Justice Keepers Saga--Books 1-3, page 99
“She was one of the most timid students I'd ever seen. There she was: a tiny wisp of a girl. Barely five feet tall and facing down a man nearly twice her size. She spent more than half that match retreating, trying to stay out of arm's reach. Confidence comes with practice. We're all unsure of ourselves at first.”
“Even you?”
Jena dropped to one knee at the edge of the gym mat, using a towel to wipe sweat off her face. “Well…” she admitted. “I suppose there are exceptions to every rule. But I was cocky and stupid.”
Pressing her lips into a thin line, Melissa narrowed her eyes. “I have a hard time believing that,” she said, shaking her head. “You seem like the kind of person who can outwit any opponent.”
“Comes with experience, kid.” Glancing over her shoulder, Jena flashed a smile that could melt ice. “Being a good Keeper isn't about how straight you shoot or how well you fight.”
She got up with a groan, dropping the towel to the floor. Knuckling her back with one hand, Jena turned around. “The Nassai want people who care about justice. If you have that to start with, we can mold you into what you need to be.”
Concern for justice.
That got Melissa thinking about her latest conversation with her father. He was still uneasy about the prospect of his daughter spending time with a telepath, but with a little coaxing, she might be able to change his mind. Maybe Jena could help. From what little she had gleaned through contact with Raynar, the boy had been severely traumatized. He needed a friend.
Melissa clasped her hands together behind her back, bowing her head to the other woman. “So I was wondering,” she began with a shrug. “Would you be able to set up a meeting with Raynar and possibly his companion?”
Jena turned with menace in her eyes.
Melissa smiled, her cheeks suddenly burning. “It's not what you think,” she said, taking a step back. “He's just a nice kid who's been through some stuff. He could use a friend right now.”
Jena looked her up and down with eyes that could peel the hide off a wolf. “I don't know what you've been told,” she began cautiously. “But Raynar is in a detention cell at the moment. We lost Keli the other night.”
“Lost her? How?”
“She escaped,” Jena said. “The woman used some kind of mind mojo on one of our Keepers. Left him disoriented while she used the SlipGate.”
Crossing her arms, Melissa turned away from the other woman. A shiver ran down her spine. “Sorry to hear that,” she whispered. “Do you believe Raynar was in some way involved with her escape?”
“We're not sure.”
“So what are you charging him with?”
“At the moment, nothing.” The soft squeak of the gym mat told her that Jena was coming up behind her. You didn't have to be a Keeper to have eyes in the back of your head; you just had to be observant. “First Slade and then Keli. Two major incidents in one week. I'm not willing to let that boy cause any more havoc.”
Looking up, Melissa blinked at the ceiling. “But he might be innocent,” she said, whirling around to face her mentor. “Isn't holding him without evidence a pretty big violation of your oath?”
Jena frowned down at the floor, reaching up with one hand to run fingers through her hair. “You're definitely your father's daughter,” she muttered. “I'm sure we can find some proviso in the law that makes an exception when the prisoner is an obvious threat to public safety.”
“Let me talk to him.”
“Absolutely not!”
Squeezing her eyes shut, Melissa shook her head in frustration. “I think I can get through to him,” she said, approaching the other woman. “He trusts me. If he does know something, I think he'd be willing to tell me.”
Jena's face could have been carved from granite, her eyes sharp enough to split a stone in half. “You think so?” she asked. “You think you can sift through the illusions a telepath might weave into your mind?”
“Maybe not,” Melissa admitted with some reluctance. “But don't you think it's better than violating his rights?”
The ghost of a smile flashed across Jena's face, a smile that vanished so quickly you might have thought you'd imagined it. “I see you have been listening to your father,” she said. “Let me make this perfectly clear. I have absolutely no intention of holding that boy indefinitely. If worse comes to worst, I'll release him back to his people.”
“They'll enslave him again!”
