Darkest Day (StrikeForce #3) (19 page)

“But you told the leadership out their powers, right?” I asked.

She shook her head. “We don’t out our own. I’ve never believed in that, not even then.”

I didn’t know what to say. The first thing I would have done would have been to throw James and the others under the bus, especially after they testified against her.

“You still loved him?” I asked.

“No. The second I heard him start talking on the stand, anything I still felt kind of burned away. He’s not worthy of my love, or my sadness or anything else. But I won’t lie and say that I would’t like to get his dick in a vise.”

I laughed.

“Karen O”Donnelly, by the way,” she said, sticking her hand out. I shook it with a nod.

“Who’s Jenson?”

She grinned. “My imaginary friend from when I was little. She kept me company during some lonely times, and I thought about her a lot when I was in prison. When I got out and it was time to re-invent myself and start fresh, it was the name I wanted to be known as.”

“Then that’s what I’ll keep calling you, even though I think Karen O’Donnelly was a pretty badass bitch as well,” I said. “And I’m sorry about that shit earlier. You are my friend and I adore you. I don’t want to make you feel helpless or worried or whatever—“

“And I have no right to tell you how to grieve,” he said, waving it off. “We’re good. And I know it was a low blow to use your friendships with Caine and me to try to get you to do what I wanted. I’m sorry about that.”

“So should we trust that James won’t throw us all under the bus now?” I asked.

“Nope,” she said, digging into her pasta again. “I’m going to watch that asshole like a hawk.”

Chapter Eleven

The next morning, I sat beside Jenson in the first row of the meeting room off of the Command lobby, right at the edge of the dais. Ryan sat beside me, looking around as if waiting for trouble to strike. None of us liked this, having all of these people on our home turf and given such short notice of their invasion. Members of the news media lined the two side walls of the meeting room, as well as the first several rows of seats across the aisle from us.

For our part, StrikeForce had shown up in our full masks and uniforms, forming a solid block of gray and black in the first three rows on our side of the room. A glance around showed that every single one of us was tense, even Monster and Lindsey, who hadn’t even been involved in the whole Alpha fiasco, let alone what had come after. The Tribunal did things this way: publicly, trying to be as transparent as possible to reassure the non-powered population that we weren’t such a big threat.

“Here they come,” Ryan said quietly as he leaned closer to me. I turned my head and, sure enough, seconds later the Tribunal, dressed in their customary white uniforms, filed into the room. Cameras started flashing, and the room went silent as the Tribunal members took their seats. I recognized all five of them from watching CNN, and then reading up on them after James had told us they’d be popping in for this little inquisition.

The two on the left were the eldest members of the Tribunal. Jayhawk was a large man in his mid-forties, I guessed, built like a linebacker with longish brown hair and a rather full beard. He could fly, I remembered. Beside him was Ms. Thunder, who basically hit stuff really hard. I rather liked her. She was around forty, with deep, lustrous brown skin that contrasted beautifully with the stark white uniform she wore. Her hair formed a dark halo around her head. She didn’t bother with a mask. That was rare, and I both respected and feared for her because of it. At the other end of the table was Fireball, who (duh) could make and throw fire. She was a tall, thin woman with hair that was almost pure white, though she couldn’t have been older than fifty or so. Beside her was Blademaster, who, as far as I knew, was just a freakishly good swordsman. And in the center was the lead Inquisitor, Eve, who had platinum blond hair, icy blue eyes, and the single best example of resting bitch face I’ve ever seen. She held her head high, as if she’d smelled something bad. She reminded me of the mean girls I’d known in high school, which may have been unfair, but I guess we all have our prejudices.

Once they were settled, Eve rapped a gavel on a small wood block on the table in front of her, and the room settled into silence once again.

“Thank you all for coming today. We are here to officially and publicly hear the case against Alpha of StrikeForce and his fellow Accused, Crystal and Nightbane. We call to speak Portia, leader of StrikeForce, resident of the city of Detroit.”

Portia stood and went to the podium that had been set up just below the dais at the front of the room. The media shuffled, trying to get a shot of Portia’s face, or of her facing the council.

For the next two hours, Portia answered questions about Alpha and what he and his pals had done in their time in charge of StrikeForce. Toxxin, David, and Jenson were also called, and they answered a few questions, usually clarifying something Portia had said. They then called Ryan, and he stood with a sigh.

“It has been stated that like Toxxin, you were also kept collared so that Alpha could dampen your powers at a moment’s notice if he deemed it necessary. Can you tell us why he would do that, Caine?” Eve asked, looking at Ryan expectantly.

I leaned forward. I’d wondered about the same thing. How had Alpha gotten Ryan to join? And what had caused him to decide to collar Ryan?

“I joined StrikeForce shortly after it formed, in May of the fourth year after Confluence One,” he said. “I was excited to serve my city in any way I could. So I secured a meeting with Alpha and agreed to join up. Everything was great for the first couple of months.”

“And then what changed?” Ms. Thunder asked. She had a kind, warm voice, and I liked her even more the longer the questioning had gone on.

I heard Ryan sigh, saw the slight lift in his shoulders as he did so. “I started noticing some strange things happening,” he said quietly.

“What kind of strange things?” Eve demanded.

“At first it was little things. We’d have fights against Dr. Death or Daemon— at that time, those guys weren’t teamed up. They each had their own little crews. The team-up came later,” he explained. “So we’d have these fights, because those two were always around. It was like they were drunk on their power, sure that they could do whatever they wanted, mess with whoever they wanted. And that’s supposed to be the kind of thing we’re here to prevent. But we’d face off against them, and we’d start getting the advantage, and then, out of nowhere, Alpha would call for some really idiotic tactic, like falling back instead of pressing the advantage, or focusing all of our power on a minor member of the villain team when we should have been trying to get the guy in charge. This always seemed to happen when we were right on the verge of overpowering either Death or Daemon. Every time,” he repeated. “After about the fifth time, we got back here empty handed and I was pi—,” he paused. “I was angry,” he said. The room was absolutely silent. “So I marched up to his office and said a few things that bothered him. I suggested that he wasn’t brave enough to take them in. And I said what I was thinking, that it almost seemed like he was helping them.”

