Chapter 1: The Board of Directors
Kellyn's footsteps echoed through the quiet hallway of his apartment building as he shuffled through the dimness across the concrete floor. His hand rested on the butt of the gun at his side. He knew it was a futile gesture, that if someone was going to kill him, they would find a way whether he was cautious in his hallway or not. Gods, I've become so paranoid. Not for the first time, he wished one of the workers for the building would replace a few of the burned out light bulbs. He hated not being able to see everything clearly. He made a mental note to put in another maintenance request in the morning.
He reached the door of apartment 10D and halted. Eyes scanning the hallway for any sign of motion – any hint of shadows rippling – with his right hand on his gun, he fumbled with his left hand in his pocket for his keys.
A series of soft clicks made him jump and he spun around, his weapon half drawn before he realized that it was his elderly neighbor across the hall in 9D unlocking and opening her door.
"Kellyn, dear? I hoped it was you. I haven't seen you in days. It's two o'clock in the morning, what are you doing out this late?"
The Ranger took several deep breaths to return his heart rate to normal. He slid his weapon back into its holster. "Oh… hello, Mrs. Gates. I've been working a lot of overtime."
The woman brushed her long silver hair out of her face and scrutinized him with sharp blue eyes. He wasn't sure if she was aware he had his hand on his gun. "It's never a good thing when you're out working this late, Kellyn. Trouble must be afoot in Puel."
You're telling me. "Such is the life of a Ranger, Mrs. Gates," he said calmly. "What are you doing up this late?"
Mrs. Gates smiled, the wrinkles in her face crinkling her eyes. "I was feeding Skitty. When she's hungry, I don't get to sleep until she's fed." Sure enough, Kellyn spotted her dainty cream-colored kitten gnawing at a bowl of food right behind her.
Kellyn shot a casual glance up and down the hallway and forced a smile. "Well, in that case, I'd like to go ahead and go to bed… it's been a long day and tomorrow will probably be even longer. Goodnight."
The lady nodded. "Yes, you get your sleep, dear." She shuffled back inside and closed the door. He heard three locks click behind her.
He turned back to his door. His hands shook slightly as he inserted the key in the door and pushed it open. Immediately, his alarm system began beeping. Satisfied that nothing was waiting for him, or the alarm would have been disabled already, he turned and bolted the door behind him, and reset the alarm. He trampled a pile of mail as he hung his jacket on a hook hanging by the door. With as much reluctance as he would show if he were picking up venomous snakes, he collected the mail and carried them gingerly to his living room. Setting them on the coffee table, he looked around the room. His eyes drifted over his Ranger artifact collection spanning three bookshelves; his electric fireplace upon whose mantle sat a picture of him and his parents, one of him when he was promoted to Top Ranger, and another of him and his two best friends, Kate and Keith, when they graduated the Academy; the tan recliner sitting under a floor lamp… Nothing seemed out of place. Nothing seemed dirty. Nothing looked as if it had been disturbed since last week, when he had last had the chance to clean the room.
He hated not feeling safe in his own home.
He settled on the sofa across from the small TV cart and picked up the first letter. Bill. Next letter. Coupons. Third. Another stupid pre-approved credit card. Fourth. To Elite Ranger Kellyn Wade.
He closed his eyes and let out a low curse as he slit the letter open. It was one line, printed in a simple font on nondescript white paper.
You no longer have any authority within the Union. Be careful who you trust.
It was different from most of the threats he received nowadays – since his Rangers had arrested the Sinis Trio, he had received no fewer than six death threats a week from members of the Dim Sun gang. He couldn't tell what this letter wanted him to know.
You no longer have any authority within the Union.
"Are they threatening me?" he whispered.
Be careful who you trust.
Or warning him?
Beep, beep.
He jumped.
Beep, beep.
Heart racing, Kellyn glanced down at the Styler attached to his wrist. It was never a good thing when it went off, especially not this early in the morning, and especially not on the private voice mail function. Lately, it only went off when homicide reports came in.
Beep, beep.
He pressed a button to answer it. "Go ahead," he said in as calm a voice as he could muster.
"It's Kate."
He swallowed the lump in his throat. "What's wrong?"
"I got another one."
"You get at least three a week."
"This one's different." There was a note of insistence in her voice.
