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"Citizens of the deceitful Sovereign..."
Thanks to those words, the streets devolved from ghostly to frenzied in the blink of an eye. Sobriety was nowhere more engraved than on Stockwell's gaunt and tired eyes as they stretched to the sky. Exploiting his mental stagger, Jessica snuck closer.
"How does it feel from this point of view?" she seethed. When Stockwell lividly met her gaze, his mouth was wide open. He reared his head and started running. His drunken sidewalk jaunt, however, led to an immediate stumble.
Jessica shoved past random pedestrians, dauntless. But in seeking to catch the man, she found his bar lackeys in her path. Their interference boiled the veins in her fist and caused her to mindlessly shove against them.
"Let me go!"
"What's your deal, girl?" one of them barked. A mysterious hand thrust and grabbed him from behind.
"You should let her go."
Stockwell's companion looked over his shoulder. The crazy hooded woman, faster than he could react, punched his nose and sent him reeling. She invited the rueful attention of the others. From a fighting stance, she quickly kicked the next assailant's cheekbone. Rattled by the mysterious kicker, Stockwell's friends allowed Jessica to slip free.
Drunkenness chased by pure fear ruined Stockwell's balance. Her target stumbled, disoriented, and so she tackled him to the ground then swiftly pushed herself upright. When the man's glasses fell, his pale eyes tossed in every direction. He began crawling away on his back.
Gait uncompromising, Jessica thrust aside the hoodie and strapped her black glove. She saw enough life in Stockwell's eyes, enough fear. A yelp later, he backed into an advertisement pole, where he saw his own face – In the playback, he was a resistance leader; in the real world, he was a cowering actor; in both, he was a terrorist. And he was pinned by the eyes of the Lynx.
Jessica stopped a few feet from his face, arresting his gawk of terror, and let the anger spill from her mouth. "Why the fuck did you do it?"
"I—"
"Don't even try!" She lurched and pulled the coward's hair into a bundle, making him shriek until his face merged with his own holographic likeness. "Why did you have to murder so many innocent people?"
"Hey, miss!" a voice yelled from behind. It was NSS, but she didn't care.
"You're gonna confess!" She pushed Stockwell's face into the pavement. "A terrorist's luck doesn't last!"
Hands over his own head, the shivering actor whimpered, "I didn't know what I was doing!"
"Pretend you're looking at their faces!" Jessica crunched her teeth at the sorry man. Impatience secreted down her skin, intensified by the arrival of security. They were accompanied by the crazy woman in a poncho, and Stockwell's friends were nowhere to be found.
"I didn't know I would actually kill anyone!" Stockwell rambled on. Trembling, he gasped, "It was supposed to be a regular gig: auto-crew, lights, camera, paid lodging..." The two security officers halted just a few meters away, dubious. then inched closer.
"Ma'am, this isn't a safe place. What is wrong with this man? Is he your friend?"
Jessica ignored everything else and raged in the neon light. Stockwell continued groveling on the floor. Before he got comfortable, without remorse, she grabbed and lifted him by his coat collar. "How did you bypass the countdown?"
"A phone... I didn't know it would blow up a building!"
Jessica let go; and as the sounds of the city returned, the wind brought something else. Chills lifted her watery eyes beyond the web of lights and to the night sky, while Stockwell continued his fetal murmuring.
"I was told to stay in my room. Nearby—told to standby."
The mysterious woman's hood came down at that moment, revealing Shannon. In front of Shannon, security eyed Stockwell's sorry state. They exchanged glances before one of them unhinged a pair of plastic cuffs.
"Who gave you a phone detonator?" Jessica demanded.
If Stockwell answered, she did not hear. An airship dropped from the city skyline then, supplanting the urban panic with a mechanical roar. It hovered in place, a dozen or so meters away, when the beak steered.
Malvis leaned out of the cabin, face scarred on one side with mild sears. He leaped from the deck and onto the asphalt, followed by two Asgard lackeys. Shannon hopped to Jessica's side, and both women stared at the staunch alien as he prostrated forward. They backed away, slowly.
"I knew you would find him, eventually," said Malvis, stopping just short of the miserable Stockwell. He looked down, examining him through a lens, then dragged his gaze back. "You are too resourceful for anything less."
Jessica glared, imagining that elusive opportunity to punch the lights out of him.
"Sir, the man below you just confessed to an act of terrorism," said security.
Since the Emergency Response Channel was still spurring citywide excitement, no one paid attention. Ahead of Malvis, his bodyguards suddenly stunned the human security duo into the ground. Their bodies shook as the agent tread over them.
"We have to run, Jess," said Shannon.
"Split up, girl!"
"No way."
"They don't want you, Shannon. DO IT!" Jessica snapped. She could feel Shannon's hesitation before they both turned their feet the other way. Neither looked back at their pursuers. For that matter, they couldn't tell if they were being pursued. Jessica ran over the speed of her heartbeat. But even in desperate flight, she sought something, someplace.
Speed. she needed to be fast minus her gravity board. Past the chaotic fray of city lights and fleeing lives, she eventually found the building she sought. It was an old-fashioned tower of brick and mortar. Inside, there was nothing but an empty lounge, an unmanned front desk, and another screen playing Stockwell's face. A glance back, beyond the doors, she saw Asgard chasing. Luckily, a flight of stairs led to the roof.
ns 15.158.61.20da2
