Swerve (13 page)

Romia sat quietly on the plane. She'd never flown before. There were many things she had not done outside of being a cop and fighting in the ring. She was nearly thirty, and she'd not been to Disneyland, she'd not eaten cotton candy, she'd never had sex, nor had she ever been on a flight, and this one was to be over eighteen hours.

Always do it big when you do it
, she reasoned.

She was on her way to the Europe. She fought emotion and confusion and all sorts of other feelings. Her head was full of new information and her loyalties were in question.

No one had stopped them, or questioned them at the airport. Apparently, there was no APB in effect yet, or not one that was being paid attention to.
It wasn't as if she'd made national news. She'd killed someone who wasn't even dead. How serious of a crime could that be?

“You have a mission, and it's not to waste your life being a cop,” Maxwell had said to her in the car on the way to the airport. She glanced over at him. He seemed more relaxed that they were on their way to the plane.

It was a private charter and very comfortable and expensive looking. She'd seen this type of plane in movies, but never dreamed she'd be on one. The young man, Royale, had wandered back, from who knows where, to his seat. He had a bottle of water in his hand and some kind of sandwich. She watched him. He moved like a dancer. Smooth and charming, his lips turned into a clearly unconscious smile. His eyes danced with devilment and mystery, and maybe a little bit of danger, too. He was distracting to her. It wasn't that she found him attractive, with his sandy blond locks and green eyes. No, she didn't see anything attractive about him, not really. He was just disturbing.

Who was she trying to fool? Hell, he was beautiful, and she couldn't keep her eyes off him.

The Phoenix: Ten years ago

“Someone is apparently trying to kill me,” the Phoenix said with a wicked smile curving his full lips. His steel-like blue eyes were not moving, not flinching in the least.

It was a longtime put-off meeting between the two of them, taking place off the coast of France.

He had avoided speaking with the Phoenix for years, as he knew it would mean continued affiliation with him, and he was tired of it. He wanted to be free of it.

He was dead now, and so how much freer could he be?

Looking now at the Phoenix's tired face, however, he regretted his thoughts. There would be no freedom from this man, not as long as they shared blood.

“Why would someone want you dead?” was all he could ask.

“I've lived a very long life, and what a full life it's been, too. I'm thinking that along the line I've apparently pissed some people off. Finding out whom specifically has become a real challenge, however.” The Phoenix chuckled slightly, snapping his fingers for the waiter to bring him another lemon for his Perrier. “I have my thoughts on the matter. I will never understand a person who uses his mind and its potential for such a wasted effort as revenge. It's such a useless endeavor.”

He looked around cautiously and then back, only to meet the Phoenix's unworried face. “You don't need to worry here, we're quite safe. Haven't I always kept you safe?”

“No,” he answered bluntly, thinking of
Capri
, but before he could say the name…“Speaking of safe, how are the wife and the children?” the Phoenix asked.

It had taken a long time for the Phoenix to accept that he had gone against his orders and married a civilian and had children with her.

Civilian. Always at war
, he thought, noticing the tension in the tone of the Phoenix's inquiry. He just smiled, knowing the question was a hard one for the Phoenix to ask.

“The wife is well and so are the children,” he answered. “Safe,” he added confidently and with a little dig in it.

“So your life with her has been better than your life with me?” the Phoenix asked.

He looked off; he couldn't believe where this conversation was going. “I don't understand why you asked me that.” he said. “You have always been in everything I do. You act like I've ever been Phoenix free. You act as though my marriage now has been Phoenix free,” he growled. “I wouldn't be here if you weren't in my life. You are in all of our lives. Why are you even talking about my wife? I don't want to talk about my wife,” he said, abruptly shutting down the conversation.

The Phoenix sipped his water before tipping the waiter and sending him on his way. “Let's get back to the issue at hand then: my life. As you of all people should know, betrayal runs deep among us. I believe my coordinates have been compromised.”

“And you think I—”

“No. Of course not. I think another traitor is in our midst.”

