ONE
I strangled the rage threatening to escape as I realized I was no longer in the back of a TacOps van on my way to a permanent stay in Sheol.
I never made it to Sheol.
“That was a bit dramatic,” I said, taking a few breaths, gathering my wits about me. “You had to do it while I was in transit?”
I was deep underground somewhere.
The transition threw me.
One moment, I was surrounded by angry Division 13 agents, in the back of a TacOps van with kagome cuffs on my wrists; the next, I was in some underground base, staring at one of the most powerful women on the planet.
I looked at Grace, the leader of the Transporters.
She was wearing what I considered business casual. A black dragonscale suit, covered with enough runes to stop a small scale attack all on its own.
Her salt and pepper hair was cut short, barely reaching her shoulders and framed her face, softening her hard expression. She fixed me in place with her gaze, her dark eyes looking through me.
She did nothing to hide the scar that ran down one side of her face—an angry slash that started just under one eye and ended at her jaw.
I seriously doubted that the author of that mark still lived.
“You killed her,” Grace said once I got my bearings. “Luca.”
It wasn’t a question.
“Where exactly am I?” I asked, looking around the open space and rubbing my recently cuffed wrists. “What is this place?”
“Irrelevant. Yes or no?” she continued. “It’s not a rhetorical question, Operative Ronin.”
We were using titles now.
That meant she was not in the best of moods.
It would be unwise to piss Grace off, considering how powerful she was. I mentally reached for my techbrace and found it…disabled.
“You disabled my—?”
She must’ve read my expression of surprise as she nodded.
“Yes, your techbrace would present a vulnerability to our present location,” she said. “A vulnerability I cannot afford. Answer the question.”
I noticed my weapons were missing too.
“It’s complicated,” I said, trying to deflect. “Where are my weapons?”
“Upstairs,” she said. “Simplify it for me.”
“I needed to convince Tigris…Delilah,” I said, as the words fell out of my mouth like stones, reminding me of how phenomenally screwed my life was currently. “That meant I needed to—”
“Kill Luca?” Grace asked. “That was the condition?”
“Yes.”
“A steep price of admission.”
“Not much of a choice,” I said. “It was either that, or be next on the recently deceased operative list.”
She shook her head slowly.
“I do hope you are a better operative than assassin,” she said after a brief pause. “It seems you missed…at point blank range. How did you manage that?”
I returned her gaze, trying and failing to match her intensity.
“I possess incredible amounts of skill.”
“I have no doubt,” she said. “The question is—can you utilize it on your next mission…or die trying?”
Several thoughts raced through my mind at that moment: I was in one of Grace’s underground lairs, which meant my exit was cut off. In fact, I didn’t even know where I was. Grace was considerably stronger than I was and wielding powers I could barely understand. There was no way I could face her in a fight…and win.
Also, she knew Luca was alive.
It was better to come clean on this one. The last thing I needed was an instant trip anywhere—which she was capable of executing with a thought.
“You know?” I asked. “How?”
Grace glared at me.
“I am the leader of the transporters, Ronin,” she said with a sort sigh. “Of course I know, it’s my business to know what’s hidden in the shadows. It’s what makes my people so effective and so dangerous.”
“That, and the whole instant painful teleports everywhere.”
She narrowed her gaze at me.
“Are you still suffering from teleportation sickness?”
“Not my favorite mode of travel, no.”
“If you like, to help you adjust, I could teleport you in several directions at once,” she offered. “That should be pleasantly excruciating.”
Pleasantly excruciating. It was comments like these that kept me away from dealing with Transporters most of the time.
“No, thank you,” I said, holding up a hand. “Pass on the multi-directional porting.”
She glanced over her shoulder at the young woman standing off to one side and motioned for her to come closer.
“Are you prepared to escort my transporter?”
“I don’t people Grace, you know this,” I said. “It’s why I wear a techbrace.”
“A techbrace is not a person, Ronin.”
“My point exactly.”
“This will be good for you,” she replied. “It will help you socialize.”
“Never been good at that either.”
“Besides, this is your on—your duty and obligation.”
“That much I can understand,” I said with a small sigh. “Do I have a choice?”
