Cardinal, (Citizen Saga, Book 2) Read online

  I spun at the last minute, so my face would be toward the tower's wall. Instinct having me approach this as an abseiling exercise, when it was nothing of the sort. My eyes met the rounded and shocked ones of Wang Chao, as I hung momentarily in mid air, and as he sprinted across the bedroom I'd just been in and reached out for me across the glass balustrade.

  He'd ignored Trent, whom he might have been able to reach. Choosing instead to lean out in a futile attempt to catch me. It said a lot about the man. A lot I didn't care to interpret in that moment.

  And then I went hurtling down.

  And I couldn't interpret anything but the sheer agony of being torn in half. I screamed as my body hit the wall of the tower with a loud crack. Blood spurted from my nose and ran down my chin. My head rang, my vision blurred, and then the rope slipped.

  My arms shooting up above my head with the gravity and force I'd just exerted on them. The carabiner sliding up the front of my chest, over the smooth material of my dress, crushing the crystals along its décolletage into my flesh.

  And then I fell through the loop.

  My legs failed, my hands scrabbled for purchase, my hair wiped around my head and then the wig flew off in the breeze. I caught a nail on the rope's edge. It tore right out, causing an inhuman sound to escape my lips. Tears coursed down my cheeks, snot added to the blood on my chin. For a second I saw the end of my life.

  And then a hard hand wrapped around my wrist and Trent said, "Got you."

  I stared up into deep bottomless blue and panted through my terror, letting Trent's steady gaze hold me anchored to the world. The wind had picked up, clouds were skittering across the sky. My legs were dangling two hundred metres above concrete and cars. And he didn't look away once.

  It was impossible, though. He held me with just one hand, the other trying to take some of the weight on the rope above his head. Trying to distribute the load. There was no way we could both get out of this alive, and if he held on to me we'd both surely die.

  I searched for my rope, but now weightless, it blew away in the stiffening breeze, too high for us to reach. And whoever was holding it, couldn't lower it down further. Maybe too busy with Trent's rope now it weighed twice as much?

  I looked back into Trent's eyes, taking a moment to see them, really see them, one last time. His palm was sweaty, I could feel the minute slip of his grip. It made up my mind.

  "Let go," I whispered, my voice more hoarse than I would have expected. Emotion, not pain, making my eyes well with tears. "We're not going to make it," I added, hoping he understood the futility of holding on to me.

  "No," he said with a determined shake of his head. "Never," he offered, and his grip tightened to almost painful. "I will never let you go," he finished, and I was sure the words meant more than either of us realised right then.

  "Now," he said, his words whipped away on a sudden gust of wind, but I could still hear them, deep and strong. So steady, when my entire body was shaking from adrenaline and body quaking panic. And the surety that it was my time to die. "You're going to climb up my body, cling to me like a monkey."

  He even managed a small smile. As though this wasn't happening up in the clouds without a safety net. As though I hadn't just suggested he let me fall to my death.

  My eyes searched his body, still doubtful this would work. But aware he wouldn't let go now. Until forced to. I considered twisting my arm, loosening his grip on my wrist. But he simply shook his head, as though telling off a child. I turned my attention to his rope, unable to look him in the eyes for some reason. It was looped around his chest as mine had been. No harness. No climbing gear as such. Just a carabiner to create a circle that would tighten under his arms; which, thankfully, were much broader than mine and hadn't slipped through yet. It must have been causing him agony, though. As much as mine had done for me. More now, because he had my weight to contend with as well.

  "Come on," he urged, and there was strain evident in his tone now.

  I sucked in a breath. In the end I couldn't do it to him: Force him to let go. It was too cruel. So I grabbed hold of his forearm, hauling myself higher until I could grip his belt buckle, then his upper arm, and finally his shoulder, my teeth gritted, my heart pounding, pain ratcheting through my body with every move. And then wrapped my legs around his waist, my panted breaths washing over his face, level with mine.

  "You're heavier than you look," he quipped, then before I could answer, although speaking was unsurprisingly out for me right then, he said, "Ready when you are, Alan." And the rope jerked, as Alan began pulling us up to where he'd been acting as anchor.

