“
I did,” Kit said defensively. “It said you were self-employed. Nothing about how.”
Unable to help himself, Ray laughed hard. After a few seconds he wiped tears from his eyes. “Oh, I'm sorry, but that's great. That sneaky old man.”
“I don't get it,” Kit said.
Ray got himself under control. “Have you ever heard of Gregory Wright?”
Confused, Kit nodded. “Sure. He's that painter, the one who puts out all the pleasant little country scenes. The home shopping channels eat that guy up. Did you work for him?”
Ray chuckled again. “No, I
am
him. Or rather, I'm the guy who painted all the stuff he sells. I get a nice chunk of every unit.”
“
No way,” Kit said. “He's been putting out five or six new pieces a year.” Ray raised an eyebrow at her. “My mom buys them,” Kit said quickly.
“
Yeah, well, I painted more than a hundred of those things before my...accident,” Ray explained. “The deal is still in place, and Greg keeps on passing them off as his. It's good for everyone.”
Kit did some mental math. “Damn. That guy does pretty well, so you must have—”
“About three million dollars in the bank,” Ray said. “I guess they took off in the last few years. Before it was only a few hundred bucks, maybe a grand in a good month.”
Kit motioned for the worker to come forward. The man, who had been waiting patiently, greeted them and asked how he could help.
Jerking a thumb at Ray, Kit grinned. “Mr. Cassidy here is going to buy me something pretty.”
They left the shop half an hour later. Kit carried the bags. Ray offered, but given his resemblance to a victim of a debilitating illness, Kit decided any heavy lifting should be left to her.
“
You know what the weird thing is?” she asked as they slowly made their way back to the car. “Despite everything else, I'm having fun. I can't remember the last time that happened.”
“
Seems kind of wrong somehow, doesn't it?” he replied. “Like laughing at a funeral.”
Kit shrugged. “I don't know. A few weeks ago, I would have said yes. I ran off to join Helix right after I found out what I was. I've been there ever since. With Robinson giving me this job, and Archer doing his damnedest to force me into a social life, I haven't had much choice. It's weird. When we decided to come out here today, it was to draw Thomas Maggard out. That was my reason. Now that we're here, it's nice.”
“Good,” Ray said. “Nothing wrong with finding the bright spots. Hell, sometimes they're the only thing that gets you through it.”
“
I guess,” Kit said. “I've just been keeping to myself for so long that—what is it?”
Ten feet from the car, Ray had spun around. His posture changed in an instant, from the perpetual boneless slump he normally wore like a suit, to tense, ready to fight. His eyes darted across the skyline.
“He's there,” Ray said.
Kit dropped the bags and pulled her pulse gun from her pocket. “Where?”
Ray continued to scan the rooftops. “Only saw him for a second. I can still feel him out there, though. He's on top of one of these buildings.”
“
I'm going to call for backup,” she said. “Yell if he starts moving.”
Ray nodded without taking his eyes from the skyline. Kit pulled out her phone, but before she could dial the facility, Ray swore.
“He's gone. Flew off.”
Kit popped the trunk and threw the bags in, then fished her phone back out. She dialed Archer.
“We had contact,” she said without introduction.
It was Robinson who replied. “Do we need to send units?”
Expecting him to still be in Washington, she was thrown off. “No, sir. He rabbited. My fault, I pulled my weapon.”
The old man must have had Archer put the phone on speaker, because Archer cut in. “I doubt you scared him off. He attacked an armed convoy yesterday. Ask Ray if he saw which direction he went.”
She relayed the question. “Ray says he flew almost straight up.”
There was a pause from the other end of the line, then:
“Listen carefully, Kitra,” Robinson said. “You are going to get in the car and return to the facility. You will do so slowly. You will take the most direct route, and unless you're attacked you won't stop for any reason. This may be our only chance.”
“
Sir?” Kit said. Funny how a single word can convey a host of questions.
Robinson took a breath. “I came back this morning because my superiors were given a report by certain analysts we use for situations like this.”
