Chapter Eleven:
In a New York Minute . . .
"You know, you shouldn't leave your window open if you don't want visitors."
Logan looked up from the file in his hand to see Jondy leaning against the doorjamb. The hint of a smile touched his face. "Would you believe I've been warned before?"
Jondy shrugged and grinned, feeling strangely as if she were missing out on the punch line of a private joke. "Sorry."
"No, it's okay." He held up a hand. "I'm used to it. Did Max come with you? I just paged her."
"Well, she was getting into the shower as I left, so she should be along in a little while." She took off her coat and sat down in a chair. "So, anything new on Perez?"
Logan frowned. "Actually, yes. I just got a report from an informant. Ice is dead." Jondy wrinkled her brow. "Single gunshot wound to the head. The shooter fired in through his bathroom window."
"Not even safe to pee anymore," Jondy muttered. She shook her head. "I should have warned him somehow."
Logan raised an eyebrow. "And exactly how would you have done that? Marched in and informed half of the gang that someone was trying to kill him?" She shrugged.
"I don't know, but I feel like I should have done something." She frowned.
Just then Asha entered the room wearing a coat and carrying a tattered backpack which seemed to be stuffed rather full. She sent a friendly smile in Jondy's direction. "Hi."
"Hi," Jondy returned. This should be interesting . . . Asha walked over to Logan's chair.
"I'm getting ready to leave. I should be back by Friday night, okay?" She reached down and touched Logan's hand.
"Okay," he answered. Then Jondy watched as Asha smiled at Logan, leaned over, and gave him a quick peck on the lips. Jondy's eyebrows shot up. No, sir . . . She watched in astonishment as they exchanged good-byes and Asha left the apartment. She leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs at the ankles and her arms in front of her. Jondy ran her tongue around her teeth. How to phrase this . . .
"Can I ask you a question?" she finally asked. Logan had a strange look on his face. She figured he knew the nature of the question she was about to ask. He took a deep breath.
"Okay."
"Now, keep in mind that I'm not asking this question as Max's transgenic sister who is perfectly capable of flying across this room and snapping your neck before you even know what's happening. I'm asking this question as a woman." She leaned forward to rest her elbows on her knees. "What in the hell is going on in that head of yours?"
Logan turned to stare at her. Her little reminder of who and what she was had made him a tad bit nervous, but he didn't really expect her to make that sort of move. He called her bluff. "I don't see how that is any of your business."
Okay, if you want to be an ass about it . . . "You know what? I think it is. See, Manticore accidentally spliced in some meddling-older-sister genes when they made me, so don't even think that you're going to get out of this one." Logan turned his chair to the side and dropped the file onto his desk. He propped his elbows on top of it and turned his head to glare at her. "She loves you. Do you think you're being fair to her?"
"Well, since it's your business, Max and I have already had this conversation. She was the one who wanted it this way." There was bitterness there, and it was caked in layers of hurt. If she hadn't been so close to smacking some sense into him, she might have felt a little sympathy. If that was Max's decision, he'd obviously buried his own desires to give Max what she wanted. Sweet, she thought, but incredibly stupid.
"Who the hell said anything about Max?" Logan's eyebrows knitted together. "I was talking about Asha."
"What?"
Well, that took the wind out of his sails. "She loves you. That's as clear as day. The problem is that you're in love with someone else, so no, you aren't being fair to her. She deserves the truth. You're just using her to ease the heartache." Logan's face had gone blank, and Jondy had a momentary thrill at the realization that she had just knocked him on his ass, so to speak. He was quiet for a moment.
"If you're trying to tell me that I don't care about Asha--"
"I'm not saying that," she interrupted, resisting the urge to grab him and shake him. Men! she thought to herself. "It's obvious that you do care about her, but not the way that she cares about you, and you know it." She gave it a moment to sink in. "Don't you think she deserves the chance to find someone who can care about her that way?"
She expected him to say something, but he only turned his head and stared at his hands. Logan looked so pitiful that she was starting to crack. She watched him for a moment and sighed. "And don't even try to say that--"
"You're right," he interrupted, his voice almost a whisper. "You're right," and he said nothing more. One minute of silence ticked by, then another. He sighed. "Sometimes it just . . . it's easier to pretend . . . when you feel so empty . . ."
"Don't even try to tell me about emptiness." Logan glanced over, making eye contact with her for the first time since the conversation had begun. The pain he saw in her eyes was leagues deeper than his own. He almost felt guilty for feeling anything at all.
"I'm sorry," he said after a moment. "Max told me . . . and I'm sorry." Jondy averted her eyes, glancing out the window. He could tell she was blinking back tears, trying not to cry.
