Playing it safe may keep the status quo. But to make change, that requires risk.
—Bordeaux
PRESENT...
Bordeaux breathed in the scent of dust and dry vegetation. The El Paso air was crisp in the predawn. She was reminded of the rocky hills of western Iraq. The street butted up against El Paso's downtown sector. It was a sad, neglected side of town. Businesses were in shambles, the buildings in need of repair or renovation. The Texas Research and Technologies labs were no exception to this.
TRT was pitiful sight. The fire from months past still showed its mark. One wing lay collapsed, a crumbling frame of whether beaten remains. Some of the debris had been cleared and construction even started on the roof and lab rooms. But material lay piled and abandoned. The undamaged structure had been vandalized. The windows were first broken by rocks, boarded up, and then tagged by spray paint.
Agent Rockwell squinted at the wreckage. The pawn sported only scrapes and bruises from their encounter two days ago. As for herself, Bordeaux had escaped the crash with a slight concussion and fractured ribs. Peacemaker bore his injuries well, moving slow and measured. Rotation of any joint was restricted by either pain or bandages. He gave no complaint though she knew he must be in severe discomfort.
A good man. Solid in his duty. Driven by loyalty to Checkmate and his fellow soldiers. But he was on the wrong side and due to that, he wouldn't last long. Shame. She could use someone like him backing her up.
A repressed sigh swelled in Bordeaux's throat. So alone. She felt as though she held a bolder at the top of a hill. And she was the only one keeping it from rolling over her and tumbling down. But she would not budge. She would not run. She would go it alone for as long as it took.
But it was a dangerous game she played. Getting aid right under King's nose was dangerous. He had eyes everywhere, but it could be worth the risk if it meant putting an end to this all. She needed help. She didn't know how much longer could she last on her own.
Peacemaker picked his way around the wreckage, wincing and limping as he went. Hospital staff had been appalled when he announced his intention to leave. A ruddy faced doctor ordered him to use the crutches provided. Peacemaker assured the doctor that he'd never be without them. True to his word, he carried the metal crutches by his side. The only use made of the walking aids was to knock things out of his way so he didn't have to bend over.
Blank white spaces outlined where lab equipment had been removed. There was no indication of what purpose the lab might have served.
"What do you think?" she asked.
He grunted. "Could have been anything. Manufacturing. Testing …" He nudged a piece of rubble with a crutch and shook his head. "But with the fire … impossible to tell."
"Maybe they burned the facility to cover their tracks," Rockwell spoke up.
Bordeaux's pocket buzzed. She didn't bother checking the caller ID. It was her secure line. "I'll check the second floor in case we missed anything."
Peacemaker sighed. "Sure. I'll talk to the building manager out front; see if I can't figure out what this place was used for."
While Peacemaker and Rockwell idled in the desolation, Bordeaux returned to the main building. She followed a stairwell to the second level. Here, offices lined the walls while cubicles cluttered between support pillars.
She entered an office, closing the door behind her. A desk and bare filing cabinet were the only evidence of its former use. She dialed her satellite phone and flicked open the blind. Clear blueing sky and abandoned storefronts greeted her.
"Bordeaux," King's voice answered.
"Sir."
"Your report does not bode well. You're sure the Texan's suit is connected to KORD?"
I'm here now, sir. Evidence was destroyed by a fire. There is no way to confirm that the boy has any affiliation with KORD. But the coincidence is hard to ignore."
"Indeed. Especially with the Texan appearing so closely to his demise."
"Your orders, sir?"
"Proceed as planned."
A sudden flash of movement across the sky caught her eye. Bordeaux leapt to the window. The street was as before. But she could have sworn she saw …
A thud on the roof.
Her eyes flicked to the ceiling. Trickles of adrenalin burned through her limbs.
"And what of the Queen's dog?" King went on. "He suspect anything?"
She eased the door open. Across the room a loud crack echoed. She could have sworn it was the sound of a roof access door being broken through. Had to alert Peacemaker and Rockwell.
"Bordeaux?"
She reached for her gun. "Sir, I'll have to get back to you."
His voice held mild amusement. "Problem?"
"I think our theory about the kid being connected to KORD wasn't far off. Because he just broke into the building."
"What?"
"He's here, sir. Moving to intercept. I'll contact you once we've—"
"Wait," King's voice came sharp through the speaker. Bordeaux used the reflective surface of a framed poster to get an angle on the end of the hall. A shadowed figure slunk from office to office, searching for something. "Is the other Knight aware?" A quick glance outside revealed Peacemaker and Rockwell talking with the supervisor.