  "It's going to be all right," Trent said, making me realise I must have looked worse than I'd initially thought. "Well," he added. "We've still got to get out of the fire-break level and I'm guessing Chew-wen will be heading there with his drones about now."

  I glanced over his head, trying to make out anything beyond the rope. I couldn't see if there was still a figure leaning over the railing of the balcony we'd just ridiculously jumped from, but I was pretty sure a drone had a laser gun angled on us from the lounge room's deck of the Markhams' suite.

  It wasn't firing, but how much control Wang Chao had over it, I didn't know. I felt the weight of my handbag crossed over my body and chest, the vid-screen safely tucked away inside. Controlling the drones wasn't the Chief Overseer's main concern anymore, and that just left me feeling ill inside.

  The opening, where Alan must have been, came closer then, allowing me to see what they'd had to do to get to me. It would have involved an explosion of some sort. Or high powered laser guns to chip through concrete. I'm surprised alarms weren't going off throughout the entire building, but maybe they were now and we just couldn't hear them.

  We banged against the side of the tower a few times before we made it close enough to grip the ledge of the makeshift hole. Trent taking the brunt of it against his back, shielding me right to the end. I couldn't make him out. I was sure he didn't trust me. Why else did he do what he did back at the base? Why else follow me here?

  He didn't trust me, but he still risked his and Alan's life to back me up. Did he know what I'd come for? Did he know what Harjeet wanted and wanted it for the revolution instead?

  I'd give it to him, if he asked. But then, he'd be without the antidote to the opiate that was still coursing through his veins. The reason why I'd done this in the first place.

  But now, as Alan reached out and hauled me over the lip of the hole, grunting while he did so, sweat coating his dark features, making them shine, I wondered if Harjeet would uphold his end of the bargain at all. He'd insisted I not tell Trent or the rebels. And yet Trent now knew, and I was guessing the others did as well, that I'd been here for something important, probably aware that it was at Harjeet's request as well.

  I rolled out of the way, panting for breaths, letting my hands lay flat on the concrete beneath me to reinforce the fact I was no longer dangling high above the world, and tried to decide how much I told them. Because Trent would ask, if he didn't already know. So, I'd wait for him to make the first move and choose my path then. Praying I could make this work for everyone.

  I didn't trust Harjeet. But I was acutely aware that Trent didn't trust me.

  What did that leave me?

  "Fuck!" Alan exclaimed, as soon as Trent crawled on all fours onto the concrete floor and then collapsed. His back rose and fell sharply, but he barely made any sound as he sucked in life saving air. "That was suicidal!" Alan added.

  "Not... over... yet," Trent managed, and turned his head to look at me from where he lay. "You OK?"

  I nodded. I had rope burns covering my hands and fingers, a nail missing, a bloody nose - that may or may not be broken - scrapes and bruises all over my body, possibly a cracked rib, definitely a pounding headache, and several strands of my hair missing when the wig flew off in the wind. I rubbed at my head, aware my hair was pinned up and plastered to my scalp.

  I started pulling the pins out; vani
ty, that bitch, making me smooth my hair for more reasons than just blending in once we reached the street.

  "How do we get out of here?" I asked, noting Alan was just finishing up rolling the rope away inside a bag that had to be full of useful gear.

  I glanced back at the hole, noticing for the first time that it was an air duct they'd had to remove. It was clear explosions had been used, burn marks evident on the floor, scorching around its edges, but all of it leading me to believe the explosions would have been minor.

  Maybe they hadn't set off any alarms.

  Still, Wang Chao would be here soon.

  "I don't suppose you've got wing-suits in that bag?" I asked, eyeing Alan and his stash.

  "We're not all crazy-arsed ninja ballerinas," he growled back. I frowned at him, wondering where the hell that had come from.

  "Best route out of here, Si?" Trent asked the room at large, ignoring the staring match Alan and I had going on.