He glanced at the letter he had tossed on the coffee table. "What does it say?"
He heard her take a quivering breath before replying. "'Allying yourself with Kellyn Wade may bring you power or cost you your life. Your remarks at the trial set you toward the latter path. Your next test will come with the first of the month. Someone in the Union wants you dead; if you wish to achieve your goals, be careful who you trust.'"
Kellyn felt his mouth go dry. Be careful who you trust.
"The first of the month is tomorrow," he said slowly.
"The first of the month is when you have your meeting with the Board of Directors."
He had forgotten that. Someone in the Union wants you dead. "Do you think… does that…" He couldn't bring himself to say it.
"Someone on the Board is dirty," Kate finished for him. She hesitated. "But we suspected it. If this letter is telling the truth, and we were right about someone in the Union ordering Hall's death because he was going to give us names, then it makes sense that someone on the Board would want to punish us…me… for saying so at the trial."
The already uncomfortable clenching in Kellyn's stomach intensified. "Someone in the Union is bad enough, but the Board? I don't want to believe that, Kate. If that's true, I won't be able to do anything about the Dim Sun gang. I can't even sneeze without a majority vote of approval from the Board as it is."
"I can't tell you how much I don't want to believe it either, Kellyn."
"This letter… these letters… I got one similar to that, Kate."
"So did Keith."
He paused. Keith, too? Was it because they had been the three to bring down the Sinis Trio? "Do you think it's a trap? Or is someone actually trying to help us?"
"I don't know. We have to be very careful either way."
He glanced at the clock hanging on the wall. "It's nearly three o'clock in the morning. You should get some sleep."
"I'll try." He knew she would spend the rest of the night awake, afraid to drift into restless nightmares about the things the Sinis Trio had done to her in the past, things she had never spoken about even to him, especially now that they were wandering the streets of Puel again. "Night, Kellyn. See you in a few hours."
"Goodnight, Kate."
As he got ready for the few hours of sleep he had before work the next morning, the night's events played through his head once more. A Ranger dead. The Sinis Trio free. Someone in the Union, maybe even the Board, dirty…
He lay on his bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. Too many thoughts crowded his head. His heart stopped with the sound of every passing car on the street four floors below. He squeezed his eyes. He knew real sleep would not come to him tonight. He couldn't remember the last full night's sleep he'd gotten. Instead, visions swam in his mind of a man with dead blue eyes stabbing a faceless man repeatedly, immune to the cries of mercy coming from his hapless victim…
"Good morning, Sunshine."
Kate's elbow slipped off her desk with a thud as she jerked at the voice. Stifling a whimper, she glanced up at Keith. Despite the grin on his face, she saw the shadows under his tired brown eyes; he had clearly not slept last night, either.
"Oh… morning."
He feigned a look of hurt. "'Oh'? Is that all you have to say? Oh?"
She gave him a sleepy smile. "Sorry. It's just… you know." She eyed the armful of papers he carried. "Please don't tell me that we have paperwork on top of everything else."
He understood her wariness. She looked on the verge of exhaustion. He sighed and reluctantly tossed the stack of papers on her already-overflowing inbox tray. She groaned. "Sorry about that, Kate. We're going to be swamped when the media gets a hold of a Ranger being… well. It's going to be a rough time until we catch the S- whoever's responsible."
She caught the slip, judging from the way she bit her lip, but she didn't say anything. She wearily pulled the stack to her and glanced at the top page. He thought he caught her mouth form the silent words "can go to hell" but he wasn't sure. He did know that the top page had been talking about deep-sea fishing rights, so perhaps he had read her lips properly after all.
"Where's the boss?" he asked casually, plopping himself in the chair at his desk, right next to Kate's. Behind him, the two desks belonging to Almia's two other Top Rangers, Sven and Wendy, were vacant. Kellyn undoubtedly had them working on forensics or cleaning the crime scene. Sven's desk was littered with pens and sticky notes, with pictures of him and his rather ferocious-looking dog tacked onto the backboard behind his empty inbox. Wendy's, predictably, had only a memo book, one pen, and one blue highlighter resting on it. A single framed picture of her and her favorite cousin, a famous bird expert from the Hoenn region, rested next to her inbox tray, also empty.
