Justice Keepers Saga--Books 13-15, page 51
“Quick question, Greck!” Jack called out, scanning his surroundings for anything he could use. “You’ve been living in my skin for a while; maybe you finally understand how I tick. Why do I prefer to play Black in Chess?”
“What nonsense are you blathering about?”
There!
Jack spotted the corpse of a Ragnosian soldier about twenty feet away. Or more accurately, he spotted the weapon poking out from beneath that corpse. A little something to even the odds.
Jack ran for the body, dropping to one knee and rolling the soldier onto his back. Dead eyes stared up at him. The poor guy must have gone down when Drayvin set the drones loose. A shame. But there was nothing to be done about it. Jack could beat himself up later.
He retrieved the fallen assault rifle. Ragnosian weapons had no special settings – no EMP or high-impact rounds – but anything was better than nothing. He would just have to get creative.
Rising, Jack scooted back to the wall and then sidled along it until he reached the corner. “So, what’s your answer, Slade?” he asked. “Why do I prefer to play as Black in Chess?”
“I have no clue.”
The man was close. Maybe thirty feet away. Oh, how Jack hated hearing Slade’s words in his voice.
He aimed around the corner.
The other man stood in the trench that his force-field had created. Fat chunks of concrete littered the ground at his feet. There must have been hundreds of them. Could Jack use those to his advantage? Ideas spun through his head.
Slade raised his hand.
Jack fired.
A force-field popped up, intercepting every shot, but the bullets didn’t simply bounce off. Instead, they seemed to be caught in the energy barrier, trapped like flies in a spiderweb.
Jack ducked out of sight.
The bullets sped past him, a few of them scraping the wall. A storm of flattened ammo whipped across the plaza, shattering windows on the other side. “You cannot win, Jack,” Slade declared. “Your Justice Keeper powers are nothing compared to the fury I can unleash.”
Rolling his eyes, Jack heaved out a sigh. “Yeah, yeah,” he muttered. “Hey, did you remember to visit the north building? I think there’s some scenery over there you haven’t chewed yet.”
He spun around to face the wall, then leaped sideways, rolling into the open. Coming up on one knee, he raised his weapon and fired.
This time, Slade didn’t bother with a force-field. The man already had one hand extended, a Bending forming at his fingertips. The bullets Jack unleashed began to curve, looping around in a tight circle.
Jack threw himself into another roll, grunting when several rounds struck the spot where he had been only moments ago. Slade’s Bending fizzled away, and Jack tried to fire another shot.
He never got the chance.
Electric current surged through his body, blue sparks crackling on his skin. The jolt almost knocked him unconscious. He was barely even aware of Slade raising his pistol. Desperate, Jack reached out to Summer.
A Time Bubble formed around him, a narrow tube that refracted the light and reduced the amount of electricity coursing through his body. Reduced it but did not eliminate it. Individual pulses still washed over Jack, but since they were coming at a slower rate, he could resist.
Jack forced himself to stand. Stepping aside, he breathed a sigh of relief when he was no longer in the path of Slade’s fancy taser. But that relief came at a price. The tingle in his skin had become a sharp prickle.
He gasped when he saw a bullet inching its way toward him. Slade had already fired. Well, the man was nothing if not persistent.
Jack hoisted up his rifle.
A second bubble appeared around Slade, a pocket of accelerated time that would allow him to dodge any incoming fire. Jack squeezed the trigger anyway. Anything to keep the son of a bitch busy for a few seconds.
He released his hold on space-time.
Slade’s bullet zipped past him, and then a force-field was coming his way, a wall of rippling energy that threatened to mow him down. Jack leaped to his right, barely evading it. He came down on his side, rolling across the rough concrete. Where was-
Bullets hit the ground behind Jack, leaving cracks in the pavement. Flopping onto his back, he threw up another Time Bubble, this one in the shape of a large dome. The effort set his skin on fire and left a throbbing behind his eyes, but there was no choice. He needed those few extra seconds to dodge.