"Negative." Her heart beat hard but steady. The shadowed figure at the hall's end had reached a locked door. A pause as it considered the obstacle.
"Locked up in the Zoo the boy is no advantage to me."
Bordeaux adjusted her grip on the butt of her gun. "Sir?"
"Things are in motion, Bordeaux. Things I could use him for." She didn't have to wonder what use King could have for the Texan; the teen was a walking weapon of mass destruction.
When the voice returned it was confident and sly. "Here's what you do."
Jaime was awoken from his power nap by a dim buzzing in his ear.
Current time: five hours and forty minutes by MST. Vitals: stable. Exterior temperature: seventy-seven degrees.
Jaime groaned and rolled over on his patch of dirt. He'd landed on some ridge in the Franklin Mountains to get some sleep. The repraize was short lived.
If Jaime wished to compromise, it was required he act before Checkmate discovered TRT.
What he wouldn't give for a snooze button. Behind closed lids, aeronautic readings and equations scrolled by. Jaime forced himself to sit up. The sky was already lightening with the hint of morning. He slowly pulled himself to consciousness. Hungry. Sleepy. His injured leg throbbed. He was immediately aware that metabolic readings were normal, neurological activity was increasing, and repairs were almost completed.
"I could eat a whole freaking cinnamon bun from Lulu's," he slurred. The famous pastry was found in a bakery in San Antonio. Whenever they traveled out east, Jaime's madre made a special trip to Lulu's so the family could feast upon a three pound piece of heaven.
He shot over town, reviewing what he knew. The suit and its artificial intelligence came from TRT. The real question was, how did it get inside him? Maybe he'd been exposed to an experimental chemical when he and Brenda went snooping around the lab wreckage. Did that mean that Brenda had a super suit too?
It was good the trip took only minutes. Jaime was having a hard time keeping himself from trying to find his familia. But as he knew — and as the suit kept reminding him whenever his mind drifted that direction — Checkmate was probably watching the hospital and his street. Those psychos had already proven they were willing to do anything to capture him, including launching freaking missiles over his house. It was safer for his familia if he stayed away. Though he couldn't help but wonder if his padre was out of ICU.
He reached his destination and dropped from the sky in a onyx streek. The building looked abandoned. Worry crawled along his skull as he searched vacant offices. Everything was cleared out. He'd been counting on this place being in use. He kept searching. This was his only clue to the origins of the suit. If he could find just one computer, he could access data on the projects they had conducted.
He came upon a locked door. That was promising. "Hey traje," he whispered. He wasn't sure why he whispered, but it seemed like the right thing to do when breaking and entering. He held up his hands. "You got a lock pick in here with all these weapons?"
Discretion: unnecessary. Subject Jaime capable of breaking the lock with single precice blow to—
"Got a lock pick?" He could almost feel the AI give an eye roll as it responded.
Affirmative.
Pressing a finger to the keyhole, the suit morphed into the lock, forming the shape of the key. It sort of tickled.
The door opened to a selent server room. Silent towers lined the walls and a mess of wires tangled the machines. Jackpot. TRT definitely had info backed up on these babies. Jaime pressed the power button on one of the towers.
Nothing.
He tried another. And another.
"Come on!" He checked the power strips and plugs.
Subject Jaime should be made aware that no electro-readings emanated from the power lines in the building.
"The power's shut off," he repeated. "Of course. Because nothing can ever go right—"
"Jaime Reyes?" a voice said from behind him.
He spun, arm already changed and ready to blast away. He faced familiar face in the doorway, the woman present at his interrogation. Checkmate! He should have listened to the suit and stayed away from here! They were going to take him back to that base and do who-knew-what to him. Had to escape. Maybe if he blasted a hole in the wall.
Blasting a hole in the opponent would be more effective.
"Stay back," Jaime spat at the woman. "I don't want to hurt you but I will!" Unlikely. The agent was lithe but solid, body hard from years of training and combat. Her eyes pinned him to the spot. If he had to bet who would win this fight, he'd put his money on her.
Inaccurate. Opponent easily neutralized with single plasma blast to the head; heart; liver—
Jaime tuned out the list of other vital organs as the woman spoke.
"Does it look like I want a fight?" Her hands were out, palms up.
He snorted. "Yeah, that's what Peacemaker said right before he stabbed me with a… Aren't you the lady who shot me?" She tried to reach for something. "Hands up, keep them up!"
