The Legend (26 page)

 

chapter 40

T
he guards nearest the gate are so busy talking amongst themselves that at first they fail to notice when I step right up to the bars. When they do, every face adopts an expression of complete and utter shock.

“Hi,” I smile sweetly, disarming them for a second, and then I vault the eight-foot gate and land like a cat on the other side. The others land beside me before the guards have regained control of their faculties, although I hear the astonished gasps of a few who recognise Fiona and her team. I don't wait for them to recover. Instead I sprint through them, moving so quickly that even those closest to me cannot grab hold as I pass. I can hear the moment the fighting starts behind me, but I keep my head down, moving towards the house looming ahead of me.

I burst through the front door into a large, circular hall. Grand staircases sweep up from left and right and I dash to the left as guards swarm down towards me. Knocking over the first two like bowling pins, I grab the third and throw him bodily over the banister. I am completely outnumbered, and in desperation I cast around for some sort of weapon. Spotting the NUSA flags displayed at the bottom of each stairway, I vault over the banister and grab the closest one, lifting it from its base, and spinning it in my hands. The pole is slightly smaller than a Bo staff, and not as heavy, but it will have to do. I backtrack, moving to the centre of the hall and watching as men spill down the stairs on either side of me. No one has followed me from outside and I take this as a good sign, assuming my people are managing to keep the guards at bay.

Wary of my utter calm, the guards approach cautiously, not quite sure what I am planning with the flag pole. I wait patiently, lulling them into a false sense of security, until they are close enough for my weapon to be effective. Turning abruptly to the left, I spin the staff above my head and then bring it hurtling down on a soldier's head. There is a loud crack and he drops to the ground at my feet but I am already lunging forward, and I thrust the staff into the next man's abdomen, winding him instantly. The flag whips through the air, making a humming noise, and I spin it twice, using the momentum to turn my body and face the opposite way.

The staff connects with the next man's neck, and the third takes such a powerful blow to the kneecap that it shatters. His screams of pain fill the cavernous hall, and the soldiers between me and the stairs on the left back away. I take advantage of their hesitation and race towards the staircase. I will not be able to manoeuvre the makeshift Bo once I reach the stairs, so the second my foot hits the first step I cast it aside, throwing it into an approaching soldier's face.

On the opposite stairwell, a few guards are retreating, moving back up to intersect me at the top. I crouch low as another guard looming above me on the stairs tries to seize hold of me, and his hands clutch thin air. I twist my body, sweeping him off balance and he catapults over me, tumbling to the bottom.

On the landing, I hesitate, not sure whether to go left or right. I hear the thumping of heavy footfalls, and five guards approach from the left.

“Follow the cavalry,” I mutter, running towards them instead of away, as a large cluster of men hurtle after me. Adrenalin is pumping through my veins as I let my fists fly, tossing soldiers aside almost too easily. I have always relied on Reed or Kwan or another Legion soldier to back me up in these situations and as a result I have never had to realise my full potential. As I duck and twist, moving faster than ever before and raining blows down on each new opponent, it dawns on me that the Power of Three is truly incredible. No ordinary soldier can stand in my way. One by one, the force around me is diminishing, allowing me more room to manoeuvre and, like a runaway train, I seem to be gaining momentum the longer I fight.

Suddenly three men grab me from behind, trapping my arms, and I drop to a crouch, throwing my arms forward with all my strength. Two of the men slide past me over the tiled floor, and the other lands heavily to my left. I bend my arm and bring it down in a punishing blow to the top of his head.

Then I am up again and running down a long corridor. Every door but one is open. I focus on the closed door, wondering fleetingly if Fiona and her team are okay. I turn around to find that only a few soldiers remain, but they are not even attempting to follow me. With a sense of disquiet, I kick open the locked door, wondering if I am walking into a trap.

The room itself is the epitome of arrogance and grandeur. It is enormous and there is a large, open space before a crackling fire, above which hangs a portrait of Kenneth looking refined and dignified. It seems our former ally has wasted no time in adjusting to a presidential way of life. There is a drinks trolley against the far wall, and a massive panoramic window overlooks the rolling gardens at the back of the house. It takes me a few seconds to take this in, but all the while I am conscious only of the man that I came here to kill – the man who has nowhere left to hide.

Kenneth Williams is sitting at a large oak desk, a pair of glasses perched on the end of his nose. He looks younger and more able than I have ever seen him. His hair is neat and the suit that he is wearing is expensive and impeccably cut. A quick scan of the room reveals only two NUSA guards, one on each side of his pretentious presidential desk. I know instinctively that the two guards are Gifted with the Power of Three. Kenneth would not be so calm if these men were ordinary Gifted soldiers. That is why he sent Mason after me, because he had two replacements to remain behind and protect him. Still, I am only mildly concerned. After everything we have been through to get to this point, I will not give up now.

I take one step forward and the two guards move in unison, positioning themselves between me and Kenneth. Kenneth remains seated, eyeing the scene before him with bland curiosity.

