The Galilee Falls Trilogy (Book 3): Fall of Heroes (13 page)

Phone call? No one knows I’m here. “Who is it?”

“Your ex. He sounds…forceful.”

Oh Jesus Fucking Christ you are shitting me. I wipe and flush before hustling out of the bathroom where Bennett stands at the door, phone in his hand. I snatch it. “How the hell did you get this number? Are you out of your fucking mind? I told you to stop—”

“Where are you?” Jem cuts in.

“None of your goddamn business! You are really starting to freak me—”

“Joanna, just stop talking,” he orders through gritted teeth. “Stop! This is…Guardian, Code Pink. Repeat: Code Pink.”

My mouth snaps shut as my stomach clenches. Fuck.
Fuck.
When Jem went back in the field we came up with a shorthand code system. Blue means call the police to his location, Green I’m needed at the scene, Purple is he’s been unmasked and we need to enact the Houdini Protocol, and Pink meaning
I’m
in immediate danger and need to flee. Just…fuck. “You sure?”

“Yes. Just tell me where you are so Captain O’Hara can dispatch a squad car to collect you.”

“You’re with Harry? What happened? Is—”

“Joanna, just give me the address! Now!”

I glance at the confused Bennett. “Um, The Firebrand Hotel. The Executive Suite.”

Jem repeats the information to someone, who responds, though the words are muffled. “O’Hara’s sending a car now. Do not leave until they get you. Are you armed?”

“Um, no.”

“Three minutes,” I think I hear Harry say in the background. “Grovner and Parker.”

“Did you hear him?” Jem asks.

“Yes. But what the hell is happening?”

“What’s going on?” Bennett asks, now more concerned than confused.

“There, uh, was a prison break at Xavier,” Jem says.

“Oh my God. Who escaped?”

There’s a pregnant, bile inducing pause before he says, “Everyone. Every supervillain housed there has vanished. They’re just…gone. Including him. He’s free, Joanna. They all are.”

Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit… “Fuck.”

“The officers will escort you home. Then you know what to do, right? Pack, check into a hotel under an assumed na—”

“I remember the protocol. I’ll call you when I get to the hotel.”

“Good. I’ll see you as soon as I can. I love you.”

“I lo—” I stop myself. “See you soon.” I end the call and close my eyes to better concentrate on quelling the rising panic about to overtake my much needed wits.

“Fallon, what the hell is going on?” Bennett asks.

This is bad. This is fucking apocalyptic. I can’t go through this again. I can’t—

Someone grips my shoulders. “Joanna!” Bennett’s shake forces my eyes open. “Tell me what’s happening. What protocol?”

“I…uh…Ja-James Ryder’s escaped from prison again. They-They
all
escaped. I, uh, you-you should probably leave town. You should go. I-I…” Need to collect my shit because the police are coming for me. Because my life is in danger. Again. I move to the desk and begin gathering papers.

“You should come with me.”

I spin around. “What?”

“We could go somewhere. Thailand, Australia. We could work on The Society. Do it on the beach. You’d be safe. We could even have separate bedrooms if you want. Or you can go alone.”

It is an idea. A good idea. If I’d run the last time, or the time before that, I wouldn’t have nightmares every week. I wouldn’t have literal scars. But there is a reason I didn’t run. Why I didn’t hide. If I’m the target, my friends, my family, innocent people could be drawn into this mess. That is Ryder’s M.O. after all. And I couldn’t hide forever.

“That’s nice of you, Bennett, but I’ll be fine. This is all just a precaution.”

“So what’s this protocol you mentioned? You going to be tied to a stake in the town square covered in blood to lure them all to you?”

“No, I’ll be in a hotel, which I’m not supposed to leave, under a false name.”

“Will I be able to see you? Call you? What about—”

“I don’t know!” I scream. “I don’t know anything right now! Stop asking me questions! I don’t—I—”

“Hey, hey,” he says, striding toward me. My friend wraps his arms around me in what I think is supposed to be a comforting embrace. I’m too hyped up to appreciate the gesture, but find myself hugging him back anyway. “It’s okay to be afraid. I’d be shitting myself. But it’ll all be okay. You’ll see. And I’m here for you. I mean it. Call and I’m there.”

