Red Awakening (Red Zone 2)

The holograph blinked out, leaving Miriam’s pristine office delightfully empty.

With a mere thought, CommTECH’s CEO connected to the screens facing her, and they were at once filled with the newsfeed. At the same time, she sent a message to her team that things were about to get worse. One second, the talking heads of the news opinion show filled the screen facing Miriam; the next, the feed cut to show the terrace on the sixty-sixth floor of the research facility.

“Miriam Shepherd has declined to meet the deadline we set for her,” Susan said into the camera. She held up the detonator, and the scientists behind her paled. Two wept openly.

Pathetic.

“We have generously extended her deadline by another hour. Be aware—all consequences of missing the deadline to establish a fair and open election lie squarely with the CEO of CommTECH. Her reluctance to disturb members of the board in relation to our demands proves once and for all that the leaders of the territories do not care about their people. Any of their people. Even their world-class scientists who make sure CommTECH’s profits keep increasing. Miriam Shepherd, tonight you will have yet more blood on your hands. When will it be enough?” Her thumb pressed on the box.

Behind her, the band around the head of one of the scientists glowed. There was a gut-wrenching scream as bloodred tears poured down the woman’s cheeks. A second later, she slumped in a heap on the stage not far from Rueben Granger. The lead scientist promptly turned gray and vomited.

Perfect.

“Clean up the mess,” Susan ordered her team. It was unclear whether she meant the vomit or the dead woman.

Wild, terrified sobbing could be heard from the crowd as the camera focused back on Susan’s face. “This is war. And war has casualties. Freedom is fighting for our children. For our future. We will no longer allow big business to enslave our people. No matter the cost.” She took a step closer to the camera. “You have one hour, and then someone else will die. You’re known for moving mountains, Miriam. Surely you can manage to get twelve board members together in that time.” The image blinked out.

This time, Miriam did throw her glass paperweight at the screen.

Chapter Nineteen

“Being the rescuer is so much better than being the person rescued,” Keiko said as they made their way into the empty penthouse apartment.

She was giddy with her success and high on the adrenaline. It was a good look on her. Her eyes sparkled, her cheeks were flushed pink, and her smile was dazzling. She threw herself into the corner of one of the vast white sofas that dominated the living area of the apartment. An apartment that was decorated in shades of cream; even the art was black and white. She stood out in the sterile space like a rose in the desert.

A bruised rose.

The marks around her ankle from where he’d grabbed her when she fell were abhorrent to him. Even though he knew they’d been put there for a good reason, he still couldn’t bear to see bruises on her skin—especially ones he’d caused.

“Is it possible,” she said, still hyper from the fight, “for someone my size to take down men bigger than me?”

“Sure.” Crouching in front of her, he gently lifted her foot and examined the red finger marks.

He needed to get some of that magic cream for it. The medical advances made in the past century were one of the few things Mace liked about his new life, and cream that helped a bruise heal at record speed was top of his list.

“Really?” she said with wide-eyed wonder.

He nodded. “With the right skills, you could be deadly. Men always underestimate an opponent who’s smaller than they are.”

“Even you?”

As she studied him, he found himself smiling. “You planning on taking me down, princess?”

“No. I’m over my anger with you.” She smiled mischievously. “Plus, now that I know you wouldn’t hit back, it just isn’t a challenge for me.”

“Smart-ass,” he grumbled.

“Seriously, Mace, you can’t do that again. There are a lot of female Freedom fighters who would be more than happy to take the advantage you gave that one.”

He shook his head. “I don’t hit women.” Not. Ever. He’d rather die first.

“Not even if you have to? To protect someone else?” Her unsaid words hung in the air between them. She was talking about herself, and they both knew it.

For the first time in his life, Mace honestly didn’t know the answer, and it tore him apart.

Suddenly, he had to put some space between them. “I’ll find some cream for that bruise.”

Striding from the room, he went in search of a first aid kit and found it in the bathroom. The cream was unopened, like everything else in the apartment, which made him wonder if Miriam Shepherd ever actually spent any time there.