Dark Angel: Skin Game (28 page)

"So you called Agent White."

"A few days later, finally I called him. He told me he'd meet me at my house later, to talk about the problem. Then he asked me if I'd talked to anyone else about the defective equipment. When I said no, he said, 'Good,' and then told me not to mention it to anyone until after I talked to him. Man,

my hackles rose—him wanting me to meet him, alone. At my house!"

"And you ran instead."

"I ran instead." Thompson shivered. "There was something cold in his voice, almost...

inhuman. My gut told me that if my family and I didn't bolt, we'd all end up dead."

"You took this extreme action, based on a gut reaction?"

"That, and, well—I believed... and I believe right now ... that the only way those imagers could be defective, both of them, was if White arranged it himself. He sent me, and my partner, into that warehouse, to die."

"Why?"

"I don't know. But I worked with White long enough to know that people around him had a bad habit of dying when they got in his way. And I wasn't about to take any chances with my family."

"When do you plan to join them?"

"When I... finish what I have to do."

Suddenly Logan understood. "You're lying low ... waiting until you think you've dropped off White's personal radar, and then ..."

"And then I'm going to kill his evil ass."

Logan could well understand the impulse. "Agent Thompson, there's only one problem with your plan ..."

"Yeah—'Thomas Wisdom.' If you could track me, he'll be able to."

Logan shook his head. "No—a bigger problem than that. White's not just with the government. I can't explain it all now, there really isn't time. But he's involved with a...

subversive group that is bigger and more dangerous than the government."

"Cale, I don't share your sympathies with the transgenics, nor do I go for Eyes Only's wild-eyed conspiracy theories. I'm a cop—or I used to be. I stick with the facts. And the fact is—Ames White sent me into that building to die. I believe that—but that doesn't make my partner's killer any less a monster."

"White is the monster. Surely you see that."

"I'm not helping you, Cale. We share a common goal where White is concerned, but your transgenics can go to—"

"Forget that," Logan said. "Think about your family's safety. White's operation is not just in this country—his group has operatives everywhere. They'll find your family...

just like I found you."

"You don't scare me, Cale. I know my family is safe."

Looking into the man's eyes, locking onto them, Logan said, "For now, probably. But White will find them ... and Kleena Kleene, British Columbia, is so small, he shouldn't have any trouble."

Thompson leaned back on the bed, aghast, springs squeaking. "How ... ?"

"One of the anagrams my computer spit out—an anagram for your wife's maiden name. She left the night Hankins died and flew to Bella Coola, then rented a car and drove to Firvale. From there she and your kids went through Anahim Lake and took Highway 20 to Kleena Kleene."

All the blood had drained from Thompson's face, making his beard look so dark it seemed black.

"The truth is, Sage—you said it yourself—if I can find that information, so can White."

Thompson brought a hand up to his face; he was trembling, seemed about to weep.

"Oh ... oh Christ...."

"I can have your family out of there within twelve hours and have them safely relocated. Eyes Only has a network White has never been able to penetrate—and never will."

"You're saying... ?"

"I can get your wife and children new identities, and you too... and eventually you'll even be able to rejoin them."

"But White—"

"A gun is only one way to stop White. A better way is

through Eyes Only—and all you have to do is tell the truth ... tell what you know about White."

Tears had streaked down to glisten in his beard; there was something strangely beautiful about the effect of it, the teardrops catching the dim light of the lamp. "What do you want me to do?"

"To start with, get your stuff. We're getting out of here right now."

And five minutes later they were in Logan's car; traffic had eased and he was able to speed toward Terminal City, unhindered.

As he drove, Logan phoned Asha. She picked up on the second ring.

"Everything all right?" he asked.

"A-okay."

"Good. I've got the other package."

"Cooperative?"

"Very. Meet me. You know where."

"Half an hour," she said, and the line went dead.

Bobby parked the stolen car near the abandoned building that served as an entrance to the exit tunnel. Once inside, Original Cindy led him down the passage toward where it interesected with the main shaft. Blackness surrounded them, only the thin beam of Bobby's pocket flash piercing the dark.

