Page 89 of The Vigilante's Lover

What am I missing?

Colette continues to drive us toward the committee headquarters. Sam wires more off-grid tech into the car. Even Mia seems ready, pointing her dart gun at the windows and practicing a steady aim.

But my mind whirs. Jovana was recruited almost two years ago. Had to be, since she was set up in that slave bunker by the time I met her. Sutherland, or someone close to him, had to have falsified her information on the network.

After we blew up the sex slave operation, I didn’t think I’d see her again, but she showed up two days later, picked up by a Phase Three. She was blubbering about the “hero who had bought her.”

I took her in.

She behaved so believably, broken by her training, no longer saucy and spirited. That was the personality they had forced on her, she said.

In jail, thinking this over, I knew they had reviewed recordings of our interactions and decided that she had taken the wrong tack with me.

So they came up with a new approach. I had no illusions by then that she had ever cared about me, or that the relationship we forged from her alleged “recovery” was real.

I just wanted revenge.

I had no idea how big this was. What a small role Jovana was actually playing in the overarching plot.

But why now? What is going on at HQ that Sutherland needs to stage this sort of grand-scale takeover?

“All right,” Sam says, interrupting my thoughts. “Here’s the overall layout of the facility.” He brings up a map on the screen. “The committee members all have assigned entrances. Nobody comes in the same way.” He points at yellow boxes. “Sutherland’s offices are here.” He jabs at a green section.

“The so-called War Room is over in this area.” It lights up red. “Six floors underground. Two entrances. Both will have scanners. None of us with kill orders are going to be eligible to pass through.” Sam glances back at us.

“So you’re relying on me to get in?” Mia asks.

“Not sure that even you can make it,” Sam says. “But at least the security won’t snuff you as soon as you hit the first scan.”

“They have that sort of system?” Colette asks.

“Hell yeah,” Sam says. “Darts on every entrance.”

“We should carry antidotes with us,” Colette says.

“Yes,” Sam says. “Although they may have their own cocktail.”

“Great,” she mutters. “Two darts in a day.”

Sam hands me one of his pass keys, the type I used on the Missouri silo and the civilian car. “These have been very useful,” I tell him.

“It isn’t going to work anywhere important, but it will help you move around the building,” he says. “Just don’t expect it to stop any scanners or darts.”

I nod. I tuck the clear strip into a pocket. “I’ve verified that the weapon sweeps don’t catch it.”

Sam nods. “Good.”

Both he and Colette look up as the HQ building looms ahead.

It’s a nondescript office building for a financial services company.

But only the lobby and a few fake offices continue the ruse.

The upper floors are all administrative, development, and tech offices.

Below is where all the real action is. Steel and concrete bunkers with the mother lode of security.

Nobody gets out of there if the system itself doesn’t want it. It’s nominally monitored by humans, but the heart of the algorithm is determined by risk assessment and the information network that runs the U.S. syndicate.

And this computer system isn’t going to care for us one bit.

“So do we just park out front?” Colette asks.

“Blend in with civilian traffic,” Sam says.

We drive along the street and turn a corner to continue circling the building. “There’s a hotel,” I tell Colette. “Park in their garage. When we get out of this, we can meet back up here or get back together in two days in our usual spot.”

“What’s the usual spot?” Mia asks.

“You’ll be with me,” I tell her. “I’ll take you there.”

“Should I know what it is?” Her voice is laced with panic.

Sam turns around in his seat. “A doughnut shop in Portland, Oregon. Voodoo.” He lifts his case, which bears a sticker that says “I got VD in Portland.”

Colette shakes her head. “I’d complain, but I love my Dirty Snowballs.”

“Dirty Snowballs,” Sam says reverently.

“Can we go kick some ass now?” Mia asks.

I squeeze her hand. “Sam and Colette, you go in the entrance designated for Marie Augusta.” Sam looks at me. “She’s in a wheelchair, so that one has slightly reprogrammed security. Might be easier to circumvent.”

“Where are you headed, boss?” Sam asks.

“I have a hunch that when Mia goes in, something’s going to happen that will muddy the security network. Plus, I’m supposedly dead. I’m waltzing right in the front door with her.”

Sam nods. “I’ll tap into the computer first shot I get. No telling when that will be. What’s the endgame?”

“The War Room,” I say. “Let’s shake up the committee. Stop this thing.”

“Or die trying,” Sam says.

“Nobody’s dying today,” I remind him.

Colette parks the car in a dark corner of the garage. She pats the steering wheel affectionately. “I’ll be back for you,” she tells it.

I open my door. “We’ll separate here,” I tell them.

Colette heads out of the car and opens her trunk. “Let’s take all I’ve got.” She passes a slender case of vials to Jax.

“Where’s that bag?” I ask Mia.

She heads to the backseat of the car to fetch it.

When she returns, Colette dumps several vials in. “They’re unbreakable, so don’t worry,” she tells Mia. She packs a second set in Sam’s tech bag.

“So I have one antidote for each dart, plus three of the new darts that don’t need them,” Mia says.

“That’s right,” Colette says. She kisses both of Mia’s cheeks. “Stay strong and be smart.”

Mia nods, and I can see her eyes tearing up a little.

Sam shakes my hand. “Good luck.”

Mia hides her dart gun in her jacket. I don’t know if security will let her take it in. I don’t know how security is going to react to her at all.

Colette and Sam head out the opposite side of the garage.

Mia and I walk down the entrance ramp and out into the sunny afternoon.

It’s late in the day. By the time we get done with this job, it will be night.

I try not to think ahead. I’ve never gone into a situation with less of a plan than I have now.

We take our time walking the block back to the entrance of the office building. It’s not terribly tall, four floors, and nondescript gray brick and steel. Mia’s grip on my hand tightens as we approach the glass entrance. “What if they shoot us immediately?”

“Nothing will happen, not out here,” I assure her. But I keep an eye on the scanner above us. It’s already reading our heat signatures with an invisible beam.

I open the door.

Whatever’s going to happen to us will occur inside.