Her blood went cold. Kit had heard Robinson say similar things before, usually in regards to an operation more dangerous than normal. It made sense to have something like the NSA but dedicated to the Next, though she doubted it was like the OSA. Whatever agency Robinson's bosses relied on for intelligence and assessment, it was almost certainly staffed by Normals.
“
It is the opinion of the chief analyst that Thomas Maggard will attack the largest concentration of Next he can find. They believe the facility is the overwhelming favorite,” Robinson said. “For this reason, my superiors have instructed me to draw the boy here.”
“
Sir, that's a terrible idea,” Kit protested before she had a chance to think about what she was saying. “If it's down to pure numbers, Thomas will only have a few Next in the city to go after. If we draw him to the prison, he's going to have thousands of potential victims, Next and human alike.”
“
I know, Kit,” Robinson said in a tired voice. The stiff diction and iron notes of command melted away in those words. “It's not my preference. Were it up to me, I would continue using you and Mr. Cassidy as bait, then draw the boy into a trap. I said as much in my meeting. I was overruled.”
Kit clenched her jaw. “Sir, please, we can't—”
“This is an order,” Robinson said. “Come back and draw him here. We will have a convenient gathering of Next agents outside when you arrive so the boy knows what he is seeing. It's doubtful he can detect the people here through dozens of feet of concrete and steel. As soon as you arrive, the facility goes into emergency lock-down. Rowan is having measures put in place as we speak.”
“
And where will you be, sir?” Kit spat.
The steel returned to his voice. “Where I am ordered, Director Singh. In Washington, safely tucked away.”
From ground zero
, Kit thought.
Ray reacted badly to the change of plans.
“I can't believe the balls on that guy,” he fumed. “The caravan was one thing. There were a couple agents for each person being moved. And using us as bait we at least volunteered for. But this? Jesus, Robinson has ice water for blood.”
“
I told you, he's following orders,” Kit said. It was a lame defense and she knew it.
“
Lot of that throughout history,” Ray snapped. “It's not right, and you know it.”
Kit agreed, but she couldn't go against Robinson even if she wanted to. Better to be in a position to manage the entire thing rather than get fired or arrested and leave it to Archer alone. “There's nothing we can do to stop it, Ray. So either help me or shut up so I can think.”
The car rolled along for a minute. “What do you want me to do?”
“
Do your thing,” she said. “Go out there and look for him, make sure he's following us. At least we can know if it's working.”
They were halfway between the city and the facility. If the kid was following them, it was a safe bet he would keep doing so. If he wasn't, then chances were good he had never been to start with.
Ray grimaced but did as he was asked. He slumped back in his chair, eyes closing. Despite the seriousness of the situation, Kit couldn't help chuckling at the sight. It was like watching a bad high-school play where a character pretends to faint.
Ten seconds later, he startled awake. “Oh, yeah. He's definitely following us.”
She guided the car steadily. Even without her orders, Kit had no desire to spook Thomas. If the boy attacked now, she would die quickly and messily. Ray might survive the car being crushed like a beer can at a frat party, given his powers, but that would be little comfort to her corpse.
Kit handed her phone to Ray. “Send Archer a text. Tell him to have everyone start moving inside as soon as they see the car. If Robinson wants Thomas to see a bunch of Next out in the open, fine, but we're only giving him a glimpse. No one dies today.”
Ray fiddled with the phone for a few seconds, trying to figure out the touch screen. With a few hints from Kit, he managed to send the message.
The last ten minutes driving back were some of the most nerve-wracking of her life. By the time the facility came into view, Kit's knuckles ached against the steering wheel. A steady stream of updates came in through her headset, the phone line left open.
There were several Black Bands waiting at the front of the building as they approached. The employee entrance was at the back, but even from the road she could see the agents already moving inside. If they were smart they would get below ground.
All four Black Bands fell into an escort around the car as Kit drove past the entrance. It was dangerous as hell, considering what the kid had done to one of their number.
“Brave,” she muttered.
“
I missed that,” Archer said over the phone.
“
Nothing,” Kit replied. “Is he on the move?”
She heard him ask someone the same question. “No,” he finally replied. “Ben is remote viewing him right now. Thomas is sitting still about five hundred feet up, watching.”
