The Nexus Series: Books 1-3 (43 page)

But the dream
wasn’t fully realized until Sketch had found him.  He never saw the real
Sketch, of course—hardly anyone ever had.  But through messengers, Sketch
asked Kim if he was done playing at petty crime and ready to bring about real
change in
Anterra
.

He sat up on his
cot, snapping out of his recollections as one of the cement cell walls began
grating open.  He drew the patch over his electronic eye.

The grating
stopped two seconds after it had begun.  One of the prison guards peeked
through the revealed crack in the corner of the room.  “Message for you,
Mr. Kim,” he said in his annoyingly nasal voice.

“Go ahead,” Kim
said impatiently.

“Mayor’s still
alive.”

Kim stood. 
“What did you say?”

“The attempt was
foiled.”

“By?”

“Nobody
knows—some people they’re calling the ‘Angel Guard,’ or something like that.”

“Really?” 
Kim smiled gravely at the memory of a man with steel-gray eyes...of a uniformed
girl with blue butterfly’s wings outspread over her dark visor.  “I see. 
Anything else?”

“One more
thing:  The Lioness is dead.”

The smile became
a frown.  “Dead?”

“We know who did
that one—someone called
Dragontail
.”

Kim
swallowed.  “Are you going to let me out today, Simmons?”

The guard
laughed.  “Sorry, not today.”

“I’ll make it
worth your while.”

“Money’s not the
problem.  You’d need quite a plan to get out of here.  Soon as your
people come to me with that plan, I’m in.”

The wall grated
closed before Kim could say anything else. 

6

DR.
Rivera pulled into the carport of his luxurious home at 9:45 p.m.  His
dark
brow
was knit dourly.

It hadn’t been
a bad shift, really—a fairly typical day in the life of a family doctor. 
But thanks to the centennial festivities, traffic had been ridiculous from the
moment he left the downtown hospital to the moment he turned into his
residential district near the satellite’s west rim.  Traffic always
irritated him.

Not that big of
a deal, he tried to convince himself as he stepped inside.  Things were
looking up.  The young and fit Doctor Rivera was the most eligible
bachelor at the hospital.  That redheaded nurse—what was her name?—still
seemed to have a thing for him.  He was admired by his colleagues.

And he still
hadn’t been accused of malpractice.  If it hadn’t happened yet, more than
two years after the incident, it probably wouldn’t ever happen at all. 
So, yes, things were looking up.

He stepped from
the carport into the house and his mood went south again.  The light
switch wasn’t working.

He heard a
shot.

Felt dizzy.

Hit the floor.

HE
heard himself yell as he regained consciousness.  There was a sudden
stabbing pain in his arm.

He was in his
bedroom, and the zigzag shaded lamp beside his vast round king bed was switched
on.    He lay on the matching zigzag comforter.  Someone
was kneeling next to him, a young blonde.  She’d just pumped the contents
of a syringe into his arm.  A gun was in her other hand.

“
Ow
!” he barked as she abruptly withdrew the needle.

“It’s a strong
dose,” she said, “to counteract the strong stunner I shot you with.”

He tried to sit
up, but a wave of dizziness and nausea dropped him back onto the
comforter.  He studied the girl looking down at him.  Her expression
was unreadable.

“Do I know
you?” he asked hoarsely.

“We’ve met,” she
replied evenly.  “My name is Amber Phoenix.  You knew my
father.  He was one of your patients.”

He didn’t
remember the name Phoenix.  But he now remembered all to clearly who this
girl was…who her father was.  “Why did you stun me?”

“Good
question.  I should have shot you with a nice old fashioned bullet, but
that would have made it harder for you to answer the questions I’m about to ask
you.”

He moaned and
looked away from her.

She grabbed him
by the ear and yanked until he was facing her again.  He was staring down
the muzzle of her gun.  “Or do I even need to ask?”

“Ask what?”

“About my
father.”

“I’m sorry, but
I can’t quite place—”

“Don’t pretend
you’re having trouble remembering him.”

He forced
himself to look confused.  “I’ve had a lot of patients over the
years.  Why would one in particular stand out in my—?”  Her gun
touched him between the eyes.  “Okay, okay, I’ll tell you what I know, I
swear!  Just back off a little, will you?  You’re making me too
nervous to think!”

She
hesitated...and took a step back.  She still glared darts at him, still
leveled her weapon.  “So?”

The doctor
sighed and sat up slightly in his bed.  Whatever she’d injected was doing
the trick.  He was starting to feel like himself again.  “I was coerced,
Miss Phoenix.”

“Getting
offered a lot of money isn’t the same thing as being coerced.”

“They
threatened me!”

“How terrible
for you.  Who were they?” she demanded.