  Occasionally Alan would act like this, as though I'd personally affronted him. But it made no sense now, considering he'd worn a wing-suit at Wántel when I first met him, and even jumped out of the hole in the side of the window I'd opened with my laser ring.

  Of course, he'd only gone as far as the Káitech Industries building, not following my somersault through the air down to the shopping mall on Broadway afterwards.

  Ahhh.

  "OK, let's move," Trent advised, climbing to his feet in what appeared a nimble fashion. If he was hurting, he wasn't showing it now.

  I ached as I staggered upright, regretting sitting still on the concrete for any time at all. If I stopped long enough now, I'd never move again. We had to get going for more than just one reason.

  "Best bet is the stairwell down to a casino floor and then blend in with the guests," Trent said, directing the words to me, as Alan would have heard Si's suggestion through his own earpiece.

  "Has he spotted Wang Chao?" I asked, following both men to the far corner of the barren space we were in.

  Trent looked over his shoulder at me, taking in my now ripped dress, the fabric which was finally creased, the several missing crystals along its hems, and then sweeping blue eyes over my once again white and black head of hair. He didn't look much better. Bedraggled and dust coated, his dinner suit was more grey than black, definitely wrinkled, and his own hair messed up from the high altitude rescue in the wind. Alan was a sheen of perspiration, dust coating his own jacket and trousers. His shoes scuffed and not at all Elite.

  "No," Trent finally replied, but the wealth of words not voiced said it all.

  The building would be swarming with drones. Possibly Cardinals as well. Wang Chao would be behind every camera lens. And we looked so out of place that every Citizen who feared for their lives, or just wanted a year's worth of rations for their families, would be pointing fingers and calling us out.

  My hand wrapped around my bag and I felt the vid-screen I'd placed inside. If I was searched, maybe the flash-drive would survive, but the vid-screen certainly wouldn't. I racked my brain for a way to hide it better. Leave it somewhere and come back later when it's safe? Give it to Alan and separate, drawing Wang Chao's attention after me and not him?

  It didn't matter. We were out of time.

  As soon as Trent opened the door, at the end of the fire-break room we'd been in, the sound of the building's alarms met our ears.

  Along with the too loud synchronised beat of dozens of drone feet in the stairwell.

  Chapter 29

  Clever

  Trent

  "This could work in our favour," I advised the others.

  "How?" Alan asked, incredulously.

  "It's a Civil Defence Force alarm," I explained. "Fire or bomb threat; the building will be evacuating."

  "Chaos," Lena offered, understanding on her bruised and battered face.

  I reached forward with a clean handkerchief from my pocket and wiped at the blood on her chin. She looked a mess. No doubt we all did. But seeing Lena injured, and still battling with her last breath, made something deep inside me expand and shift. Pale blue eyes watched me warily. And I couldn't blame her. I hadn't given her much reason to trust.

  But I'd realised something up in the SkyPark, watching her play out a role that had at one time been her reality. Lena was not the Elite I had first met. She'd grown, opened her eyes, and evolved into this woman before me. A woman I couldn't seem to stop being drawn to, pulled towards.

  I wasn't sure I could change who I was so easily. But part of me wondered if Lena would be the person I chose to change for.

  She reached up and took the handkerchief from my grasp, finishing off the task of cleaning herself up.

  "Well, useful or not," Alan interrupted my mesmerised gaze, "we need to choose a direction and take it."

  "Elevators will be on shut-down," I said, shifting out onto the landing of the stairwell and looking over the edge at the approaching drones. "Evac will be via emergency exits only."

  "And going down the stairs will lead us directly to the drones," Alan offered.

  "Hide in one of the suites?" Lena suggested.

  I shook my head. They'd eventually search them all. "No, but there is another way."

  They both looked at me, eyebrows arched. They didn't realise how alike they actually were. Daredevils, risk takers. Fighters to the very end.

  "Those on the SkyPark will be offered alternate rescue if they warrant it."

  Nothing from either of them.