Kit parked the car and hustled out, Ray close behind her. He slapped the trunk as she was about to walk away, and she suppressed a smile as she popped it with the key fob. “How are the preparations?” she asked Archer.
“
The main entrance and office are wired and ready. Nunez has people working on more defenses below and at the hidden entrance down the road, but the kid won't hit us there. No way he knows it exists.”
Kit and Ray followed a soldier through the rear door of the office, letting it slam shut behind them. Archer was waiting just inside. As she had hoped, the office was clear, the agents and other staff moved through the emergency passage and into safety below.
“Let's get downstairs,” Kit said as she passed him. The big man offered no argument.
“
He's still up there, just watching,” Ben said.
Nunez spoke up. “We've run out of materials to make pulse generators.”
“There are people complaining about having to sleep in cells, but we've got nowhere else to put them,” Deakins added.
Kit rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Ben, switch off with Ray on four hour rotations. I want one of you watching remotely at all times. I want to know the second he comes for us or leaves, or moves more than ten feet. Deakins, go—no, send someone to explain to the families and the rest of them that we don't have any choice in the matter. Have one of the soldiers do it, and make sure they know they're still free to move around.”
A thought occurred to her. “Doc, what were you using to make those things? I thought the whole pulse technology was still being developed?”
“
Not precisely,” Nunez said. “The technology is widely used in the facility, and has been for years. It was making it portable and, in the case of the pistols, directional, that was the issue. The traps my people have been constructing use the spare parts we have stockpiled for when the cells are damaged.”
She turned to Deakins. “How many cells are currently occupied by our guests?”
“Four hundred and six,” Deakins said without hesitation. “Leaving one thousand, five hundred and ninety four occupied by prisoners.”
Kit clapped her hands together. “There you go, Doc. Start stripping what you need from the cells being used by our guests. Try to leave the ones holding prisoners alone.”
The older man was impressed. “I didn't think about that.”
“
Sometimes us non-genius folks have good ideas, too,” Kit said.
Nunez blushed. “That was not what I meant.”
“I know,” Kit said. “Get to it. Pull anyone you need. I'm sure it's going to take a lot of manpower.”
“
Actually, the system was designed for simple replacement...”
Kit put up a hand to stop him. “Tell me about it later. After we're not dead and the kid is in custody.” She looked around as the meeting dispersed. “Where is Archer? He was supposed to relieve me half an hour ago.”
Deakins, who lingered at the door on a phone call, covered the phone with her free hand. “He had to deal with some problem in engineering.”
Kit snorted. “Engineering. Like we live on the Starship Enterprise or something.”
Though irritated at having to run the meeting, and not a little unnerved at the fact Thomas Maggard had not moved an inch in the five hours since his arrival, Kit knew Archer must have had his reasons. The facility was closer in complexity to some vast interstellar craft than any earthly building. It had to be, in order to do the job. More than a hundred people worked solely on the various integrated systems of the place, managing water, power, and maintaining the various systems operating at all times.
Still, she wanted a shower and a nap. Possibly food, as lunch was hours behind her, and the needs of her enhanced body involved enough calories to give a dietitian nightmares.
Luckily, Archer appeared just as she stepped out of the meeting room, which itself was just off the main area of the lab. Now packed with Next, some with their families, the massive open space seemed much smaller. Only one of the transport areas remained.
“
What's the deal?” Kit asked as Archer approached.
“
They're not sure,” he said. “A bunch of alarms went off in the cell blocks because the power to them went below safe levels and kicked over to batteries. Thing is, we're still getting power. Solar grid, wind turbines, and what we take in from the outside, all of it is working.”
The pieces clicked together easily. “Shit,” Kit said. “He's draining the power.”
Archer frowned. “What?”
Kit's mind raced. “Think about it. Nunez said Ray and Thomas are similar. Both of them are at the top of the food chain. Ray absorbs energy from matter. The kid must be drawing it in from our grid. Making himself stronger the way Ray does.”
Horror dawned on Archer's face. “Wait,
more
powerful? He's just out there charging up like a battery?”
