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Authors: Nicola Claire

Masked (6 page)

BOOK: Masked
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Damn, but she was gorgeous.

"Lena," he said, lifting an arm out towards her. I almost felt sorry for him. None of us had wanted the job. No one had. So he'd stepped up. It wasn't exactly a coveted position; the last three leaders of our nation had been assassinated. Gunned down by those people Lena had just so bravely stood up for, and one even by Lee Fucking Tan himself.

He'd known what he was doing, he just hadn't known what he was getting into.

It was hard not to smile at his fucking bad luck.

Lena was out the door before Tan could say more, though. And we'd made it as far as the comfy couches and brass potted plants, when he finally caught up to us.

"You have resources," he began, and I had the feeling we were finally getting somewhere. "Resources that can fly under the radar, unlike us," he added in a whisper.

"What do you want, Tan?" I demanded, holding on fiercely to Lena's hand - I might never let it go again - and staring him down. I'd make him grovel for putting her through that. I'd make him eat cut glass for what he'd said.

But I didn't get the chance.

With an ear-splitting shriek, a wail started up, reverberating off the pillars, rebounding around inside the high ceilinged domes. A siren designed to discombobulate and confuse. It was working. In seconds we were surrounded, but
not
because we were the threat. Cardinals bracketed Tan, but as we were all standing together, they included us in the make-shift shield.

"To the safe-room!” one yelled. Laser guns whirring, booted feet stomping, as they herded us towards some reinforced bunker at a guess.

"Status!" Tan ordered no one in particular and everyone all at once.

For a long while nothing was said, then a Cardinal at the front, leading the way courageously, wearing the gold piping on his shoulder that indicated seniority, spoke up.

"The Sky Tower has fallen."

Five words. Five simple words. And they changed everything.

Nine
My Zebra
Trent

T
he bunker had
two foot thick concrete walls. A low ceiling. And enough provisions to last twenty people two weeks.

There were exactly seven of us in here. Four rebels, one interim President, the Cardinal with the piping on his shoulders and Tan's trigger happy side-kick. The laser gun was whirring gratingly in his steady hands.

I walked directly to a phone on the wall and dialled Si. Without earpieces, we were cut off from base and back-up. Not that Tan's Cardinals weren't impressive. But...

"The line's dead," I said with disgust. How hard was it to isolate a land line from the repeaters that would have been atop the Sky Tower?

Tan crossed to a vid-screen mounted on the wall and activated it. Static. The Cardinal with piping attempted to communicate through a device attached to his arm. Suspiciously close to where the e-scanners used to reside. I saw Lena shudder when she watched him try to use it.

"Nothing, sir," he finally advised. "The Sky Tower is our main relay."

"And you guys didn't think putting all your eggs into one basket could be a bit short-sighted?" I demanded.

The Cardinal shrugged his shoulders. "Who would have believed the Sky Tower could fall?"

"A rebel," I replied, moving closer to Lena and catching her eye. Tan had been mute since arriving here. His face pale, his lips pinched. For the man supposedly leading our country, I'd expected a little more "leading" to transpire.

She nodded her head and walked over to where Tan was standing, staring at the static on the vid-screen.

"We have to know what's happening out there, Tan,” she said carefully.

"We can't leave the bunker," came his stilted reply.

"Since when has four walls and a ceiling ever stopped you?"

He turned toward her, just staring, not saying anything, as though trapped in more than just a concrete room.

"This is not you," she whispered. But we could all hear her; the room wasn't exactly large.

He let a slow breath of air out and ran a frustrated hand through thick hair.

"A country needs a leader," he explained.

"And you believe you're the only one capable of filling those shoes," she guessed.

"Not at all." His answer was decisive; Tan was a Citizen through and through. "I didn't want this. No one did. That's the point."

I reluctantly admitted he was right. When Shiloh went dark and the Overseers fell, chaos reigned. And not just on the streets with the sudden freedom we'd gained; which the nation quite clearly hadn't known what to do with. Nor the fact that decisions were suddenly ours to make. And Serenity Tabs were no longer mandatory. Or our doctrine was now proven false.

We'd needed a leader. And that leader had been Tan.

"Then lead," I said from across the room.

Both Lena and Tan turned towards me. Lena rolled her eyes, clearly less than impressed with my tactics. Tan just glared.

