Scarlet Angel (13 page)

Scarlett thrust up and wrenched the weapon from him.
She spun around and brought her elbow across his cheek. His limp
body started falling to the floor, but she shoved her open hand
into his chest and slammed him into the concrete.

She exhaled sharply and stared down at the
unconscious Chaz. Her knee held one arm down while she straddled
his chest. The plasma pistol was firmly in her grip, pressed
against his temple.

Instinct fueled her rage. Staring down at his closed
eyes, she felt her finger pull against the trigger. Muscle memory
told her to squeeze the last two millimeters.

Her mind said no.

Scarlett flung herself off the young man. She stood
and walked over to the door and Neil. She watched the unconscious
figure as she stepped over him. “You sick bastard. I’m not killing
an innocent man.”

Scarlett emptied the chamber and took out the
magazine. “You can keep this. I’m done.”

She glared at Neil, challenging him. With her jaw
set, she felt a few stray red hairs twitch against her cheek.
Movement behind her and the glint of metal reflected in Neil’s
eyes. Scarlett twisted to the side, letting the molecule-edged
hyperblade slice through her suit coat, but not her side. Her left
arm flew up and shattered Chaz’s elbow.

The blade fell from his hand. Scarlett, still in
motion, spun around behind him and wrapped her arms around his
head. Before she realized what she was doing, her limbs wrenched
hard to the side. Chaz’s neck gave a sickening crack.

In slow motion, she watched him collapse to the
ground. This time, she knew he would not get up.

Metal clanged and the arena door swung open. “I
suppose I can call that a success.”

“
Screw you.”

Neil walked over, picked up the plasma pistol and
the hyperblade. He shoved the pistol into his waistband and the
blade into an empty sheath he’d kept hidden under his coat. “Let’s
go.”

“
Where?”

“
I have someone who wants to meet
you.”

She was in a fog. She’d done it again. She’d killed
another human being. Her mind would not let her fully grasp what
had just happened. “Who?”

“
You’ll see.”

Scarlett stumbled then turned around to Chaz’s body.
“You just going to leave him?”

Neil strolled out of the cage, keeping his back to
her. “Yep.”

Chapter 19
A Job

Memories, flittering on the edge of recollection. I
don’t trust them. But then, I don’t really trust reality anymore
either.

* * *

Scarlett stared at the man sitting before her. The
instant she saw him, she remembered that she knew him. She knew him
before she was called Scarlett, though she wasn’t sure how.

The man stared back at her. He reclined against the
railing of the bleachers. His left hand held a smoldering cigar. A
trail of blueish smoke drifted in eddies above the embers and
danced across the shafts of light peeking through the painted
windows. He exhaled and sent a waft of the tobacco to her. “Do you
remember me?”

Neil stood back, waiting for her response to the
man’s question.

All of Scarlett’s flashbacks so far had been very
physical. She didn’t just remember the memories, she experienced
them. This one was different. She inhaled the scent of the cigar
and knew.

Blind muscle memory took over. She spun around
behind Neil and pulled the nine-mil from his waistband. Scarlett
continued to move, stepping sideways. The cigar-man’s forehead
never strayed from her front sight post.

“
Who the hell are you?”

Neil stepped back. The reloaded plasma pistol
appeared in his hand, targeted on Scarlett’s head. “Scar, what are
you doing? Put the gun down.”

“
Neil, who is this guy? I know
him. I met him the night I was raped and killed.”

“
Yes. Yes you did, my dear.” More
smoke poured from the man’s mouth, matching his raspy
voice.

The scratchy sounds of his words resurrected lost
memories of the inside of a limousine and a crystal glass
half-filled with a brown liquid.

“
It’s alright, Mr. Smithson.
Please lower your weapon. She will not shoot me.”

Neil’s weapon dipped a little. He looked at
cigar-man then back to Scarlett and finally lowered his arms.

“
You so sure about that? Because,
I swear to God, if you don’t tell me who you are, I’m going to put
this bullet through your skull. Are you working with
Derrick?”

He took a puff from his cigar. “My name is Lawrence
Collier. And, in a sense, I do work with Mr. Martins,
however...”

Scarlett shifted her stance and reaffirmed her grip
on the gun.

“
However
,” Mr. Collier
continued. “I had nothing to do with what happened to you that
night. In fact, that night is part of the reason I am here. I am
here to help, not threaten you.”

“
The fact that you even know I’m
here is a threat to me and my family. Give me one good reason why I
shouldn’t give your brain a little room to breathe.”

“
I can assure you, Ms. McAdams, I
mean you no harm, and your family is safe.”

She made a small step to the side, away from Neil.
“Don’t call me that. Jillian McAdams is dead.

“
Fair enough.”

“
Tell me why the hell you’re
here.”

He puffed on his cigar again. “Well, to put it
bluntly... to offer you a job.”

Scarlett laughed. “I’m sorry... Did you say ‘a
job’?”

“
Yes.”

“
You’re nuts. I only know you from
that night... the night I died. I don’t know anything about you,
and you want to offer me a job?”

“
That is correct.”

She struggled against swirling images in her head.
Derrick and Neil became interchangeable, both in the bedroom and on
the training mat. She focused on the gun in her hand and regained
control over her thoughts.

“
Okay, but the last time we met, I
was only a research assistant. You don’t even know me.”

Mister Collier laughed. The arena crackled with the
hoarse sound. “My dear, if what I just witnessed is any indication,
and with what Mr. Smithson has told me...” He pointed to Neil. “I
know everything I need to know about you.”

Scarlett lowered the muzzle of her weapon a little.
“You want me to kill someone.”

“
Not precisely. How much do you
remember from before the accident?”

“
Not much.”