“You always have a choice, Ronin,” she said. “We choose our paths with the understanding that every choice leads to particular outcomes. For example, you could choose to refuse my mission.”
“I could?” I asked, incredulously. “I thought I didn’t—”
“Which would result in finding yourself teleported to Division 13 Headquarters shortly after your choice,” she added. “I’m certain they would like a word or two with a recently escaped rogue operative wanted for murder.”
“What’s behind door number two?”
“You fulfill your end of our agreement.”
“By escorting your transporter to her post?”
“Precisely,” she said. “You are wiser than your actions indicate.”
“Well, I was in the middle of being taken to Sheol where I would spend the rest of my days in the deepest pits of darkness to contemplate my pitiful life…you know—what we Division 13 operatives call vacation.”
“Division 13?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “I thought you were rogue?”
“I’m mostly rogue.”
“Is that why you killed Luca?”
I remained silent for a few beats.
“We both know that didn’t happen,” I said, holding her gaze. “It was an—”
“Elaborate ruse, so I hear,” she finished, passing me what looked like a wireless USB receiver for a mouse. “This is yours.”
“What’s this?”
“That…is from your recently deceased Assistant Director,” she said. “However, this task takes precedence.” She gestured at the young woman. “Your mission.”
I looked around Grace, to the woman standing slightly behind her. She looked young, almost too young, but even from where I stood, I could sense her energy signature.
She was dressed in a black pantsuit that was almost certainly dragonscale. Her short black hair covered part of her face. Her slim frame looked like she spent most of her days in the gym and she looked strong. From the way she carried herself, I could tell she knew a thing or two about fighting.
“My mission,” I said with a nod. “Of course, where to?”
“I need to establish a transporter into a null zone.”
I could tell already, this was just going to be never-ending hilarity and joy.
“Into a null zone, not through one?”
“Into a null zone. This requires one of the strongest among us.”
I looked at the woman again.
“Her?” I said, incredulous. “She’s one of the strongest among your people?”
“Appearances, as you are aware, can be deceiving,” Grace said with a nod. “After me, she is the strongest of the transporters.”
“Why isn’t she dressed in the usual ten layers, showcasing the classic ‘homeless transporter’ look?”
“That disguise isn’t needed where you’re going.”
Somehow those words didn’t fill me with comfort.
“Where exactly is that?”
“Beneath Sheol exists a low access interplanar retreat,” Grace said. “It needs a lead transporter to operate at full capacity.”
I heard the words.
The sounds were familiar, but my brain was having trouble comprehending them— especially the Sheol part.
“I’m sorry,” I said with a short chuckle. “That sounded like you said Sheol. I’ve been actively trying to avoid that place, and now it sounds like you want me to go there of my own volition.”
“I didn’t say Sheol. I said, beneath Sheol,” Grace corrected. “She will facilitate the transport of some of the more notable residents of the prison when needed, in addition to establishing a transporter hub at the same location.”
“Do the authorities at Sheol know about this?” I asked warily. “Division 13?”
Grace narrowed her eyes at me and gave me an ‘I will eviscerate you’ smile.
I backed off.
“This is classified transporter business,” she explained. “Since you no longer have business with either of those entities, this should be an easy job for you.”
“I think we have different definitions of ‘easy’,” I said, shaking my head. “You’re telling me there’s a transporter station under Sheol and what do I…I mean we, what do we do? Just walk into Sheol and take the stairs to the sub-basement?”
“It will be considerably harder than that.”
“No shit, really?”
“The existing low access interplanar retreat has been sealed off by Division 13 for some time now,” she explained. “It requires an Upper Echelon operative to unseal it. Someone designated above 010. That entrance is not on Randall’s Island.”
“Of course it isn’t,” I said. “Why would I expect it to be easy or accessible?”
“Division 13 felt the need to close off this particular access point,” Grace said. “I am re-opening it.”
Shit. Talk about having my words come back to bite me in the ass. She had been planning this for years with me in mind.
“If I’ve been designated rogue, my clearance won’t work, even if I was above 010,” I said. “They would’ve frozen me out of the system.”
