Page 93 of The Vigilante's Lover

The door opens and Mia stands there, looking apprehensive and alone.

She made it down. I knew she would.

Jovana spots her. “And look, now we have our rogue special, who has been running amok in the headquarters.”

A screen changes above her head. It shows footage of Mia shooting Sutherland with the dart gun. He goes down instantly.

“Well, look at that,” Jovana says. “It seems she just shot our Head of Syndicate.”

Mia steps forward. “It was just a drug. It will wear off.”

Jovana shakes her head. “Doesn’t look like it to me.”

The screen flashes “Subject deceased.”

Mia seems to find her stride then and walks slowly and purposefully toward Jovana. “It’s the same poison that fooled everyone with Jax.” She waves at me. “And he’s still standing.”

The room visibly relaxes.

An elderly lady at the end of the table taps her cane against the edge. “This is no meeting for a special,” she says. “She’s untrained and a distraction from the work we must discuss here.”

“Thank you,” Jovana says.

“Aren’t you a special?” Mia shoots back.

“I’m a trained Vigilante who was given special dispensation,” Jovana says smoothly. She makes eye contact with the room, as any commanding speaker should.

I have to hand it to her. She’s got this committee listening.

Jovana’s voice is practically a purr now. “This puts me in the perfect position to carry out Sutherland’s vision with competence and skill. Unlike this messy business he’s gotten us into.”

I scan the room. Sam’s intel was wrong, or else the second exit he mentioned is invisible. The War Room is lined with perfect steel, no seams, no lines, as if it was formed right here. The only break is the door. The roof curves upward in a dome shape, the banks of screens angling down.

As far as I can tell, no one can get in or out except through that single door.

Not that I’m interested in leaving. This has been a highly engrossing half hour.

Mia comes close to me and tugs at my hand. Several committee members take note of the gesture. I don’t let go, even though she is telegraphing our allegiance.

Another committee member, a strong-jawed man in his late fifties, speaks up next. “What should we do with the special and Mr. De Luca?”

Jovana leans into the table again. “We should continue this hard line against Vigilante murder,” she says. “We’ll execute him properly, as should have been done to begin with, and then we’ll clean up this mess we have overseas.”

The room quiets.

“Who was next in line for Sutherland’s command?” the elderly woman asks.

Jovana smacks the table. “It doesn’t matter! This is a new order for the Vigilante code. The old ways have not grown and expanded to manage the new information superstorage we have at our command. We need a global network, and we are perfectly suited to manage it from here.”

The committee members start rumbling among themselves.

“What should we do?” Mia whispers in my ear.

“Just hang tight,” I say. None of this has played out the way I expected.

“But they said they would execute you,” Mia protests.

“I’ll be fine,” I say.

Another elderly lady stands up with slow, easy grace.

“Ms. Lukova, while we appreciate the vision you have presented to us, I see no reason to go off on this venture half-cocked. We’ve had significant strife in the past twenty-four hours.

I propose we delay this meeting until we can sort through the chaos. ”

The other members of the committee murmur in agreement, other than the cane lady at the end of the table, who scowls.

The gentleman who spoke earlier says, “I say we bring this to a voice-authenticated vote. Every action of this committee regarding structure and leadership must be unanimous.”

More murmurs.

“System,” the man says. “Prepare the vote.”

The screens above show seven photographs matching the committee members at the table. Next to them are large green and red boxes with “Yes” and “No” inside.

“Nay,” says the man. A digital audiowave checks his voice, then a check mark appears next to “No.”

The poised older woman is next. “Nay.”

Her voice is authenticated as well.

“That’s enough,” Jovana snaps.

She steps back from the table. I recognize the smirk on her face and immediately my senses go on alert. She’s about to do something unexpected.

She coughs into her hand as if she’s swallowed something. “Water, please,” she chokes out, waving to a pitcher at the end of the table.

The elderly man picks up the pitcher, plucking it from a circle of glasses.

