Juliet and Frida sat next to each other in the waiting room of Luna Critical Care—the trauma center contracted by the high-end medical plan Tanaka subscribed to for himself and his people. The “boss” was speaking to the center’s nightshift chief of staff, and everyone else was waiting to hear an update on Leo’s condition. Barns and Hawkins were outside, smoking what appeared to be real cigarettes, and Dora Lee was sitting by herself in the corner, her eyes glazed over as she did something on the net.
“He really started to wake up during the ride over?” Frida’s tremulous voice intruded on Juliet’s meandering thoughts.
“Yeah. According to her.” Juliet jerked her thumb at Belinda, who sat near the exit, her wrists firmly shrink-corded to her plastiglass chair. If the doll wasn’t lying, Leo had regained consciousness for a few seconds right before the trauma team, guided by Juliet, yanked him out of the town car and hauled him into their emergency bay.
Frida sighed, shaking her head. “Maybe she’s telling the truth. Maybe they accidentally OD’d him with that junk, and his nanites were working to clean it up.” The “junk” was some kind of cooked-up truth serum. Belinda claimed the club manager, who owned her contract, had been trying to get Leo to reveal his bit vault encryption keys. Apparently, Leo had been seeing her for a while—the “girlfriend” he’d been bragging about. He’d recently gotten an overzealous client to stop bothering her. When he tried to get her to leave the club and offered to buy out her contract, Ronnie Honda decided Leo had more money than was good for him and wanted to help him out with that little problem.
“Sure, she’s telling the truth about that. She’s also the one who lured Leo into a private booth equipped with an EMP pulse generator.” Belinda hadn’t wanted to spill that part of the story, but Juliet got it out of her. She stared at the doll, sitting there in her shiny pink dress, unending tears flowing down her cheeks, occasionally pulling at one of her bound wrists and sobbing.
“Thank you.” Frida suddenly snatched Juliet’s hand in hers, squeezing it tightly. She didn’t say anything more, and she didn’t need to. Leo was like a brother to her, and for a woman with no family and a hard-case mercenary for a surrogate dad, a brother was a big deal. Juliet squeezed her hand back, marveling at how soft her palms felt to her own calloused fingers.
“He’s going to be all right. Angel’s sure she recognized nanite activity in his brain. They were keeping his tissue alive.”
“Yeah.” Frida tried to force a smile, but it wavered. Still, she pressed on, “Tanaka’s nanites kept his brain going for hours.” Juliet couldn’t respond to that statement; she was the reason Tanaka’s nanites had to do that. She squeezed Frida’s palm again and leaned back, hoping they’d get some news soon. Frida was quiet for a minute, then said, “You know they know by now. They know if he’s going to live and how his brain is functioning. What are they waiting for?”
“I’m sure Tanaka’s getting some info. Just try to think about some . . .” Juliet’s words were cut short as her AUI pinged with a new message from Tanaka: Leo will be OK. Brain perfect. I’ll be out soon.
“Oh, thank God!” Frida breathed, apparently seeing the same message. She turned and hugged Juliet, burying her face in her shoulder. Juliet smiled and gently stroked the back of her head. Just then, the doors whooshed open, and Barns and Hawkins came in.
Barns was his usual charming self as he pumped a fist. “Fuck yes! Nice one, Lucky! You saved his dumb ass!” Hawkins just smiled and gave her a thumbs-up, then walked over to sit by Dora, still lost in cyberspace.
“H-he’s okay?” Belinda asked tremulously.
“Not okay, bimbo,” Barns growled, “but I guess he’s not gonna die.”
Juliet sighed, finding a kernel of empathy growing in her heart for the young woman now that she knew Leo would recover. She hadn’t been kind to her back in the club or when she’d been looking for answers about what happened to Leo. “Hey, Barns, lay off her. I was mean enough.”