  I smiled. Tehteh airport might be off limits, but Wánměi still had a viable Civil Defence Force which utilised former Wánměi military helicopters when required. Security was tight and they weren't seen often; use of them would create questions the Overseers wouldn't want to answer. But I had seen them in operation once, when the Wánměi Pherres broke down and those in the upper most capsules were winched to the relative safety of the Civil Defence rescue helicopter.

  It was a sight I'll never forget. A glimpse at what our nation had once been.

  "It'll require some of your Elite acting skills," I said, looking at a still confused Lena.

  "What will?" she asked.

  "Convincing the SkyPark attendees to call in for a helicopter rescue."

  Silence, then Alan started to chuckle. "That might just work, boss."

  "Of course it'll work," I declared. Then looked back at Lena. "You up for it, Honourable?"

  She glanced down at her dishevelled dress and frowned. Then looked around the landing we were on; side to side, up the stairwell and back down. One direction led to the penthouse suites and Wang Chao above us. The other led to the approaching drones several floors beneath. I knew which way she'd move, even if I wasn't sure what she was up to.

  Racing towards the fifty-fourth floor below us, we tore off at a rapid pace, aware the penthouse door above had just opened, announcing the Chief Overseer's arrival. Or one of his drones. I was surprised he hadn't appeared already, but perhaps he'd used the alternate stairs at the other end of the tower first. And I was also certain he would have watched Lena until the very last moment, as she dangled, life in my hands, from the side of this tower. The man was obsessed with her as much as I was. No way would I have looked away until she was safe.

  We slammed through the emergency door, which now the alarms were sounding, had disengaged all keypad locks. Pausing, only to get her bearings, Lena glanced up at the ceiling and spotted what she was after. My eyes darted to where she was looking, taking a millisecond to catch on to her plan.

  My lighter was out and Alan was crouching down to offer a lift in the next instant. Within five more seconds the sprinklers had been activated and we were drenched. This entire Quay Resort tower would be under water right now, making every single occupant a dishevelled mess.

  "Clever," I murmured, as I helped Alan to his feet.

  "Now we need to get to the SkyPark," Lena announced.

  Right when the door behind us, leading to the emergency stairwell, opened, and Chew-wen Wang C
hao walked in.

  Chapter 30

  It Was Me Who Had Killed Them

  Lena

  "Do you honestly think you can escape?" Wang Chao asked.

  I stood frozen for a moment, frustrated more than panicked. Until Trent stepped in front of me, acting as a shield.

  Wang Chao didn't have a laser gun aimed at us, nor was he accompanied by one of his drones. But the menace in his eyes, the deathly intent in the dark brown gaze, made chills race up my spine. When he saw Trent move to protect me, anger and rage washed over his face.

  "I'm prepared to offer an out," he managed to say in a reasonable voice, despite the ticking of a muscle in his square jaw. "Let Selena go, and I'll give you a head start to get out of here, using whatever ill-conceived plan you've just devised." His eyes darted up to the sprinkler above us, blinking through the torrent of water as it fell, clearly aware that we'd activated it.

  Clearly aware it was part of a plan to escape.

  I didn't believe he'd let Trent and Alan go. But he'd manipulate them into releasing me first, before he'd wipe them. That way he'd avoid me getting harmed in the crossfire. As much as I didn't trust him, I was also acutely conscious of the fact he'd have drones waiting right outside the door. One word from him and we'd be outnumbered. His offer was our only chance of making this work.

  I felt the weight of my handbag over my shoulder, the imagined added heaviness of what it contained. Passing it over to Trent or Alan, before they attempted to escape without me, would be a dead give away to Wang Chao. But if I held on to it, I would eventually be searched.

  I didn't know what to do. For the first time, in a long time, I was without a compass.

  "And we should just believe you'd let us go?" Trent finally asked, his shoulders rigid, his back straight. A stoic shield against a lethal lance.

  "I enjoy the chase," Wang Chao offered as answer, an amused smile curving his lips.

  Trent laughed, almost as though he and the Chief Overseer were having a friendly chat. I felt Alan move closer, but I hadn't seen Trent signal at all to make him do so. Whatever had made him shift, I didn't know.