She nodded at the wall, still scowling. Behind it was the command center, where all top-secret operations were planned; it was also the room where the Elite Ranger met with the Board of Directors once a month.
Keith cringed. He had forgotten that it was the first day of the month. "Poor guy. Getting grilled by the Inquisition after what we went through last night."
"Why am I filling out the paperwork for a disturbance of peace report?" Kate was clearly not interested in Kellyn's plight at the moment. "I haven't even filed a DOP in two years." She tossed the paper in her "to be filed by someone else" pile. She trailed off on a mumbled tirade about rookies dumping their reports on her just because she was a Top Ranger and had more responsibility.
Keith couldn't help but smile.
Kellyn felt like a prisoner being interrogated by a medieval court, ready to be strung up in chains by his ankles if he gave a dissatisfactory answer; it wasn't a mystery why Keith referred to the Board as "the Inquisition." The room itself was large, but dimly lit by glowing green numbers and a few red lamps against the black computerized screen floor that made up the high-tech command room. One of the red lamps shined directly on him, giving him more of the feeling that he was a prisoner. The Board sat in a semicircle around him, with the Chairperson seated directly in front. He had to turn his head to see all fifteen of them. Despite the feeling of dread – or maybe because of it – he couldn't help but wonder which one of them was responsible for Hall's death. Or which one of them wants me dead.
Unless it was more than one of them.
That thought made him feel sick to his stomach.
"Good morning, Ranger Wade."
That was Erma, the former Elite Ranger, who had been his boss before he was promoted. Of all the Board members, he felt reasonably sure Erma was clean.
If Erma's the dirty Board member, you're really screwed.
"Good morning, Chairperson Erma."
Erma held up the morning's copy of The Almia Times. "I'll get straight to it today, Kellyn. We have quite a mess to deal with this morning." She tossed the newspaper at him. With a feeling of dread, he looked at the headline.
Security Ranger Found Dead at Puel Harbor; Dim Sun Executives Suspected
Kellyn read the title four times before he was certain he had read it correctly. He glanced up at Erma, who had fixed him with the sternest gaze he had ever seen from her. She nodded jerkily at the newspaper. He reluctantly read the article.
Puel, Almia. Fishermen and dock workers woke this morning to find the eastern pier of the Puel shipyard taped off by the Union. Though the Rangers stationed there refused to disclose the reason behind this, an anonymous source has revealed that late last night, a security Ranger at the Haruba High-Security Prison was stabbed to death on the pier after coming home from work. Though the Union was unavailable for verification this morning, the mode of death is consistent with the signature of the three Dim Sun gang leaders calling themselves the Sinis Trio. The Trio was arrested for the murder of Altru President Blake Hall six months ago and have been behind bars at the Haruba facility ever since. However, our anonymous tip hinted that the Trio escaped last night, possibly with the help of the unnamed security Ranger. Whether this is speculation or fact remains to be seen without further verification by the Union, but the public is advised to proceed with extreme caution in case of an encounter with these armed and dangerous individuals (pictured on page four).
He stared at the paper in stunned silence, unable to find words to adequately express his anger. He glanced at the author of the article—a man by the name of Jon Stanley—and let out a harsh laugh that cut through the silence like a whip. Of course; the most anti-Union "journalist" Kellyn had ever had the misfortune of meeting. He threw the paper back on the ground and leaned back in his chair, running his hands through his hair in frustration.
The Board sat in silence, staring at the Elite Ranger as though waiting for him to say something. He let them wait thirty seconds before he climbed stiffly to his feet and headed toward the door.
"Where are you going?"
It was a different voice this time – Mr. Kincaid's.
Kellyn stopped, but did not turn around. "To go find a hole in the media privacy law that will allow me to arrest Mr. Stanley for endangering the lives not only of Rangers but of the citizens of this city."
"It's too late to deal with him, Kellyn," Kincaid said curtly. "We need to plan damage control right now."
The Elite Ranger turned this time. "What do you think I'm doing?" he said, his tone matching Kincaid's. "Even without cause, we can hold him for twenty-four hours. We can either find out who his 'confidential source' is or we can prevent him from writing more of this trash. Seems like a good step toward damage control to me."
"We don't have enough Rangers to spare for you to go around arresting journalists for every breach of security they publish, or our jail cells would be full of them."