Cindy thought about running, but the transgenic still held the stun rod in his other hand and she didn't trust her achy body and throbbing skull.

They reached the intersection—to their right lay Terminal City; to the left, Logan's building. Automatically, she turned right.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

She turned back to face him. "Terminal City. Isn't that where you wanna go, Bobby?"

He tossed the beam of the flashlight down the corridor to the left. "What's up there?"

"How should I know?" she asked, her tone bitchy. "Do I look like a freakin' tour guide? You wanna join your brothers and sisters, or what?"

On the ride over, Original Cindy had decided that the best course of action was to simply march this freak into Terminal City and let Max kick his sorry ass.

The bland face stared her down. "I think you're lying to me. I think you know what's down that direction. Do you think I'm stupid?"

She gave him the finger. "I think you should sit and spin."

Bobby took a step closer to her and raised the stun rod. "Would you like to sit and spin on this?"

Though designed to stun, those rods could be lethal—she knew—if application was prolonged. And how long was too long, well, that was an issue she didn't particularly want to research.

She smirked sourly. "Leads to a pad Logan's got."

The kid-on-Christmas-morning smile on Bobby's otherwise blank face told Cindy that she had just revealed the piece of information that Bobby most wanted to learn....

She had to get away from this sick fuck and warn Max, and tell her Logan might be in danger.

So she took the right turn and started running, fleeing into the blackness of the tunnel...

... making it only a few steps before the pain in her head distorted her balance, and she went down.

She was about to scream for Max when she saw a blue spark in her peripheral vision, and white hot shards of pain shot through her every fiber.

She couldn't talk or move.

Original Cindy just lay there, shaking violently, an epileptic having a hell of a fit, the pain greater than any she'd

felt in her whole life. She only hoped that she would die soon. Eventually, gratefully, she passed out.

When she came to, Original Cindy found herself tied to a straight-back wooden chair in Logan's apartment. Bobby had lashed her wrists and ankles to the chair and run a strip of duct tape over her mouth. She tried to scream, but all that came out was a muffled "Mmmmmm!"

He had placed her so she faced the door that opened to the staircase below. Turning her head as far as she could in either direction, she looked for Bobby but couldn't see him. Either he was gone or he was directly behind her. She listened as closely as she could, but all she heard was the pounding of her own heart.

Trying to break free was useless.

Though she strained against her bonds, she made no progress. Finally giving up, she stared at the doorknob and waited. It didn't take long before she saw the knob turning.

She tried, but the tape over her mouth kept her from screaming for help.

Terrible elongated seconds passed before the door opened, and she was surprised to see the federal agent she'd seen at Jam Pony a few weeks ago. She hadn't really caught his name—Gott-something?

Whoever he was, now he stood in the doorway, his hands behind his back, his mouth open in surprise as he saw her rocking from side to side in the chair. Over his shoulder she could just make out Logan's freedom fighter friend, Asha.

They both came into the room, Asha with a pistol drawn and when she saw Original Cindy, the gun seemed to leap up in front of her face, both arms outstretched.

Then Bobby stepped forward from behind Asha. He'd blended into the wall and when Asha turned back to face Original Cindy, he made his move.

Sticking out her chin, gesturing with her eyes, Original Cindy tried to signal Asha that Bobby was behind her... but to no avail.

Cindy watched in horror as the stun rod touched Asha's back. The gun leapt from her hand and she wilted to the floor in convulsions. The fed turned and tried to kick out at Bobby, but he succeeded only in providing the transgenic with an easier target. Hitting the agent's leg with the stun rod, Bobby sent him writhing to the floor as well.

Bobby shut the door and dragged the wriggling figures off and out of sight.

And, minutes later, the door opened again.

Logan led the way inside this time, a bearded, wasted-looking man in a black suit trailing behind him. They both froze when they saw her...

... and again Bobby struck!

He touched the man in the black suit with the stun rod and he went down whimpering, doing the electric dance.

Logan dodged the first thrust of the stun rod and backed into the room, trying to put distance between himself and his attacker. Almost immediately, though, he started talking to Bobby in a cool, calm voice, and Original Cindy was reminded that one of her favorite things about Logan was his courage.