“Not necessarily. I won't give him back to the military.” Jena took a deep breath, and it was clear that she was nearing the end of her patience. “Now, I'd like you to note that while I appreciate your commitment to human rights, I know a little bit more about this situation than you do. So can we please resume your lesson?”
“All right.”
Melissa was happy to let the subject drop for now, but a nagging frustration in her belly made it clear this wasn't over just yet. Raynar had shared his experiences with her. In a way, she had lived them first hand. There was no way she was going to let him wind up in another cell.
Anna checked herself in the mirror.
Her face was framed by a bob of short brown hair with thin bangs falling over her forehead. “It'll do,” she said, her eyebrows rising. “A little shorter than what I'm used to, but it could be fun.”
A red dress with thin straps that tied behind her neck clung lovingly to her body, and she had to admit that she was a little self-conscious. Anna liked dresses – something she hadn't discovered until well into adolescence – but she preferred cute over sexy. This one seemed to emphasize assets she didn't even know she had.
With a sigh, she turned.
The small bathroom in Gabi's quarters was just big enough for two people to stand side by side, and she was more than a little put off by having to share the space with the other woman. Of course, she was the guest here. The alternative was putting on this silly getup in her own apartment and wearing it on her trip to the SlipGate terminal. In the harsh Canadian winter, no less!
Gabi stood in front of the counter in a silver dress with a swooping neckline, her long black hair falling over her shoulder-blades. The look of concentration on her face was something Anna usually expected from a sniper lining up her shot. “You look very fetching,” Gabi said in a soft voice.
“I'll just be happy when this is over.”
A few days on a reduced dose of Amps had made Rosco and Mei-Ling more than willing to talk. The side-effects of that Bleakness-cursed drug were enough to turn Anna's stomach. Increasing the dose to the levels they needed was out of the question, of course – they could hardly leave a pair of psychos with Keeper strength unattended in a detention cell – but Jena had authorized a little bit extra to relieve their symptoms.
The pair weren't entirely certain what their boss intended to do with his brand new telepath, but Rawlins had several well-to-do clients, the most influential of which was one Senator Camacho, a man who just happened to be throwing a fundraiser tonight. Access to a telepath would be very useful for a politician. If Camacho had indeed purchased Keli's services, she would be at the party.
Anna turned around.
She stood with her arms folded, frowning down at herself. “I feel like a complete idiot,” she said. “Honestly, Gabi, how did you learn to walk around in something like this?”
Gabi was using some kind of cloth pad to apply a thin layer of makeup to her face. “The Antaurans are far worse when it comes to fashion.” She leaned in close to study herself in the mirror. “Wear a few of their outfits and you'll develop a new appreciation for Earth clothing.”
The woman glanced over her shoulder with a raised eyebrow, and suddenly Anna was reminded of her primary school teachers. “Aren't you going to finish getting ready? We have to leave soon.”
“I am ready.”
“You're not putting on makeup?”
Anna snarled like a feral beast, shaking her head. “It's an idiotic custom,” she said, facing the mirror once again. “You go to all that hassle just to paint your cheeks a slightly different shade of your natural skin tone. No thank you.”
“Yes, but your job is to blend,” Gabi countered. “This mission requires finesse, not the obvious flash and flair that most Keepers employ. Earth women put on makeup, and though it's not a major tip off, these little things will stand out to a trained eye.”
Anna growled.
She grabbed the case of colourful powders and chose something with a reddish hue. She figured that it was called 'blush' for a reason. However, before she could even begin to apply it, Gabi seized her wrist.
Glancing over her shoulder, Anna frowned at the other woman. “I thought I was supposed to blend in.”
Gabi stared down at the counter with lips pursed, sighing with exasperation. “You chose the wrong shade, dear,” she said softly. “If you put that one on you'll look…well, silly to say the least.”
“Companion have mercy!”
“Look, just leave that alone for now,” Gabi muttered. “It won't cause that much of a stir, in the long run. Some other time, I will teach you how to do this.” When she saw the look on Anna's face, she added. “If you want to learn, that is.”
