Chapter 4 Reflections
Non's attention flickered between the two men before her. Except for the Devil's brief, insolent, inspection, they pretty much ignored her completely. Which suited her just fine. For now, Zechs had point on this mission; she was back up.
While they talked, she took stock of the stranger. He was tall, almost the same height as Zechs, and moved with the same lethal grace of a panther. But, something in his eyes didn't always match the smirk on his face.
Inwardly, Noin sighed. This whole scene had an almost dream-like quality. Here they sat, chatting with a dangerous stranger, who, she was certain, would cheerfully kill them if he thought it was a good idea. All because of a friend she didn't know about until yesterday and on the word of a wolf. Good Lord, the things I do for love, she thought resignedly.
"She must have kept something, somewhere, for you – especially if she sent you a message? Now, where?" The Red Devil ran his hand through his hair.
Zechs exchanged glances with the beast curled at his side, then stood. "I know," he said calmly. The Devil started, while Noin met his gaze with equal calm. A smile touch the corner of his mouth. The he turned and strode into the kitchen. The wolf leapt lightly off the hearth to follow and the Devil scrambled out of his chair. With a rueful shake of her head, Noin brought up the rear of this little caravan.
She entered the kitchen in time to see a section of the wall holding hanging pots and pans swing open. Shaking his head, the Devil walked forward.
"Trust Angel," he murmured.
Zechs opened the door fully and lights flickered to life. A short flight of steps greeted them and curved to the right. Zechs led the way down, and as Noin turned the corner, the breath caught in her throat. The short tunnel opened into a large, well lit room. Around them, servers, monitors and various computer parts hummed, beeped and blinked quietly to themselves. To Noin's untrained eye, enough power existed in this room to make every hacker in Preventer's HQ drool.
Or sweat.
The Devil shook his head. "Amazing. She actually built it." He caught Zechs' inquiring glance. "She always wanted a system like this, built to her specifications. But, we never had a permanent base to trust with anything of this magnitude."
"Indeed." Zechs walked to what appeared to be the main console and keyboard. "if she left a message, it should be here."
"Agreed." The other man slid into the massive swivel chair, fingers moving over the keyboard.
Suddenly, Noin started at the brush of something soft across the back of her hand. She jerked her gaze down to see the wolf – Winter – pressing against her leg. He glanced up at her briefly, with … reassurance in those yellow eyes?
"Ah, here," the Devil murmured at the computer console. Unconsciously, Noin moved up next to Zechs, flanking the seated man. "Angel was rather thorough in her file system. Everything tended to be compartmentalized, with each file system having its own password. However, she did have one for me…"
The keys clicked under the man's fingers as he typed, glowing dots on the screen representing the password. Then, that box slide away, replaced by another.
Access denied.
The dark-haired man slumped back in the chair. "Didn't think that would work, what with her thinking I'm dead. But, it was worth a shot."
Beside her, Zechs shifted. "How was her system arranged?" he asked softly.
The Devil glanced up questioningly at Zechs' reflection in the monitor. "Before, Angel linked the appropriate files to certain passwords. If there was something she wanted me to have access to, the file would link to my personal password. Additionally, if she had information related to a mission, all related files would be linked under the password for that mission. Things were cross-linked sometimes, but it made sense to her and always seemed to work. This," he gestured to the screen before him, "was her domain."
"So, it's not a matter of finding the right files, then imputing a password, rather the other way around."
"Unless she's changed things, yes. Did she provide you with an access code?"
"May I?"
The other man pushed back and rose fluidly from the chair. "By all means."
Her husband settled into the vacated space, eyes shadowed. Noin fought the urged to go to him, to simply rest a hand on his shoulder. To let him know he still wasn't alone. She could see the turmoil in the set of his shoulders, even if his face remained impassive. But the unknown factor in the room held her back. It wasn't good tactics to show so much to an unknown operative.
Really. It was only because she didn't trust the stranger.
Really.
A drawn-out breath, a slight sigh, drew her attention back to Zechs. She saw his lips move slightly in the reflection. Then, he met her eyes while he typed.
Access granted.
The black password box disappeared, and an image digitized. Once again, a woman appeared on the screen before them, only this time her vibrant red hair was bleached blonde and cut in a bob around her face.
"Well, damn. Not exactly the way I wanted to see you again Wind." Her black bomber jacked rustled fainted as she leaned forward to rest her arms on the console before her. The same servers currently behind Noin blinked softly on the screen behind the woman.