Ignoring his exhaustion, Jack got to his feet and ran toward the building. Using one hand, he thrust his rifle toward Slade and fired several shots. He could already see that the other man had taken refuge in a bubble of his own. Slade was smart. Never let your enemy have extra time. They would use it to kill you.
Of course, this kind of contest – two men trying to out-Bend each other – was the sort of thing that Keepers were told to avoid at all costs. You could push your Nassai to the point of collapse in less than a minute. Bendings were meant to supplement your physical abilities; use them only as a last resort. Well, when your opponent had a N’Jal, the last resort was the only resort.
Jack let his bubble collapse when he was still two steps away from its shimmering surface. Sure enough, a stream of bullets rushed past in front of him. Slade was clever. He had anticipated that Jack would hold on to the very last second and had fired at a spot in Jack’s path.
He sensed the other man off to his left. Slade was already lining up another shot.
Jack jumped over the trench, clutching his rifle in both hands, firing a spray of ammo at the building’s front window. Glass shattered, exposing a clear path into the lobby.
No sooner did those shards hit the floor than Jack followed them. He dove through the window, landed on his belly and slid over the floor tiles. Half a second later, he was back on his feet.
With a gasp, he ducked behind one of the thick, marble pillars that supported the ceiling. He needed time to think, to formulate a plan. There was no way he could beat Slade in a straight fight. He couldn’t run – Slade would go after the others if he fled – and he was out of ideas. Which meant maybe, just maybe, it was time for a noble sacrifice.
Isara retreated through the corridor, breathing hard. Sweat glistened on her brow, and her long, auburn hair was a mess. The woman wore red – Jena was starting to think that was a common motif with her – but this time, it was cargo pants and a t-shirt. Well, at least there was one small difference between them. Jena didn’t mind red, but her favourite colour had always been green.
“We don’t have to fight,” Isara said.
Striding forward, Jena made no attempt to hide her disdainful scowl. “Don’t we?” she asked. “Because I’m pretty sure that’s what happens when good guys and bad guys end up in a room together.”
Isara stopped in the middle of the hallway, drawing herself up to full height. The woman blinked. “Good, bad,” she breathed. “Your perceptions of me have been coloured by Hunter and Lenai. Have they told you nothing about the times I helped them?”
“Yeah,” Jena growled. “You’re a real saint.”
Isara slipped into one of the labs, forcing her to follow. The room was quite large with multiple curved tables supporting SmartGlass monitors. Huge windows looked out on Cherry Avenue. On an ordinary day, there would be people on the sidewalk. But not today. Today, the city was quiet.
Isara backed away, clinging to the wall next to the door.
Jena, on the other hand, moved deeper into the room, putting her back to the window. It was tactically unsound, and she knew it. She had left her enemy with a clear escape route. Isara might decide to slip past her and go for the nuke, but somehow, Jena didn’t think so.
She couldn’t quite explain it, but she felt an irresistible urge to test the other woman. Just to see what she was up against. Audrin warned her to be careful. Jena could feel the Nassai’s apprehension, and she knew exactly what it meant. Had Ilia been like that? She couldn’t remember having ever experienced such naked emotion from her previous Nassai – faint impressions here and there, but nothing this solid – but then she probably hadn’t been paying attention.
Just as she had suspected, Isara didn’t go for the door.
Instead, she cautiously approached Jena with her hands up. “I brought you back for a purpose,” she said. “It wasn’t just to earn Jack’s loyalty. You are my daughter, and Slade took you from me.”
Jena backed up, painfully aware of a table just behind her. “No,” she said coldly. “You don’t get to call me that. My mother was Ilia Morane. You? You’re just the monster who wears my face and tarnishes my mediocre name.”
Isara closed her eyes, and for a second, Jena could swear the other woman was genuinely hurt. “I see,” Isara mumbled. “But perhaps it’s not too late to change all that. The Inzari listen to me. They will give you an honoured place in their service. Together, we can cast down Slade and undo this destruction he caused.
“Sorry, Mumsy,” Jena spat. “I just got my soul back. Not really looking to sell it.”
