Chapter 5

Damn Irritating

“Agent Elon Adesina.” Adesina drew out her vowels. She’d adopted an accent more than eight years before, when she’d gone undercover as a Fringe merc, and the drawl still colored her words.

A set of green lasers unfolded from above the screen, and the computer scanned her face. Adesina huffed. Damn computer. Anyone else would’ve recognized me on the spot.

Her distinctive features prevented her from going undercover for ISARK again. She could have chopped off her long, black dreadlocks or even done something stupidly extreme, like bleach her dark skin, but who else had such powerful cheekbones and sharp eyes? Although she was willing to do a lot for a mission, messing with the face the Absolute had given her was not an option.

The computer demanded a handprint. Adesina harrumphed and pressed her palm against the screen. Rourke, you paranoid piece of shit. Back in my day, an eye scan and passcode were all you needed. And now you’re making me feel old. Fuck you.

“Please open your mouth,” said the computer’s automated voice. “A DNA sample will be taken from your saliva.”

For fuck’s sake!

A small door by the computer opened, and a robotic arm holding a swab reached out. It swiped Adesina’s tongue, then disappeared into the wall. Adesina closed her mouth, resisting the sudden urge to blow a raspberry at the ridiculous protocol. As a kid, her full lips and robust lungs had let her blow some amazing ones. C’mon, Adesina. You’re forty-two damn years old and a respected ISARK agent. You’re supposed to be dignified.

“Access Granted” flashed across the screen, and the metal door slid open. Thank the Absolute. One more and I would’ve blasted my way in.

Adesina strode through, and a cavernous office floor greeted her. Fast-typing analysts sat behind large screens that surrounded them in semicircles. The air hummed with their frenetic activity. A group of stern-faced operatives moved briskly along one of the three levels of walkways crisscrossing the air above her. Adesina examined their faces but didn’t see her guy among them. Or rather, the operative who used to be her guy.

Can’t believe I went through all that fuss only to have Rourke steal him from my operation. Damn, I should never have called Devin back in.

She marched down the path between analysts’ desks toward the corridor on the other side. The last time she’d visited ISARK’s facility at Sector 1708 on Kydera’s outermost planet, Ibara, had been more than a decade ago, when she’d been one of those fast-typing analysts. Officially, Sector 1708 didn’t exist. Adesina found it kind of perverse that killer drones were developed on a planet best known as a sanctuary for orphans.

As she made her way toward Rourke’s office, she hoped the bastard hadn’t decided to take the day off. She could have made an appointment to ensure that he would be around, but by dropping in unannounced, she eliminated the risk of him trying to avoid her. Also, by confronting him up close and personal, she could let him know just how pissed off she was. In a world of distractions and long-distance communications, face-to-face was the only way to really get someone’s attention.

In her twenty years at ISARK, Adesina had never heard of an operative getting plucked from the middle of a mission because The Powers That Be felt like it. Rourke may have been the director of Sector 1708, only one level below Chief Director Dane, but that didn’t give him the right to fuck with her mission.

Not to mention, Sector Seventeen-Oh-Eight is for tech development. What would they do with a Fringe operative? Adesina let her frustrations bubble up. Sometimes, one controlled one’s temper, and sometimes, one let it loose. This is one of those times when you let it loose. It wasn’t some small-time ecoterrorist Rourke messed with. It’s the fucking Klistosian Revolution!

Until four months ago, Klistosi had been one of those corrupt Fringe systems the Interstellar Confederation put up with because they kept their problems to themselves. Then an uppity young colonel, Zeger Vang, had taken it upon himself to change the world. The rest of the IC hadn’t seemed to care that he overthrew the ruling Baakri family and installed himself as dictator, but the Kyderans hadn’t been happy. The Baakris had been instrumental in maintaining order in the region, and they’d been content with their corner of the galaxy.

Vang—not so much. Adesina, who’d been monitoring Klistosi for years, had placed half a dozen operatives on the planet—imbedded in their army and blended in with their population. According to them, the little despot’s endgame was to create a Fringe alliance to rival the IC’s power. That was the last thing she’d learned from them before they all either turned up dead or vanished entirely.

Adesina slammed the wall as she entered a corridor. Those operatives had been her teammates, her friends, her responsibility. When she’d caught wind that they were in danger, she’d done her best to have them extracted, but it had been too late. When I find the fuckers who blew their covers, I’ll kill them myself.