My neck hair prickles. Why is she asking for this now? The timing is off.

I pull Mia to me. Something’s wrong with the water, the way it pours. It’s too slow. The man sees it too, he’s trained, but he’s too late. The first splash hits the bottom of the glass and the room fills with the sound of an explosion.

I drag Mia to the floor. The boom is deafening. Smoke fills the air.

“Lockdown!” I hear Jovana cry.

The system responds, and the lights over the door go out.

The screens all change as scanners go through the room, seeking out damage. Next to each committee member is a health report. The sound of coughing and choking drowns out everything.

The explosion was small, but the smoke and chemical gas are debilitating. I pull a handkerchief out of my pocket and press it to Mia’s mouth.

One of the committee members tries to open the door, but it’s sealed shut.

“System,” one shouts. “Open the door.”

The screens flash. “Lockdown activated. Unanimous authentication required.”

“What’s that?” Mia asks.

I can barely make her out in the smoke. “During lockdown, the system requires everyone to agree to open the doors. Safety precaution.”

The scanners continue to assess damage, listing concerns.

Respiration labored.

Third-degree burns.

Something catches my eye and I see Jovana climbing a synthetic rope toward a hatch in the ceiling.

The other exit.

I stand up to go after her, but Klaus spots me and slams a fist into my face. I push Mia out of the way as I turn to fight him.

“I’m not drugged this time, Klaus,” I say to him.

He delivers a roundhouse kick to my legs, but I easily turn aside and grab his knee, twisting him down onto the floor.

I look up. Jovana’s at the hatch.

But Mia is right behind her.

The screens flash, waiting for authentication. “Open,” a feeble voice calls out.

A check mark appears by the image of one woman.

The others start to find their voices. “Open,” cries another. Then another.

The check marks appear as the scanners finish their round.

The last image is the man who poured the water. An arrow pulses by his name. Then it switches to “Deceased.”

Klaus jumps up and lands a punch while I’m wondering how we’ll unlock the door if we require a unanimous vote from a dead man.

I bend over, accepting the blow, and decide I’ve had enough of him. I spin into an elbow to his gut, then a hard uppercut to his jaw, enough to cause a concussion. He goes down hard. Klaus never was a fighter.

I look up. Mia has tied several knots around Jovana’s ankles, stopping her. Jovana is trying to undo them, awkwardly, hanging from the rope, but the knots are good.

That’s my girl.

“We can’t get out,” a woman next to me says. “Duran is dead.”

The screen flashes another warning. “Air contamination reaching critical levels.”

One of the men near me collapses on the table.

“System,” someone calls. “Move Duran to next in command.”

Duran’s image slides to another screen, still pulsing a red “Deceased.”

The scanners register the other occupants of the room. Klaus. Jovana. Me. Mia.

Klaus’s image moves to another screen with the words “Reported deceased. Situation unknown.”

Then so does mine, alongside the words “Reported executed. Situation unknown.”

Jovana laughs from above. “I’m next in command. I’m not letting you out. When you are all dead, I’ll be in charge anyway.” She kicks at the knots.

But the screen drops in the picture of Mia.

“Next in command, Mia Morrow.”

“Open the door,” Mia calls out.

A check box appears. Behind us, the sealed door hisses on its pneumatic seal.

Immediately a medic trolley rolls in, followed by a dozen armed guards.

It’s chaos in the smoke and crowd as committee members are helped through the door.

Blowers begin sucking the air from the room. At the top hatch, Jovana still struggles with the knots on her legs.

Mia lands on the center of the table and jumps toward me.

I catch her.

“You’re on the committee,” I say to her.

“Does that mean I get to boss you around?” she says.

I drag her in close to me. “I am at your mercy.”

I hold her tight, watching the guards evacuate the men and women. The air is already almost clear.

“Cut that one down,” I say, pointing up at the hatch.

The guard standing near looks up. “Cut who?”

Mia and I look up.

Jovana is gone.