“
Yes!” Kit said emphatically. “He can already toss cars around like tin cans, and he spent the last five hours getting stronger. How long before he can crack this place open like an egg?” She tried to work through the options. “We need to evacuate. Call Robinson, have him send the teleporters back. We'll need to cut the power.”
Archer put his hands on her shoulders, getting her attention. “Kit, listen. There's no way we can evacuate everyone in time. And if we shut off power, the inner doors are going to lock automatically and the prisoners are only going to have battery power keeping them in their cells. They'll break out in a few hours, long before we can get everyone somewhere safe.”
“Damn it,” Kit said. He was right, of course. The smart thing would have been to move everyone out of state temporarily. As soon as they had moved from physically transporting people to using the teleporters, that should have occurred to her. Why funnel every potential victim into one place if it was close enough for Thomas to walk to? Kit shook off the thought. She could berate herself and second-guess later. Right now they needed to act.
Kit caught the attention of a passing member of the maintenance crew and waved him over. “How well do you know the layout of this place?” she asked the man.
“I helped build it,” the man said. “Most of us did.”
“
Good,” she said. “What's the lowest level with direct access to the access tunnel the rest of the staff use to enter the building?”
“
Level fifteen,” he said.
“
What are you thinking?” Archer asked.
Kit chewed her lip. “We evacuate the civilians and any non-critical staff. We can't send them all the way out of the building since Thomas might spot them, but that tunnel is hundreds of yards long. It should be able to hold everyone. If we assume he's going to break in, then we wait for him to do it, then send word to open the tunnel and have everyone make a run for it while we distract him.”
“What about the prisoners?” Archer asked in a toneless voice.
“
They stay put,” Kit said firmly. “Those sections of the facility are the toughest. Each of the cells are reinforced to prevent escape, and the barriers between floors can withstand just about anything. Push comes to shove, I'm getting the innocent out first. That's my priority.”
Archer nodded. “We should get started.”
Kit shook her head. “No. If you trust me, then the evacuation is your job. If we're operating on the assumption that Thomas is going to get in here, then someone has to deal with him. Distract him, maybe even keep the kid busy for a while.”
The big man frowned. “That's suicide.”
Kit couldn't help laughing. “This isn't a movie, Archer. I don't plan on dying. I'm going to have a team with me. We'll be smart about it.” Her expression turned serious. “But if we're doing this, it's now. Speak up with a better idea if you have one, because we don't have much time.”
Rather than argue, he only shook his head and walked off, yelling for Deakins to help him coordinate the evacuation.
Kit stood in front of her team of volunteers. Counting her, they were twelve. Ray stood midway between her and the other ten. She was pleased and not at all surprised to see Phillip Darby among them.
“
You may have noted that I am the only one of you who isn't a Black Band,” Kit said. “You should be aware that Mr. Cassidy isn't like the rest of you. He has no resistance to damage.”
She let the words sink in, though she wasn't especially surprised to see the group nod with easy acceptance. When you were able to shrug off tank rounds, it became a part of life to accept the fragility of everyone around you.
“That said, each of you are wearing armor for a reason. The threat against us, a boy named Thomas Maggard, is a telekinetic with a level of power we have never encountered. As you may know, he killed one of your fellow Black Bands. Maggard has never been tested, so our understanding of his powers is based only on our experiences with him. We believe he can short out your powers long enough to kill you. He can do so from a distance.”
Darby was the only volunteer who didn't react to this news. The rest of the group shared frightened glances. Kit gave them time to calm down.
“From a tactical standpoint, you need to know that you will still retain some of your powers for a short time. The boy is able to drain the reserves of energy in your body, but cannot completely eliminate your abilities. Some will remain. When Farrell was thrown through my vehicle, there was enough residual invulnerability in him to allow his body to rip my truck to pieces. We believe his body used the last of it then, and in the moment when his powers would have begun to recharge, he hit the ground.”
Kit had their attention, eleven pairs of eyes locked onto hers magnetically. “In practical terms, this means two things. If you decide to continue, you will be at risk. You can't just rely on your invulnerability to keep you safe. You'll have to be aware of the situation at all times. Also, being warned gives you a chance. If the boy does use his powers on you, you'll know to duck away if you can and give your body time to bounce back.”