NATURE RESERVE, CYAN AREA OF THE CITY
7:26 P.M.
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Adam descended, returning to the ground; he leaned against a tree, took a seat on the grass, and stayed there.
Making sure he was safe, that he wouldn’t see his enemy get to his feet once he relaxed, he glanced quickly at Kitten. From there, he couldn’t tell if he had just knocked him out... or killed him; he didn’t hear him complain or see him move; the big man lay there, sprawled on his back.
Dead or alive, Kitten wouldn’t get up, at least not for now.
He looked at his left hand; at some point, he had lost the splint that covered his index finger. Whatever! Every part of his body ached with the same intensity.
Slowly, careful not to make a wrong move that might unleash more pain in him, he opened his torn sports jacket, pulled up his T-shirt, and studied the blow he had received on his belly, near his ribs. What he managed to see was an ugly, purplish stain next to the previous bruise, the one that had been done days before while training with Malin. It hurt quite a bit, though not enough to think that there was considerable damage behind it. Or perhaps there were, and he was so numb from so many blows that he didn’t notice it?
What he did notice were some loose teeth dancing in his mouth, and he hated the giant’s guts.
A few feet from him, sticking out of the grass, was the destroyed Cyclops; its head ripped off, a little further away. It was a miracle he didn’t end up like this. Another miracle would be that he had no broken bones; he would see that later when a doctor examines him. He coughed, choked on his own blood, and suffered stitches in different parts of his chest.
If he had known how to use his powers, he would have come out better off in the fight. Juzo had fulfilled once again with his superhero-to-the-rescue role, and although something told him that his brother would always help him, he feared that Juzo would only do so at the last moment, not before, and the time factor was a luxury that, after this experience, he could no longer afford. Maybe he wouldn’t make it out alive if he were ambushed one next time. He had to learn to control his powers. It was time to get serious about the training Malin was demanding of him.
Staggering, he went for his phone, which had been thrown around when he was first punched. Even though the lighting was dim here, a hint of the lights from the nearby buildings and what was left of the evening light, with a little luck, remembering where he had been when he had lost it, it didn’t take long to find it. The grass had cushioned the fall, and the small device was still working. He hit autodial and called Malin.
He never felt so pleased to hear her reproaching him, “Hey, you jerk! You hung up on me before I—”
“I’ll wait for you at the reserve... you know where,” he interrupted her, speaking slowly because he was short of breath, and almost without opening his mouth so his jaw wouldn’t ache more than it already did. “I don’t feel good… to go back home by myself…”
“What happened?!”
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“An orangutan… gave me… a beating.”
“I’m coming over! I’ll be there in a minute!” she said.
“Wait!” he stopped her. He waited for a second, and when he realized she was still online, he said, “Bring my medical assistance card with you… I left it on the kitchen table. I’ll see an emergency doctor… I don’t want my face to be swollen.”
Silence on the line.
“Once a runway model, always a runway model,” Malin said and clicked off.
Adam leaned back against a tree; and while he waited for Malin to arrive, he stayed alert in case Kitten got up.
Minutes passed, the longest minutes of his life, in which he couldn’t think about anything but the pain and the dizziness; and even had to tolerate some annoying mosquitoes.
Until, in the undergrowth, footsteps approached him. Malin?
He peered into the darkness of the vegetation. Two men came from the other side of the pond, some sixty or ninety feet from him. He squinted to see better and turned his hands into fists. Who the hell were they and what were they doing there? Dealers about to close a purchase? Two guys wanting to have a fun time alone?
The strangers stopped by the shore and watched him from there.
From the way they were dressed, in a completely gray suit and tie, and the blank expression on their faces, with their eyes hidden behind dark glasses, Adam knew they weren’t just nosy guys or any of the things he’d just imagined. They didn’t look like Broga’s thugs either, nor did they look like they were coming looking for a fight; they looked too neat and serious for that; they looked more like members of a government agency or something. Either way, he didn’t trust appearances, and forgetting his wounds, he stood up and prepared to face whatever.
“Didn’t anyone tell you how ridiculous you guys look with dark glasses at this time of night?” he said, opening the talk. The pain that weighed on him was significant, but with effort and mental acuity, he managed to hold his breath so that his voice didn’t tremble.
“We were following you, Mr. White,” one of the two men said.
“And the little show you orchestrated made it easy for us to find you,” the other said.
Adam took a long, deep breath. “Sorry. That show was a necessary action to save my life,” he said. “Who are you?”
“Satellite agents,” Malin called them, appearing from the bushes beside him.
Supporting the statement, the men in gray showed their IDs.
“Satellite Agency of the Rodinian Research Center,” said one. “We need to talk to you, Mr. White.”
Malin stopped cold and pivoted toward them. “With him?” She was puzzled. “My dears, I must say, I’m surprised. I thought you had finally decided to come for me.”
“We are aware of your movements, Miss Viveka,” the other agent replied, and pointed at Adam with his chin. “But the one who interests us now is him.”
Adam snorted; he didn’t like the arrogance of those two. However, judging by Malin’s seriousness and the way she had crossed her arms as if she were waiting for bad news, he knew that Satellite agents, whoever they were, were not individuals to take lightly. Their presence meant trouble, that’s for sure; a kind of trouble different from what Kitten had caused to him, but trouble anyway.
Then, he recalled how reluctant Malin had been a few days ago when he’d offered to take her to the hospital to have the wound on her back treated. “These are the other vultures you feared, right?” he whispered to her.
Malin said nothing; her silence was an affirmation.
“Gentlemen…” Adam addressed them, exposing the sharpest sarcasm that his sorry state could offer. “Considering what you ask of me, seeing me in the condition I’m in, I must tell you, you guys lack courtesy.” He ran his fingers across the corner of his mouth, wiping the blood from his split lip. “You didn’t tell me my mouth was dirty, and you didn’t even offer me a tissue to clean me up.”
One of the Agents was about to mention something and—
“Uh-uh,” Adam stopped him. “I’ve no problem hearing what you have to say, as long as we talk on the way to the hospital, which is where I’m headed right now, with or without you.” He pointed out the wounds on his face; “You see, bruises don’t look good on me.”