Or perhaps his choice of name was more wishful thinking than a reflection of his reality, and I was reading too much into it.
Either way, the questions slipped from my mind as a loud noise came from the door at the middle of the room. Two masked men had just stepped through it, sharing the weight of a large, familiar object covered in bubble wrap. Some other men entered, also carrying a metal suit, and both pairs leaned the machinery up against the wall before tearing the wrapping off to reveal the shiny silver surface beneath. I watched the men exit, then reenter a few more times, until ten suits were standing proudly against the wall.
The crowd around us murmured in awe—it was unlikely any of them had laid eyes on this kind of technology before—while I continued watching the door. The men were now carrying in armfuls of guns and ammunition, along with an interesting selection of stealth and decoy equipment, ranging from smoke bombs to piles of spare face masks. They laid everything down on the floor next to the suits, and once they were done, dusted their hands off. One of the men closed the side door up again.
I let my eyes trail over the impressive array of equipment. The idea was to not only do a real-life tally of everything we had, but also to distribute some of the equipment today, so that it would be one less thing to worry about on the day, which was going to be stressful enough already.
Nelson had volunteered us to transport the suits to the site of the mission, because our stealth aircraft was going to attract less attention than a truck, and although it was pretty small, it’d be able to fit them with some creative use of space. The rest of the small items would be distributed evenly to whomever could carry them, and we had to trust that nobody would just steal them, because I imagined that a lot of this stuff could go for a hefty price. But then, that was the whole purpose of this meeting: establishing trust.
The front door creaking broke my train of thought once more, and I looked toward that side of the room to see Marty now inside, slipping his pad into his shoulder bag and closing the door behind him.
“Has everyone arrived now?” a deep voice with a southern lilt spoke up from a chair closer to the main entrance. A tall, slender man rose to his feet. He had dark skin and light brown eyes, from what I could make out through his disguise.
“Yeah, everyone’s been checked off the register,” Marty replied, then pulled up a spare seat and sat down.
“Good,” the other man said. His eyes swept up and down the table, which was now almost filled to the brim, with just over forty people (based on the count I did). Not everyone here was going to be on the ground during the mission, but everyone had been involved in some way or another with the operation, either in the lead-up preparations, equipment previsions, or just strategy discussion and formulation. They all had a right to be here.
This was our team.
“For those who don’t yet know, I’m Zion Rey,” the tall man said bluntly.
A round of soft ohs swept around the room, including one from me. He’d been one of the first to post in the forum after it was set up—on the thread calling for suggestions about what our first collective project might be—and I’d seen him around the forums a lot since then. I’d wager he was one of the most active members. He’d offered to be chairman and moderator of the meeting and had been coordinating with the key organizers in our group to come up with a schedule.
“So, per the agenda we agreed on, we’re going to start by introducing ourselves to each other—by our profile names, of course,” Zion went on. “So we can begin to get a little more comfortable in each other’s company. Everyone still on board?”
The question was met with murmurings of agreement, and I nodded. It was the logical place to start.
“Okey dokey, then let’s take fifteen minutes to stretch our legs and mingle.” He gestured for us all to rise to our feet, and we did so.
Though, to be honest, I was feeling awkward as hell. I had never been the type of girl who found it easy to go up to, much less strike up a conversation with, strangers. And doing it in these circumstances, when I didn’t even know who the person was behind their mask, was stomach-churningly uncomfortable. Still, I steeled myself against the discomfort as best I could and tried to be a good sport.
I cast one furtive glance around at my team to find Nelson, Jackie, and the twins already sauntering off to find some new person to speak to, and I started toward the other end of the hall, figuring I might as well throw myself in at the deep end. From the corner of my eye I noticed Jace making his way slowly around the other side, eyeing people tentatively, and I had to stifle a grin. Somehow, I doubted he was a natural “mingler” either.
My focus drew away from him quickly when a tall, broad woman walked up to me and held out a hand.
“SnowQueen, aka Winter De Ville,” she announced with a small smirk, gazing down at me through slate eyes. I remembered her from the early days of the forum too, as someone who had suggested one of the rasher ideas for our first step. And as someone whose comments and replies to other people’s posts tended to be on the brash side in general.
“Hi, Winter. RobinHood21,” I replied, accepting her hand in a shake.
“Gah. That’s the second Robin in the room. Let’s hope there isn’t a third!” She gave me a playful wink, then strode off and continued to mingle with the crowd.
I couldn’t help but gaze after her for a moment, finding her friendly manner at odds with her bullish online persona. Then again, I supposed we all came off differently online, where it was all too easy to misconstrue tone and jump to conclusions.