"Whoa—what's the problem here?" Logan held his hands up, palms out in a stop gesture as he backed away.

"I have to remove you."

"Remove me?"

Bobby moved closer but Logan kept backing away, keeping the distance about the same.

"I have to replace you."

"Remove or replace me? ... Who are you? What did I do to you?"

They wove around furniture in a slow, deadly cat-and-mouse game.

"I'm Bobby Kawasaki, Logan—you used to see me at Jam Pony ... or maybe you didn't notice me."

"Can't say I ever did. My bad."

"The name they used to call me at Manticore was Kelpy."

"You ... you're a transgenic?" Logan asked.

Seizing the doubt in the moment, Bobby lunged at him with the stun rod, just missing as Logan pitched to the right, the rod sparking angrily when it banged off a table.

"Bobby—I'm trying to help the transgenics ..."

"You're not helping me."

"I'm not?"

"No! You stand between me and Max."

Tipping over her chair, Original Cindy fought to get loose. She saw the look of confusion on Logan's face.

"Between you ... and Max?"

"I need your face!"

"My...?"

Bobby lunged again, and this time Logan tripped on a rug and fell; but it still served the purpose, the stun rod missing him.

"Logan!" someone yelled.

On her side, on the floor, still bound to the chair, Original Cindy turned to see Joshua piling through the door, Alec and Sketchy right behind him. Hope swelled in her chest and she thought that maybe they might get through this all right, after all....

Spinning, Bobby hurled the stun rod at them. Joshua went right, Alec left, and Sketchy stood stock-still as the rod handle hit him in the chest and dropped him to the floor in a quivering mass.

Whirling back, Alec picked up the stun rod and turned toward Bobby. Original Cindy looked back too and felt her newfound hope drain away. Before them stood Logan, and Bobby, who had a knife to Logan's throat, Bobby partially crouched behind him, using the taller man as a shield.

"Move and he dies," Bobby said, his voice raspy with emotion.

"All right," Alec said. "Just stay calm."

Bobby said, "Fuck calm—we're leaving. Try to stop us, he dies."

Motionless on the floor, Original Cindy watched as the transgenic pushed Logan slowly toward the door; something was strange, really weird—Bobby was changing, sort of morphing, but gradually, so subtle you almost didn't notice. ...

Bobby's back was to her now, as he kept Logan between himself and the others. A trembling Sketchy was sitting up, hands to his chest where the rod had struck. Between the intertwined legs of Logan and Bobby, Original Cindy had the perfect vantage point to see that Sketchy was moving his camera up ever so slowly.

"Can't we talk about this, Bobby?" Alec asked. "We should all be friends—you're our brother...."

His back to the door now, Bobby held Logan tighter, a tiny ribbon of red oozing out from where the point of the large knife touched his throat.

Original Cindy could see Bobby's face clearly now, and to her astonishment, the guy she'd thought had Afro blood in him now looked whiter than Hitler, and his hair seemed sort of spiky and blond.

Shit, if he didn't look something like Logan now!

Joshua had finally roused. "Kelpy—don't do this! Max wouldn't want you to—"

"Max will love me," Bobby said, at the doorway now. "You'll see."

"Kelpy—" Joshua said, moving forward.

"Don't follow me—I see one of you down in that tunnel, I slit Logan's throat, then and there."

Damn, Cindy thought. Once he's outta here, who's gonna save Logan?

A few minutes prior to the confrontation in Logan's apartment, a small council of war was under way.

For what seemed like hours, Max and Mole had been going over contingencies that they hoped would turn then-defensive position into an offensive one.

The idea was to turn the disadvantage of being surrounded into an advantage. Their strategy was strikingly simple in nature. When the Army piled through the gates and started going building to building, Max, Mole, and a few others would remain behind to distract them as the rest of the inhabitants took to the tunnels and sewers. As the Army and National Guard came in, they would go out, then come up behind the invaders. Once the tables were turned and it was the Army that was surrounded, maybe they could talk.