Anna stalked out into the living room with irritation slowly fizzling away. At least she didn't have to put up with idiotic Earth customs. Honestly…why any woman in her right mind would want to decorate her face like some kind of mural in a hallway was just beyond her, and she had already made a few concessions to the need for stealth.
The haircut wasn't something she had planned on, but if Camacho had purchased Keli's services from Rawlins, then it was likely that the drug dealer had warned him to be on the lookout for a Keeper with bright red hair. Brunette had not been her first choice of hair colour. She wanted to do something fun – Blue hair had always appealed to her – but Gabi had nixed that idea in short order. She was playing the role of a junior executive for a multinational bank, and women in such positions did not dye their hair blue.
Like all other crew quarters on the orbital stations, Gabi's living room was a fairly large space with a glass coffee table and a couch positioned under windows that looked out upon the stars.
Anna stood hunched over, reaching up to brush strands of dark hair off her cheek. “Just a few short hours,” she muttered to herself. “Play this role for one night, and you can go back to being the girl who wears adorable t-shirts.”
The door chime rang.
“Come in!”
Double doors slid open to reveal Jack standing outside in a tuxedo with a skinny necktie. His hair had been dyed a deep golden blonde. “Tell me the truth,” he whined, shuffling into the living room. “How bad is it?”
Covering her mouth with three fingers, Anna shut her eyes and trembled with soft laughter. “It's…nice…” she managed after a moment. “Really, you're going to be the envy of drunken frat boys everywhere.”
Jack looked up at the ceiling. Deep creases formed in his brow. “I'm gonna die,” he croaked out in a voice that made her think of a frog being stepped on. “I'm gonna die slowly and painfully.”
“It's not that bad.”
Gabi emerged from the bathroom, looking hot enough to stave off winter in that silver dress. It was something about the way she walked. The woman moved with a kind of grace you couldn't duplicate even with a Nassai's assistance. “Jack!” she exclaimed with a glance in his direction. “You look smashing.”
Jack went red, then lowered his eyes to the floor. “Thank you,” he said, backing up until his body was pressed to the wall. “Now all I need is for Ashton Kutcher to jump out of nowhere and tell me I've been punked.”
“Don't listen to Anna,” Gabi said.
When Anna turned, the woman was kneeling by the couch, fishing a pair of shoes out from a small trunk. “She has been less than cooperative to say the least. I think you look quite handsome.”
The door chime rang again.
This time, it was Ben who strode into the living room, dressed in a tuxedo that was similar to Jack's. He grunted as he straightened the cuff of his sleeve, shaking his head. “I, for one, am ready to have some fun.”
Ben glanced over his shoulder, directing a smile at Jack. “So, you ready to do this, bro?” he asked, eyebrows rising. “Just like old times. Never thought we'd get to be each other's wing-men again.”
“Wing-men?” Anna inquired.
“Well, it goes back to the days before I was domesticated,” Ben explained. “Jack would find guys for me to date, and I'd find women for him to stand awkwardly next to until they went away.”
“I don't know about that,” Gabi said softly. “Jack can be quite charming when he's allowed to come to it on his own terms.”
That much was true.
There was something disarming about Jack's odd mix of confidence and humility. One moment, he would be right in your face, defending some point of logic he insisted was of vital importance; the next, he would be apologizing for thinking too much of his own opinion. It was…kind of cute, actually.
“All right,” she said. “Let's go.”
Out in the hallway, they found Jena standing with her arms crossed, dressed in a pair of black pants and a purple top with sleeves that flared at the cuff. “All right. You know the plan,” she said, nodding to each of them. “You get in, you look for Keli. If you find her, Ben disables the slaver's collar.”
Ben smiled, bowing his head to her. “Shouldn't be too hard,” he said with a quick shrug of his shoulders. “Whoever's wearing the transceiver will be transmitting his vitals to the collar. I just have to read the signal and decode it.”