The Ranger's next words were out of his mouth before he could help himself. "Perhaps if the honorable Board hadn't relocated Rangers Butler and Johnson to Oblivia to chase after racketeers hunting legends and fairy tales last month, we would be better equipped to handle the current situation." Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a brown-haired man in a blue polo – Mr. Kaplan – put his hand to his mouth to cover up his smile. Kaplan had been one of the five members who had voted against sending the pair to the Oblivia region to keep an eye on a handful of con artists that were after a fabled set of pure golden armor. Kellyn had pleaded with the Board to contact the Top Rangers in Fiore to handle the situation in Oblivia; the problem in Almia required every Ranger possible to keep under control. Ben Butler and Summer Johnson were talented and brilliant, and the fact that they were both Top Rangers – two of the seven Almia had – made their absence all the more noticeable.
Kincaid's mouth thinned. "Sit down," he said sharply, "or you will be facing a week's suspension without pay."
Kellyn briefly contemplated whether it would be worth a week's pay to voice his opinion before Kincaid added, "and you will be taken off the case. You and Rangers Davis and Stevens."
"Why them?"
Kincaid leaned back in his chair. "I taught you three at the Academy. Do you think we don't know the two of them would ask your advice on the case even if you were forbidden to do so?" He gestured at the vacant chair in the middle of the dim room. "I believe I told you to sit down?"
Kellyn walked slowly back to his chair and sat rigidly, hands clenching on his lap.
"There wasn't really need to treat him like a teenager, Mr. Kincaid," Kaplan said, frowning. He tugged at the collar of his blue polo. "He's not in detention, you know."
"Even the Elite Ranger is subject to the rules of the Union, Mr. Kaplan," Kincaid said coolly.
"Even so, you could have treated him like the Elite Ranger and not like a rookie," Kaplan argued, leaning forward, laying his arms on the table.
"Gentlemen," Erma interrupted loudly, cutting off Kincaid's reply, "we have little time and much to discuss. Ranger Wade, you have suggested only one step for damage control. Do you have others before we open the panel for debate?"
Thank you, Erma. "Yes. But before that, I would like to discuss the contents of that article."
Erma furrowed her brow. "I thought you called the article 'trash.'"
"'Trash' meaning 'poor journalistic style and too much speculation,'" Kellyn said. "Some of the content is… correct."
There was an outburst of muttering at this. The woman to Kaplan's right spoke up over the din. "You don't mean… about the Sinis Trio?"
"That's exactly what I mean, Ms. Claire," Kellyn said icily. "Late last night, when I was informed of the murder by Ranger Stevens via the radio, I had Rhythmi Mathers in Operations call the Haruba facility to do an emergency roll call. Three inmates are unaccounted for."
He scanned each face for any sign of guilt – lack of surprise, suspicion, satisfaction. He saw only fear, bewilderment, and disbelief. Mr. Kincaid cringed as though Kellyn had yanked a handful of his heavily-hairsprayed, swirly blonde pompadour.
"How?" a petite brunette in a pink skirt suit – Ms. April – mumbled after a moment. "Haruba is a top-security prison on an island thirty miles away."
Kellyn took a deep breath. Here would be the hard part: Asking the Board for permission to do something. "I would like to take a Top Ranger with me to the prison to watch security tapes. I also want to speak with some of the inmates to see if any of them were aware of a planned breakout."
Erma glanced at the elderly man next to her, who had remained silent thus far. "Lamont?"
Lamont pushed his glasses to the bridge of his nose and frowned, his free fingers fidgeting with the buttons on his tweed suit coat. "I think that watching the security tapes is fine," he said after a moment, "but I don't want any Rangers asking the inmates about the Sinis Trio."
"Why not?" Kellyn demanded. "If any of them know anything-"
"You forget," Lamont interrupted, losing his normally pleasant tone, "that you put most of those people away to begin with. They hate you, and any answers they give you could be a trap set by the Trio. No, I think the Board will agree to deny you that suggestion."
There was a chorus of agreement. Kellyn clenched his jaw in frustration. He knew Lamont was right, but that didn't stop him from feeling trapped – the leader of the Rangers, stripped of all dignity and freedom of movement by the Board of Directors.
"Any other suggestions, Kellyn?" Erma asked.
