Chapter Thirteen

Fenmore sat at his private table in his favorite Greek restaurant. His stomach growled as he smelled yet another dinner, and his mouth watered from the spicy aroma wafting toward him. He’d already been there for thirty minutes, and still no Donald. He frowned. Donald Harrington hadn’t been on time in all the years they’d worked together.

A hand clapped him on the shoulder as Harrington sat down. “Sorry I’m late George. I got delayed.”

I wonder who she was this time. George supposed women would find him attractive. The sandy-haired man was several years younger than him, with bright blue eyes and sharp features. He mentally shrugged. None of that was really his business. “No matter. You’re here now.”

Harrington picked up the menu. “What’s the problem? You said it was urgent.”

Fenmore folded his hands on the table. “I’m having trouble getting my hands on Scavenger. The Council is getting impatient for results.” He reached for the delicate goblet in front of him, the white wine sparkling in the low light. “Even the ULTRA commander is getting antsy with waiting.”

Harrington laid the menu off to the side. “The Leaders said you had Scavenger and lost him. Any luck finding out who took him?”

“No.” Fenmore scowled. “Those fools under my command can’t do one thing right, and I don’t have time to hold their hands on every operation. I’ve incorporated a telepathic tracker from HelixCorp. She’s with ULTRA right now for training. The girl is young but has demonstrated an incredible amount of power. We think she uses empathy when she mind scans.”

Harrington drummed his fingers on the table. “Has she tracked him, yet?”

“Yes,” Fenmore said. “She led us to an apartment complex a couple of weeks ago. One of our agents said he stopped a young woman leaving the area, and he let her go without a vehicle search or even getting her name.”

Fenmore shook his head. That agent had been dealt with severely. “This is the kind of incompetence I’ve been dealing with.” He paused, getting himself under control. “The telepath, Mindspell, scanned the apartment and found psychic residue indicating the woman had been there with him.”

Harrington rubbed his chin. “It would appear Jack has an accomplice.”

Fenmore tossed back the rest of his wine. “And I need help with Mindspell. I know she hasn’t had any field experience, but she always seems to just miss him.”

“I see. So he might have two accomplices then.” Harrington smiled unpleasantly. “I’ll take care of your telepath. At least she’s where we can keep an eye on her.”

Fenmore knew all about how Donald took care of his agents. “Don’t mark her. That idiot in charge of ULTRA doesn’t know I’ve taken her into the field.”

Harrington nodded. “Don’t worry, George. She’ll be fine.”

****

Jack grimaced as a whistle screamed through his already pounding skull. He was in his bed with a glass of water and a bottle of aspirin on the nightstand beside him. Shaking four tablets into his hand, he drained the whole thing. The whistling stopped, and he tensed as footsteps approached.

“You look like hell,” Frank said, placing a mug in his hands.

“Nice to see you too.” He scowled. “Just because I’m from England doesn’t mean I like tea.”

Frank grinned. “Stop with the face, already. There’s some of your best whiskey in it. It’ll help you relax.”

Jack eyed the cup and took a small swallow. He sighed, drinking more as tension left his muscles.

Frank dragged a chair over to the bedside. “You going to clue me in on where you’ve been the past two weeks?”

Jack stared at the cup in his hands. “Fenmore caught me. Remember those prototype rifles? They’re not prototypes anymore and his troops are armed with them. They’ve got augmented armor, too.”

Frank sat back. “You’re kidding, right?”

“I wish I was,” Jack said, shaking his head. “He hit me with a cybernetic scrambler. I was out before I hit the ground.” He looked up at his friend. “I don’t know how he did it, but Cyber-X freed me. I’ve been with him. He took that thing off me and helped me get back on my feet enough to get home.”

Frank rubbed his chin. “Why would the mercenary who’s hunting you want to rescue you?”

Jack could only shrug. That was a question he’d like the answer to, also.

“Close one that time.” Frank laid his hand on Jack’s shoulder. “Get some rest. I’ll be here.”

****

Frank sat back in the chair by the bed and watched Jack slide down to settle himself in a more comfortable sleeping position, his eyes drifting closed as he nodded off.

Shadows grew long and darkness settled into the far corners of the warehouse as the sun slid behind tall buildings in the neighborhood. Frank turned on the bathroom light and closed the door until just a sliver spilled into the bedroom. He wandered to the living room, turning on the table lamps as he headed for the kitchen.

He fished his cell phone out of his pants pocket. Flipping it open, he hit the speed dial for Amy. She’d been beside herself with worry. How could things go to hell so quickly for them? He shook his head. It had all started with that damn NewsLine broadcast. He gave her a quick update, speaking in hushed tones so he wouldn’t wake Jack. He flipped the phone shut and stared at Jack’s desk and the CD laying on top.