She wound through the corridors. Sector 1708 was one huge-ass labyrinth, probably designed to confuse people. Any unwanted parties would have a hard time finding their way around the mess of hallways, elevator banks, and annexes.

She continued fuming. The madder she got, the better. This is my one chance to give Rourke a piece of my mind, and I sure as hell won’t waste it being nice.

Losing her operatives on Klistosi had put her back at Square Zero, with no eyes on a planet so opaque the only news that came out of it was the propaganda. She’d had only one way in. Between maintaining order on their own planet and invading their neighbors, the Klistosians were low on hired guns. They’d put out a call for independent contractors to do their dirty work. ISARK had several operatives posing as mercs, but they were all either too green to have established their covers or too deeply engaged in other missions. Adesina hadn’t been willing to endanger newbies or poach from her peers. Unlike Rourke, I don’t pull that shit.

So she’d played the one card she had left: Devin Colt, her informant from her mission to take down the Voh Nyay warlords eight years ago. He’d gotten himself mixed up with their gang and ended up killing Black Knight, the notorious merc who’d been hunting him for sport. Instead of running home like any other kid would have, he’d gotten it in his head that taking over Black Knight’s identity and informing on the Voh Nyays was the thing to do. Good thing too, or we never would’ve caught the bastards.

Black Knight was just the kind of guy Vang had been looking for: a cold-blooded sonuvabitch with a long, proven track record. And Devin was just the kind of guy Adesina had been looking for: a straight shooter with a brain who wasn’t afraid of anything.

She’d shown up at his apartment one evening about two months before and waited for him to return from his office job. He burst into his apartment with a stunner in his hand, apparently having figured out that someone had broken in.

Good, she thought. Still alert.

He lowered his stunner. “Agent Adesina. What are you doing here?”

Instead of answering, Adesina pulled a sleek, black laser gun out of her bag. “Recognize this?”

Devin glanced at it. “Of course I do.”

Adesina angled the gun under the light. Perhaps it had been harsh of her to obtain the weapon the Pandora program had used to frame Devin, but she’d needed something to remind him of his past with ISARK. “Remember what I said when I gave it to you? Right after the whole Voh Nyay thing had ended, and you were about to go back to school?”

“You told me I should apply for ISARK after I graduated.” Devin’s expression betrayed no emotion.

“Damn straight.” Time to layer on the praise. “You were a helluva kid, Devin. You didn’t have a clue what you were doing, but you somehow managed to accomplish through sheer determination what months of prep work couldn’t do for me. I was gonna make you my protégé. So why’d you leave me high and dry?”

“I think you know the answer.”

“Ah, yes.” Adesina curled her mouth into a sneer. “Daddy dearest wouldn’t allow it.”

Devin shot her an irritated look. “My mother was killed because of what I did. Why are you here?”

Adesina summarized her predicament.

Devin gave her a humorless smile. “You want me to go back undercover? I’m flattered, but I don’t think I’m exactly qualified. Black Knight always wore a helmet. Why can’t ISARK give his identity to someone else?”

“Because you screwed up.” Adesina leaned back coolly. “Remember how you went to Travan Float to rescue that little demon friend of yours after I specifically told you not to? You lost your blessed helmet, and that handsome mug of yours is the one the Fringe associates with Black Knight now. Word is that Black Knight’s biding his time until he feels like working again, and I’m thinking he just spotted a juicy job offer on Klistosi. What do you say?”

“Hell no.” Devin had been firm.

“C’mon, Devin.” Adesina had spread her arms with a grin. “You know I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t desperate.”

Adesina stopped before one of Sector 1708’s elevator banks. The memory, instead of fueling her wrath, had snuffed it. What remained were the embers of guilt. Damn. This is what I get for mulling.

The loss of her previous operatives had made the mission personal for her, and her temper had risen quickly.

“Look,” she’d said to Devin. “Once we take down Vang, you can go back to your cozy little office job.”

“Is that what you think this is about?” Devin’s expression darkened. “Trouble has a way of following me home, and I’m not risking Jane’s life for anything.”

Adesina had dropped her friendly demeanor. “Once with ISARK, always with ISARK. You can either come with me nicely, or I can make life difficult for you and that dear sister of yours. You know how long ISARK’s reach is.”

Devin had returned her glare. “You’re not taking no for an answer, are you?”

