Читать книгу Rogue - Julie Kagawa - Страница 12

Cobalt

Twelve years ago

1:18 a.m.

I slipped out the second-story window and dropped silently to the ground. Behind me, the office building remained dark, empty, as I leaned against the cement wall and dug my phone out of my pocket.

“It’s done,” I muttered into the speaker. “Everything is wired to explode. I just need confirmation that the building is empty before I detonate.”

“Roger that” came the voice on the other end. “Building is empty, the only thing left is the security guard outside. You are clear to proceed when ready.”

“Are you sure?” I growled, my voice hard. “I don’t want a repeat of what happened in Dublin. Are you absolutely certain there are no civilians inside?”

“That’s an affirmative. The building is clear. Waiting on your signal.”

“All right.” I stepped away from the wall. “Leaving the premises now. I’ll report in again when it’s done. Cobalt out.”

Lowering the phone, I gazed across the empty parking lot, thinking. It would be easy enough to slip through the fence, cross the street and vanish into the darkness without anyone knowing I was here. In fact, that was what Talon expected, what I was supposed to do. They chose me for these missions because I was damn good at my job—infiltrate a target, steal or plant whatever I was supposed to and get out again. All without being seen or leaving any evidence behind. I was probably the youngest Basilisk to infiltrate Talon’s enemies, and I was here only because the last Basilisk sent out on assignment never returned. But I kept completing missions, and the organization kept sending me on more, regardless of danger, time or my personal feelings. I didn’t know what this particular company had done to earn Talon’s wrath, and I didn’t want to know. Better not to ask questions; it was easier that way. But Talon required me to finish this assignment, and I knew what I had to do now.

Instead, I turned and headed toward the front of the building, following the wall until I found what I was looking for. A pudgy man in a blue-and-black uniform, silver flashlight dangling off his belt, sat in a chair near the front entrance. His arms were crossed, and his large chin rested on his chest as he sat there, eyes closed. I snorted.

Sleeping on the job, Mr. Rent-A-Cop? What would your employers have to say about that?

Bending down, I picked a pebble off the ground, tossed it in one hand and hurled it at the security guard. It struck his forehead and bounced off, and the human jerked up with a snort, nearly falling out of the chair. Flailing his arms, he glared around, then straightened as he spotted me, waiting in the shadows. I grinned at him and waved.

“Hey! Stop right there!”

I laughed and sprinted away as the guard scrambled after me. I jogged across the parking lot, making sure not to run too fast. Didn’t want him to give up the chase just yet. Pulling out my phone, I clicked it on and began dialing a sequence of numbers, the gasping, panting voice of the guard echoing behind me.

“You there! Freeze! I’m warning you…”

Sorry, human. I reached the chain-link fence surrounding the property and leaped for the top, hitting the post and vaulting over with one hand. My thumb hovered over the final button as I walked swiftly away, hearing the guard reach the fence and pause, not bothering to pull himself up. This is going to be a bad night for you. But at least you’ll be alive. That’s the most you can hope for when crossing paths with Talon.

I pressed the button.

A massive fireball rocked the air behind me, blowing out windows, shattering walls, sending pieces of the roof flying as the building erupted in a gout of flame. I felt the blast of energy toss my hair and clothes, and didn’t look back. Crossing the street, I slipped the phone into my pocket and melted into the darkness, leaving the structure burning behind me and one dazed rent-a-cop staring in dumbfounded amazement.

* * *

I reached my hotel room less than an hour later. Stripping out of my black work clothes, I changed quickly, then flipped on the news. The image showed the burned, demolished remains of the building I’d just left, surrounded by people and flashing lights. The words on the bottom of the television read: “Live: Mysterious explosion destroys office complex.” I sank onto the bed, watching grimly as a reporter’s voice filtered from the TV.