“We’ll see. Depends on what Leo’s got to say. Speaking of, I’m probably going to head out. Tell the bonehead I’ll visit in the morning.” He didn’t wait for a response, turning and walking straight back out the automatic doors.
Juliet snorted. “I love how he assumes we’re all going to wait to see him.”
“Not all, but he knows I’ll be here,” Frida sighed, sitting up straight and wiping Juliet’s shoulder. It was a futile gesture; her jacket wasn’t exactly clean.
Juliet laughed, pushing her hand away. “Did you not see the blood stains?”
Frida’s eyes widened, and she really looked at Juliet for the first time, taking in the streaks and spatters of blood on the front of her jacket and sleeves and then the shredded, blood-stained condition of her right pant leg. “I was so worried about Leo, and you seemed fine. Are you? Fine?”
“Yeah. I’m going to need a new motorcycle helmet, but I’ll be okay—just flesh wounds. I mean, I needed some new scars in my collection, yeah?” The truth was, her hip hurt like hell, and she knew her nanites were still working to break down bullet fragments from the SMG round that had shattered against her reinforced hip bone. Before Frida could respond to her attempt at humor, the door leading into the trauma center opened, and Tanaka walked out.
He nodded to Juliet and Frida, then over at Hawkins and Lee, and said, “You got my message?”
“What about his organs?” Frida asked, leaping to her feet and moving to stand before the grim-faced mercenary. Juliet also stood—a bit more slowly—and approached, hiding her inward grimace as something ground in her hip.
Angel spoke up for the first time in a while, “Don’t be alarmed, Juliet. The nanites will have those fragments out before you wake up tomorrow.”
“I’m not worried,” she subvocalized.
Tanaka, meanwhile, answered Frida: “Most of his organs suffered some damage, but they believe a nanite and nutrient infusion for the next week will see a ninety-percent recovery. They’re most concerned about his heart and kidneys—the effects of the oxygen deprivation were pronounced. His package will cover replacements if necessary.”
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
“Is he awake?” Juliet asked.
“No. Induced coma. He’ll be out for the next forty-eight hours. You should all go get some rest.” He focused on Juliet, his eyes scanning her, fully taking in her state for the first time since he’d arrived. “You did well. I’ve ensured LCS knows you were rescuing a kidnapping victim and provided a statement indicating you were working for me. Your friend, Hines, already reached out; they’ve been monitoring that club for months for human trafficking.”
“Uh-huh, but they never did anything about it?” Juliet snorted. “Well, Hines hasn’t been lieutenant for too long, so I’ll cut him a little slack, but I imagine quite a few detectives got a ‘bonus’ from Ronnie Honda.” Juliet jerked her thumb toward Belinda, still quietly weeping by the door. “What do you wanna do with her?”
“I’ll take her,” Frida said.
“Huh?” Juliet looked at Frida with raised eyebrows, and Tanaka’s eyes narrowed in a scowl.
Frida hurriedly explained, “If Leo was trying to help her, he must have liked something about her. Maybe they forced her to lure him into a trap. Maybe they didn’t even tell her an EMP was in the booth. I mean, you said she had her hands tied when you found Leo, right?”
Juliet nodded. “Yeah.” She knew she could find out. She could take that woman into a room and dig through her mind, getting to the truth, but lately, she’d liked that idea less and less, and she knew the reason was selfish—she couldn’t stop thinking about how it felt like her previous deep dives had altered her in some permanent manner. If Tono had messed up her notion of what real love was, what would she experience inside the head of a woman like Belinda, someone who’d worked as a doll and, likely, hadn’t exactly been a willing participant the whole time? Was she being a coward? Was she putting Frida at risk? Gritting her teeth, Juliet turned and walked over to her.
“What, um, what’s going to happen to Leo?” Belinda asked as she approached, her tears mingling with clear snot. She tried to wipe her face on her shoulder, but her skimpy dress didn’t give her much material to work with, and she just smeared her shoulder with the mess. Juliet sighed, reached down to the shrink cord, extended her vibroblade nail, and snipped it. Some tissues were on the little coffee table in front of the bank of chairs, and Juliet handed the box to her.