“I don’t know,”
he said, returning her stare, “but I would suggest you stay away from them.” 
For the first time, he actually looked sincere.  “I know you want to know
the truth about your father, Miss Phoenix, but believe me when I tell you this
won’t end up well for you.  Just let it rest.”

“Do you really
expect me to do that?”

“It won’t bring
him back, will it?”  His eyes were almost pleading with her.  “These
are very dangerous people you’re up against.”

“That doesn’t
concern me.”

He sat up a
little straighter.  “No?” he asked.  “Well, I’m glad to hear it!”

His kick sent
her gun spinning across the bedroom and out the open door.  Her eyes were
wide with astonishment.  The next kick was to her gut, and she doubled
over.

The doctor
lunged out of bed and transitioned into another kick.

Now it was his
turn to look surprised.  With impressive skill the girl dodged, spun,
grabbed his outstretched leg, and leaped into a kick of her own.  He
recovered in time to absorb the kick, avoid a swing from her arm, and shove her
away.  She spun from the shove and faced him, poised silently.

They stared
each other down for several motionless seconds, a mixture of respect and
determination in their eyes.

“Well,” the
doctor said with a slight smile, “it seems we’re something of a fair match.”

She brushed a
blonde lock behind her ear.  “We’ll see.”

Frantic minutes
passed while the two showcased their martial arts skills against each other in
a battle that took them leaping and circling around the room.  Only minor
blows were delivered.  Neither slowed nor backed down in the least.

Eventually
their duel took them near the doorway where the gun lay harmlessly.  Amber
went for it.

His attack was
too fast.  She hit the floor and slid near the foot of the bed.  Now
he seemed to be flying through the air toward her.  She rolled over as,
with a cry, he landed where she’d been a split second before.  She
instinctively scrambled away from him, knowing it was futile, knowing he had
beaten her.

She heard a
shot.  Then she heard the doctor hit the floor beside her.  His
unconscious eyes stared at her from a slack jawed face.

She looked to
the bedroom doorway.

Corey Stone
lowered his smoking gun and removed his helmet.  “You all right?”

She narrowed
her eyes at him.  “You followed me!”

“Yeah, about
that—”

“
Cor
, this is none of your business!”

“I know.”

“I told you I’d
tell you when I was ready—
if
I was ever ready!”

“I didn’t come
for information, Amber.  I came to protect you.”

“I didn’t need
protection.”

“Of course you
did!” he retorted, gesturing at the fallen doctor.  “You said you made
some progress today.  I didn’t know what you’d discovered, but I knew it
was trouble.  I could see it in your eyes.  I know that look,
Amber.  It’s the same look I had in my own eyes when I went back to the
Society of Troubled Souls.  Thankfully, someone followed me there even
though it was none of her business.”

She remembered
Corey in a pool of light, a dagger upraised.

Now he was
turning to leave.  “If you question him anymore, tie him up this time,
will you?  Sometimes emotions get in the way of rationality.”

“My dad didn’t
die of cancer,” Amber blurted.

He halted.

“That was the
diagnosis—Dr. Rivera’s diagnosis,” she went on.  “And that’s what I told
you.  But I never really believed it.”

Corey stepped
back into the room.  “And now you found proof?”

“That’s where
I’ve been,” she said, “every free moment I’ve had for the past few months,
trying to dig up the truth.  I finally found a way to break into dad’s
medical records—the
original
records.  The diagnosis was death by
unknown toxic substance.”

“You think he
was murdered.”

“Why else would
the doctor lie to cover it up?”  Amber looked down at the unconscious
Rivera.  “I only met him once before.  It was the day he told me and
my mom that...”  She swallowed.  “The more I thought about it, the
more I realized it couldn’t be the truth.  Dad’s treatment had been
successful.  The cancer had been in remission for a while.  If it was
going to take his life, there would have been signs.”

“So you started
your own investigation.”

“It took me a
long time to track down Rivera.  I didn’t remember his name, and besides,
he’d had it deleted from any records associated with my dad.  Then he got
a legal name change and started working at another hospital.  It all
proved my suspicions that his diagnosis had been a fake.”

“That was your
‘progress’ today.  You finally found him.  Do you think he...?”

She shook her
head.  “He didn’t kill my dad.  But he knows who did.  Whoever
it was put the doctor up to his lie.”

Corey
stood.  “Do you have another one of those syringes?”

“I just brought
the one.  We’ll have to wait for him to come out of it on his own this
time.”

“We should
bring him back to HQ for questioning.”

“No.  This
is my own thing.  I don’t want to involve the department.”

“Okay, we’ll
keep it unofficial,” he said, sitting on the floor next to her.  “But that
doesn’t mean it has to be your own thing.”

“
Cor
, you don’t have to do this.  You heard what he was
saying before.  There are dangerous people mixed up in this thing.”

“It just so
happens that in my line of work I have a little experience with dangerous
people.”

“I never meant
to get you involved.”