“I should have known that Lenai would poison you against me.”
Isara began a high roundhouse kick.
Jena ducked, allowing the woman’s foot to pass over her head. She popped up in time to watch her twin spin for a back-hand strike.
Reacting with inhuman speed, Jena caught the other woman’s arm with both hands. She forced Isara to bend double and ran her toward the wall. But Isara somehow wiggled out of her grip, falling back behind her.
The woman jumped and kicked Jena’s back, sending her into the wall. Snarling, Jena gave her head a shake. “Okay, that sucked.” When she turned around, she was confronted by the sight of her own face.
Isara drew back her arm for a punch.
Jena slipped away.
Isara’s fist hit the duroplastic, leaving a tiny dent in its surface. A dent that quickly smoothed itself. You would have never known the wall had taken any damage. Flexing her fingers, Isara hissed.
Jena moved in to attack.
Isara punched her nose, then spun for a back-hand blow that took Jena across the cheek. Pain blossomed inside Jena’s skull. Pain and dizziness. Her legs wanted to give out. She was barely even aware of the other woman seizing her shirt.
Isara lifted her off the floor and then threw her sideways with a burst of Bent Gravity. She went flying across the room, rolling over one of the worktables and knocking the monitors to the floor.
Jena soon followed, landing on her all fours, shaking her head to clear the fog out of her brain. “Bleakness take me,”
“They told me you were one of the best,” Isara said as she flowed through the lab. She deftly maneuvered around the tables, nudging chairs out of the way. “I always took pride in that. But I see now the claims were exaggerated.”
The woman was a wraith, closing in on Jena, clenching a fist for a devastating punch.
Jena grabbed one of the fallen screens, twisting around to use it as a shield. Isara’s fist hit the SmartGlass – which was strong enough to endure repeated blows from a hammer – and she yelp as the jolt traveled up her arm.
“New body,” Jena said, getting to her feet. “Still working out the kinks.”
She slammed the screen into her doppelganger’s nose, causing Isara’s head to snap backward. The woman stumbled but quickly recovered. Falling over, she caught herself with both hands and brought her feet up to tear the screen out of Jena’s grip.
The woman flipped upright, snarling, and then leaped for a high kick.
Jena threw herself into a forward somersault, allowing her enemy to sail past above her. She came up in a crouch, slammed her hands down on the carpet and lifted both feet to kick out behind herself.
The soles of her shoes struck Isara’s back, a blow that she augmented with Bent Gravity. Her opponent went flying toward the window – which was just ordinary glass – and crashed right through it, shards dropping to the ground below.
Wrenching her body around, Isara caught the ledge and dangled from the second floor. She pulled herself up, grunting, ignoring the slivers that pierced her bare hands. Well, at least Jena knew where her pain tolerance came from.
Isara got back on her feet, standing on the ledge. Her face was a mask of feral rage. Her eyes promised murder.
Bending over, Isara ran her fingers along the floor, trapping the remaining shards in a Bent Gravity field. They clung to her skin as she pulled her hand away. She twirled, and glass rose up all around her, forming a cyclone that encircled her body.
Jena gasped.
Her twin froze and then thrust one hand out, sending every fragment of glass zipping across the room. The air whistled as they sliced through it.
Crouching, Jena raised both hands to shield herself, a Bending forming at her fingertips. She felt the power coursing through her. Every cell in her body was alive with it. The shards that would have ripped through her curved off to her left and drove themselves into the wall. Duroplastic flexed, and a few of them popped out, landing on the floor.
She released her Bending and yelped when she saw Isara hurtling toward her. The other woman kicked her in the chest.
Jena went sprawling backward, toppling over another table, knocking monitors to the floor. Curling up into a ball, she rolled off and came up in a fighting stance. Isara was relentless. She casually hopped over the table and pressed her attack.
The woman was a roided-up boxer, throwing punch after punch, forcing Jena to deflect each one. The effort pushed her to her limit, but Jena was able to keep up. Then Isara jumped, spinning in the air for a hook-kick.