The Silver Angel.
Noin found herself wondering what her real name was.
"Okay, here's the low down. I recently stumbled across a group on the 'net calling themselves the Black Rose. Just another bunch of idiot anarchists running their mouths off in the supposed anonymity of cyber space, I thought at first. All the usual hoopla and stupid rhetoric. But, then they disappeared. Intrigued, I tracked their moves through the 'net, figuring the Preventers must have finally caught wind of them.
"No such luck. They turned off their own servers, shut down their own sites without any government or authoritative body telling them too. No records of reports, no petitions against them – none of the usual stuff done to get the idiots out. And that worried me.
"So, I dug a little deeper. Turns out I caught just the beginning of their little tirade, back before they were organized. It's taken me a couple of weeks to fully track everything – they've got some good people on their end now – but, this looks like a full fledged terrorist organization. I found a good chunk of the money, held in some of the same banks holding mine, which I find highly ironic. And now they seem to have a leader, someone smart enough to realize that rants on the internet will not get them what they want. I've caught a couple of random emails, nothing that will hold up in any court, of course. But, enough to make me nervous. They had a decided familiar ring to them." She grinned ruefully.
With a small start, Noin remembered. This woman use to be black ops, as close to a government-sanction terrorist as it gets. And the man beside her claimed to be her partner.
She sneaked a quick look to her left. The Red Devil stared at the screen with an almost physical intensity.
"It looks like they have a main base somewhere in what used to be Eastern Europe. One of the old Slavic states. I haven't been able to get anymore information out remotely. In fact, I've triggered a couple of alarms, but none of their traces are good enough to find me here. What information I have is all circumstantial, nothing substantive. But, every instinct I have tells me these people are bad news.
"Now, the good news is they appear to take in every malcontent that comes their way. Not to the highest levels, of course." She snorted. "That would make my job far too easy. But, if I can get on base, I'm sure I can find a computer center with enough power and access for me to get behind the damn firewall they put up. That thing is amazing! It has a rotating frequency, and modulating bandwidth, plus – I can see your eyes glazing over." The Silver Angel grinned again, merriment dancing in her eyes.
Then the merriment dimmed. "Okay, all the information I have so far is located in the secondary files behind this one. The money trail, the communications records, the location of the compound, what identities I've dug up, etc. When I go in, I'll leave another cache location to send anything substantial I might find. It's marked on the map and has a small GPS transmitter. I found an old and low-key frequency. It shouldn't raise any red-flags. As much as I hate to say it, download everything and get it to Une." She brought up clasped hands and rested her chin on the knuckles. "I can hear you already, 'Damn fool woman. What the hell was she thinking going in alone?'" She shrugged. "We both know why I'm still alone. I'm not ready to take on anther person again. Not yet. If you were… Bah. Never mind." Briefly, her eyes closed.
When they opened, sadness and an acceptance gleamed in them. "We both know why you're here, Wind. I'm not back and we know what that means. If I'm not dead, then I might as well be. And you damn well better NOT attempt a rescue mission. I spent far too much money patching your hide back together for you to throw it away on me! Get the info, get the cache and go back to your life with that woman of yours. She waited far too long for you. If you leave her again, this time because of me, I will never forgive you."
The Silver Angel leaned forward, and Noin's breath caught in her chest at the depth and mixture of emotions blazing in the other woman's face. "I mean it, Wind. You're important to me. And, if you blow this now that you've finally found and accepted it…" She swallowed, and blinked several times. "At least one of us deserves some happiness.
"Okay, a few last things. My will is also part of the secondary files. My lawyers are in Geneva. All the information you'll need to contact them is part of the data. Don't worry; they're good and highly discrete. They work for me, don't they? Basically, all legal mumble-jumble aside, everything I got, is yours buddy." A small, sad smile tugged at her lips. "And I can already see your reaction. But, I don't have anyone else to leave my ill-gotten gains to. Use them any way you want. I'd recommend holding on the land for now – you never know, someday you may want to return and settle down. This place qualifies nicely as neutral territory for new beginnings.
"Since I know he has to be there by now, with his paws up on the console – Winter is his own wolf, as we both know all too well. He may choose to follow you; he may not. However, his valley is the only part set aside. Nothing will touch that.