Adesina grimaced at the recollection. Not my finest moment.

Devin had been undercover for all of two weeks when Rourke had pulled him from the field.

So here I am again, back at Square Fucking Zero. Adesina had spent the past three weeks appealing to the higher-ups, trying to do things the diplomatic way. No longer.

The elevator doors opened on the building’s top floor. A pair of holographic hazel eyes met her gaze as she stepped into the main hall, which was empty but for a long bench against the wall. Adesina briefly forgot what she was doing as she looked into the face of her fallen colleague, Peter Heisman, who stood memorialized in light next to a plaque bearing his name.

You were a good man, Heisman. Adesina sighed. Though she’d heard of Heisman’s suicide more than a month ago, the sight of his face filled her with grief. What happened to you? You had it all—family, career, respect… Why would you leave us?

All she knew was that Heisman had behaved strangely in the months leading up to his death. The few times she’d run into him, his expression had either been tense with anxiety or dark with rage. She could only guess that the sudden deaths of his sister and his wife, which had occurred within months of each other, had taken their toll, and his legendary bullheadedness had prevented him from seeking help.

Rest in peace, my friend. I miss you. Adesina bowed her head in respect. That Heisman’s portrait still shone so long after his death—and that his name hung on a wall usually reserved for those killed in action—was a testament to his reputation.

A few minutes later, Adesina refocused her mind on the present and continued on her way. She left the hall through an arched doorway and turned left. Instead of the long corridor leading to Rourke’s office, she found herself faced with a shiny new pair of doors and a screen telling her to state her name.

Fucking hell!

Her previous irritation surged back. The new protocol was even more ridiculous than the previous one. It demanded that she recite personal details and undergo a full body scan. By the time the doors opened, the full force of her temper had returned.

As she marched toward Rourke’s office, she caught a glimpse of a lab through the square window of a door. The wrecked AI that had once been known as Jonathan King lay in pieces on a table with masked scientists hovering over him—it. Chief Director Dane hadn’t said much during the briefing for top agents such as herself other than that Jonathan King wasn’t the only lifelike android hiding among the human population. As far as she could tell, no one knew who had made them.

Where did that thing come from? Never mind—that’s not what I’m here for.

Adesina brought her focus back to her own situation. She approached Rourke’s door and requested—no, demanded—entry.

No response.

Adesina peered through the door’s small window. Rourke stood before a screen at the back of his office. A number of agents sat in chairs facing him. She demanded entry again. I don’t care if you’re busy. Open the damn door!

The door slid open. Good. Would hate to have had to shoot it down.

At almost six feet tall, Adesina was by no means a small woman, but Rourke made her look downright petite. His steel gray eyes, staring from a powerful, square-jawed face, radiated displeasure. With his stiff posture, gray suit, and rather metallic-looking hair, he reminded Adesina of a security bot. “Yes, Agent Adesina?”

Adesina strode up to him. Let’s get to the point. “I want Devin Colt back on my team. You had—”

“I’m in the middle of something.” Rourke held up a hand. “You’re welcome to wait until I’m finished, and then we can discuss your issues.”

Adesina crossed her arms. “What’s the matter? Don’t like people fucking with your plans?” She realized what the screen behind him displayed and twisted her face in consternation. “The hell?”

A map of Kydera City stretched across the screen. Red Xs dotted the streets and clustered around the buildings. The hologram of a box-like device labeled “JES 12.5 (magnified 100x)” shone beside the map.

Adesina recognized the device as a new-fangled scanner Sector 1708 had been working on. She’d been among those who had booed it for being invasive. The scanner could read every detail of a person in a blink of an eye and was small enough to hide in pretty much any corner.

She pointed at the screen. “Rourke, have you lost your mind? President Thean would never allow ISARK to install those contraptions on the streets. What do you need so many for anyway?”

“The AI threat must be stopped.” Rourke glowered, pushing his thick eyebrows together. “Our president was nearly assassinated because we were unprepared. Installing these scanners is the only way to weed out the artificial beings that would otherwise be indistinguishable from the population. Already, we have become aware of three.” His thin-lipped mouth twisted into something of a smile. “One of them is Zeger Vang.”

Adesina scowled. “Are you mocking me?”

Rourke gave her a disdainful look. “Agent Adesina, I am a very busy man. I have no interest in playing games.”

