Veil of Justice, Shadows of Justice Book 3 (3 page)

He'd scratched in one mark when the first
food packet had arrived, assuming it was dinner. But another packet
filled with cold rice had been pushed inside before he was hungry
again. By the time the slit had opened for the third 'meal', he'd
been starving. It was impossible to know the time. There was no
schedule, no method or reason. It only compounded the dreadful
isolation.

The reflexive scream built and he couldn’t
stop it, the inhuman sound hurting his ears and scraping his throat
raw.

Another sudden short, cold spray from the
ceiling was followed by a completely new sound emanating from the
wall. Nathan ducked and curled into a ball, his only defense
against the unknown threat. The air crackled and an electrical
shock glanced off his arm. It burned his skin and his muscles
seized. He continued to rage with all he had until the powers that
dumped him here tired of trying to force him into silent
submission.

It was then that he heard her. Kelly. His
lifeline.

She was soft in his mind, a slow, sweet
descant calming his heart rate, easing the terror.

He grasped for her strength and let his mind
fall into the comfort she offered.

"Help me," he begged.

* * *

Kelly reeled, stumbling out of the altar
room, back into the labyrinth, bumping against walls on the way.
Nathan’s plea overwhelmed her senses. Her terrible grief couldn't
compare with his vivid despair. His fears and pain poured into her,
mixing with her own, and she struggled against the added guilt of
shutting him out. No one should be made to suffer like Nathan.

She could no longer rest in the rationale
that he had a sister more than willing to aid him. She'd assumed
Petra's many connections would help Nathan through this assignment,
even rescue him if necessary. Instead, inexplicably, Nathan had
reached out to her, back when she was Petra's assistant, since his
very first week behind bars.

She’d lied to her boss about the range and
depth of her contact with Nathan. Then again, she’d been lying to
everyone for years. It’s not like she had much choice. Revealing
her true identity to anyone outside of the family was strictly
forbidden. Keeping it from Nathan, a man capable of harvesting her
mind for any information, had been a significant challenge.

She hadn’t been foolish enough to believe
she’d done anything to keep him out of her private thoughts or her
secret life. That had been his courtesy and integrity. Using her
pedestrian meditative techniques to cut him off when she was forced
to return home had been her only way of ensuring her continued
privacy. She knew being home brought her memories, emotions, and
intentions too close to the surface for Nathan to politely ignore.
She would have to tread very carefully.

"Help me escape. I need out," he pleaded.

Escape? Nathan had a stellar reputation for
finishing what others wouldn’t start. What could possibly push him
to quit this job? He’d been doing great, considering his assignment
was to infiltrate a prison.

She filled her mind with soothing thoughts,
hoping to calm him enough to understand this drastic change.

The darkness of the cave shifted and closed
in on her and Kelly realized Nathan was sharing his world directly.
She hesitated, knowing his desperation added a risk to their link,
but she followed his lead. She couldn’t leave him like this.

The stench hit her first. The cloying
antiseptic didn’t quite mask the smell of fear and waste. Then the
wary tension of his every muscle triggered sympathetic cramps in
her body. She breathed deeply of the clean cave air, hoping the
connection would allow him to experience her world, letting him
have some small measure of relief.

Whether it was the air, or just her enjoyment
of it she didn’t know, but she felt him relax.

"I need out," he repeated, sounding more like
his normal, determined self.

"Are you done?" She didn’t know what the
mission was, just that he’d taken the rap for a murder he didn’t
commit in order to flush out another criminal.

"No."

He couldn’t possibly
want
her to
discourage him. He’d never walked away from a mission, not even on
those rare occasions when the plan had shattered around him.

"There’s no contact in here," he complained,
trying to draw her closer.

She resisted the pull of his words and his
mind. Making them both crazy wouldn’t help. She didn't reply,
hoping to discover more in the next words he chose.

"I can’t take it, Kelly."