"Well, I think that's it, finally. Time to go argue with Winter as to why he can't come with me. I would have loved to seen your face one more time. Who knows, maybe all will go okay, and you'll never see this. But, in case… I never actually said it, but you helped me as much as I helped you. Keep that in your heart for me, my friend. Love well. Live long. Stay safe." With a small salute, the screen went dark, then filled with a file tree of the secondary information.
Silence filled the room.
He crouched in front of the Silver Angel, Cynthia Farlan, old and sometimes trusted friend. She looked like holy hell. The broken left arm, the split lip, the blackened eye – He shook his head to stop the catalogue of injuries.
"Then turn. Work with me. He won't touch you then."
Her good eye widened and her jaw dropped. "What?"
He gazed steadily back in return.
"Cold, you can't be serious. Why would your superiors condone that?"
"Because you're good at what we do, Angel. The Rose seriously lacks trained intelligence officers. Your skills are valuable."
She snorted, a harsh sound, then winced. "They could forgive my infiltration of their compound, hacking into their systems, and rooting around in their secrets?"
"If I make a good enough case. What – working with me that horrible?" He grinned cockily.
She closed her eyes and allowed her head to sag. A faint urge to touch her, to simply smooth away some of the dried blood at the corner of her mouth ran through him. The silence between them deepened. A heartbeat. Two. Three. Then, the battered woman before him drew a ragged sigh.
"I can't. God help me, I actually contemplated it – but, I can't."
This time he did move, gave into the impulse. He shifted forward and gently cupped her cheek. Her eyes shot open at the contact. "I had a feeling Angel. But it was worth a shot."
"Angel died two years ago, Cold."
"I had a feeling about that too, Cyn."
"You know, you're probably the last person to remember my original name." To remember me, he heard the unspoken thought.
"I think that goes both ways."
They locked eyes and he nodded. Something shifted in her, part of the mask of the Silver Angel he'd always known cracked, allowing her vulnerability and desperation to come through. "Cold, I – " She swallowed. "I – I can't… Could –"
"Well, isn't this cozy?"
A nasal voice snapped across them like a whip. The mask snapped back into place, sealing over any cracks so completely Adam almost wondered if he'd seen them to begin with. He felt his own face harden in response.
Holding Angel – Cynthia's – gaze, he rose fluidly to his feet. How'd that damn fool get in without making a noise? he berated himself. He'd been out of the field for far too long. Slips like that would kill him. With a final, short nod to Cyn's suddenly shielded eyes, he turned.
The newcomer was of average height, and average build, with a hawk nose that dominated his face. But, it was his eyes you remembered, that caused most people to shiver behind his back; they were cold, black and flat.
"Taking an interest in interrogation now Strike?"
Adam met the other man's eyes directly. "On occasion, Sulkoff."
"Oh, that's right," the other smirked. "You're both from the same intelligence background. Possible you knew each other?"
"Possible."
"Care to assist?"
"Actually, I have a post-debrief meeting with the Commander. Maybe later I'll take a more… active interest." He brushed by the interrogator and frowned as the door closed behind him. Well, he hadn't expected Cyn to take him up on the offer; of the two, the Devil was always the more – pragmatic.
Shrugging his shoulders to settle his uniform, he continued down the corridor.
Zechs sat in stunned shock, staring at the list of files scrolling down the screen. With an uncharacteristically ungraceful lurch, he fumbled at the keyboard. "The scouting reports," he mumbled, "who they are, what she was heading into – "
"And where she was heading. Don't forget the map," the Devil cut in, pointing out the appropriate file.
Zechs nodded curtly, concentration focused on the screen. Which suddenly went blank.
"Actually," Noin said calmly as two pairs of irritated male eyes swung up to her," first we need food. And rest." Her hand fell away from the screen's on/off switch. "This information has lain here for three weeks unattended. Another few hours won't make a difference to it." She crossed her arms and stared back expectantly. "But will to us."
Zechs let out a pent up breath. He knew that look all too well. He rose and turned to the Devil, with a quirk of his lips. "Better to give in gracefully at this point. Trust me."
When the other man looked ready to protest, Noin transferred that steady gaze to him. "That's a pretty professional looking kitchen up there."
The Devil's mouth opened. And closed. Shaking his head slightly, he matched Zechs' half turn. "Does she always do that?"
"What?"
"Get everyone to jump exactly as she says?"
Zechs looked over his shoulder in time to catch the sardonic twist to Noin's lips. "She's had plenty of practice."
With a rolling of eyes and small shooing motions, Noin herded them up the stairs to the kitchen.