Chapter Twenty-One

George sat behind his desk, staring at Donald. He was beginning to regret bringing him in. If it wasn’t for the other man’s ties with the Leaders, he’d get rid of him and do the job himself. Donald had told him about his encounter with the maid in exceedingly graphic detail, like he’d wanted to know.

“You’re having no better luck than I am,” Fenmore said quietly.

Harrington smoothed his pants. “You think I don’t know that? We should pick up the woman he’s been seen with lately. If that doesn’t bring him out in the open, nothing will.”

“Bring her here.” Fenmore leaned forward. “And this time, don’t get sidetracked.”

Harrington narrowed his eyes and nodded once. “When everything’s over, George, I’ll do as I please with her.”

****

The afternoon sun was covered by fluffy white clouds as Jack prowled the streets, his armor feeling like it weighed more than usual. He had paced the warehouse one too many times, stared at the phone, one too many times. He’d almost gotten himself under control when Rena showed up and started all those disturbing thoughts all over again. Taking to the streets seemed the best course of action.

He saw his informant shuffle by. Talking to someone, anyone, would help. He leaped off the building, landing behind the street man as he turned down the alley.

“Evening, Mexico.”

Mexico, jumped, then smiled, seeing who said his name. He straightened up and lost the heavy Spanish accent he used around everyone else. “Hey, Jack. What brings you this way tonight?”

Jack shrugged. “Not much. Didn’t feel like sitting home. Heard anything new?”

Mexico shook his head. “Not a peep. It’s not like ULTRA to suddenly clam up. Fenmore’s crowd is probably planning something big. Watch your back, boss. I don’t like the way things feel these days.”

“I know what you mean.” Jack looked around, almost feeling the city hold its breath, as if it knew something bad was coming. He handed a wad of bills to Mexico. “Here. How much longer are you going to be sponging off me?”

The Hispanic man grinned. “As long as you’re paying the bills, I see this going on for a long time.” As he took the money, the edge of tattoo peeked out from his jacket cuff on his wrist.

Jack grabbed his arm, pushing the sleeve up and smiled. “The old Gravedigger emblem. I’d almost forgotten what it looked like. You know, if anyone recognizes that, you’re a dead man.”

“Live on the edge or not at all,” Mexico said. “Isn’t that what we used to say?”

Jack nodded. “Yeah, but this edge is getting sharper all the time. Be careful.”

Mexico grabbed him in a tight hug. Stepping back, he gripped his friend’s shoulders. “You too, Jack.”

****

Misty and Rena walked back to Misty’s apartment. Rena glanced at her. “Will you be okay?”

Misty nodded. “I’ll be fine. Go back to the mansion.”

“Hey. I know he loves you. Hold on to that.”

Misty nodded again, unlocking her apartment as her friend headed toward the elevators. She wandered through her home, seeing him everywhere. He sat there, on her couch. He held her there, by the door. She couldn’t even look at the bedroom, remembering the passion they’d shared.

Misty went to the kitchen, taking out things to make something to eat, then putting them back. She walked back out to the living room and sank down on the couch, clutching a throw pillow to her chest. “Damn you, Jack McClennan. I love you.”

“That’s just what I wanted to hear.” Harrington stepped out of the darkness, flanked by two agents.

Misty shot to her feet. Why didn’t Rena sense them? “What do you want?”

Harrington folded his arms while he looked her over. “We’re taking you to ULTRA. Our ULTRA.”

Misty walked around the couch to be in a better position to defend herself. “I don’t think so. I know who you are and I know what you’ve done.” Misty engaged her power and stuck her intangible hand into the windpipe of the nearest agent and partially solidified, cutting off his air.

A laser passed through her and she turned, coming back to the solid plane and hitting the agent who fired with an open palm strike before he could re-calibrate his weapon. She was turning desolid again when Harrington’s voice stopped her.

“You wouldn’t think of leaving, would you?” He opened her front door, and an agent came in, carrying Rena’s unconscious form. “I would hate for anything to happen to your friend.”

Misty’s chest grew tight as icy fingers clamped around her heart. She couldn’t draw a decent breath to loosen the chill that gripped her. If they decided to kill Rena, she wouldn’t be able to stop them. She lifted her gaze to Harrington. “You win,” she growled. “But if you hurt her, you’ll regret it.”

Harrington smiled. “I knew you’d see it my way. Drop her and let’s go.”

The agent dumped Rena on the floor and, as they stepped over her, Misty tried to see if she was all right as she was shoved out the door and herded into a waiting van.

****

Misty was locked in a barren, white room. She paced the confines, stopping every few steps to glare at the door. In a weird way, she missed all the usual interrogation items. There should’ve been a two-way mirror, a metal table with spindly legs, and at least two uncomfortable chairs.

When Harrington said “our ULTRA” she had a feeling she wouldn’t be seeing the usual agents walking around. She definitely knew she wouldn’t come across Commander Frailer. She sighed. However, she wasn’t expecting to be dumped in a room and left alone for who knew how long.

She glanced at the door again. “What the heck are they waiting for?”

The door opened and a thin man with small round glasses and wearing an expensive suit walked in. He was the ULTRA psychologist that had been on the newscast and also the man from the restaurant when she and Rena had spoken to Amy. “Good evening, miss. I’m George Fenmore. Please tell me what you know about Jack McClennan.”

Misty stared at him. Fluorescent light was definitely not kind to him. It showed the pallor of his skin, the wrinkles on his face. “According to your interview on NewsLine, you used to work with him and were friends. Shouldn’t you know everything by now?”

He stepped closer to her. “Don’t try my patience. Just tell me where he is and you can go.”

Misty backed away from him, the strong smell of his over-used cologne making her want to gag. “I don’t know where he is right now. He always came for me. I don’t know where he lives.”

“That’s unfortunate.” Fenmore checked his watch. “I have another appointment. I’ll be back later to continue this discussion.”

“Don’t do me any favors,” she mumbled as he walked out.

Misty tried to trigger her desolidification, but couldn’t get her power to work. She examined the room and noticed small round devices set into the ceiling at each corner. As lights flashed when she tried to activate her powers, she knew exactly what they were. “Stupid power inhibitors,” she grumbled.

She sat down. One thing left to try. Hopefully, she could get a telepathic message out. She refused to consider that Rena wasn’t in a state to hear her down the link they shared. She crossed her fingers and, steadying her breathing, sent a message to her friend.

“Please hear me, Red,” she whispered.