The Ranger wet his lips. "I don't want the media getting any more information. I want to monitor all telephone, radio, and email messages going in or out of this building at all times."
Kincaid made an indignant sound. "You want to limit communications? Did you learn nothing from the Academy? That's a breach of the Free Media and Communications Act."
"'In some cases, it is permissible, with the Mayor's permission, to monitor communications that may lead to public endangerment, such as information about the location or actions of armed and dangerous individuals,'" Kellyn recited. Inwardly satisfied at Kincaid's indignant expression, he added, "I would like to speak to Mayor Hastings about this situation. As the former Chair of the Board, I'm sure he would understand that what I desire is the protection of our citizens and our Rangers."
"You suspect that someone in the Union is leaking information to the media?" Erma said slowly.
Kellyn stared her straight in the eye. "How would Jon Stanley have this much information in a matter of a few hours except for a leak?" he asked. "There were nine Rangers on scene, not including myself and Rangers Stevens and Davis. All it would take was for one of them to say something to the wrong person… but I've already given my opinion on the matter of the Union's relationship with the Dim Sun gang, and so have my Rangers." He glanced at Kincaid. "And we were summarily punished for our opinions."
There was a long pause as Kincaid and Kellyn stared one another down. Finally, the blond man spoke. "You talk of public endangerment, Mr. Wade. What could ruin the public's trust in the Union more than unfounded accusations by Top Rangers that someone in the Union – or more than one someone – is dancing to the Dim Sun gang's gavotte?"
Kellyn stared at his former teacher for a moment longer. "May I have the Board's permission to arrest Mr. Stanley for breach of security?" He turned his eyes back toward Erma.
The chairwoman glanced around at the nodding heads. Kincaid neither nodded nor dissented; he looked furious that Kellyn had ignored his last question. "As long as he is released after twenty-four hours per his legal rights… permission granted."
"Permission to view security tapes of the breakout?"
"Granted."
"Permission to speak with Mayor Hastings regarding a media blackout within the Union?"
"Granted."
"Assuming the mayor gives his blessing, permission to pull three Operators from Dispatch to monitor the blackout?"
"Which three?"
"Rhythmi Mathers, Linda Finnegan, and Marcus Briar."
"Granted."
He stood. "Thank you. I'll be in touch if I need anything else." He headed for the door again.
"We have other matters to discuss, Mr. Wade," Kincaid's sharp voice cut in.
Kellyn spun around. "I don't have time to discuss meaningless logistics right now. I've got a media crisis and three incredibly dangerous escaped gang leaders, who will undoubtedly be looking to get revenge, wandering my streets, as well as a woman I need to inform that her husband was murdered on the way home from work. I will complete my monthly report some other time."
Without another look back, he walked briskly out the door, slamming it behind him, leaving a stunned Board behind.
Keith rubbed his eyes tiredly and tossed another packet of papers in the "outgoing" pile. "This is agonizing," he muttered. "How did we get stuck filing traffic tickets anyway? This is the Crime Unit, not the Safety Unit."
"When I get a hold of Barlow…" Kate began scathingly, but Keith didn't get to find out what she would do to the poor Area Ranger when she saw him next. The door flew open, startling the pair sitting at their desks. Kellyn stood there, looking mutinous. He thrust a finger in Keith's direction and jerked it back toward himself, then stormed out of the room.
Kate and Keith exchanged a look. He sighed and picked up his jacket. "The Inquisition really pissed him off today," he muttered. "I think I'd rather be filing traffic tickets."
"Bye," Kate said miserably.
He gave her a reluctant smile and hurried after his boss. Kellyn thundered down the hallway toward the elevator, not even pausing as he practically barreled over an anxious-looking Operator who nearly dropped her armload of papers. Keith apologized to her and jogged the length of the hall, finally catching up with Kellyn at the elevator.
"Kellyn."
The Elite Ranger turned. Keith seldom saw the man truly furious, but Kellyn's rigid posture, clenched fist, and twitching jaw made him look ready to slam his fist through a wall.
"We have a lot to do today," Kellyn said stiffly. Behind him, the elevator made a soft ding and opened.
Keith followed his boss in. "Such as?"
