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Authors: Jennifer Harlow

Galilee Rising (21 page)

BOOK: Galilee Rising
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"Okay, enough!" Tempest roars. "Enough! It's done, it's all done. Cain's alive, Joanna knows, nothing we can do will change either. The question is, where do we go from here? What's his game this time?"

"Yeah, does he want to throw a hissy fit like the first time? Kill us all like the second? Or is he just bored like the third?" Liberty asks in a snarky tone.

Nightingale removes the tape from his belt. "This should answer your question."

He moves over to us, putting the disk in Doris without even a glance my way. Ignoring me. Stellar. Once again Emperor Cain's smiling face fills the monitor. The brothers' smiles really are uncannily similar. "Hello, old friends. Miss me? I certainly missed all of you." I glance at Nightingale, whose mouth is set vice tight. "Liberty, you're looking as beautiful as ever. I hope that napalm from our last sojourn didn't leave a scar."

"Fucker," she mutters.

"And Tempest, still barking orders and cowing my poor big brother?" He tsks. "I don't hold it against you. He never did enjoy thinking for himself. I don't know how you can stand him as a partner, weak as he is. It always disgusted me." Cain shakes his cowled head. "I suppose I should be grateful for it, though, his weakness. I'm still convinced it was he who uncoupled my handcuffs on the plane last time." We glance at Nightingale for a reaction but don't find one. "Even after all our fights, all we've been through my dearest Jem, you still could not let me die. It touched me, brother. It really did." I actually believe him. I move my hand to touch Jem, but he won't let me. He yanks his hand away. Another sting to my ego. I don't allow it to show.

"I gave considerate thought as to why that is, brother dear." Cain continues. He leans toward the camera. "I believe everyone in the room knows the answer as well. They may pretend they understand you, even that they care about you, but it's underneath their eyes, isn't it? You're still a freak even among the freaks. But worry not, Scout's back, and it'll be just like old times big brother. I promise. See you soon." He kisses at the camera then it cuts to black. Thank you, Jesus.

No one speaks for a few seconds as we process this new information. Liberty breaks the tension. "So…he's bored."

"No. He's lonely," I say as I glance at Nightingale, who hangs his head.

"Jesus Christ, cry me a fucking river," Liberty snaps. She takes a step toward Jem. "This is all your fault. We had a deal last time. You--"

I rise between them, acting as a human barrier. My eyes burn into Liberty's. "Stop it," I hiss. "Leave him alone. Right now."

"No! Joanna, you don't know the absolute hell that psychopath's put us through. The beatings, the shootings, the burns. I-I've held
children
in my arms as they died because of him."

"He's a fucking monster, you get no debate from me on that, okay? I'm just saying, right now, if you continue this, you are letting him win. This is what he wants, can't you see that? That's his endgame: The World versus Jem Ambrose."

"What do you mean?" Tempest asks.

"Think about it. He made those bombs damn easy to find. There were no stipulations about how or who could defuse them. The only one that went off was right outside Jem's work, the rest he all but left a damn map to. Cain went on national television saying he was only killing people because of you. People are already screaming for you to leave town. Now that tape for only you to see. It's Uma all over again. He's trying to take away the one thing he feels is keeping their reconciliation from happening, the one thing brings him happiness. Saving people. This. You." I turn to Nightingale. "Right?"

"Yes," he says quietly.

I spin back around to the others. "See? So stop dwelling on the past and concentrate on how we're going to stop him this time."

"She's right," Tempest says, placing his hands on his wife's shoulders. "We need to start working on strategy. Cain--"

"Not here," Jem cuts in as he steps around me. "This is the last time any of us sets foot in this house in uniform until he's found. She has nothing more to do with this, with us."

"What?" I ask. "No."

"We have to assume he'll have people following me, if he doesn't already," he says to the other two. "If Joanna's not already in his sights, I don't want to put her there now."

"You two have been playing kissy face all over town," Liberty says. "There's already gossip."