“Can't you just block the signal?” Jack asked.
Ben squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head with a growl. “Too dangerous,” he explained. “The collar might be programmed to activate if anything disrupts the signal. We want to bring her out of this alive.”
“You find her,” Jena said, “you bring her out. I'll have a car waiting to pick you up. Any last minute questions?”
No one said a word.
“Then let's do this.”
25
The limo door swung open to reveal a man in a white linen shirt and a black vest who leaned forward. He smiled as he poked his head through the door. “So pleased you could attend ma'am.”
Anna got out of the car.
She stood on the curved driveway with two hands clutching her purse, the wind teasing her short brown hair. “What a lovely house!” she exclaimed. “Thank you. I look forward to a wonderful evening.”
The sprawling monstrosity that Senator Camacho actually called his home had two wings and a large porch where white pillars supported an overhanging roof. From here, she could already see men in tuxes and women in colourful dresses climbing the steps to the front entrance. This was going to be a long night.
Ben climbed out of the car behind her, straightening with a grunt. He smiled for the attendant, then nodded his appreciation. “Thank you, my good man,” he said, offering a folded bill. “Keep up the good work.”
He took Anna by the arm.
Despite Gabi's insistence that it might look out of place, she had decided to wear flats tonight, and she was already patting herself on the back for that moment of good sense. The steps were quite steep.
Anna Lenai avoided heels on principle – why in the Holy Companion's good name would someone short and adorable want to undermine the cute factor with unnecessary inches? – but tonight, it was especially important that she avoid pointless frivolity. This wasn't a party; it was a mission, and if she had to fight, she wanted as much mobility as she could manage in this silly dress.
Anna sucked on her lower lip. “This just seems wrong to me,” she said, turning her head to survey her surroundings. “Elsewhere on this planet, people die of starvation, and these people dine in opulence.”
Ben wore a smooth expression, his eyes fixed dead ahead. “You're being tense,” he whispered, patting her arm. “Remember, for the remainder of the evening, you are one of these people. Act like you're enjoying yourself.”
In her mind's eye, she could see Jack and Gabi coming up the stairs behind them, linked arm in arm. They were a pair of silhouettes in the misty fog. There were times when she envied Jack's ability to project colour onto his spatial awareness. Not that it mattered much. She was intimately aware of everything around her.
A doorman in a tux with a white shirt and bow-tie stood on the stop step with a tablet in hand. “Name?” he said without so much as looking up as they approached. So impersonal. Was that supposed to be the point?
“Kenneth Feng,” Ben said.
“Linda Feng,” Anna added.
The doorman finally looked up, blinking at them. “Oh yeah,” he said, checking the tablet once again. “We had your names added to the list this afternoon. You're both with Michaelson International, aren't you?”
Ben forced a warm smile, bowing his head to the other man. “That's right,” he said with a curt nod. “We're both big supporters of the senator's campaign. This country needs leadership from people who realize it's the twenty-first century.”
“Go on in.”
Once they were past him, other men in similar livery – was that the correct word for what these men wore? – stepped forward and began waving scanners over them. The small, wrist-mounted devices were one of the gestures of good will that her people had offered when making first contact with the Earthers. They were not full multi-tools, but they would detect most Leyrian firearms. She felt naked without her gun. Even more so without her multi-tool.
Closing her eyes, Anna sniffed to show her disapproval. “Is this really necessary?” The disdain in her voice was a shock. “Surely you can see that this dress offers very few places to conceal a weapon.”
One of the men glanced over his shoulder with a frown, watching her for a very long moment. “Standard precaution, ma'am,” he said. “Shouldn't take more than a few seconds.”
“They're clean,” another said.
Anna stiffened, heaving out a sigh of frustration. “I could have told you that myself before you wasted your energy.” She pushed past them with an angry stride. “Let's go, Kenneth. We have things to do.”