“…happened around 1:00 a.m. this morning,” the voice announced, as the image flipped to a bird’s-eye view of the demolished rooftop, gaping holes crumbling into darkness. “Thankfully, all the regular employees were gone, but we are getting reports that the janitorial staff was in the building when it exploded. Rescue teams are on the scene now…”

No. I clenched a fist on my leg, horror and rage flooding my body. Leaping upright, I snatched my phone from the bed, dialed a number and stood there, shaking, until someone picked up.

“Well done, agent,” the voice on the other end greeted. “We saw the reports. Talon will be—”

“What the hell happened?” I snarled, interrupting him. “The building was supposed to be empty! They swore to me it was clear. No one was supposed to be inside.”

A pause. “Talon weighed the information and decided that the assignment would go forward as planned,” the voice said in a stiff, flat tone. “The loss of civilian life is…regrettable, but necessary.”

“Like hell it was! They told me the building was clear.”

“It is not your place to question the organization, agent.” Now the voice sounded angry. “Nor is it your job to know the details. Your job is to obey. You’ve performed as Talon wished, and the mission was a success. This conversation is over.”

The line went dead.

I lowered the phone, seething. Sinking onto the bed again, I stared at the television, watching humans and rescue dogs paw through the smoldering ruins, listening as a reporter interviewed the guard I’d saved. He credited himself with chasing the alleged bomber through the building and across the parking lot and made the pursuit sound much closer than it actually had been. But he did describe me as a young white male with dark hair, dressed all in black, and the police were on the lookout for anyone matching that description. They wouldn’t find me, of course. I didn’t exist in their systems; as far as the humans could tell, I was a ghost. By the time the authorities even got close to this hotel, I’d be on the other side of the country. Back to the war they couldn’t see.

Back to Talon.

I ground my teeth, tempted to hurl the phone at the wall, or maybe the television so that I wouldn’t have to see the aftermath of what I’d caused. Dammit. This wasn’t the first time something like this had happened, but it was the first time Talon had outright lied to me. Before, there had been suspicious happenstance, crossed communications, orders that could’ve been misinterpreted or reasoned away. Not this time. Talon had assured me that building was clear; I would have never pressed that button if it wasn’t.

And they knew it, too.

Sickened, I switched off the TV and flopped back on the bed, dragging my hands down my face. What now? How could I go on like this, knowing Talon would lie, that they would use me and more innocent people would get caught in the cross fire?

I could hear my trainer’s thin, high voice echoing in my head, mocking me. There is no such thing as an “innocent casualty,” agent, it said. This is a war, and people will die. That is the ugly truth of it. A few human deaths should not concern you.

But they did. A lot. Maybe I was the exception; maybe no other dragon in Talon cared if a few janitors were killed because they had been at the wrong place at the wrong time. But I did. And now more people were dead because of me.

My phone vibrated beside me on the quilt. Sitting up, I grabbed it as the screen came to life, showing a new message.

Stop moping, it read, indicating no one but my trainer, the Chief Basilisk himself. Brusque and to the point as always, but somehow finding ways to insult me. A car will be at your location in five minutes. You have a new assignment.

Another mission? So soon? Dammit, I had just barely completed this one, and I was tired. More than tired. Sickened. Numb. Furious. Both with myself and with Talon. I didn’t want to go back. I wanted to lock myself in a room and drink an insane amount of alcohol, until the scene on the news faded out of my mind. I’d be equally happy to stalk into an office and ream someone out, possibly with fire and a lot of cuss words. The last thing I wanted was to be called back for another assignment.

But what else could I do?

Methodically, I rose and began packing my things. Talon’s word was law; the opinions of a juvenile Basilisk agent didn’t concern them. They would send me out on another mission, and they would continue to do so, regardless of what I wanted. But I had the ominous, sneaking suspicion that I was reaching the limit of how far I could be pushed, used, lied to. One word hovered at the back of my mind, constant and terrifying, appearing in my thoughts no matter how hard I tried to shove it back.

Rogue.