"We were never publicly affectionate, and I've been telling people they've just been business meetings, in part for this very contingency." His gaze whips back to me. "Call board members and begin asking about investing in my drug company now you have enough information about it. Maybe start…publicly dating someone to quell the rumors, someone who won't mind lying to the press about when you started the relationship." I'm about to open my mouth to protest, but he turns away. "If you have to come over here, come as yourselves. In case her phones and e-mails are being surveiled, no shop talk. Regardless, she's no longer part of this."

"Excuse me, I am right her--"

He spins around again, grabbing me hard by the arm and dragging me toward the couch. "This is not up for debate. One of those bombs was in your office building. If we didn't need it so badly, I'd smash that computer so you wouldn't be tempted to use it. You're done. Finished. This is not your fight. You are to have nothing more to do with this. With us. In any capacity. What happened today between us, all of it, was a mistake," he says, lowering his voice. "I shouldn't have…" He shakes his head. He can't even say it. "I'm sorry."

"No. No way you're benching me. I--"

He squeezes my arms even harder. "He'll kill you!" he says desperately through gritted teeth. "He. Will. Kill. You.
No
." He releases me, literally casts me aside and looks at the others. "I have the old communicator, we'll keep in touch that way." He pauses. "I am sorry for this. All of it. I…bye."

Without a glance my way, he walks out the way he came, then flies down the dark tunnel to the beach. I think I've just been sucker punched in the gut, it sure feels like that. I've lost him before I ever had him.

"Someone should go after him," Tempest says to his wife.

She scowls. "Fine," she says before lifting off the ground to fly away.

"Are you okay?" Tempest asks me.

"Um, fine," I say, clearing my throat.

"He's right, you know," he says, stepping toward me. "If Cain even suspected--"

"I know!" I shout, voice echoing through the cavern. Tempest is taken aback as I am. "Sorry. I'm just going to…" I point to the exit, bow my head, and start up the ramp to the living room in a daze. I've shut down again. Everything's gone one degree fuzzier than before. It's damn stuffy in the living room, so I walk outside to the patio in case that helps. It doesn't. I sit in the chair and unclip my cell phone before I even realize it. I still have work to do. If Cain has tapped my phones, he knows I'm in this game already. I'll risk the call. He picks up on the fifth ring.

Over the commotion in the background, he says, "Captain O'Hara."

"It's Jo."

"Hold on a second." I can hear him walking to shut the door. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, but I need a favor. Have you processed the prints from the hospital bomb yet?"

"Just about to. Why?"

"You're going to find the one from the hospital has prints all over it. I need you to…lose that report."

"What? Why?"

"The prints on it don't belong to any of the perps, they'll belong to the person who defused the bomb. And his life will be ruined if word gets out he's in anyway associated with this. You know I wouldn't ask if it wasn't absolutely necessary."

The other end is quiet for a few seconds. "If you're withholding evidence, Jo--" he warns.

"I'm not," I lie. "Look, I know it's a lot to ask, but I swear on Justin's grave the man whose fingerprints on that bomb had nothing to do with this. Not directly, anyway. I saw him handle the bomb, and we are damn lucky he did. I can't get more specific than that. I know I have no right to ask, but I am. I am asking you to trust me. Please."

More silence, more tense fucking long horrible silence, then, "You have been working with them, haven't you? I knew it! Jo, what the hell are you thinking? After everything--" I think he moves the phone away in an attempt to regain his composure. I do have that effect on him. On all men it seems. "Jo," he says, calmer now, "whatever you're doing, or thinking of doing, don't. Get out. Get away from those people before you become too involved."

I don't know what it is about that last word, but it makes tears well in my eyes. I bite my lip to stop the fuckers. "It's too late for that, Harry."
Get a hold of yourself, for
Christ's sake
. "Um, I assume you're helping the Feds with this one, so I'll send you all I have on Cain. We think he was responsible for an explosives theft a few weeks ago. I'll send you that file too. Just please get rid of that report or you'll ruin a great man's life.
Please
."

"I'll see what I can do," he says.

"Thank you, Harry. Bye."

I'm about to end the call, when he says, "Joanna? Look after yourself, alright?"

No one else is going to, right? "I will. Bye, Harry." I hang up, pulling my legs up so I'm hugging them to my chest, and stare up at the starry sky.

Here I am again. All alone.

