and the camera zoomed
in and panned along the pitiful sight.

“If I had any
moral courage at all,” the man’s voice went on, “I’d put a bullet in every one
of them.  It’s less than they deserve, and less than the citizens they
have wronged deserve.  But as I said, I’m merciful to a fault.”

The camera
swiveled back to the masked leader, still holding a pale-faced Anne Marie Cole
at his side.  He looked her in the eye.  “You’re going to be a
sacrificial lamb of sorts, Miss Cole,” he said, resuming his gentle tone. 
“You, as the new representative for this entire corrupt entity, will take the
fall for the whole.  In so doing, you will serve as a warning to your
associates, who will then have the chance to bring about a change long
overdue.”

The man shoved
her suddenly to the floor.  He raised his weapon toward her and put a
finger on the trigger.

JILL
had never seen Riley looking so desperate.  He stared slack-jawed at the
video, wincing as though afraid to watch yet unable to tear his wide eyes
away.  “No,” he whispered.  “No, no, no, no...”

“I only hope—”
the gunman said to the fallen mayor.

The sound cut
out.

“—THAT
your sacrifice will not be in vain.”  The gunman looked to the
camera.  “Watch carefully, you movers and shakers of our great city. 
You are about to witness the beginning of a new age—the coronation of...of
a...”  He paused, frowning evidently beneath his mask as he noticed the
man at the console waving wildly for his attention.  “What is it?” he
grated.

“There’s no
audio.”

“What do you
mean there’s
no audio?”

“The feed isn’t
working.  We have video but no audio.”

“Well,
fix
it!”

“I’m
trying.  But someone seems to have intercepted—”

“Good morning,
GoCom
,” a voice blared from the speakers mounted over the
press room.

THE
same voice was heard along with the live video on
GoCom’s
thousands of screens—a deep, smooth voice accented like the British of the Home
Planet.

“What our masked
friend was just saying,” the new narrator said, “which you were unable to hear,
was that
Anterra
is about to enter a new age. 
He is more right than he knows.”

The video showed
the masked man glaring toward his accomplice at the console.  The man at
the console just shrugged.

“How I would
love to dispute his accusations of a moment ago,” the new voice went on, “to
insist that this governing body is not as corrupt as he suggests.  But I
cannot disagree with his observations; only with his reaction to them.  Do
not forget this moment.  Let it serve as a reminder to you all—to those of
you who walk the hallowed halls of this Governmental Complex, and to those of
you who, like our masked friend, seek a solution through bloodshed.

“You will
remember,” the voice went on, “that we once aspired to true greatness.  It
was the vision of the makers of this satellite to create a place where we could
pursue our individual ambitions in peace and prosperity, a new world
characterized by honor and integrity.  Know that there are still those in
this city who hold these virtues dear and seek to cultivate them into the very
fiber of
Anterra
.  And there are those are ever
watchful, ever standing by, ready to see to it that our pursuit of greatness is
not stifled—not by our criminals, not by our citizens, not by our
authorities.  Remember that, my friends.  Remember this moment.”

SILENCE
reigned in the press room—in all of
GoCom
—for several
seconds after the disembodied speech had ended.

The leader of
the gunmen stood up straight as though coming out of a trance.  “Technical
difficulties and flowery words won’t stop us from doing what we have to do,” he
whispered fiercely, aiming his weapon once again at Mayor Cole.

A rapid-fire
burst echoed deafeningly in the press room.

3

ANNE
Marie Cole blinked.

The hostages
exchanged glances.

The gunman
looked at her, dumbfounded.  He cursed under his breath, jammed the muzzle
of his
Belentzer
into her chest, and fired several
more rounds.

She stared at
him, unmoving.

He growled,
tossing his own gun aside as he grabbed the one from the nearest of his
companions.

Another
rapid-fire burst.

Another stare.

“Blanks,” one of
the masked men muttered.

“Blanks,” another
said as she and the others examined their ammunition belts.

“
Blanks
,”
the leader spat.

“Blanks,” agreed
the fallen Korean security officer, leaping to his feet again and raising his
own weapon.

It wasn’t loaded
with blanks.

THE
Lioness stood in the doorway at the back of the abandoned factory,
drawing a tiny pocket knife from her jacket.

She braced
herself.

The small blade
pierced her forearm near her tattoo.  She winced as she pushed it
deeper.  Blood ran down her arm as she angled the blade to work a bead of
metal out of the wound.  She dropped it on the factory floor and stepped
out onto the cracked pavement of the alleyway.

THE
other security officers rearmed themselves.  Several of the masked gunmen
hit the floor, stunned.  The rest scrambled madly back into the hole by
which they’d entered the room.

The small space
below accessed a ladder descending into the darkness.  Down the rungs they
rushed, jostling each other mercilessly, several of them nearly falling down
the shaft.  Flashlights were hurriedly switched on as they reached the
bottom of the ladder and tumbled practically on top of each other in their dash
toward the adjoining tunnel.

They
halted.  The foremost flashlight beams revealed the way was blocked by two
figures in dark uniforms.  They wore helmets with visors hiding their
faces.  One visor bore an insignia of a flaming bird, the other a grinning
silver skull.

The figures
drew their weapons.

TEN
stories beneath the Governmental Complex island’s surface, a girl with short
tousled hair and multiple piercings in her ears, eyebrows and lips sat in a
dark cubicle.  She wrung her hands.  “Come on, Jill, where’re you
at?”

A voice buzzed
in her earphone:  “The gunmen are down,
Dizzie
. 
You can send in the team to collect them and bring them in.”