The older man stood and arched his back. “So you
have no recollection of what the project you were working on was?”
He started down the bleachers.

“
No. Why?” The tip of Scarlett’s
weapon dipped.

“
Code named Centarus. Ring any
bells?”

“
No.”

“
Universal Dynamics was contracted
by the Earthspace Command to develop an interstellar engine, one
capable of interstellar flight. We’re talking about weeks and
months instead of decades and centuries.”

“
Okay... The theories are well
known and sound, so it’s really only a matter of time. So I worked
on it, what’s the big deal?”

Mister Collier reached the floor and started around
the cage. “The project manager at the time, a Mr. Derrick Martins,
changed some of the calibrations on the engine at the last minute
before the engine test. As a result, the equipment went critical
and killed twenty-two people. Do you know why he did this?”

Scarlett only shook her head.

“
A related side project using
similar technology was being developed in parallel with Centarus.
That one was called Hermes.”

“
The messenger?”

“
Yes. We think Hermes was seeing
much more success than Centarus.”

“
If Centarus was the engine for a
ship, what was Hermes’s goal?”

“
Near-instantaneous interstellar
communication. Hermes was based on the need to communicate with a
Centarus-based vessel in near real time. It works by creating
vibrations in the fabric of space itself.”

She stopped and looked at the ground. The wheels
turned in her mind and the pieces came together. “He sabotaged
Centarus because of something from Hermes.”

He turned around and took a puff. “We think so. In
the five years since the explosion, Universal Dynamic has canceled
all related programs. They’ve mothballed it all.”

“
So what is it you want from
me?”

“
That technology, or at least to
know why it was shut down.”

“
You want me to steal the Hermes
data.”

“
Yes.”

Scarlett shoved the weapon into her waistband. “Why
me? Why not Neil or someone else?”

“
To be honest, Mr. Smithson was
our first pick, but he recommended you. He said you knew inside and
intimate details about Mr. Martins and the company. Even
if
only some of your memories regarding the explosion and your
romantic relationships have returned.”

The older man turned to face her and placed a hand
on the cage. “We are counting on there being some key piece of
information inside that thick and naive skull of yours that will
give you an edge.”

“
That’s a bit of a longshot. I
mean, it’s been five years and I barely remember
anything”

“
It’s still a bet we’re willing to
make. Besides, if Neil trusts you, then so do I.”

Scarlett turned back to Neil. He just gave a single
nod.

“
Alright, but... Why now? Why not
before or even later?”

Mister Collier turned to Neil and laughed. “You did
say she would be full of questions.” He took a deep puff from his
dwindling cigar and continued.

“
My company has been secretly
developing the very same technology. But we have hit a roadblock.
Where we expect quiet, there is static and overwhelming background
noise. We cannot get our equipment to work properly. We have simply
run out of options.”

“
You think Derrick discovered
something to make it work that you haven’t found yet.”

He nodded. “Yes.”

“
What’s in it for me?”

Neil smiled

Mister Collier chuckled and pulled an eCash card
from his breast pocket. “I have ten thousand credits on this card.
Plus four million more to be deposited into an account. Half to
start, half when complete.”

She stopped. She wanted to laugh and cry at the same
time. Four million was more credits than she thought she would see
in her lifetime. Still, a voice in her head urged her to push for
more.

“
Seven.”

“
Five.”

Scarlett leaned against the cage and crossed her
arms. “Six.”

The older man put the cigar to his lips. The tip of
the dark brown stub of tobacco flared bright orange. He exhaled,
letting the grey plume spew forth into the air. “I’ll meet you at
five-five.”

She eyed him for a moment.
Not bad for my first
negotiation.
“Done.”

Chapter 20
Outside

For someone who has lived in a box with no windows,
even the grey sky and air, thick with pollution, smells sweeter
than the mind can imagine.

* * *

She saw the young man’s face over and over in her
mind. The sores on his arms and face only reinforced his tired eyes
and sickly pallor. He wavered back and forth, wasted on some
chemical.
Probably flash. That would explain it.

Scarlett had never actually known anyone who’d done
the mind-bending stimulant. Everything she knew about it she’d
learned from either news reports or rumor. She knew it was the
trendy drug of choice in the supercities like LA and New York. She
also knew that it had extended its tendrils of addiction even into
the remote backwaters of places like Freedom, Oklahoma and
Burhamton, Iowa.

The news reports had said that it was so addictive,
that users were hooked after the first use one hundred percent of
the time. Scarlett didn’t care about those numbers or even the drug
itself. It only made the man she killed more pathetic and helpless.
She knew she should have done something else…could have done
something else. Anything other than ending his life.

Every night for the past week, she had awoken to a
sweat-soaked pillow. Her dreams had been filled with Neil’s booming
voice ordering her to kill the boy. Even as she screamed defiantly
back at him, Neil’s gentle whispers told her it needed to be
done.

She realized she was just beginning to know what
kind of man Neil really was. If she didn’t need him for this job,
she would be gone already. That’s what she told herself to stop the
tears.

Scarlett spent the next few days in her room, only
coming out in the middle of the night to eat. During her
self-isolation, the only time she saw Neil was when he helped her
set up her off-shore account. The first half of her payment, two
and three quarters million credits, appeared only minutes after
Neil sent the account number to Mr. Collier.

On the seventh day after her killing Chaz, she came
out of her room to find Neil’s brown-haired head bent over a bowl
at the table. His spoon clanked against the almost-empty cereal
bowl and he straightened up.

“
Good morning.” His voice was
comfortable, friendly and human, as if nothing had
happened.

How can he act like nothing has happened? Like
nothing has changed?
“Morning.” She kept her voice flat and
emotionless.

A long, quiet moment followed. She grabbed breakfast
and sat down at the opposite end of the table.