“Another one,” he repeated.

The Phoenix laughed sarcastically. “You are far too sensitive, my son,” the Phoenix said.

It caused a chill to carry up his spine. It was rare that the Phoenix addressed him as his son. It was true, but often not mentioned and, now, far from noteworthy. There had been too many years, too much water under the bridge for him to care about his legacy with this man.

The Phoenix sipped his water again after squeezing in the juice of the lemon wedge and dropping the rind in. “By the way, when will I ever get to see my grandchildren? You don't think I'm worthy of seeing them?”

“No! I don't want you near my children. They are normal and happy children. They have no idea of the blood that flows in their veins and I'll be damned if I'll ever tell them!” He spoke in Arabic now.

“Oh, they'll find out. I promise you that.”

The plane was flying smoothly, much like an expensive car. Romia still found it impossible to sleep.

“Are you going to try to sleep?” Maxwell asked.

“No,” she answered. The tension in her voice was obvious.

He smiled. “You should.”

“I'll never sleep again,” she said, sounding almost dramatic. Still, she watched Royale out of one eye. He was now settling in to a catnap.

“You and Royale are finished fighting for one day, I'm sure,” Maxwell said, obviously noting her eyes.

“I don't like him.”

“One day you'll change your mind,” Maxwell assured.

“I never will.”

“You're very stubborn.”

Finally, she rolled her eyes in his direction and sighed copiously. “Tell me what's going on. You've explained very little to me. Okay, so I get that you're the good guys, or so you say, but I—”

Maxwell held up his finger to silence her. “I'll talk. You listen.”

Upon those words, Romia noticed even Royale's eyes crack open slightly. He too had questions about their mission. Romia could tell.

The Phoenix

The Phoenix appeared by all rights to be a myth. Yet, top secret and reluctantly discussed, he was real. Although he was a certifiable genius, to some he was a certifiably madman, overlooking authority, finding his way of thinking to be superior to the US government.

Forming a small team of those much like him, he and his group often came in uninvited, did what was usually unasked, and left taking more gifts than were offered. Young, strong, trained in martial warfare and destruction, this group of loyal followers made it their goal to right all wrongs and wrong some rights at the discretion of their leader, the Phoenix. Making leadership decisions based on his moral and self-developed loyalties, he began using this team in ways the government did not intend to use them.

Viewed by many as thieves, assassins, and vigilantes, their purpose for involvement in certain situations seemed driven only by the self-need, and greed, of their leader.

Those who followed him never questioned his word, as they were birds of a feather.

Not only did he have a high IQ, but it was rumored that the Phoenix, which was the only name he answered to, also had physical peculiarities unusual to most people. The Phoenix was indeed a hybrid. He sought out young children who were much like him in many ways—gifted. He raised them as foster children for the most part, teaching them to hone their extraordinary abilities until finally they, too, had mastery over their intellectual and kinetic abilities. It was believed that he trained them through the use of much mind control, as they looked to him as more than a father. They, for the most part, worshipped him.

His brand of leadership eventually led to internal conflicts and strife as well, and soon they were a household divided. Those who bucked his leadership took on their own missions. They were based more in immediate and material gratification than those of increased power and stroking of the Phoenix's ego. Those who transgressed the Phoenix crossed lines they should not have, and made dangerous alliances. It was these crossed allegiances and disloyalties that made him and his group a liability.

Once the breaches were identified, behind closed doors governments met jointly to use those breaches against them to seek and destroy them. Unable to pin down the government to which he was truly affiliated, all sovereignties seemed to want this Phoenix and all those associated with him gone. The Phoenix, as if sensing his demise, dispersed the group.

The chase to find them all and destroy them was daunting, with them being always one step ahead of their would-be captures. Many escaped capture, some did not. Some of those who did not get captured became traitors in order to save their own lives.

Even after all these years, there remained those who would hunt the survivors for a hefty bounty. The biggest prize, of course, would be in finding the Phoenix himself.