Vang’s a fucking AI? Adesina wiped her face of expression. She didn’t want to show her shock in front of the other agents. And as much as she despised him presently, Rourke was good at his job. He had no reason to lie about Vang.

But if Devin made the discovery while undercover, he would’ve reported it to me. She eyed Rourke suspiciously. “How did you find out? Devin Colt’s were the only eyes we had in the Niran system, and you yanked him.”

Rourke’s gaze shifted. He stuck out his left thumb, brought it to his teeth, and bit down on his nail. The gesture struck Adesina as rather unlike the uptight director she knew. When’d he pick up that habit? Odd.

Rourke pulled his thumb away from his teeth and resumed his stern countenance. “That’s above your security clearance.”

“Excuse me?” Adesina lifted her chin. “I have the highest clearance, and Vang is my business.”

“Not anymore. Since he is an AI, he falls under Sector Seventeen-Oh-Eight’s domain. You have been reassigned.”

Since when? Adesina’s rage threatened to unleash a violent string of curses. Now’s one of those times to control your temper. She said as calmly as she could, “Why was I not informed earlier?”

“I have no need to explain myself to you.” Rourke’s tone was cold. “Now, like I said, I’m in the middle of something. You may either wait until I finish or return at another time.”

I’ll be damned if I’ll stand here and listen to you blather. “I guess I’ll talk to you later.” She turned to leave.

“Agent Adesina.”

She stopped and faced Rourke. “What?”

Rourke looked down at her. “Chief Director Dane will not be pleased when he hears of your outburst. I believe you need some time to cool off, and I’m going to recommend that you not be given any new assignments for the time being.”

“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

“Take a vacation.” Rourke’s lips curved into a subtle sneer.

Adesina stormed out the door. It closed behind her.

Rourke, you bastard! After taking a few moments to let her temper fade, she considered the facts. Much as she hated to admit it, he was right. Anything having to do with tech belonged to Sector 1708. And Vang’s a fucking robot.

Someone approached from a corridor perpendicular to hers. Adesina didn’t want to appear to be loitering, so she walked toward the elevator.

She stopped when she saw who that someone was. “Well, look who it is.”

Devin passed her without a second glance.

Irritated at being brushed off, Adesina said, “Hey! I’m talking to you!”

He stopped and faced her. “What do you want?”

“First of all, how’re you liking your new job?” Noticing the distress in his eyes, she dropped her smirk. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing.”

You’re not fooling anyone. “C’mon, Devin. We’re old friends.”

“Friends?” Devin gave her a wry smile. “Right.” He glanced around, then took a step toward her. “Remember what I said about trouble following me home?”

Before he could continue, the door to Rourke’s office opened, and the agents filed out.

“Colt!” Rourke stood in the doorway. He twitched his fingers in a beckoning motion.

Devin looked at Adesina as if he had something to say, then walked briskly into Rourke’s office. The door closed behind him.

What’s going on with him?

Adesina had always been dead accurate at reading people. It wasn’t hard to tell that Devin was in some kind of trouble.

Through the window of Rourke’s office, she caught a glimpse of Devin talking to Rourke. He didn’t move much, but his eyes spoke to the intensity of his tone. He stopped as though cut off, then backed away. Rourke came into view—a menacing authority who evidently didn’t like what Devin had been saying.

Adesina narrowed her eyes, trying to awaken her old lip-reading skills.

“What do you mean, ‘disappeared’?” Rourke appeared to say. “You’d better hope you find him before someone else does, or there’ll be hell to pay!” He shifted his position, blocking the window with his back.

What’s Rourke gotten Devin into? Adesina frowned. What’ve I gotten him into?

Guilt burned her conscience. If it hadn’t been for Devin, she probably wouldn’t have survived the Voh Nyay mission, let alone completed it. And what had she done when she’d found out he was slated for execution six months back? Sat around wondering what happened to him.

Then she’d forced him to rejoin ISARK, a move that had put him in whatever bind he was in. Fuck, I owe that kid.

She wouldn’t stand aside and let shit happen again. Devin was still her teammate, her friend, her responsibility.

She didn’t want to be around when Devin and Rourke finished their conversation, so she strode to the elevator.

“Take a vacation,” Rourke said. She snickered. All right, then. I’ll take a damn vacation. What are vacations for, if not doing what you like doing?

There was nothing Adesina liked more than getting answers.