Frank viewed the CD Amy had burned at ULTRA and knew Jack’s suspicions had been right about Rena. But his friend had bigger problems than one lone telepathic tracker. Could he pretend ignorance about Rena and Misty until the truth came out?

Frank had caught sight of the heroes at one point and followed them, hoping they’d lead him to Jack. He’d tailed them to ULTRA, then to Challengers HQ. Why would they want to hear what that back-stabber, Captain Starblast, had to say? But they’d never led him to the man he’d been searching for.

Frank had wanted to eliminate the two of them, to protect his friend and the rest of the team. He’d pushed his combat instincts aside, forcing himself to observe only. It wouldn’t look good to have such a young and beautiful woman cut down and his friend would’ve been upset if Misty were harmed on his behalf. The grizzled agent thought about the computer disc. Then again, he might agree when he saw the data it contained.

Frank stared at the cabinets before opening them. He made a sandwich, thinking over the past two decades. The young Brit was brash and headstrong and Frank had taken to looking after him in his first year in ULTRA. Frank had been a veteran of paranormal skirmishes and showed the rookie the ropes. It wasn’t too long after that Jack became his field commander.

Then Jack had been arrested, jailed, beaten, and finally escaping to live on the run for the past ten years. The renegade agent had gathered the team around him and supported them when they’d gone into hiding. Frank watched him organize, equip, and build a network that ran through the whole city.

“Fifteen years older than he is, and I’m like a naive schoolboy,” Frank mumbled. “How can a man be so old and so young at the same time?”

****

“I need a vacation,” Amy mumbled. Her hands had taken on a life of their own, constantly shaking. “I’m sick to death of heroes, villains, and this damn subterfuge.” She slammed her purse into her desk drawer. “I need a vacation.”

When Captain Starblast sat in her office, she’d almost come clean, telling him everything they’d been through, after initially wanting to shoot him. Her supervisor had questioned her about the recent influx of people asking for her. If the clean ULTRA was getting suspicious, the corrupt circle wouldn’t be far behind.

“Amy, there’re some people here to see you,” the desk agent called.

“Not again,” she whispered. Sweat rolled down her back and, standing on shaky legs, she went to see who was at the front counter. She stopped, seeing Misty and Rena from the Angels team standing there.

“Can I help you?” she asked, surprised her voice didn’t waver. Great! More heroes.

Misty smiled. “We’re working on a few cases and this agent said you were the one to see because of how much you know about the files in here.”

Amy held onto the door frame. She took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. For a minute, she thought they were here to talk about Jack. “Come into my office, and I’ll see if I can help you.

Amy shut the door and gestured to the chairs in front of her desk. “Won’t you please sit down?”

Amy watched as Misty looked around her office. She was used to the reaction. The small room was painted an ugly green, and it felt smaller than it was because of the filing cabinets lining the walls and her desk. There were closets bigger than this place.

When the Angels settled themselves, Misty leaned forward. “I need to ask you about someone you may or may not know.”

Amy had almost relaxed, but Misty’s statement started her nerves jangling all over again. Her hands trembled, and she folded them on top of her desk, determined not to let them rattle her. “Who?”

“His name is Taylor Tremain,” Misty said. “He has a scar down the left side of his face, wears an eye-patch, and has long red hair. When I was with him several weeks ago, I heard him talking about ULTRA to someone named Amy. Do you know him?”

“Has he done something illegal? Unless there’s a file on him, I don’t think I can help you.”

Misty shook her head. “No. It’s a personal matter. Nothing you say goes beyond the two of us.”

Amy studied them. Any decision she made could be wrong and the end of everything they worked for, including their lives. The look on Misty’s face made up her mind.

“I believe you,” she said. “But I’m not sure I trust you yet, and I don’t want to get into it here.” She wrote on a small piece of paper and pushed it across the desk. “Meet me here at eight tonight. There are a lot of lives at stake, not just his. I’ll tell you what I can, but no more.”

“Good enough,” Misty said. “We’ll see you then.” The Angels stood and walked to the door.

Amy stared at the door after they left. Frank wasn’t going to like this, and when he told Jack, the sparks were going to fly. What the hell was I thinking?

She sat silently, feeling tears run down her face. “Let me have made the right call,” she whispered.

****

Misty and Rena stood outside the small brick restaurant at seven forty five that evening. Summer had finally arrived in full force and they could feel the heat rolling off the building. Huge pots overflowed with colorful petunias and neon signs blinked from the windows. The door stood open, music and laughter drifting to them.

Rena glanced at Misty. “Is this it?”

“This is it,” Misty said. “It’s not exactly what I was expecting.”

Rena turned to her. “After this meeting, things are going to change, aren’t they?”

Misty worried when she heard none of Rena’s usual humor. “Yeah and I have no idea what’s going to happen. Thanks for being here with me.”

“What are friends for?” Rena said, flashing a grin.