“Thank you.” I remove myself from his grasp and half smile to reassure him. “You—”

The telephone rings by the bed. Guess my escort’s here. Bennett walks over to answer it while I collect the last of the papers. “Hello?” Bennett asks. “Yes, I am.”

“Ask their names,” I say.

“What are the officer’s names?” He listens. “Parker and Grovner.” I nod. “Send them up. Thank you.” Bennett hangs up and sighs. “Well, this night didn’t turn out as I’d envisioned.”

I slip on my shoes. “Sure you still want to partner with me?”

“Is it always like this?” he asks as he approaches.

“Sometimes it’s much,
much
worse.” I shrug on my coat and grab my purse and the box. “But if I do get kidnapped and tortured again just think of the publicity The Society will get.”

Bennett stops a foot in front of me. “Is it terrible I was just thinking the same thing?” he asks with a smile.

I can’t help but chuckle. Not even the knock on the door stops the black mirth. Gallows humor, my favorite kind. “Miss Fallon?” a man says on the other side of the door. “Captain O’Hara sent us.”

“My squad car awaits,” I say to Bennett.

“And my jet is fueled,” he parries. “Frolicking, fun, fucking. Yours for the taking.” His smile dims a little. “You
can
sit this one out, you know. You don’t owe anyone a damn thing. You’ve done enough, Joanna. More than enough. Just come with me, gorgeous.
Please.
”

And here I thought he didn’t have a serious bone in his body. The man’s positively grim right now. Before I can stop myself, I kiss him. Our first. Quick and sweet. “It’s never enough, playboy. But we gotta keep trying, right? Because if we don’t, who will?” I kiss him again and smile. “I’ll call when I can.”

Smile still affixed, I pick up my box and walk toward the door. Through the peephole I see the officers. I recognize Parker from the wedding. What a way to reconnect. I open the door. “Hey, Parker.”

“Fallon,” he says with a nod.

“Shall we?” I give Bennett one last smile for the road. “See you around, playboy.”

“That a promise?”

“God willing.” I pucker my lips to blow him a kiss before returning to my new friends. “Okay boys, take me away.”

And once again I’m thrust into the freaking fray that threatens to consume Galilee Falls. It must be a day that ends in “Y.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

At Your Peril

It is a damn good thing I recently spent a week in an alcohol coma because I don’t think I’ll be getting more than an hour of sleep here or there for the foreseeable future. Diamanda, the Society, life in general including trips to the Land of Nod will have to wait. First order of business is fleeing.

The officers escort me to my apartment where I quickly pack two large suitcases, a satchel full of weapons and disguises, my Society box, and Doris Jr. My bodyguards help me carry them back to the squad car then drive me to the nearest hotel, where I check in, quickly slap on my Missy disguise, gather by bags again, and double back to my apartment to get my Accura. Part of the Pink Protocol is no one but Jem knows my location. Joanna checked into the Intercontinental and Missy checks into the Extended Stay across town with a month paid up front in cash. Welcome home, Missy.

My body wants me to climb into the lumpy bed and sleep until noon, but my brain would never allow it. I switch on the TV as Doris Jr. boots up. Local news is on the story, cutting into early morning infomercials, but we haven’t gone national yet. Looks like they’ve kept the press on the city side of the drawbridge but police and news helicopters circle the island. Skip Martin on Channel 6 appears to have little information, just that there was a major incident at Xavier Maximum Security Prison. The police and Feds are keeping mum about how many people are involved, if there are any fatalities, yeah they know nothing. I switch it off when the reporters begin rehashing the last major incident, the Alkaline/Justice nightmare. No doubt every news hound in Galilee is hoping for Round Two with yours truly in the ring this time. I pray they’ll be shit out of luck.

I sit at the chipped, slightly sticky table in front of Doris and call up the Moonlight video and audio links. Judging from the white cinder block walls and tiny bed, Jem’s standing in a prison cell. “Guardian online,” I say into the headset.

I must startle him because the camera on his head jolts. “Guardian? Are you okay?”

“I’m at the Extended Stay on Kirby, room seven under the name Missy Royal.”

“Okay. Good. Thank you.” He pauses. “And I’m sorry if I inconvenienced your boyfriend. Your old number was disconnected and I knew—”

“Just get me up to speed, Moonlight,” I cut in. “It’s past two am. I’m exhausted.” And he’s not my boyfriend. “What the hell happened?”