Kellyn jabbed the button for the underground parking lot. "Such as arresting and questioning journalists, telling a woman that her husband was brutally murdered, talking to the mayor, and then we'll spend the night at the Haruba facility." Keith, confused at the beginning of the list, shook his head violently by the end.
"Haruba? Why… why do we have to go there? Everyone there wants to kill us. They especially want to kill you."
Kellyn gave Keith a humorless smile as the elevator stopped and the doors opened. "In case you hadn't noticed, someone in the Union wants to kill us too, Keith."
Shaking his head, Keith followed him out into the parking lot.
Kate rubbed her eyes as she tossed another document into her outbox. The pile in her work tray slowly dwindled as the hours passed. When Keith failed to return after an hour, she knew Kellyn had taken him somewhere. Knowing Kellyn, he was likely to go first to offer his condolences to Mrs. Martinez. She was glad he had taken Keith instead of her. If there was any part of her job she truly hated, it was telling Rangers' families that their loved ones were dead.
She tossed down her pen and glanced across the room, past Ben and Summer's vacant desks, to the mini-fridge and countertop with the coffee maker. Caffeine. She needed something to keep her from passing out at her desk. Wearily, she climbed to her feet and past the empty desks, coming to a halt in front of the mini-fridge. A bottle of water and a half-empty bottle of root beer. She straightened up with a sigh and glanced at the coffee machine, then reached into her pants pocket and pulled out a jumble of coins. She hated coffee. There were enough coins in her pocket for a trip to the vending machine for a soft drink, though.
She stepped out into the spacious second-floor entry hallway, boots squeaking on the linoleum tiles with each step. As she walked over to the vending lounge, she separated the coins in her palm from crumpled sticky notes and dryer lint, paying little attention to her surroundings. So when she almost crashed into someone, an apology slipped off her tongue before she realized who she had nearly run over. She froze, eyes widening as she looked up at Mr. Kincaid.
He gave her an icy glare and said in a matching tone, "you really should pay more attention to your surroundings, Ranger Davis."
She hadn't spoken to him – or been this close to him – since the trial. She had avoided the man like the plague. Mumbling another apology, she tried to slip by him toward the vending machine, but he slid over to block her path. "Actually, this is an excellent opportunity to finally get to speak to you about a few things, Ranger."
The blood in her veins froze. "I actually have a lot of paperwork to do, so if this can wait for another day-"
"It can't."
"I'm very busy, Mr. Kincaid," Kate said coolly. "If you'll excuse me-" She decided to abandon the soft drink and return to her office. She half-expected Mr. Kincaid to follow her but she heard no footsteps behind her.
Instead, his voice echoed through the empty hallway. "It's about your tenuous position within this Union."
She came to an abrupt halt.
"You think," Kincaid said in a low voice, his shoes squeaking on the linoleum floor, "that there is some kind of conspiracy within the Union? You believe this so deeply that you would risk saying so in a highly publicized murder trial?"
Kate swallowed and clenched her fist to keep it from shaking. "I explained myself in my report after the trial, Mr. Kincaid, so if—"
"You explained your baseless assumptions in your report after the trial," Kincaid cut in, directly behind her now. The hairs on her neck stood. "Not any real evidence."
"And I took my week unpaid leave and had plenty of time to think about what I said." Kate couldn't keep the trembling anger from her voice. "I was cleared to return to work, and that's what I'm going to—"
"Did you come to any different conclusions while you were sitting at home, twiddling your thumbs? Or are you still convinced someone in the higher echelons of the Union is on Dim Sun's payroll?"
"Very few people knew that President Hall had requested a meeting with Kel—with Ranger Wade." Kate finally convinced herself to turn around and face Kincaid. She grasped her shaking hand with her other. "He was going to give us information on Dim Sun. I don't think it was a coincidence they killed him right before we got there."
Kincaid fixed her with a withering glare that forced her gaze away. "I'm feeling generous today, Ranger Davis, so I'll pretend you didn't say that to me. Just keep in mind that you're one major infraction from being demoted or fired. Tread carefully."
He pushed past her and headed for the elevator. She waited until the doors had closed to set off for her office at a dead sprint. Once inside, she locked the door behind her and collapsed into her chair.
Your next test will come with the first of the month. Someone in the Union wants you dead; if you wish to achieve your goals, be careful who you trust.
If this was only the beginning, what would the end look like?