“Clean your face off and look in my eyes.” She squatted in front of her, waiting for the woman to finish wiping her nose and focus on her. Juliet loved the color of her irises—turquoise blue with tiny flecks of something reflective. “Remember that color, Angel. I might want to copy it sometime.”
“Noted. Um, be careful, Juliet.” Angel knew what she was about to do.
“I’m not planning to go deep,” she subvocalized. She was aware that Tanaka and Frida had approached, standing close behind her, but she tuned them out and stared into Belinda’s eyes. “Don’t say anything. Just look in my eyes and think about this question. Did you know they were going to hurt Leo?”
“N-no, I . . .”
“I said, don’t say anything! Just think about it. Think about your role in this little mess.” As Juliet sharply cut her off, Belinda’s lips began to tremble, and Juliet could tell she was about to start sobbing again. She tried to take the menace out of her expression, smoothing out her brow and even offering a half smile. Much more softly, she said, “Try to relax. I just want to read you a little. I’m good at reading people.”
Belinda took a deep, ragged breath and stared into Juliet’s eyes. Like whispers on a breeze, Juliet started to hear fragmented thoughts faintly echoing in Belinda’s voice. Oh, please. Can’t I just go? Can’t I just get away? Leo. Oh, God! Leo! I hope he’s okay. He was so nice, and Ronnie almost killed him! Why is she staring at me like that? What does she see? Can she tell I’m a coward? Can she tell I’m rotten, that I helped Ronnie so he’d reduce my debt? I tried to stop him, though! I tried! I scratched the shit out of his neck! He tied me up! Isn’t that in my favor? How long do I have to stare at her? Won’t she just let me talk?
Juliet sighed and closed her eyes, shaking her head before she slipped any deeper into Belinda’s mind. When she opened them again, she asked, “So, listen. You see that pretty redhead behind me?”
“Y-yes.”
“She’s going to take you somewhere to get cleaned up and get some rest. You’re going to tell her everything you know about Ronnie and his operation. He’s dead. His goons are dead or on the run. You don’t have to hide anything. We know you helped him, but we also know you didn’t want to. Just be honest and patient, and when Leo wakes up, we’ll ask him if he wants to see you, okay?”
“You . . . you know all that?”
Before Juliet could answer, Frida leaned forward. “I’m Frida. How would you like to get cleaned up and put some nice, cozy clothes on?” She turned to Juliet. “Can you cut her loose?” Juliet nodded and reached out to snip the other cord. The little blade extended and retracted very quickly, and it almost looked like she was cutting the tough polymer band with her fingernail. She figured, given time, she probably could cut through one with her other nails. She stood and nodded at Frida, who took Belinda’s wrist and led her toward the door.
Before walking through, Frida turned and looked at Tanaka. “I’ll be back in the morning to sit by his side.”
“Hai.” Like everyone else, Tanaka knew arguing would be pointless. Frida wouldn’t care if Leo was in a coma, slowly healing; she’d be there for him. Juliet watched them leave, and then she turned back to the boss.
She didn’t know exactly what she wanted to say, but some vague, nebulous guilt welled up. Maybe it was a response to her rejecting Leo or their constant teasing of each other, but she felt like confessing. “He shouldn’t have been in that mess. I feel sort of respons . . .”
“No. It’s my fault,” Tanaka sighed. “He had asked me for help with his girl a couple of times. He wanted to treat it like a job, and I kept putting him off. We fought about it earlier today. I’ve been too focused on . . .”
“On my shit.” Juliet frowned, her guilt surging to new heights now that she realized there was something to it.