“A call came in just before midnight, around 12:30 to Warden Myers’ and 911. The entire prison population, save for the guards in the watchtowers, were rendered unconscious for approximately two hours by a volatile anesthetic gas. I’m not sure what kind yet, the canisters have no labels, but whatever it was left everyone with headaches, nausea, and double vision. Those who weren’t already asleep report muddled thinking, growing tired, and falling unconscious within a minute. This was across the board in all four cell blocks, each of which has its own heating unit therefore its own timed canister. The surveillance system wasn’t tampered with. The recordings show that five minutes after the last guard passed out, a team of sixteen men, all wearing gas masks, black hooded sweatshirts, and black jeans exited a manhole leading to a storm drain they must have cut the bars on previously. The men came through the storm drain, out the manhole, into D block with a key and keycard, then entered the control room to open all the cells in the Hardcore Unit. Thirteen stayed to load the thirteen villains on the block into body bags which they then carried out, while the other three used two pilfered key cards and keys they took from the unconscious guards to access the lower level. Those three loaded Ryder and the other two, Jericho’s Tombstone and Lake City’s Magnus, into bags and like the rest were carried back to the manhole and presumably to an awaiting boat. In and out in fifteen minutes.”

“And they only took those with powers?”

“Haquim Chaplain, the terrorist responsible for the DeConnick Street bombings a decade ago, remains in his cell right beside where Ryder was housed. All other prisoners are accounted for. All the guards and support staff on duty as well. No fatalities either. Yet. Who knows what long term effects the gas could have. I’ll know more when their blood samples come back.”

“Shouldn’t people be wearing gas masks?”

“GFPD Hazmat cleared the buildings. Besides elevated levels of nitrogen and carbon, the air is normal. Now. We’re all experiencing headaches, some responders nausea as well, but nothing debilitating.”

“Have you personally reviewed the footage?” I ask.

“Yes. It should be loaded into the GFPD database soon. They were professional. Precise. Fluid. I’d guess ex-military. They knew exactly where to go. What to do. No mis-steps.”

“What about the canisters?”

“No fingerprints or distinguishing marks. The heater in C Block was repaired three days ago, and I assume they installed the gas then. GFPD is already onto the repair company, but they’ve had a contract with the prison for over a decade.”

“So there’s the heating company, the canisters, and the gas as leads,” I say as I jot that down. “Plus the guards and staff. There’s usually an inside man involved.”

“Over 150 people work here. That’s a lot of vetting.”

“Well, lucky for you someone quit her job yesterday and can’t leave her hotel room. But I think we can rule out Ryder’s guards in Super Max. They’re still on my payroll, which you should probably tell Harry in case he dives into their financials and finds the monthly payout.”

“I will. When was the last time you spoke to Ryder?” Jem asks.

“Couple days ago.”

“And how was he?”

“Helpful. Normal. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

“You didn’t tell him…about—”

“Of course not,” I snap.

“I’m sorry. I simply…it-it would just explain why
now
.”

“Moonlight, he’s not the only prisoner missing,” I point out. “Maybe Ryder had nothing to do with this. Any one of them could have orchestrated this. They were all supervillains, they all had henchmen and criminal networks before getting arrested. And besides those five guards
I’m
the only one Ryder had recent contact with.”

“That you know of. His guards already accepted one payout, it certainly makes taking another that much easier,” Jem says.

He has a point. “Fine. They’re back in the suspect pool. But that still doesn’t mean Ryder was the mastermind. If he were the only one missing, then hell yes, he did it, but I very much doubt he’d pay to have the others busted out too. He hates Chameleon almost as much as he hated Justice. In fact, none of these guys are exactly best friends. So why take all of them?”

“Misdirection? Someone on the outside needs them all?”

“You think some psycho is putting together an evil supervillain boy band? To what end?”

“World domination?” Jem suggests.

“I suppose Earth is due for another world domination plot. It’s been almost fifteen years since Dr. Avatar’s weather dominator.”

“All we do know for a fact is right now over a dozen megalomaniacal murderous superpowered villains are loose in the world, one of whom has attempted to kidnap and murder
you
.”

“Actually, if anything, he’ll probably be gunning for you, Dr. Ambrose.”

“Why?” Jem asks.