Jim, after dropping off Keliegh and Lawrence, went out to the hospital to see Tommy. It was easy to get in. The badge came in handy when he wanted it to. She'd had surgery on her ankle and was resting “Hey,” he said to her, noticing that the curtain around her was open. She was watching TV.

Quickly, she pointed the remote and clicked it off. “Hey,” she said, looking a little embarrassed. Her hair was messy and she looked a little pasty in color, no doubt leftover drug effects from her surgical procedure.

“Got some information on our friend Romia.”

“Like what?”

“Well…” Jim hesitated. “Okay, I'll try it on you before I try it out on Lawrence and Keliegh. It's some wild shit and, well, they won't believe it, but you might.”

“Why? Because I'm female,” she answered, frowning just a little bit.”

Jim smiled. “Yeah, you're female. I had noticed that a while back and was thinking, okay, so if there's anything I want to try on a female—she's the one,” he said, trying to keep the flirt from his voice.

It didn't work, as Tommy quickly ran her fingers through her messy hair and cleared her throat. “Okay, try me.”

“Would love to,” he said, again not meaning to come on strong, but failing. “Ahem…sorry,” he added. “What do I got…um, okay. Let me start at the beginning. You know anything about like…heightened sensory perceptions or like…”

“Like ESP?”

“Well, more than that. I mean, like David Copperfield or Houdini, shit like that.”

“Well, no. I mean, they do magic tricks.”

“But not everybody can do that shit. I mean, I know a few card tricks, but what they do is amazing. I saw Copperfield live one time in Vegas and he was amazing.”

“Okay, go on.”

“Well, what if you had, like, dozens of Copperfields or Houdinis working for you—spying for you?”

“Shit, I'd be unstoppable. Well, unless one of them shot me, then I'd have to call on my
Matrix
skills. But you didn't say I had those skills,” she added. She was playing along well and catching on quick to the gist of the conversation and where he was taking it. She was quick. He liked that.

“Exactly. But other than getting shot or stabbed or…”

“Or leap a building in a single bound.”

“Yeah, shit like that, you could basically get in, get out, and do whatever you wanted to a government file or even take out somebody who wasn't expecting you to show up in the middle of the night, like a ninja, without the average person being able to stop you.”

“So you're saying we're dealing with a buncha Houdini assassins.”

“We were. Most of them are dead.”

“Romia?”

“Her mother.”

“Her mother was Houdini?”

“I think so. I think she was part of a team of Houdini ninja people who had these”—Jim ran his hands over his body as if to represent something going on inside him, uncontrollably moving around inside him like ants—“these abilities. They were like like hybrids.”

“Wow! Unbelievable.”

He turned away. “I told you.”

“No, no, I believe you. I'm just saying wow. I mean, that woman who kicked my ass, she got on the phone, and a second after she'd pretended to be Romia, she was me.”

“You?”

“Yeah, she had my voice and everything. I mean, I was out, but I wasn't, like,
out
out. I could hear her. She had my voice.”

“Well, then, she's definitely one of them. I haven't quite figured out what they want, but they are definitely putting their little cult together and they need Romia.” Jim looked around for a chair and slid it close to the bed and sat down. “I think the government thinks they cleaned up a mess it made, but, as always, they didn't do a good job of it and now it's back to haunt them.”

“'Kay, and Romia?”

“She's a pawn. I think she's a part of it but doesn't know it—well, she may know now, but even then I can't believe she's being told the truth. If she's as good a cop as I've always heard, she can't be going along willingly.”

“You think they're blackmailing her. I mean, they did set her up pretty good with that murder frame. I'm sure it was a setup now.”

“Well, it appears so. But what I'm thinking is that her mother was in it deep, and for some reason they think Romia is like a chip off the off black magic box.” Jim pulled out the picture of the phoenix tapestry. “This symbol is a key.”

“Romia wore that on her jacket like a crest.”