"There's this old song," she finally said. "It came out before I was even born. This guy's singing about how everything can change in just an instant." She swallowed. "There's this line about how 'if you find somebody to love in this world, you better hang on tooth and nail.'" She sighed and turned to look him in the eye once more, knowing that the eye contact might well bring her to tears again. It was worth the risk. "I didn't know that until it was too late." She paused. "If I could go back in time and make it so that we never met, so that I didn't have to live with this, I wouldn't change it. I wouldn't give up a moment of my time with him, no matter what's happened since." She glanced back down at her hands and took a deep breath. Tears were burning at the backs of her eyes, but she didn't want to cry in front of him. She rose and walked to the door.
"Don't make the same mistake I made, Logan," she said without turning. She held her hand against the doorjamb for a moment to steady herself. "I'm going to go get a drink of water." She walked towards the kitchen, not knowing that Logan's eyes followed her until she was out of sight.
Little liar, she told herself on the way down the hall. You know damned well that you'd give up every single moment . . . because if he'd never met you, he'd still be alive.
When Max entered the apartment several minutes later, Jondy had dried her tears. She was standing at the window in Logan's living room, looking out over the street below with a glass of water in her hand. Jondy did her best to assume a normal expression.
"Hey, baby sister," she said, turning to face Max.
"Hey," her sister answered. Something in Jondy's expression wasn't quite right, but the last few days had been rough for her, so Max decided not to push. "What's up with Logan blazin' my pager? Can't a girl take a shower anymore?"
"You spend too much time in the shower anyway. Remember the time we got extra laps because you took all morning in there?" Max punched her sister in the shoulder gently. They turned and walked back towards Logan's office.
"You know damn well that was you." Max grinned as they entered the room. Logan was looking down at the file in his hand, studying it intently, but something in his eyes said he wasn't looking at the printed page in his hands. He looked . . . shell-shocked, Max decided. "What's wrong?" she asked, concern evident in her voice.
"I just thought I should fill you in on the latest news." He turned and typed on his keyboard, pulling up an information screen. "Ice was just killed. Shot through the window of his bathroom." Logan knew that Max could tell something was wrong. Jondy could see it too.
"He probably took too long in the shower," Jondy muttered as she lifted the glass to her lips. She was hoping to distract her sister from Logan's mood. Max simply elbowed her in the ribs, and Logan, who had overheard part of their earlier conversation, smiled. Max shook her head. If he was smiling like that he must be okay. Maybe Jondy's sadness was rubbing off on him or something?
Jondy walked over to read the information on Logan's computer screen. "Eyes Only keeps tabs on the local gangs, too, eh?"
"Well, yes and no. His main concern is the big-timers. The gangs mostly keep to themselves and don't threaten the general public. As long as it stays that way, Eyes Only will stay out of it." Jondy nodded, rested a hand on the corner of his desk, and leaned forward slightly.
"Well, that makes four. Perez said that there were five targets, so who could the other one be?"
Max shook her head, remembering a particularly interesting delivery she and Sketchy had made the previous year. "What about Tacoma Bleed?" Logan typed away on his keyboard.
"Very likely," Logan rested his chin in his hand for a moment and pondered the information on the screen. "He's the most powerful member of the Rydin' Forties left." He hit a few more keys, pulling up an information screen on Bleed. He shook his head. "He's also Ice's brother."
"As in gang, right?" Jondy put in from behind of him.
"No, as in biological."
"Well, that's going to make warning him easy," Jondy muttered sarcastically.
Max jerked her gaze away from the screen and met Jondy's eyes. "Warning him?" she repeated. "How are you going to warn him?" Jondy glanced over at the phone.
"I should have found some way to warn Ice, but I didn't, and I said I was going to stop Perez, didn't I?" She sighed. "So, has Eyes Only got a phone number for this guy?" Jondy asked. Before Logan could respond, Max was already repeating a string of numbers from memory. Jondy's surprise showed in her face.
"He and I have met, but it's kind of a long story." Grinning, Jondy grabbed the phone and began to dial. She managed to get out seven words before the man who answered hung up on her. The second time she managed only three, and the third time no one answered at all.
"Great," she muttered as she hung up the phone. "They think it's a prank call." She cocked her head to the side and thought for a moment. "I don't relish the idea of going into gang territory, but I have to do something." She paused for a moment and glanced over at Max. "So, would you happen to have his address too?"
"134 Clemson." Max said, smiling back at her sister. Jondy leaned over to study the information on Logan's monitor. Something caught her eye.
"I'll be damned." She pointed it out to Max and Logan. She thought for a moment. "Max? Can I borrow your bike and your Jam Pony ID? I've got an idea."