“On other things. I didn’t take him seriously, but, you know, that’s his fault. He got caught up in frivolous pursuits many times over the years . . .” He seemed to make a connection as he spoke and, to Juliet’s dismay, swayed a little on his feet and had to reach out to grasp her shoulder for support. “Dammit. They weren’t frivolous; I was just focused on money and reputation. Were his other distractions as meaningful as this? That poor woman . . .”
“All right, all right.” Juliet grabbed his other shoulder. She glanced over at Hawkins and Lee, noting the hard-case mercenary narrowing his eyes, staring at them, while Dora still gazed into empty space. Juliet looked back at Tanaka, squeezing his shoulder. “Let it go. What’s done is done. Leo’s going to recover, and you’ve learned something about him and yourself. Me too.”
Tanaka nodded, seemed to steady himself with a conscious effort of will, and then gestured to the door. “Walk with me to my sedan. We should talk about what you learned today. Frida told me you located your old friend.” Juliet nodded, and together, they left the trauma center, walking into the cool night air. She could see his black sedan down the block, double parked, with the hazard lights flashing. As soon as they’d put a few meters between themselves and the people lingering around the doors, waiting for news of friends and loved ones, he asked, “Where is she? Colorado?”
“Yep. In some kind of commune.”
“You probably can’t share how you found her, hmm?”
“Um, let’s just say I picked up her image on some cam footage going in and out of that place and leave it at that.”
“Are you ready to move on this?” They were about halfway to his car; no one else was nearby, and he paused, turning to look her in the eyes.
“I am, but Leo . . .”
“Will be out of commission for a while. I’ll send the rest of the team with you; they can all use the distraction. Frida can manage things from here. Better if you take your own ship down rather than a shuttle. You can get a flight clearance and berth it at the New Denver Port. It’s an interceptor, right? Room for three passengers?”
“Yeah, for a quick trip. I wouldn’t want to fly to Jupiter with that many people . . .” The Lady Hawk had two acceleration couches in the cockpit and two small bunks, so, theoretically, if people swapped shifts, they could travel anywhere in the system with four crew. Two was a lot more comfortable, though. Of course, the Cherry Blossom could handle a lot more people, but Juliet was only a partial owner of the gunship and didn’t think it would be exactly cool to use it for her own business. “Why do you think we shouldn’t take a shuttle?”
“Flexibility.” He didn’t say anything more, but Juliet could connect the dots. If they needed to leave in a hurry, filing a flight plan was easier than waiting for a shuttle schedule. Moreover, they could travel to any destination on Earth in a few hours, provided they got clearance.
“Okay. When?”
“Tomorrow. Give yourself and the others time to get a full eight hours of sleep, prep your ship, and allow Frida to file for clearances and licenses. I’d say plan on leaving in the early evening or late afternoon; it’ll depend on how fast the local jurisdictions clear your passage.”
Juliet nodded, a little adrenaline leaking into her system. Was this really happening so fast? Was she about to go find Ghoul and actually confront WBD? Forget that! Was she about to fly an interceptor down into Earth’s atmosphere? A stupid grin started spreading on her face. “Man, I wish I could show my old friends the Lady.”
“Your ship?” Tanaka smirked. “They’d be impressed?”
“Oh, you have no idea. I used to have to beg people for rides to and from work.”
“Well, keep focused. Speaking of which, are you going to send me the footage of Leo’s rescue?”
“Um,” Juliet blushed. “I wasn’t exactly tactical. I guess I was worried about him—I could feel it in my gut; he was in trouble.”
Tanaka nodded and jerked his head back toward the trauma center. “Like you assessed that woman? Your gut? You believed her?”
“Yeah. I know it sounds dumb, but I . . .”
“Trust your instincts.” He nodded. “It’s not stupid. That’s the sort of thing that separates a legendary fighter from an excellent one, an ace pilot from a great pilot.” He slowly, deliberately reached up and tapped his pointer finger in the middle of Juliet’s chest. “Trust what’s in here. I’m looking forward to learning more about you—let’s get this job done.”