“Not this particular system,” she said. “This would need a physical scrubbing and I doubt anyone would go through the trouble of removing you from the system, beneath Sheol. They would hardly send Reese to remove you from an outdated and sealed location.”
She was well informed as I expected.
“You’re counting on it.”
“I am taking a calculated risk,” she answered. “Anyone else with the technical expertise is currently in my employ.”
“But they don’t have the access.”
“Correct, and you do.”
She was several steps ahead of me on this.
I glanced at the young woman again.
She gave me a look of veiled defiance and something else…fear mixed with anger. It was one of the reasons I didn’t work with partners. I didn’t do drama or people well.
It wasn’t them, not usually.
It was mostly me.
“What’s her name?” I said with a sigh of resignation. “I should at least know the name of the person who’s going to see me die.”
“Don’t be so pessimistic,” Grace said. “I have every confidence in your abilities.”
“That makes one of us.”
“Her name is Taro.”
“Like the divination cards?”
“Like the root,” Grace answered, glancing sideways at the woman. “Potentially toxic unless handled correctly.”
“Is she a fortune-teller? Because I can tell you right now, my future is looking bleak.”
“She is first and foremost a transporter who will obey the assignment given to her,” Grace said. “Despite the possession of secondary abilities.”
Something else was going on here.
Secondary abilities?
This assignment sounded like punishment. At the very least, it was a shit detail—stuck underneath the largest null zone in the city.
“What did she do?”
Grace turned fully to Taro and fixed her with a stare that could’ve frozen some of the lower levels of hell. Whatever it was Taro did, it seemed like this was a merciful option of dealing with it, according to Grace.
If Taro got off with being sent to the depths of Sheol as mercy, I’d hate to see the merciless option.
“I’ll let her share that with you, if she so chooses,” Grace said, her voice slicing through the air like razor. “Your mission ends when she is safely delivered to the transporter station, not a second before.”
“All I have to do is deliver her to her new post?” I said. “Nothing else?”
“Alive would be preferable,” Grace answered. “Do you think you can manage that?”
“I can do alive,” I said. “Unharmed may be a different story. Sheol is not the best of neighborhoods on the worst day. We will run into some nastiness.”
“Taro can take care of herself.”
“Then why exactly do you need me?”
Yes, it was a risky question, especially knowing Grace’s intolerance for insubordination. I figured the question would nag at me until this op was over. I would hate to check out early and never know why.
Grace turned slowly to face me.
“You are escorting her, because you gave your word,” Grace said, the menace evident in her words. “You required a service and I provided an exit for you. You owe a debt, and it has come due. Do you feel you are being unfairly burdened?”
“Not in the least,” I said, raising a hand in surrender. “Just not used to working with partners, that’s all.”
“She is not a partner, she is a client,” Grace said. “A client that needs to be escorted to her new post. Nothing more, nothing less.”
I gave the young woman a other glance.
There was no way this was some ordinary transporter, even as powerful as she was. This Taro had pissed off Grace and was now being banished to the outer darkness.
“Who is she…to you?”
“Someone who used her ability, her power, inappropriately and is now paying the price for her actions.”
“Chronomancy is not dark magic,” Taro said, her voice firm. “You fear what you don’t understand.”
The voice was a dead giveaway. If I closed my eyes, I could swear I was listening to a younger version of Grace. They were related somehow.
“Chronomancy?” I said, figuring this was the secondary ability. “She’s a—?”
“Transporter, nothing more,” Grace replied, her voice steel. “That is the only skill she will use at her new station. Is that understood?”
The menace in the air had increased a few notches into imminent destruction territory.
“Taro?” Grace said, her voice low, but dangerous. “Do you understand?”
“Completely,” Taro replied, the steel in her voice matching Grace’s. “It’s completely clear.”
“Good,” Grace answered, ignoring the tone. “Ronin, make sure she reaches her destination, and this clears your debt to me.”
“You still haven’t told me who she was, just what she did…vaguely.”
Grace fixed me with a look that almost made me reconsider asking. It was a look of anger, pain, and sadness.
“Taro is my daughter.”
“Well, shit.”
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