Jondy peddled down the street, carefully watching the people she passed. Off to her left she noticed two little boys playing with marbles on their doorstep, the same children she had seen several days earlier. A thought entered her mind for a moment, but upon further inspection she decided that it wasn't possible. They looked to be six or seven, far too old for her suspicions to be founded. Several blocks farther down a homeless woman dug in a trashcan, her gray hair spilling out from under a well-worn knitted cap. A group of teenaged boys, probably gang members, yelled mockeries across the street at her. She simply ignored them, and they soon tired of the game and let her be.
For the most part, no one seemed to notice Jondy. The few who did didn't seem to sense anything amiss. To them, she looked like any other Jam Pony messenger. She hoped that Tacoma Bleed would be just as easily deceived.
Reaching up with one hand, she checked to be sure that her hair was still securely pinned in place and that the short brown wig which covered it was still in position. She'd borrowed Max's hat as well, and she rode with her head down, just in case anyone decided that her face looked a bit too feminine for her to pass as a young male Jam Pony messenger.
The make-up on the back of her neck was itching, and it was driving her crazy, but it was all she had been able to find to cover the barcode on such short notice. Under other circumstances, she might have just had it removed, but she was a little short on time. The stuff was supposedly used to cover scars on burn victims, and she wondered if it was as annoying to them as it was to her.
She rolled her shoulders, trying to reposition the elastic bandage that was wrapped around her chest. She had to admit that it was far more annoying than the make-up. Why in the world do transgenic super soldiers need breasts, anyway? she asked herself. You'd think they'd be in the way on the battlefield . . . She glanced down to make sure that her baggy clothes weren't getting caught in the bicycle gears. It wasn't her normal style, but she had to cover up the feminine curves somehow.
She reached down and pulled out her ID for another look. Logan had made a copy of Max's for Jondy to use, replacing Max's picture with a picture of Jondy in her disguise. Thank God for unisex names, she thought. Logan could have completely faked a name for her, but Jondy wanted the name on the badge to be a real Jam Pony messenger, just in case she was stopped by the Sector Police and they had to check their records. Frowning, Jondy thought of Max's offer to come with her. No, she had said. This is something I have to do.
As she neared her destination, she slowed down, using her heightened senses to keep a lookout for anyone who might be watching her or lurking in the shadows. The last thing she needed was for Perez to pop out of some window and start shooting at her, especially since she was riding directly towards his next target. Reaching 134 Clemson, Jondy got off of her bike and removed the letter from her backpack. There was still no sign of anyone watching her, so she slipped up to the door and knocked. After a moment, the door opened a crack, and a brown eye glared out at her.
"Who are you, and what do you want?" a voice growled from the other side of the door.
"Jam Pony messenger. I have a package for Mr. Tacoma Bleed?" The man stared at her for a moment, then shut the door right in her face. Okay, Jondy, so maybe it wasn't such a bright idea. She stood outside of the building for a moment, trying to devise another plan. She had to get this message to Bleed, and if he wouldn't accept it now, she would have to leave it for him. Glancing up at the side of the building, she contemplated climbing in a window and leaving it in a conspicuous spot for him to find, but she was sure the gang members in this building were well-armed and that their fingers were just aching to pull the trigger on anyone they saw as a danger to Bleed. It was best to take the easiest route. She leaned over and was about to slip the letter under the door when it opened in front of her.
"Bring it in here."
The man who opened the door could have played for the NFL back before the Pulse. He was tall and broad shouldered, and Jondy realized that his brown eyes were the only part of him that wasn't intimidating, although the way he was staring at her was enough to make almost anyone nervous. He stood aside to allow her to enter.
Stepping inside she realized that this might not have been such a good idea. The room was crawling with gang members, all looking as if one false move on her part and she would end up with more holes than a sponge. She had to get out of here before Bleed opened the package. She held out a paper to the man in the center of the room. "Are you Mr. Bleed?" He nodded cautiously. "Can I get a signature on this?"
Bleed grabbed it away and scrawled his signature, then took the package from her hands. She began to back away, heading for the door. "Jam Pony thanks you for your business. Have a nice--" Unfortunately the man who had answered the door was blocking her exit, and he didn't seem interested in moving.
Great. Just great. Jondy watched as Bleed opened the package, her eyes darting around the room in search of the quickest escape route should it become necessary. There was a window about a foot to her right. With her speed she could easily be through it and racing down the street before they knew what happened. Hopefully she wouldn't have to do that. She hated jumping through windows. It brought back too many memories of a fateful night many years before.
Bleed opened the envelope and pulled out a large photo and a hastily scrawled note on a sheet of paper. He looked up at her. "Who sent this?"
She shrugged. "I don't know. It was a pickup from a few blocks down."