“Thanks,
Cor
,” she replied into her microphone.  She tapped a
message on one of her keyboards.  “They’re on their way.”

“Everything
okay?”

“Still haven’t
heard from Jill.”

“Seriously?”

“It looks like
she’s somewhere on the tenth floor—or at least her mobile is.  That’s all
I’ve got to go on.”

“What? 
What would she be doing there?  She parked her bike on the east plaza so
she could head straight there after we’d set up.”

“I’m aware of
that, Cor.  I’ll tell you the minute I hear something.”

“OKAY,
I confess.  I called in that order to
Belentzer
,
Inc.  Now can I go?”

Riley barely
seemed to hear her.  He was still shaking, still staring at his mobile,
though the video feed had just ended.  Perspiration beaded on his bald
head.

“Can I go?”
Jill repeated insistently.  “You might remember; I have somewhere to be.”

Riley
swallowed, then nodded.  “Guards, she’s free to leave.”

She paused in
the doorway.  “You’re welcome, by the way,” she told Riley.

“For what?” he
said, voice quivering.

“Saving the mayor’s
life.”

He looked up at
her.

“We know you
have a thing for her,” she added.

He opened his
mouth to—to what?  Deny it?  Admit it?  Minimize it?

It didn’t
matter.  Jill Branch was already halfway down the corridor.  “Sorry,
Diz
,” she said into her mobile as she ran, “I hit a little
snag.  I’m on my way now.”

“Finally!”
Dizzie
responded.  “What happened?”

“Tell you
later.  Did
Maybury
make a run for it?”

“Just like we
expected,”
Dizzie
confirmed.  “She ditched the
first tracker at the factory, but apparently she doesn’t know about the
second.  I’ll send the mark to your bike’s console.  You there yet?”

“Almost,” Jill
panted, flying down the stairs.

HER
forearm was still bleeding, but there wasn’t time to deal with that right
now.  She moved quickly through the side streets and alleys among the
unused industrial buildings east of the lake.  She had a destination in
mind, but she knew it wouldn’t be long before they were onto her.  Every
time she turned a corner, she half expected to see one of them standing there.

She turned
another corner.

Someone was
standing there.

Not who she
expected.  “Hello, Doreen,” the Chinese man with the ponytail greeted
her.  He wore a bulky jacket with flared sleeves.

She strove not
to look as startled as she felt.  “Hello, Chin.  Just the man I want
to see, actually.”

He smiled
grimly.  “Sure I am.  Trying to disappear, are we?  Maybe a one
way trip to the Home Planet as soon as you can arrange it?”

The Lioness
tried to look annoyed.  “I always planned on coming back, Chin.  I
just had to wait for the right time.”

“Like after
you’d partnered with The Nexus and sabotaged our entire scheme?”

“I had no
choice!  It was just a delay.  Get me back to the base.  I’ve
got a lot to tell the boss.”

“I’ll bet you
do,” said Chin.  “But the boss doesn’t want to talk to you, see? 
Just to deliver a simple message.”  He began reaching a hand toward her.

“No, Chin,
wait—!”

He just smiled.

She saw a flash
of vivid green in the depths of his loose coat sleeve.

COREY
Stone and Amber Phoenix climbed the ladder into the press room.  The last
of the frightened government personnel were being escorted out.  Other
than the stunned gunmen sprawled here and there the only person in the room was
the young Korean man dressed as a security officer.

Corey removed
his silver skull visor, revealing a handsome dark face with a perfectly trimmed
black goatee.  “Nice work, Bradley.”

The “security
officer” nodded tersely, unsmiling.  “You too.  Like clockwork.”

Amber took off
her helmet as well and shook out her long blonde hair.  “Except that
Jill’s disappeared.”

Bradley’s frown
deepened.  “What?”

“One of us has
to go after Doreen,” said Corey.

“Negative,”
Dizzie’s
voice crackled in his ear.  “Jill’s on the
way.”

“Great. 
Thanks,
Diz
.”  Corey relayed the message.

“What took so
long?” Bradley demanded.

JILL
burst out the doors into the morning sunlight.  In three long strides she
was across
GoCom’s
small eastern plaza and astride
her
skybike
.  She whipped on her riding helmet
and fired the ignition.  “In the air,
Diz
,” she
said into the helmet’s built-in mic.  The console between the handlebars
showed a map with Doreen
Maybury’s
position indicated
by a blinking light.

Her bike leaped
into the air and soared eastward.  The
GoCom
island shrank in her mirrors as she roared across the lake to the warehouse
district.  Beyond it the distant hemisphere of Earth gleamed beneath the
morning sun.

The shoreline
appeared and disappeared thirty feet below Jill’s feet.  She zoomed over
the patchwork of factory rooftops, zeroing in on Doreen’s location.

“Jill,”
Dizzie
reported, “she may have found the other tracker and
ditched it too.  It’s been stationary for a full minute now.”

“If so, she
won’t be far away,” said Jill.  “She’s…Uh-oh.”

“What’s up?”
Dizzie
asked in alarm.

“She didn’t get
rid of the second tracker,” Jill said, peering down at the crumpled form on the
sidewalk thirty feet below.

“Dead?”
Dizzie
asked fearfully.

Doreen’s
sprawled figure was motionless.  “From the look of it.  I should
confirm—”

“No, Jill, get
out of there!  The killer’s probably still there waiting for you.”

“But what if—?”

Gunshots echoed
from an alleyway below.

Jill got out of
there.

She didn’t
notice the flash of bright green slipping into a doorway off the alley.