Convergence - The Last Science #2.2 - Heroes and Villains

B2: Chapter 33 - Self-Made - II

  Thursday night wasn't any better, as Jeremy once again only got a few hours of sleep. Sure, he'd fallen asleep right away, but that didn't help much when he kept waking up in the middle of the night, hand clutching his pistol, half-expecting someone to have teleported into his room with intent to kill. Motherfucking magic...

  Grumpy and exhausted, Jeremy sipped his coffee as he rode the bus across Seattle to meet with Kendra. Public transit was as crowded as ever, with the steady growth of incoming pilgrims—as Cinza called them, and as someone in the media apparently agreed with—looking to awaken. They stood out by their attitude alone, and the bus divided itself quite evenly between the excited magic-seekers and the usual nine-to-five crowd. No one crossed the line or said anything, but there was such an obvious undercurrent of hostility that Jeremy half-expected it to erupt into a gang war somehow.

  It didn't, of course, but he could feel the tension in the air. Something had to give sooner or later. The public wasn't really involved yet, despite all appearances. Every little skirmish was just Hailey and Brian's men, or Hailey and Malton's. Sure, a few bystanders got caught up, but the public didn't have a clue what was really going on.

  Maddie, you'd better hurry up and figure out if Rachel's legit or not... I don't know how much longer we can keep this up. Lines are already gettin' drawn.

  Jeremy stepped off the bus and found, to his surprise, an unassuming little office stuck right in between a coffee shop and a supermarket. It was so far removed from the extravagance he expected, he laughed aloud. He tossed his coffee into the trash can by the door and strode past the little sign on the wall advertising Wilmore Ventures. As soon as he took a step inside, the scent of his coffee vanished, along with the sounds of the city.

  "Mr. Ashe, Miss Wilmore is expecting you," said the receptionist, before Jeremy could even open his mouth. The young man pointed him through the back into a rear office, where Kendra Laushire herself was busy typing away on her laptop. She glanced up at the clock, brushing her curly red hair out of her eyes.

  "You're early, Mr. Ashe."

  "Figured you didn't want to be kept waitin'," said Jeremy, taking the nearest chair. It was comfortable, if a bit plain, and he relaxed his legs gratefully. "It's only seven fifty-five."

  "Indeed." Kendra tapped a few more keys and spun her laptop around, showing Jeremy the screen. "This is why I called."

  Jeremy leaned in close. It was security camera footage of the building's entrance, dated from the night before. Two men walked right up to the door and tried to break in. The picture was crystal-clear, and as one of the men turned away in futility, Jeremy caught a glimpse of his face.

  "Son of a bitch," he muttered.

  "I assumed you'd recognize him," said Kendra, nodding with satisfaction. "The unfortunate incident in Tacoma, correct?"

  "How the hell did you know him?" asked Jeremy. "They wouldn't accept my testimony, let the motherfucker walk. He dropped off the radar." He glared at the face frozen on the monitor—a face he'd last seen holding a gun to the old man's head in a bar, the day he'd met Hailey.

  "The video published on the night of the interview contained two frames in which a partial badge number was identifiable, after a reconstructive algorithm was applied," said Kendra. "Not enough to convict, mind you, but I was convinced after I heard he'd taken a leave of absence from the Tacoma Police Department."

  "And now he's tryin' to break into your office." Jeremy put his hands to his forehead. "Shit."

  Kendra nodded. "Quite." She closed the laptop lid and folded her hands on top. "It seems Mr. Hendricks has discovered my place of business."