I continued walking, only to stop again a few seconds later when I almost bumped into Marty. I’d been meaning to talk to him anyway, just to be polite and say thanks for arranging the facility, and I was glad that he’d presented me with an easy opportunity. I looked into his blue eyes and saw a swell of tension behind them, the vulnerability of which made me feel a bit more comfortable about him in general. Because it was a natural emotion. This facility might not belong to him, but it was supposedly his contact’s, which meant he could potentially be tracked if any of us were dickish enough to rat the location out. Or if a mole got in.
It was good of him to offer, honestly, because trying to meet at a more public third-party venue, like a conference room in a hotel or pub, would have been difficult for a number of reasons. It would look ridiculously fishy if we all showed up in masks, to start with, and we’d hardly be able to spread out our equipment like we were doing here.
Marty scrutinized me for half a second, his eyes narrowing, and then there was a flicker of recognition in his irises, and his expression lifted. “Robin,” he said, sounding pleasantly surprised, and I nodded, shaking his hand.
“Thanks for offering to host this. It means a lot to all of us.”
He gave a nervous laugh. “No problem. Let’s just keep our fingers crossed that it all goes well.” He gave me a small pat on the shoulder, and then he was walking past me.
I continued making my way across the room and managed to introduce myself to eight people I didn’t remember seeing on the portal, before Zion called for us all to take a chair again.
“Okay, we’ve spent enough time on that for now,” he announced, raising his hands for everyone’s attention, and we bustled around the table to resume our seats. “There’ll be time after the meeting for more socializing. Next on the agenda is equipment. We’ll get that out of the way, and then we can move on to finalizing mission details. Any objections?” No one had any, or if they did, they didn’t make them known, so he continued. “We’ll begin with the suits then. Ground team, make your way over.”
Over a dozen people rose from their chairs, including myself, Jackie, Ant, Abe, and Jace and his two friends. Not all of the ground team would be wearing the suits during the mission, but there was no harm in all of us knowing how they worked. I noticed that six manuals for the suits had been dropped on the floor beside the weapons, and stooped to pick them up, before handing them out.
Ke
eping two back, I moved to where my group was standing, along with Jace and his friends. I handed one to Jackie, while Jace and his friends peered over my shoulder to look at mine. Mr. Montague had given us a demonstration, so I knew the basics of how the suits worked, but there wasn’t any harm in getting a refresher. Especially for those who hadn’t seen or experienced the suits before.
Before long, I had Kory walking around in a suit. He was a little shaky, but improved quickly. It gave my companions the boost they needed to give it a try, too (though I noticed Jace hanging back from volunteering), and they took turns trying out the available suits, while I had another try myself. Practicing without looking at the manual, I began walking around the room and getting a better feel for how stealthy I could be in it.
“Come to Mama!” Jackie’s voice said from behind me, and I turned to see her clunking toward me, her metal arms outstretched, and laughed. I didn’t often get to see the lighter side of Jackie, and it was nice to witness it every now and then. She was obviously having a lot of fun in these things, and I imagined a broad grin plastered to her face behind the tinted visor.
“Hey, Robin,” Kory’s voice came from my right. I glanced over and saw that he was still hogging his suit, apparently having too much fun to give someone else a turn. “Wanna dance?” His visor was popped up, so I could see the cheeky smile on his lips as he cast a look at Jace, who was still hovering around the edges of the room.
I smirked, deftly tamping down the memory his question evoked, and watched as Jace gave a deep eye roll. “Um, maybe later,” I said.
I had to admit, this little exercise felt like it was really helping to break the ice in the room. Even those who weren’t part of the ground team had gathered around us, amused expressions in their eyes as they watched us navigate in the suits. The tension seemed to be slowly ebbing, which I hoped would continue throughout the rest of the evening.
Because I really wanted to trust these people. God knew, there were so few of us to begin with. People who were not only brave enough to be part of a network like OH, but also willing to take action. With such small numbers, our only hope of achieving anything lay within how well we could cooperate with each other, and for that, trust was the most important thing.
So far, so good, at least.
After I’d walked around in my suit for a few more minutes, and saw that Jace still hadn’t gotten into one, I cautiously made my way over to him, knowing that he would sense what was coming.
“Hey, big guy,” I said with a grin, popping my visor open so he could see my face, or at least my eyes and mouth. “Why do I get the feeling you’re avoiding me?”
He gave me a tentative look. “Yeah. I’m just not sure if this is going to work for me.”
I smiled. “Well, Mr. Montague said they could be adjusted to your size, so how about we try?”
Before waiting for his answer, I popped open the front of my suit and stepped out. After taking a moment to steady my knees, I looked up at him with a broad grin. “I’ll help you.”
He heaved a sigh, an expression of deep reluctance turning his lips downward.
“Don’t look too enthusiastic,” Kory called, and I turned to see him watching us with amusement through his open visor.
Jace shot him another disparaging look, but then conceded, unfolding his arms from his chest. “All right,” he muttered. “Do your worst.”