Fuck hope.

 

*

 

I didn't want to see any of them after that so I retreated into my bedroom, passed out after five minutes, woke at 5am, and returned to work. I've never been good at doing what I was told. Never. Rebel with several causes, me. I review all the progress the others made--very little-- save for IDing a partial print on the disk. Only problem is that the man it belongs to a man that has been dead for over five years. Danny Watkins, Alkaline henchman, was presumed dead after being shot during a police raid led by Justice. The body was never recovered because the place then exploded. Watkins specialty was bombs. The search on him through the databases came back empty. He hasn't used any past aliases or been flagged in any worldwide search since his "death." Our best lead and it is a literal dead end.

They also reviewed the CCTV footage in and around the bombing sites last night. The cameras on the bridge were too high to get a decent look at who planted the charges, but it does show a five man construction crew working around 4am yet no permit was authorized. They did get a shot of the license plate. The truck used was stolen that same night, and it was found torched in the Ward last night. Even less luck at the hospital. There are no cameras in the boiler room or stairwell that far down and with thousands walking in daily, and no idea the time it was planted, we can't identify who carried it in. Pendergast Industries footage wasn't much better, and city hall's cameras were bypassed as best we can tell. The park footage was a bit better. The bomb was in a shopping cart pushed by a homeless person. A few cameras caught the face of a man in ratty clothes leaving the cart by the fountain. After Doris works her magic, he'd ID'd as Gary Acevedo, thug for hire. Per his wrap sheet, he worked for Alkaline too. Small world. I send all the information to Harry as promised.

Now know thy enemy time. From my earlier search on Jem, I know Jordan Ambrose has been wiped from records almost as if he never existed. No birth or death certificates, no social security number, no drivers license ever issued in that name. The only time his name pops up is in a newspaper article about the death of their parents and in a witness statement regarding the death of Uma Gupta. He was never a suspect. Bought himself an alibi. His past aliases prove more fruitful. Jackson Adler, Lee Harper, Finch Adams, one or the others pop up in South America, various countries in Asia and Europe, and even in New Urbana all connected to high profile hits and criminal organizations. Jordan seems to spend his time between terrorist attacks as a hit man or consultant. He's wanted by Interpol, the Moussad, and is on a terrorist watch lists in many countries. Per reports, he mostly works alone, and the few who have ever evoked his name during interrogation shortly never uttered another word. The few surveillance photos of him are fuzzy and he has a different hairstyle, facial hair, even noses in them. This fucker is good.

"Emperor Cain" first appeared four and a half years ago by planting a bomb in Jem's hospital then taunting the heroes on TV. The oldies never die. There were several more bombings and taunts until, as soon as he arrived, Cain vanished. The Triumvirate announced he was gone for good and left it at that. The real story is they cornered him in a warehouse, Cain knocked them out, and vanished into thin air. Why he didn't kill them hell if I know but a year and a half later he resurfaced. For his opening act, he set off Sarin gas at a charity gala, then set up a series of elaborate traps for the team. He attempted to drown Tempest by flooding a sewer, burning Liberty at the botanical gardens, gassing Jem at the gala, and between those crimes blowing them up a few more times just for shits and giggles. Guess he regretted leaving them alive the previous time.

The good news was they caught him, the bad was before he could be processed, he escaped custody and went underground. It came as no real surprise when he returned for a command performance a year later. He made the heroes jump through hoops just to toy with them. These hoops included kidnapping the First Lady, who Justice helped find. The three weeks he was active that time came to a head when the superteam plus one caught him attempting to hijack a plane. They managed to save the passengers, but the plane took off with Nightingale and Cain still aboard. Only Nightingale returned. Everyone thought that was the end of him. Until yesterday.

I'm not sure how long I'm down here, but long enough to get eyestrain. Time to stop. I pull myself away from Doris and flop on the leather couch with my eyes shut. What I need is a plan. I know they want to freeze me out for my own protection, but many have tried and all have failed with that maneuver. No one dictates my life. This asshole's in my town, blowing up my bridge, and keeping Jem from…
he's going down
. I just don't have a clue as to how.

BOOK: Galilee Rising
6.11Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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