Jena grunted when her enemy’s heel struck her chin. Her vision blurred as pain spread through her. It was all she could do not to fall over. Come on, Jen, she scolded herself. You said you could handle this bitch, so handle her.
Isara charged in with a fierce right-hook.
Jena caught her wrist, holding her arm extended. The other fist soon followed, but Jena caught that too, trapping her enemy in an uncomfortable position. Yanking Isara’s arms down, she squeezed her eyes shut and delivered a head-butt that would knock most people unconscious. It certainly brought her no small amount of pain.
Jena followed that with an uppercut to the stomach, a blow that lifted her opponent off the floor. Isara went flying backward, tumbling over the table. She came up on the other side, baring her teeth.
With a shriek, Isara kicked the table and used Bent Gravity to send it careening toward Jena.
Ducking low, Jena ran underneath and then popped up as she moved in for the kill. She jumped, spun in the air and kicked out behind herself.
Her foot slammed into Isara’s chest, driving the other woman backward. Back to the shattered window. With all the equipment they had knocked over, there were plenty of obstacles between here and there.
Isara tripped over a fallen monitor but used it to her advantage. She jumped and back-flipped through the air, landing next to the window. “Stop!” she shrieked. “Stop! Please! It doesn’t have to be this way!”
The nuke was a fat, steel box that stood about as high as Drayvin’s knee. It had a couple of handles that you could use to carry it, and if Drayvin had to guess, they would say it was about thirty pounds, give or take. That was all they could say at first glance. So far, they hadn’t been able to open the thing and they didn’t dare move it for fear of setting off one of the security systems.
The Ragnosians had placed the device in a small room with pastel-green walls and a long, polished conference table. Large windows looked out on the plaza below. Drayvin saw dead soldiers and ruined flyer drones scattered across the concrete. They also caught a glimpse of one of Slade’s force-fields, a rippling wall of energy that sped over the ground. Jack was battling with his doppelganger. Of course, he would choose to do so in a place where a stray bullet could come through the window and hit Drayvin. Well, there was no point in dwelling on that possibility.
Larani was crouching by the wall, rubbing her chin as she studied the metal box. “Can you get it open?” she asked, casting a glance toward Drayvin.
Sitting on the edge of the table, Drayvin wiped the sweat off their brow. “What do you think I’ve been trying to do?” they asked. “I have to analyze the security systems first.”
Gabrina stood by the door, poking her head into the hallway. She quickly retreated and then turned her penetrating gaze on Drayvin. “Is there anything we can do to help?” she asked in that cool, calm voice of hers.
How to answer that?
The first hurdle Drayvin had to jump was a bio-metric ID scanner. That shouldn’t be too hard. “If I could borrow you for a moment, Ms. Valtez.” The Ragnosian admiral had been kind enough to provide her bio-metric data.
“How can I help?”
“Let me see your hands.”
She indulged that request. Drayvin took her hand and turned it palm up. “Yes,” they muttered. “That will do. Your hands are about the right size.”
Gabrina raised an eyebrow.
Taking their multi-tool – not the new one that had once belonged to Jack’s friend but the one they had been carrying for years – Drayvin scanned Gabrina’s palm. The multi-tool sprayed nanobots onto her delicate skin. “Place your hand here.”
Kneeling next to the box, Gabrina did so, and the latches unlocked with a loud click-clack. The box’s lid opened, exposing a control panel with a small screen. Drayvin saw four colour-coded switches and a number pad.
“What now?” Jon Andalon asked.
Pinching their chin with thumb and forefinger, Drayvin narrowed their eyes. “We have to input a passcode to proceed,” they said. “And I’m afraid Telixa Ethran doesn’t have one for this device.”
“But it still accepted her bio-metric ID?” Larani asked.
“The admiral’s bio-metrics will unlock any bomb,” Drayvin explained. “They wouldn’t have had time to change that after she was relieved of duty. But there is no universal access code. Those are set by the field commanders.”