“Get out of my way,” I warn his guards. “You don't have to do this.”

“We're sworn to protect the President,” the nearest one, a tall, dark-haired man announces.

“I'll get you a new one by tomorrow,” I mock. “In case you haven't noticed, Presidents are a dime a dozen these days.”

The second man, shorter, stockier, with arms the size of my thighs, smiles at that, but it doesn't reach his eyes. The first guard moves towards me.

“Winston,” Kenneth calls, halting him in his tracks. “Rebecca,” he sighs as I walk purposefully into the room, away from the open door, “it would seem I have underestimated you.” To his credit, he is remarkably composed for a man who is about to die.

“I made you a promise,” I remind him casually. “Surely you didn't think I wouldn't come looking for you?”

“Actually I presumed you would stay behind and perish with your so-called Legion, who are no doubt being slaughtered by my men as we speak.” A chill runs through me. Since the moment we left, I have forced myself not to think about what might be happening at Lakeside. “I guess you're more like me than I thought,” he adds conversationally, “far more interested in saving your own skin.”

“The Legion will not go down without a fight,” I retort. “And as for my skin – it's your own you should be worrying about.”

“Ah, because you're here to kill me, I assume.”

“Well, I certainly didn't come for a catch-up.”

“Let's get on with it then, shall we?” he smiles, opening his arms in invitation. “Although you might want to greet our guest first.”

I hear the creak of the door behind me and as it slowly swings shut to reveal the man standing behind it, I give a gasp of shock and horror.

“No,” I shake my head desperately, not wanting to believe my own eyes.

“Yes,” Kenneth counters gleefully, “I thought you might be surprised.” It makes sense now, why there were so few guards blocking my path. Kenneth had no reason to be afraid – he had three unbeatable soldiers right here in this room.

Aidan must have left the Academy just after we did. That was why he was so forceful in getting me to go – so that I wouldn't notice his own departure. It had taken us a while to find the convoy heading for Kenneth's hideout, but he would have known exactly where to go, and he had got here first.

“Aidan?” I plead, meeting the brown eyes that I have known my whole life, but finding no warmth within their gaze. “Why?” There are a million questions, but that one word is all I can manage as my throat seizes up, his betrayal more debilitating than a hundred soldiers with the Power of Three.

“Why?” he asks coldly, stepping forward and spreading his arms incredulously. “Why, Rebecca? Why do you think? You may put the well-being of countless strangers before our own son, but I won't . . . I
will
protect Alex, even if you refuse to.”

“But that's what I'm doing!” I cry. “This has all been to protect Alex – to give him the life that he deserves.”

“Are you even hearing yourself?” he sneers. “You have spent over a year in the midst of an unwinnable war. You've failed – you've failed me, Reed, your precious Legion. And Alex. How many times has Alex's life been in danger because of your foolish pride?”

“He tried to kill me,” I stammer hysterically, gesturing at Kenneth. “You've made a deal with the devil!”

“I made a deal to keep my son safe,” he replies, his voice thick with disdain. “Sometimes you have to do the unthinkable.”

The look on Kenneth's face is so smug and so spiteful, and the truth of Aidan's betrayal so cripplingly painful that for a moment I think I might black out. Somewhere in the fuzzy recesses of my mind, I recall that Aidan knew Kenneth very well – they had both lived with the Resistance while I was ensconced in the States with Eric. Kenneth had been genuinely concerned when Eric had kidnapped Aidan. Somehow, Aidan must have reached out to him and made a deal to secure his and Alex's future, at the expense of the rest of us. It is so completely unbelievable that it can only be true, and I force myself not to give in to the sudden emptiness that threatens to consume me.

Drawing in a steadying breath, I will my hands to stop shaking and I tap into the darkness that I have learned to keep at bay. With grim determination I swivel slowly to face Kenneth.

“You think that by corrupting the man I love, you've won?” I growl, my voice low and deadly. “That I will let you live?” I give a maniacal shriek of mirthless laughter and the two guards on either side of him step forward. “It might have worked,” I concede, locking my gaze on Kenneth's weathered face. “Except that you chose the wrong man.”

I don't wait for a response. Instead, I spin on the spot and kick Aidan in the chest, instinctively knowing that he moved towards me while my back was turned. I hold nothing back, not allowing my heart to override my head. I hear the dull thud as he slams into the wall behind him but I have already swivelled around to face the two guards, who have darted forward. I deflect two blows aimed at my face and kick out at the guard called Winston as he reaches for me. Winston staggers backwards, but he recovers before I have time to blink and before I can strike out at him again the shorter, stockier of the two men grabs me in a ruthless headlock.

I struggle against him, clawing at his arm, but a second later Winston grabs both my hands and pins them behind my back, twisting my arm sadistically in the process. Warily, I watch as Aidan approaches from the front, his eyes never leaving my face. He is rubbing his chest, and he winces slightly. I am pretty sure I broke a few ribs with that kick. Nobody says a word as he stops in front of me, an unreadable expression on his face.