“What happened then, Caine?” Ms. Thunder asked.

“I heard someone creeping up behind me, and it was Nightbane. With a dampening collar in his hands,” Ryan said. I clenched my teeth. “I fought with him while he tried to get the collar on me. And I was winning. And then Alpha said something that made me stop, made me realize how screwed I actually was.”

“And what was that?” Eve asked. “What on earth could Alpha possibly have said to make you stay with a team you believed was crooked, to allow a man like Alpha to collar you?” Her tone dripped with derision, and I wanted to hit her. Hard.

At the same time, my stomach twisted. I didn’t want to hear what he would say next. I didn’t want to hear that the guy who had cried at my Mama’s funeral was some kind of psychotic asshole, or a murderer, or a former supervillain. I didn’t want to know.

And at the same time, I did, because I swore to myself I’d never be as blind to anyone again as I’d been with Killjoy. I took a breath and listened.

“He threatened my family,” Ryan said, his voice echoing through the room. The cameras started flashing again, and I felt like I was going to puke.

“Can you clarify when you say that he threatened your family?” Jayhawk asked.

“I’d tried very hard to keep my family away from my life here and in what I did before I came to StrikeForce. I felt better that way, and my family, being the amazing, understanding people they are, went along with it. I had them tucked away. Safe. Or so I thought. It turned out that despite all of my precautions, despite trying to get rid of any possible tie anyone could find between them and me, Alpha found them. And he had proof that he did. Photos. Lots of them,” he clarified. I felt Jenson tense beside me, and then she raised her hand. I glanced at her, and the council seemed confused for a moment.

“Yes, Jenson?” Eve asked tiredly.

“Those photos… they’re still here on our server, the one Beta and I hacked into to get the correspondence Portia mentioned earlier. In case you needed any proof of what he’s saying,” she said.

“Thank you,” Ms. Thunder said, smiling at Jenson. “I’ll see that they’re added to the evidence file. Please catch up with me after this.”

Jenson nodded and settled back in her seat.

“Very well. So what happened after he showed you the photos?” Eve asked Ryan.

“I stopped fighting. And he told me, flat out, that he needed me on the team and that if I wanted to keep my family safe, I’d behave. So, I behaved. I let them collar me, and I did what Alpha said to do. For the most part,” he finished.

“I’d like to go back to something,” Jayhawk said. “You mentioned that you protecting your family went back to the period of time before you joined StrikeForce. What did you do back then that made it necessary to keep your family safe?”

I bit my lip. I remembered Chance saying, back when I’d first met Caine, that Caine was a “trained assassin,” in addition to his super sense powers. I’d certainly seen that he could shoot accurately and with devastating results. I’d guessed he was in the military. Or, hoped he was.

“I’d rather not make that part of the public record,” Ryan said quietly.

My heart sank. He was totally a psychopath. Probably also a murderer. And very likely a whole bunch of other bad shit as well.

Damn it.

“You do realize that that hurts your credibility a bit, yes?” Eve asked.

“Well, I’ll tell you what. When you decide to start telling the public the details of your secret identity, then I’ll divulge my life publicly. You first, though,” he finished.

Eve glared at him wordlessly for several moments, and Ms. Thunder cleared her throat.

“Regardless of what Caine’s life was before his time in StrikeForce, the record stands that he has performed admirably, heroically, and selflessly in his time serving the people of Michigan and the rest of the region. I hardly think this is the type of thing that has any bearing on this case.”

“Yes, of course,” Eve said icily. “You may be seated.” A moment later, she said. “We’re down to our final testimony. I call Daystar, member of StrikeForce, resident of the city of Detroit.”

A murmur went through the assembled crowd, and there went all of the camera flashes again as I stood up uncertainly and made my way to the podium. The flashes continued for quite a while. I didn’t know why they bothered. One picture of me was the same as any other; they couldn’t see anything of the real me. Not a single inch of my flesh showed when I was in uniform, not a single hair. Nothing. My uniform offered me perfect anonymity, and I appreciated it.

“Daystar, according to our reports, you spearheaded the initiative to remove Alpha from control of StrikeForce. Is this correct?”

The damn camera flashes began again, and I blinked spots away from my eyes.

“It was a team effort,” I said in a voice an octave or two lower than my usual voice. I hated speaking in public. I felt like every moment was a moment closer to someone seeing the real me, and I wanted to keep myself to myself. It probably seemed stupid, now that I had no one left to lose, but maybe that was it: my private life was the one thing I had left of my own.

“But it was your idea. Your plan,” Eve said.

“It was my idea,” I agreed, “But I couldn’t have pulled it off without the rest of StrikeForce helping me. It was a team effort,” I repeated.

“And he was removed from power because?” Eve asked.

“What, do you want a list? Or were you not listening earlier? He was keeping members of his own team collared and here by force. He locked me up and collared me, sent me out after villains like Maddoc and refused to undampen me so I could defend myself against them. He took his team mates’ blood and DNA and lied to them about where it was going, sending it to his friend Dr. Death instead—“

“Allegedly,” Eve put in loudly.

“Dr. Death, who was working all that tine for Killjoy,” I continued, repeating what Portia had said. It was the first time the Death/Killjoy connection had been made publicly, and the shock in the room had been palpable. The effect was much the same when I said it.