Bleed eyed her suspiciously, then began to read the note. She watched as his eyes moved back and forth across the page. Using her photographic memory, she could easily judge how far he was along in the note as he moved across each line and moved down to the next. At the end of the first paragraph, he lowered the note and glanced over at the picture in his other hand. Jondy imagined that it was the first time he had ever heard of Perez, much less seen a picture of the man. He looked up at her again, his eyes filled with suspicion. "Who sent this?"
His meaning was clear. He wanted a name, an address, something more specific. She sighed. Maybe honesty was the only way to make him believe her.
"Actually, I did." Before she could take a breath, half of the guns in the room were pointed at her chest. She didn't flinch.
Bleed's eyes narrowed to slits. "What do you want?"
She returned his stare. "You to stay alive."
"Why?"
She resisted the urge to take a step forward. There were too many guns trained on her to make that sort of move. "Because the son of a bitch that's trying to kill you is after me too, because if it weren't for him, I would be happily married, and living in Los Angeles with the man I love and a baby, and because I made a promise to never let him do it again." She lifted her head a notch, refusing to let him believe that he was intimidating her. She wasn't afraid of him, and she wanted to make sure that he knew it.
"Why should it matter to you?"
Jondy looked him over. She knew the risk she was taking, but she had to hit the message home. "His name is Gregory. He is three years old . . . "
Suddenly every gun in the room was aimed at her head.
" . . . and I think he would like his daddy to be around for his fourth birthday."
Bleed ground his teeth. It was obvious that his finger was itching to pull the trigger of the gun in his hand. "If you touch one hair on his head--"
"I have no intentions of harming your son." She watched as Bleed narrowed his eyes once again, and she didn't miss the slight nod of his head. She wasn't stupid, so when the man behind of her suddenly reached out to grab her from behind, she was more than ready.
Raising his arms from his sides, he left his ribcage exposed, and Jondy slammed her right elbow directly into his gut. The force behind of her unexpected move caught him off-guard, knocking the air from his lungs for an instant, but an instant was all Jondy needed. As he doubled over she rammed her other elbow into his face, causing blood to spurt from his nose. Jondy ducked, slipping under his arm while simultaneously shoving him in front of her. She placed herself behind of the man, who was now sitting on the floor, an expression of shock and surprise frozen onto his face. She wrapped an arm around his chest from behind and placed the other hand on the opposite jaw, letting her stance show that she was perfectly capable of snapping his neck. The man was so startled that he didn't dare move, and no one dared fire for fear of hitting him. The entire move had taken her less than two seconds.
Jondy moved her eyes across the room, staring each man in the face, proving her point. Confusion and surprise shone from every eye in the room, save her own, and judging from the expressions on their faces, she doubted they even remembered how to use their guns at that moment. Feeling something brushing her neck, she belatedly realized that her secret was out. In ducking under the man's arm, she had dislodged Max's cap and the wig, and a sprig of blonde hair was falling down onto her shoulder. Great. The room stayed in silence for a moment. No one knew how to react.
Sighing, Jondy released the man and stood, shoving him forward with her foot. He scrambled across the room to safety. Very slowly she reached up to pin her hair back into place, then leaned over to retrieve the wig and hat, which she placed back on her head. The men in the room were still staring at her, though most had lowered their guns and were watching in astonishment as she fixed her disguise. She glanced over at Bleed, who was starting to recover from his shock.
"Please believe that I have no intention of harming anyone. I came only to warn you. Whether you believe me or not is up to you, but you deserve a warning that others have not received. Keep your eyes open because Perez is still out there, and you're next on his list. When I catch him, he will never harm another person again, my promise to God, but keep yourself safe until then." She paused, then added in a sympathetic voice, "my condolences on your brother's death."
With that, Jondy backed out the door and vanished. The men stared at each other in bewilderment for a moment, then ran towards the door, but by the time they got there, she was already gone.
Bleed pondered the strange event for a moment, not quite sure what to think of this unusual woman who had walked into the midst of a gang dressed as a boy to warn him that someone was trying to kill him, but he had to admit that she had balls, if that was possible for a girl. As for her story, the sharpshooter actually made sense. The four men had been shot with professional precision, something that members of their rival gang were too sloppy to have.
He pondered the situation for a moment, then leaned down to pick up the note he had dropped when he pulled his gun. He had only read half of it. Scanning down through the rest of the note, he read a familiar name. Something wasn't right. It couldn't be true, and yet . . . when he thought about it . . . strangely, it made sense.
Rattling out a string of curses, Bleed crumpled the paper in his hands, ripping it to shreds at the same time. He would look into this, and if it was true, heads would roll.