“You didn’t get
me involved, remember?  I don’t recall you inviting me here with you.”

“True, but—”

“And now that
I’m here you can’t make me leave, so don’t bother trying.”

She opened her mouth...then
closed it and let the relief wash over her.  “Okay.  I won’t.”

“I
didn’t want to hurt you,” Dr. Rivera muttered.  “I only wanted
to save your life.  That’s exactly what I’d be doing if I stopped you from
continuing your search.”  He was back in the bed—thoroughly bound, this
time.

“We’re not
interested in your warnings, Doctor,” Corey said, voice distorted by his visor,
“only in your answers.”

Rivera looked
questioningly at Amber, as if hoping she’d contradict her friend in the mask
with the silver skull.

“We’re
waiting,” she said.

Rivera
sighed.  “On your own head be it, then.  Your father’s cancer was
still in remission.  His death was caused by a poison that was almost
certainly injected into his bloodstream with the intent of ending his life. 
My orders to falsify the diagnosis came from a man I’d never met before.”

“What did he
look like?” Corey’s mechanical voice demanded.

“He was fair
skinned, very tall and muscular, and spoke with an accent—Russian,
perhaps.  And...”

“And?” Amber
prompted impatiently.

Rivera
hesitated.  “And what I could see of his skin—hands, forearms, even his
neck—was thoroughly tattooed.”

“Describe his
tattoos.”

“Spider webs,
Miss Phoenix.  It looked like the man was covered with black spider
webs.” 

7

COREY
walked Amber to her car down the street from Rivera’s place.  “You once
told me...” he started to say, letting his words trail off.  He didn’t
want to go there.  It had been a while since she said it, and it had
obviously been difficult at the time.  She was a very private person, and
he’d invaded enough of her privacy tonight.

“My dad was
involved in smuggling,” she finished for him, “and yes, I was involved too.”

“Listen, Amber,
I don’t want to bring up a sore subject.”

“Don’t worry, I
shouldn’t be so sensitive about it.  Especially with you.  After all,
it’s not like you have a squeaky clean record yourself.”  The moment she
said it she put a hand over her face.

He
chuckled.  “Speaking of being sensitive...”

“Oh my gosh,
Cor
, I’m so sorry!  I just meant—”

“I know what
you meant.  And you’re absolutely right.  Forget about it.”

“You were just
going to say maybe my dad’s smuggling mixed him up in something that eventually
got him killed.”

“I don’t suppose
you two ever did a job for someone tattooed with spider webs?”

She shook her
head.  “I can’t remember any job we took that would have put him in danger
like that.  We took small jobs.  Some jail time is the worst that
would have happened if he was caught.  As far as I knew, anyway.”

They reached
her car.  Corey’s was parked just behind it.  He opened her door for
her.  “See you back at HQ.”

“Thanks,
Cor.  For everything.”

“Don’t mention
it.  Keep me posted.”

“I will,
although I’m not even sure what to do next.”

“Someone else
might know.”

“You know some
people who could help?”

“
We
know
some people who could help—the best.  You happen to live down the hall
from them.”

Amber looked at
the ground.  “I don’t want my friends to have to be involved in my issues.”

“One thing I’ve
learned since joining the department:  Your issues are what you need your
friends for most of all.”

THE
dorm lounge down the hall from HQ was empty when Amber got
there.  No one chatting around the tables.  No one catching a midnight
snack in the kitchen loft.  No one watching the TV news broadcast
speculating about the “Guardian Angels” who had saved the mayor’s life.

Her eyes drifted
up to the rows of balconies that overlooked the lounge floor from the high
walls on either side.  The rooms behind those glass doors were home to the
young men and women the director had recruited for the department.  Most
of them would be in jail or worse if Holiday hadn’t gotten hold of them.

Including Amber.

She heaved a
sigh.  Her coworkers didn’t realize just how well she fit in here...that
she had a past not unlike theirs.  It was true, what she’d told Corey; she
didn’t want to hurt the people she cared about by getting them mixed up in her
own problems.    But maybe there was a bigger reason for her
silence.

Maybe what she
feared most of all was her own shame.

The shades were
drawn across every balcony door on the girls’ side and guys’ side of the dorm,
driving home the feeling of loneliness.  Her eyes went to the glass door
of her own room.  The next room down was
Dizzie’s
,
and the one after that was Jill’s.

Amber grit her
teeth and ducked into the stairwell that angled up toward the girl’s dorm
hall.  Before she knew it, she’d invited Jill and
Dizzie
into her room, and the words were coming out of her mouth.  It wasn’t so
hard once she got going.

“I
thought your dad worked for the department,” Jill said once Amber had finished
her story.

“He didn’t work
here, exactly,” Amber answered, “but The Nexus hired him for a temporary role
that had something to do with their computer system.  He was a programmer
first, a smuggler second.”