“And in a way it was. I'm sure it was for her mother, anyway. But in Romia's case, it was a target. She was a walking bull's-eye for these guys. I mean, they aren't stupid, they probably knew she existed all along, but…” Jim shook his head. “But she didn't help the situation by drawing their attention to herself. They probably assumed she knew what the bird symbolized, or that she was telling them, ‘Yeah, I gots abilities.'”

“Tell me more about these abilities, because Romia creeps me out sometimes. You telling me she inherited them?”

“I think so. From what I read from her mother's bio and the others, their abilities are like what anyone could have but focused on, or built on, they can cause a bend in the norm.”

“Like, speed or like…”

“Yeah, like one dude's bio said he was a pyro…pryo…he could start fires with his brain. You ever hear of such a thing?”

“Yeah, pyrokinetics, they set fires. Spontaneous combustion has been the source of many scientific studies…not proven, of course. Usually it's a trick, like rain dancing, but still, you gotta be damn good at it so as not to kill yourself.”

“Okay, well, then, you won't think this is crazy. Romia's mom was a sharpshooter and trained in martial arts and all the regular stuff, but supposedly she also had telekinetic abilities. Like she could read minds and like…like scramble somebody's brain…like…hypnotize. Yeah, she supposedly was mentally bent that way.”

“Wow, so you think Romia inherited that?”

“I think Romia's mother set her up to fall right into that bend. She didn't die when Romia was six years old. She died a few years ago—gunned down.”

“Damn.” Tommy gulped in surprise. “Are you sure?”

“That's what it showed in the report. The government went after everyone on the Phoenix Team and killed them. You know how it is when you're different. These people knew too much. They were a threat to national security.”

“Damn. But if you're saying Romia's mother set Romia up to have the same ‘abilities' that got her killed, she was setting Romia up for the same people to come after her. How could she set Romia up for a life like that?”

“I'm not sure it went that way. Whoever raised Romia, maybe they knew her mother, maybe they didn't.”

“If they did, they had to know that Romia could possibly have the same mental predisposition and sensitivities. Something musta given it away.”

“Maybe it was Romia kicking ass on the playground at six years old or walking through walls and shit!”

Tommy laughed, but then again gathered the seriousness of the potential situation. “So whoever it was has probably been watching Romia a long-ass time, just waiting for the right moment. But still, who? If all these people are dead—”

“Tommy, I'm not sure any of these people are really dead. I'm not even sure Romia's mother is dead. The guy called it a witch hunt and…”

“And if they are what they think they are…”

“Exactly, they wouldna been able to stop 'em—not all of 'em.”

“So what do you think they're up to? Those who didn't get caught?”

“I think they want freedom, peace, to be left alone…or, who knows, maybe they want to take over the world. I think they want a lot of things. But I also think there could be some of them who just want straight-up revenge, a payback for the ‘thank you for your service, here's a bullet in your head' the government gave them.”

“But how does this really connect Romia?”

“Romia isn't just one of them, that I know—”

“How?”

“I got a hunch and my hunches are never wrong.”

“So, who is Romia?”

“I have a sneaking suspicion she's real close to the Phoenix himself. I just got a gut feeling from a couple of things I read in the report. Also, think about it, why would they come after her if she wasn't?”

“Wish she hadn't killed those guys from outta town. They coulda at least told us why they were after her. Who were they anyway?”

“Don't know, but I want to put my money on mercenaries.”

“Hmmm. And Maxwell Huntington?”

Jim nodded. “Not sure about his side of the fence, either. But I do know he's using Romia to help his cause and I'm pretty sure it's a cause that isn't coming from a patriotic duty.”

“So you believe she's innocent, huh?”

Jim smiled. “Yeah. I do.”

“Me too. Especially now,” Tommy said, pointing to her cast leg up in the sling.

“So, what do you think's gonna happen next?” she asked after a moment of silence between them.

“I think it's a repeat of history, only this time the good guys aren't gonna be in charge.”

“As if they ever were.”

“Exactly.”