But it did what it was supposed to do.

"Open the door, Cardinal," he instructed.

"President Tan," the laser wielding git started.

"I said open it, Cardinal. We're blind in here."

"But safe," the senior Cardinal offered, moving to the door with his own laser gun out. "Allow us to check the way first, sir."

Tan nodded his head, then settled disturbed eyes on me.

"How secure is your penthouse?"

Now, hold on a minute.

"Secure," Lena told him. "And able to function off alternate repeaters."

I turned a stunned look on her. My arms already crossed defensively over my chest.

"Lena," I warned.

White hair whirled as she faced me; eyes bright, a light flush to her cheeks, full of fire and life and beauty.

I felt the rush of air as it left my lungs.

"What are we fighting for, Trent?
Who
are we fighting for?"

"Wánměi." I felt the word resonate within my soul.
Everything
was for Wánměi.

Lena nodded her head and turned to Tan.

"You are welcome in our home, President Tan."
Oh, Lena.

I ran a hand over my face and turned to Paul. "You stick to him like glue," I demanded, my words clipped, quiet, right by his ear. If Tan heard, he didn't show it. Nor did the Cardinals who had returned from checking that the way was clear. "Armoury, our apartment, both are off limits. Understood."

"Yes," Paul replied, showing me with one look that he clearly understood. Tan must never see our resources or Shiloh mark II.

Calvin. We were going to have to activate Calvin. Si could do a lot from his tech-room, but this had escalated to something more than a national crisis. Two high profile targets in less than one day.

We were at war. But with who?

"We've got a car and a contingency of guards at the ready, President Tan," the senior Cardinal advised.

"Enough for all of us?" Tan enquired, walking towards the door.

The Cardinal glanced at me and my rebels, no emotion showing on his face, and said, "Yes, sir."

"You'll only need space for one of us," I advised.

Tan spun on his heel. "One of you?" His eyes darted to Lena.

I scowled.
No, you're not getting Lena, too.

"Paul will accompany you to the penthouse and assist with any requests you have," I advised, stressing the word "assist." If he didn't get the meaning, he was slower than I'd thought.

But this was Lee Fucking Tan we were talking about.

"I see," he said, his eyes holding mine. "And you and Lena?" He didn't bother to mention Alan. As far as Tan was concerned, Alan was my shadow. We came as a unit. A pain in his arse unit.

"We're going to see what the fuck's happening out there," I replied.

Tan turned to Lena, his mouth open to speak.

"President Tan," the Cardinal in charge said. "We need to move now."

"I'll be fine," Lena told him, making my jaw ache. Again. "Coordinate through Si. We'll be your eyes on the ground."

"We've got Cardinals for that," Tan argued, allowing his guards to usher him out.

In the hall were half a dozen more, laser guns lit up, the electronic whine competing with the cacophony of noise we could hear out on the street. Otherwise, Parliament House was silent.

Lena shook her head, halting in her tracks. It took several steps for Tan to realise she wasn't right behind him. He struggled with his guards for a second, before they realised they were wrestling their precious President, and then looked over his shoulder at us.

"Elite," he said, knowing damn well how that moniker affected her coming from him.

"We need our gear from the security station at the front," she explained, moving off without a backwards glance.

"There's only one available exit," one of the Cardinals shouted at our backs. "All the rest are locked down!"

"We'll find it!" Lena shouted back, already breaking into a run.

I nodded towards Paul, one last instruction conveyed through our eyes alone.
Take care.
Take care of yourself. Of the penthouse. Of our secrets.

He nodded back, and then they were lost as we tore around the corner of the grand hall and skidded to a stop next to the security desk.

A lone Cardinal stood on the other side of a glass divide. Face stoic, laser gun resting across his arms; a blatant challenge.

"We need our gear!" I called through the thick partition.

He simply shook his head.

"President Tan has sent us," Lena tried. The Cardinal laughed. It was short lived.

"Just give us our earpieces," Alan yelled. He was right. Without Si, we'd be blind.

"Not happening," the Cardinal advised, his deep voice reaching through the thick glass easily at the same time as a the whir of electronics sounded out overhead. Followed by a distinctive whine.

All three of us stepped back, our gazes drawn to a laser gun muzzle now directed at us through a purpose built hole in the wall.

I slowly raised my hands as we continued to back up.