"You can," she insisted. "You just have to
hang in there."

"No. The op’s offline. No contact inside or
out. Help me, Kelly. Help me escape."

She felt his anxiety cranking up again, but
she was full up with her own troubles. Any other time she’d rush to
his side, move heaven and earth to help him, but she didn’t even
know where he was incarcerated.

Just that fast the images came flooding in.
He'd pounced on her only weak spot and suddenly she knew
everything. Nathan showed her the prison's letterhead with the full
address and the warden’s name. A map burst into her mind next, the
city, the highway, the exit number. His inmate number and his
sketchy plan followed.

She gasped with the information overload,
with what he proposed, but it was doable. Her mind immediately
started sorting options and methods to deal with her personal
agenda and get Nathan out of hell’s horrible grasp.

"We can help each other," he pressed.

A chill tickled her spine. How much did he
know of her needs? Maybe he hadn't been as polite as she thought.
If he could help, it gave her a partner with serious potential. If
he recovered from this ordeal quickly enough.

If. If. The world was full of too many
ifs.

"I’ll be fine the minute I’m out of
here."

She sighed. Serena was moving the family to
safety. Their secret was isolated and, in reality, closer to
Nathan’s location than hers.

She was out of excuses and they both knew
it.

TWO

You cannot simultaneously prevent and prepare
for war. Albert Einstein

Dr. Leo Kristoff, former Midwest Regional
Health Chairman, watched Simon, his favorite surrogate son, through
the camera wired into the boy's quarters. The boy had served him
well these many years and while he wanted to lay the current
failure at Simon's feet, it wasn't really his fault.

Kristoff had unveiled research that made
manipulating life nearly as easy as manipulating truth, but he'd
underestimated the skill growth level of those lucky people he'd
created in his lab.

That single mistake was the source of this
setback and his simmering fury. He paced away from the monitors to
the windows overlooking Lake Michigan. His reflection on the glass
mocked him, challenged him to reason rather than reaction.

He could not blame Simon for the loss of more
than half of his private army. He could not blame Simon for the
glaring media exposure and harsh public censure. He could not even
blame Simon for bringing him a forgery.

All of Kristoff's recent troubles rested
squarely on the shoulders of one Petra Neiman Callahan and the
irritating vigilante sorts with whom she associated. She was one of
the brightest children he'd ever created in his lab. He'd had great
plans for her and her brother Nathan. Plans she'd somehow managed
to foil.

He still wasn’t sure how she'd led him to the
false prize. He'd followed research protocols and reliable
information, only to have his strike team bring him forgeries of
the priceless, ancient maps he needed.

The insult festered like an open wound.

Kristoff glanced back to the monitors,
watching Simon move through his fitness regime with automaton
efficiency. The boy was his only true ally now. Judge Albertson had
been dispatched months ago by Petra's friends, making Simon's
release from the justice system more expensive than necessary.

Small details were becoming serious obstacles
and he couldn't afford serious obstacles.

Years ago, he'd thrown science and logic to
the wind to barter with a goddess. Nin-Hur-Sag had promised
unprecedented knowledge, success, and longevity for the small price
of a few favors and eventually his soul – a soul he wasn't sure
existed. He'd gotten used to life at the top of every food chain,
but now it was crumbling. Payment was due. Though he held countless
patents and awards, his inestimable prestige had taken a beating,
the government had seized his assets, and his social network had
dried up.

He was in hiding for god's sake.

He bristled at the iniquity of it all, but he
knew if he didn't deliver those maps and their secrets, he faced a
very real eternity of incomprehensible horror. The goddess didn't
renegotiate.

It was far past time to regain the
initiative. Kristoff pressed a button near the monitor. "Simon,
report to me."