“We’re
gonna
find that man with the spider webs,” said
Dizzie
, balling her hand into a determined fist.  “The
department search engines have access to a lot of classified databases. 
We’ll plug in his description and see where that takes us.  I’ll get
started first thing in the morning.”

“I’ll be there
to help however I can,” said Jill. 
Dizzie
was
the expert digger, but Jill wasn’t too bad with a shovel herself.  “And
I’ll bring breakfast,” she added.

“Coffee?”
Dizzie
prompted.

“As strong as I
can brew it,” Jill confirmed.

“Excellent!”
Dizzie
beamed.  “Nothing like some serious caffeine to
put you on your A-game.”

Amber’s
expression was uncertain as she listened to the other two girls. 
“Listen,” she said hesitantly, “it’s really nice of you to help, but tomorrow’s
your morning off.”

“Which frees us
up to track down your father’s killer,”
Dizzie
insisted.  “And let’s not forget that you’re a first rate snoop yourself,
Amber.  Be at my cubicle by seven, and we’ll get this party started.”

JILL
woke up before 5:30.  She remembered having troubled dreams but didn’t
remember what they were.  There was no point in trying to sleep any more.

It wasn’t yet six
o’clock when she made her way along the HQ overlook to the department
cafeteria.  The rows of tables and chairs sat in darkness, but a line of
light showed around the swinging door to the kitchen.  She walked toward
it.  Sounds came from behind the door as well, a woman’s voice booming
orders.  “As long as you’re standing there, at least hold out your arms so
we can hang some towels on you or something, will you?”

Jill peeked
through the swinging door.  In the middle of the mayhem of breakfast
preparations stood Ginny, the head cook, towel over her shoulder and hands on
her hips.   “Are we only frying one side of our pancakes this
morning,” she continued her tirade, “or are you planning on flipping them at
some point?”

A snicker from
Jill brought Ginny’s head around.  A gleaming white smile appeared in her
beautiful dark face.  “Well, well, Miss Jillian Branch!  Don’t
suppose you want to transfer, do you?  We could use someone useful back
here!”

The workers in
the kitchen stifled laughs of their own at their beloved boss’s exaggerated
criticism.

“I’ll think about
it, Momma Ginny,” said Jill.  The head cook insisted on being called Momma
by the young members of the department.  Many of them, Jill included, had
no mothers of their own.  “In the meantime, do you happen to have an extra
coffee maker somewhere back here?”

Ginny clapped her
hands together.  “There, what’d I tell you?  I knew I’d get you
hooked sooner or later.”

“It’s actually
for
Dizzie
.”

The head cook’s
smile reversed.  “Speaking of hooked...”

“She’s not
hooked; she’s obsessed,” amended Jill.

“Burned out
another one, has she?”

“Her latest
coffee maker bit the dust two days ago.”

“Two days! 
How has she survived since then?”

“Hourly trips to
the staff lounge, I guess.”

“Well, I hate to
support a habit.  But then, it’s my own habit, too, so I understand. 
Follow me and we’ll see what we can do.”

Jill savored the
smell of breakfast as she followed the motherly cook through the busy kitchen
to the storerooms.

“Now,” Ginny said
when they were alone, “what else do you need, Jillian?”

“What else?”

“You didn’t just
come to fetch a coffee pot.”

“I didn’t?”

“I can tell when
you’re here to have a talk, even if you can’t tell yourself.  Something’s
bothering you, honey, now what can I do to help?”

“I’m okay,
Momma.”

“Don’t play games
with me, girl, just tell me what’s going on.”

“Well...there is
a little something, I guess.”

“Of course there
is!”

And she told
Ginny about Riley’s taking her for questioning during the mission, the
Lioness’s death, and Bradley’s comments.

“After all this
time,” the cook said when Jill had finished, “you don’t really let that little
scoundrel’s comments bother you, do you?”

“I know I
shouldn’t.  But it seemed like we were doing better, you know? 
Bradley’s actually treated me okay lately—until last night, anyway.”

“You know what
you need to do?” Ginny asked with a mischievous smile.

“Punch him in the
teeth?”

The cook shook
her head.  “Leave that to me.  I’m talking about something even
better.  You need to be really, really, ridiculously
nice
to him.”

“You’re serious?”

“Think about
it.  Nothing will heap the guilt on him like you going out of your way to
be kind to him.”

“Don’t you think
he’ll know I’m faking it just to get to him?”

Momma Ginny
shrugged.  “So don’t fake it.”

Jill
grimaced.  “I don’t know if I have it in me.”

“You will. 
You just watch.  Sooner or later, the right moment will come.  You’ll
be able to do something for him that’ll change things.”

“I’m not holding
my breath.”

Ginny put her
hands on her hips.  “Have I ever steered you wrong before?”

Jill had to admit
she hadn’t.