"We're going," I said, not raising my voice. He could hear. The glass was soundproofed. Bulletproofed. Laser-proofed. There'd be a mic that carried our words, just like there were speakers that had conveyed his earlier ones.

He didn't move a muscle as we turned on our tail and ran back along the corridor to where we'd left Tan. The President's car and entourage had disappeared by the time we found the exit, guarded, but this time word of our impending arrival had preceded us. And egress was offered without the use of a fucking laser gun.

We were unarmed. Cut off from Si. And in amongst the chaos of a war-torn Wánměi.

"What now?" Alan demanded, frustration making his words come out as a growl.

My eyes naturally found the distant smoke and dust clouds of the fallen Sky Tower, above the tall buildings that danced in shadows all around us. My heart beat frenetically, sweat already beading my brow. I glanced toward Lena. No longer quite pristine in her linen dress, but that fire I'd seen earlier was burning out of control in her eyes.

"Are we rebels? Or are we rebels?" I asked them, my gaze locked on Lena and no one else.

"Rebels," they both said in unison. Lena's lips spread into a mischievous smile.

No matter what, she was with me. No matter what, she'd always walk by my side.

I've had people obey my orders before. I've had many fall over themselves to do what I wanted whenever I desired. Not quite sycophants, but loyal followers. Rebels who understood I was in command. But not one of them mattered, the way Lena mattered. Not one of them meant as much to me as this Elite.

No matter what, Lena was mine.

And I was so fucking hers as well.

"We grab what we can on the way to use as weapons," I instructed, taking hold of Lena's hand in mine and starting to jog towards the war zone. "Look out for Masked," I instructed. "Confront them if you can, but the main goal is saving lives."

We needed to know who these fuckers were. We needed to find out why they were doing this. But none of that was as important as saving Wánměi lives.

"And if we catch one?" Alan asked, ever the optimist.

I smiled.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves, Citizen," Lena drawled at my side.

"What, you think you can't do it, Elite?" he shot back.

"Oh, I'm pretty sure there's more to them than you realise."

"And you've got them all sussed out, then?" he pushed.

"I've been waiting for you to meet your match, Alan," was all she said in reply.

He snorted. "'Bout time, 'cause there sure as hell hasn't been anyone else up to my standard."

My smiled spread the closer we got to ground zero.

"Care to place a bet?" she offered with Elite sweetness.

"Honourable," he drawled back. "You're on."

And then we were there. And all thought of laughter and camaraderie and wagers and arguments were lost. In amongst chaos and shock and utter, utter devastation.

The Pherres had been bad. The Sky Tower was the equal to an atomic bomb going off. People staggered around wounded, blood pouring down their faces, dust coating their ripped and torn skin. Burns glistened in the heat surging out from the rubble. Screams and calls for loved ones went unanswered. Gas pipes burst, sending blue-red flames up into the sky. Buildings lay crushed, concrete pulverised into an acrid dust. Cars were flattened to no more than a few inches. A hand or a leg or a shoe sticking out from beneath them.

The sound all around us was the roar of a dying tiger.

We can't fight this.

And then Lena was helping someone. And Alan was climbing over rubble, digging with his bare hands. And I fell into the role of organiser, shouting directions for people to follow, giving them something to focus on, other than their desperate plight. Other than death.

I didn't think about the Masked, but I saw them. Doing the same as us, but in greater numbers.

I didn't think about what Si and Tan were doing back at the base. Or about Calvin possibly being discovered by Wánměi's new President and his Cardinals.

I didn't think, but to offer direction. To help those who needed the help.

Hours passed. Days it felt like. Someone brought water to drink. A wet cloth to wash our faces. Even the odd bit of food to keep us going. But there was no stopping. No pause for breath. The sun sank. The stars came out. But we kept going.

Kept helping, until there was no one left to help.

I stretched my back and aching shoulders, dusted my blood stained hands off on my pants.

My eyes searching for Lena.

She had her arm around an old Wáikěinese man, offering him a bottle of fresh water, speaking softly to him as she held him while he cried.

She was the last thing I saw. This miraculous Elite, in a shredded linen dress, white hair streaked with dust that had turned black.

My zebra.

I smiled to myself and then turned to a sound at my back.

And everything went dark.

BOOK: Masked
12.53Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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