“Give it up, Rebecca.” He shakes his head pityingly and it dawns on me that his face will probably be the last thing I ever see. I close my eyes, drawing on an image of Alex, of his beautiful, youthful face, and despite everything I take comfort in the fact that at least he will survive. “It's over,” Aidan murmurs cruelly. “Even you can't defeat
two
soldiers with the Power of Three.”

And in that moment, hope burgeons in my chest, the warmth of a thousand suns filling my entire body. In a split second, everything becomes clear to me – the real reason that Aidan went through with his procedures, and why he had been so intent on his training. He knew this would happen – he had already set his alliance with Kenneth in motion and ensured that he would be here when I finally came head to head with our most dangerous enemy. And Kenneth has absolutely no idea that Aidan has been Gifted with the Power of Three.

 

 

 

chapter 41

U
nable to stop myself, I grin up at Aidan, and then I throw myself aside as he lunges forward and grabs Winston by the throat. I hear Kenneth's yell of surprise as I land heavily on the shorter soldier, the panic in his voice impossible to miss. Filled with renewed confidence, I roll to the left and scissor my legs, bringing my heel down hard on my opponent's trachea. He automatically rolls away, clutching his throat and seized by a bout of convulsive coughing. I leap nimbly to my feet, and am only a foot away from him when I am knocked aside by Aidan, who has been thrown bodily across the room.

We land sprawled on the floor near the door and before we can scramble to our feet a tall shadow looms over us. Winston sneers down at the two of us, his face a hateful mask. Bending, he tries to grab me, but Aidan throws himself between us at the last minute and the two are soon locked in deadly combat once more. I scan the room quickly. Kenneth is still behind his desk, unable to escape with us so close to the door. His smug arrogance is gone and an expression of genuine fear has replaced it. I feel a thrill of satisfaction that Aidan has foiled Kenneth's best-laid plans. The shorter guard is back on his feet, his gaze flickering between me and the President, not certain whether to attack or defend.

Speeding across the room, I force his hand, and he engages me to thwart my obvious intention of attacking Kenneth. Over and over, he attempts to strike, but I block every blow. We are very evenly matched, but one thing becomes clear as I slowly force him backwards – Reed is truly the strongest man alive. I have fought others with the Power of Three, and yet none of them have come close to his strength. And sparring with him has made me almost as powerful. Taking the offensive, I start to fight back and soon the NUSA soldier is the one trying to dodge my onslaught of punches. A particularly brutal uppercut just clips his jaw, but it is all the leverage I need. It slows his reflexes and I power through his next block, slamming my fist into his left cheek. As his head whips around, I leap up and bring my elbow down between his shoulders, the force knocking him to his knees. Before he can react, I bring both arms down, my thumbs tucked in and I land a knife hand strike to each side of his neck in perfect unison. He slumps to the ground, and I round on Kenneth furiously, but a yell of pain near the door diverts my attention.

Winston has Aidan in a choke hold and judging by the colour of his face and the glazed look in his eyes, Aidan is almost out of oxygen. I propel myself forward, taking the few short steps at a run, and then I launch myself into the air towards them, catching Winston around the neck as I sail over him, suspended upside down above him for a second before my legs flip over and then I am arching back down to the ground, my body falling fast, taking Winston over with me. I land on my feet, Winston now behind me, my grip on his neck tightening as I use my momentum and all the strength in my arms to fling his body over, hearing the audible crack in my ear as his neck snaps. I release him and turn to face Kenneth before Winston's body has even hit the ground.

Kenneth's eyes are as round as saucers and as I move towards him he lets out a whimper of genuine terror.

“Rebecca, please,” he stammers, looking so like his frail former self that anyone else might doubt his intentions. Unfortunately for Kenneth, his pathetic display invokes no compassion in me.

“Are you okay?” I rest a hand on Aidan's heaving shoulder as I pass, my eyes never leaving Kenneth's.

“Fine,” he croaks, getting unsteadily to his feet.

I step closer to Kenneth, stopping about three yards from where he is cowering behind his desk.

“Any last words?”

“You can't do this!” he hisses. “I am the President of the New United States of America!”

“The New United States as you know it will cease to exist from this day forward,” I correct him. “The fences will fall, with you.”

“Guards!” Kenneth shrieks in panic. “Guards!”

“No one's coming,” I point out. “You sent them all out to kill me, and left yourself defenceless. You underestimated us, Kenneth.”

“You wouldn't kill me,” he pleads. “You know me. Your father spent his life protecting me. I made a terrible mistake. Please . . . forgive me.”

“Now you're underestimating
me
,” I murmur, without emotion.

I reach into my jacket and withdraw the pocket pistol I had taken from Norman's basement. There is only one bullet in the chamber, but that is all I need. I raise the gun and point it straight at Kenneth.

“The war is over,” I declare as I squeeze the trigger.