* * *

Kelly made her way back to the altar room,
through the dim passages her feet and heart remembered so well.
She'd never been troubled with claustrophobia because she imagined
the earth embracing her rather than smothering her. It was a trick
she'd picked up from her oldest brother. When the narrow channel
opened into the main cavern just before the altar room, she forced
herself to look beyond the signs of struggle and stains of death.
Time was a luxury she couldn't spend erasing the remnants of the
violence. Nathan needed her sooner rather than later.

She dropped to her knees, head bowed, palms
layered over her heart in the formal pose of supplication. This was
her only hope for gaining her father's blessing for the risk she
was about to take. A risk she would take for an outsider.

She wished she could sense her father's will,
the way he claimed to sense the will of God. He'd always been so
committed to the mission handed down from father to son since the
maps had been created. She prayed for an ounce of that dedication
to carry her into what was surely a flawed and doomed plan.

One woman against a high-security prison.

Once more her thoughts scattered and
stumbled. Too many ways to fail not just Nathan, but her family and
the world, as well.

She quieted her mind, meditating on what had
been, then picturing the best possible future. It was a balancing
act to open enough to restore her strength and still keep Nathan at
bay. Soon she had the image she wanted imbedded firmly in her mind:
The real maps safe in the ornate box, the detail work glowing under
soft candle light, and the lock secure.

She savored the sweet, freeing sensation of
mind lifting away from body, wishing she could remain in the bliss
forever. Exhaling, she let her hands drop and sat back on her
heels.

Father's blessing or no, she opened her eyes.
She committed the scene to memory. The bloody floor, the broken map
box, the tumbled books and candles, and the bits of aged parchment
trailing away like so many breadcrumbs.

"I'll make it right," she vowed to whatever
spirits might linger. Maybe the angels who watched over her
Guardian clans were listening. It'd be wonderful if they were also
preparing to assist her in the days ahead.

She'd been raised in a family who knew the
supernatural existed, both light and dark sides. She'd been taught
every nuance of faith and free will. She knew all the old stories
of heroes, both reluctant and bold, and she wondered which category
scholars would eventually lump her into. The answer most likely
depended on the outcome.

Kelly smiled a little. If she failed,
reluctant or bold wouldn't matter because the most precious and
powerful of God's relics would be in the wrong hands and no one
would care enough to study her exercise in futility. If she
succeeded, no one outside the family would ever know and she still
might be classed as reluctant, simply because she was a woman.

The age-old bias brought her to her feet. She
retreated without turning her back on the altar, until she was
seven paces away. Then she did a slow visual inventory of what the
intruders had left behind.

Swords, knives, and a cache of guns in the
near corner had gone untouched. She gathered a short sword in its
scabbard the compliment the dirk she kept strapped to her ankle.
Neither would be enough for a prison break, so she added her
favorite rifle and a 9mm pistol. As an afterthought, she took the
.357 and ammo for Nathan. Crossing to the opposite corner, she had
to crawl through a cramped access tunnel to reach a smaller storage
room.

She lit the room's torch, hoping for the
best. As the light grew, so did her hope. This room had escaped the
intruders' notice. And this room held an arsenal of alternative
weapons.

She didn't need a mirror to know the smile
creasing her face was eager – and lethal.

She would free Nathan and together they would
find whoever was hunting the maps. God's grace would have to
suffice if she failed. But she'd be sure God's vengeance visited
those she took with her in the attempt.

* * *

The cell door burst open. Sounds and light
and strong hands on his weak body assaulted Nathan's frayed senses.
There was relief in the human contact even with such rough
treatment. His eyes burned, tearing up against the full light of
the hallway as they dragged him from his dark cell. He shivered as
the recycled air pressed his damp clothing to his skin, chilling
him. Wherever Kelly had been, she’d reacted quickly, and he
wouldn’t complain about a little thing like wet clothes.

The guards didn’t shackle his wrists or
ankles, another courtesy Nathan assigned to Kelly’s influence and
implementation of their plan. He praised himself for cultivating
his connection to her during this assignment. She was turning into
a valuable asset.