Rising Tomorrow (Roc de Chere Book 1), Mariana Morgan [epub e ink reader .TXT] 📗

dead. I had no choice. No one knows what happened here. I fried the security cams—there’s nothing. I need to stay. I can find more,’ she insisted.

Gonzalez stared at her for a heartbeat and then nodded. It could easily turn into her death sentence—it wouldn’t even be a pretty one—and they both knew it. But she was right: there was intel and evidence they needed, and now Megan was the only one who could get it.

He had ordered people to their deaths before. Soldiers died in the MIS. Soldiers died serving in the Armed Forces. He might have missed the Freedom Wars by months, still completing his training, but he had seen his friends, his subordinates and his superiors die since then. But this was different.

It felt like he was abandoning her.

At best, he was leaving Megan behind to be used by Wagner to his cruel heart’s content. But there was also the risk Wagner would have her tortured for information and killed. She was, after all, Gonzalez’s aide, and Wagner might decide she wasn’t worth the risk of keeping around despite the ostentatious act of appropriating her.

Damn, not worth it. Her chances of achieving anything are small, but maybe I could do something to help the odds.

He himself was toast. Not just him as Raphael Gonzalez, but as Colonel Mathias Larsen as well. His actual identity might have been a closely guarded secret, but they had left too many clues behind for someone with Wagner’s resources not to trace them back to the MIS; no other organisation could have pulled this off. If Wagner, or people he worked for, had friends at MIS HQ or in Military Command, it wouldn’t be that hard to dig out Gonzalez’s real identity.

‘Don’t scrub my computer. Leave it as it is,’ he ordered.

Under normal circumstances, he would have fried the system with a pre-prepared virus, leaving enough damage behind that it would take Wagner days to recover the heavily garbled data. Given the circumstances, however, combing through his computer should focus Wagner’s attention on him.

‘There is a file—search for “MOH”—linked to your account that you can use as evidence you’ve been spying on me, ready to report. With luck, it will be enough for Wagner to trust you.’ He’d had that little surprise ready for weeks. There was another, similar file he had prepared for Ingram if she ever needed it.

He smiled, seeing a flicker of admiration in Megan’s eyes. He really did have a knack for planning for all contingencies. But then her eyes hardened as she lowered her gaze to look at Marco’s unconscious body.

He understood instantly. How could he not recognise the guilt she was feeling, having felt it himself so many times? She had her own get-away-free card ready that would shift any suspicion away from her, leading to Marco Schulze spending some seriously uncomfortable time at Wagner’s mercy.

He grabbed her chin and lifted her head, forcing her to look at him.

‘You have no choice,’ he said firmly, and squeezed her chin hard until she winced. ‘You did the right thing.’

The screams behind Wagner’s door died abruptly, urging Gonzalez to move on.

‘Are you ready?’ he asked Megan, his finger relaxing into something far more tender, almost like a caress.

A nod and a single tear rolling down her left cheek was her only reply.

‘Roc de Chere,’ he said clearly, and then his fist struck, knocking her unconscious.

CHAPTER 9

Somewhere in the Afro-European Alliance

Tuesday 21 April 2725

DAY 2

‘Did he make it out?’ the caller asked.

‘He did.’ The black silhouette nodded. ‘I watched it on a live feed. It was messy, but effective.’

‘The VR expert?’

‘Less lucky. In Lyon’s slums with one of his people.’

‘And you are not going to pull any strings to get them out of there?’ the caller demanded, remembering their last conversation. There was fury bubbling close to the surface, but no point in letting it show.

‘No,’ the black silhouette replied, head shaking.

CHAPTER 10

Lyon’s Slums

Afro-European Alliance

Tuesday 21 April 2725

DAY 2

‘Come on!’ Ingram pulled hard on Eloise’s arm, urging the other woman to stay close to the ground. Her breathing was restricted and each movement hurt, but the awareness of it remained mercifully distant.

Even with the XST reduced to ashes, it was going to take Wagner’s people mere hours, a day at most, to figure out that there wasn’t enough organic matter in the wreckage to account for two people. She had to get Eloise far away before then. Surviving in the slums wouldn’t have been that much of a problem if she was alone. One look at Eloise told her that doing so with the Elite woman in tow was going to be infinitely harder.

‘Come on!’ she repeated, half dragging the stunned woman off the roof through an access hatch and down a set of rusty ladders until they tumbled onto the top floor.

Once upon a time, the building they had landed on was connected to an elaborate system of underground tunnels. Only a few access points still existed, and Ingram prayed this one was still passable. Moving on the surface was not an option. The underground didn’t guarantee success but would give them cover.

The Underground City, a widespread maze comprised of various tunnels and passages, some dating back to the 4th century, was even rougher than the slums aboveground. It was ruled by the Syndicate. Protection from the Syndicate was the key to survival, but it often came at an exorbitant price. If the Syndicate wanted something, you’d better find a way to provide it.

The law was simple—only the strongest survived. While on the surface families struggled to live in something resembling normalcy, the underground passages became a home for organised crime and violence. A cunning person could achieve more there than on the surface, but they had to watch their back constantly. New gangs formed every day as the weaker ones perished.

Most of the aggression and violence were a direct result of the bitter fury and disappointment that stemmed from the System’s