Her voice was level. "Take it easy. This lab was destroyed. Whatever you're looking for is gone." She slowly retrieved a piece of paper from her pocket. "But…"
He couldn't help himself. "What?"
"There's another lab. KORD Omniversal, headquartered in Chicago. You want Dr. Havok. He was head scientist here. I think he's the one you're looking for." She extended the note towards him. He didn't take it.
He shook his head, still not sure he shouldn't listen to the suit and blast her into a fine powdery ash. "Why … Why are you helping me?"
"I'm going to leave now." Not missing a beat, she placed the note on top of one of the computers. "Peacemaker and another agent are out front. I suggest you go a different way if you don't want trouble."
"How do I know this isn't a trap?" he asked. They probably wanted to get him to a specific spot so they could drop a bomb on him or something.
Her tone was matter of fact. "Because I could have shot you in the back of the head and ended you right here." Jaime swallowed deeply. She backed away. "But I didn't." He kept the cannon trained on her as she edged out and disappeared.
He only breathed a sigh of relief when he landed safely back in the Franklin mountain range. He sat, stretching as the rising sun bathed him in warmth. It was weird the way he could feel its heat through the armor.
"I can't trust anything Checkmate says," Jaime muttered to himself. After everything they told him, everything they'd done to him, it was crazy to trust them! But this was exactly the information he needed in order to track down the maker of the suit.
What was he supposed to do when the people he trusted the least offered him the thing he wanted most?
Without risk, there could be no reward.
Jaime blinked at the thought. "Traje, was that you? Híjole. You're actually helpful. Why aren't you telling me to liquidize her or something?"
Vitals were targeted. It was Jaime who failed to deploy.
"This is unreal. Even you want to trust that Checkmate agent."
The AI went on a rant. There was no other word for it. Bubbles of what could only be described as anger fizzed at the edges of his mind.
Operational data: incomplete. Memory files: corrupted. Synchronization: faulty. Conjecture: backup located at secondary location. Information given by subject from Checkmate: confirmed. Leader of KORD Omniversal responsible for forced stasis of unit, possibly responsible for faulty data. Objective: retrieve backup at all costs; fulfill directive.
"You know, I start to like you, then you bring up all that 'directive' junk."
But the suit was busy bombarding him with recon techniques and the danger of failure. He took it all in stride. Maybe it was a bad sign that he was getting used to this. But at least they were finally agreeing on something, even if the suit wanted to 'eliminate all resistance' when they got to TRT headquarters.
"Chicago," Jaime repeated glancing down at the name on the paper Bordeaux had given him. He could only hope this Dr. Havok had the answers he needed and that this would be the last stop in his continental adventures.
He gave one last look over the city of El Paso. Do this, and he could get the suit off of him. He could finally go home.
Bordeaux watched out the window, but the Texan heeded her warning and was not seen. She'd almost forgotten how young he sounded. After the whole incident chasing him through town and saving Peacemaker last minute from his clutches, she expected him to be … more in control. Or out of control. Either a diabolical mastermind or a raving psychotic. But the Texan just seemed scared. Lost.
She made the call, confident he had taken the bait. "Package on its way, sir."
"Good," King's voice rumbled back. "About the other Knight… He's sniffing too close."
"He's still recovering. I could arrange an unfortunate reaction to his medication…" She knew King was more careful than that. But it didn't hurt to show she was eager to please.
"Your zeal is appreciated, Bordeaux. But that would only complicate things. Midnight is already on my case as it is. No. It's time you both return to the keep. See that it's done."
Although he couldn't see her, Bordeaux nodded. "Yes, sir." She ended the call as she exited the building and approached the other agents.
Peacemaker didn't bother waiting, hobbling over to her as fast as he could to meet her half way. "Anything?" he asked.
"Negative. This place is a dead end. We should—"
The knight shook his head, cutting over her. "We're just late to the party. The supervisor said the stuff they were working on here was very specialized. Didn't know what exactly. After the fire, they resumed production. But shortly after the department head went missing. No one else was qualified so the project was shut down. The team, equipment, all of it, was shipped back to their main branch."
Bordeaux's heart sank though her face remained passive. "That so? Where's that?" Though she already knew the answer.
There was a fire in the man's eye. "Chicago. We're on the next flight out."
loose Spanish translation as taken in context:
familia - family
híjole - oh my gosh; wow
madre - mother
padre - father
traje - suit