Smiling triumphantly, I went about setting the suit to his size, with the help of the manual. First I tackled the height, and then the width, until it looked like there was a comfy enough space for him to slot into.
“Okay, be my guest,” I said, gesturing for him to step in.
He gave me another reluctant look, but then turned and backed into the space. I helped settle him in, pulling the straps across his broad chest, and then showed him how to close the front. He sucked in a deep breath, as if fearing he was about to be deprived of oxygen, before sealing himself inside.
“Okay,” I said, trying not to laugh. I could understand why a guy like Jace found this to be an uncomfortable experience. I mean, he was still getting used to tame things like tablets and websites. The suit had been quite unnerving even for me the first time. “Now let’s try to get you moving.”
I began to give him instructions, running him through the basics, and though his movements were jerky and hesitant at first, he got the hang of it surprisingly quickly, which proved to me how intuitive these really were. They were designed for construction workers who didn’t have time for complex manual study, and just needed something to get the job done. Hopefully they would be as easy for the entire team.
It could literally save our lives if everyone was comfortable inside of these, and ready to go at a moment’s notice.
I followed Jace around the room, wanting to make sure that he felt supported in his foreign new body. Not that I would’ve been able to do much for him if his six-foot-four, metal-clad body suddenly went tumbling, but I didn’t need to mention that.
After ten minutes, I was happy to see that his grimace had turned upside down, and he was smiling.
“Okay,” he conceded, giving his metal arms and fingers a flex, popping his visor closed, and then opening it again. “This is pretty damn neat. Though I still worry about flexibility. We’re obviously not going to be as dexterous in these as we would be without them. And I’m not sure I want something weighing on me and slowing me down.”
“Try running in it,” I said, pointing away from the crowd and toward an emptier area of the warehouse near the back.
He did as I suggested, positioning himself apart from the crowd and moving into a jog… and then, as his confidence grew, a full-out run. The clunking of his feet on the floor was loud—there was a thin layer of rubber on the metal soles for grip, but it wasn’t enough—so we were definitely going to have to do something about that. But his movements were amazingly fluid, which was the main thing. Granted, those metal fingers weren’t going to be great for detail work, like picking locks or using a keyboard, but that was why the plan was for not all of us to be wearing them.
He flipped his visor open, a contemplative expression in his eyes as he reached my side again. “You’re right, they’re fast, and don’t decrease speed as much as I thought. And I think—”
Whatever he was about to say was cut off by a sudden sharp popping sound, and a split second later, the ceiling lights went out, plunging the warehouse into pitch darkness.
28
Everyone’s reaction was the same for a long moment. Complete silence reigned around the large room, as if we were all waiting for the glitch to be over and the lights to turn back on. But they didn’t.
My nerves immediately spiked, and I found myself moving instinctively toward Jace, my left hand slipping into my pocket for my phone, my right moving to my gun. I woke up my phone screen to create some light in the room, just as a dozen others had the same idea. A scattering of small, rectangular screens illuminated their immediate areas, though it didn’t do much to beat back the shadows.
“Marty?” Zion’s deep voice spoke up. “Think you could check out what’s happened to the lighting?”
We all gazed around expectantly, trying to make out our host in the shadows, but I couldn’t find him, and if he was present, he wasn’t answering.
“Maybe he’s in the bathroom,” someone suggested. “It’s around the side of the building.”
Four people took off toward the middle exit, and I heard one of them pulling down on the door handle. But it wasn’t followed by the creaking of a door opening. Instead, there were several sharp exhalations, followed by, “Try the other doors. This one’s locked.”
My heart beat faster as Jace and I hurried toward the exit at the end of the room, which was closest to us. Jace reached it first, his metal hand gripping the handle and thrusting downward while I cast light with my phone. But this one was locked too.
“All exits are locked!” a shaky voice announced from the other end of the warehouse.
>
“Marty?!” I called out, unable to keep the tremor from my voice. I couldn’t believe it. I’d had an uneasy feeling about him from the start, but I hadn’t really thought it would actually come to anything.
Oh, God. Why the hell did I let my guard down? How could I have let myself get so far from the exits? If I’d been paying attention…
Half a dozen others began calling his name too, and more people flooded to the doors, taking their turn in trying to open them.
Meanwhile, my worst fears blossomed to life in my mind, as the darkness continued to press in on us, the sounds of people trying to force the doors growing louder. Was Marty a rat working for the government? Had he been acting since the beginning? Playing along so he could get us all in one place? He had been on Nathan’s trusted list, and other members’ experiences with him, as well as Jace’s and my meeting with him, had all been positive. But of course, as Jace had already warned us, the vetting process was nowhere near bulletproof. We had all been taking a calculated risk in coming together at all.
And now I was terrified that it had just blown up in our faces.
“We gotta force this door!” I whispered to Jace, my voice choked. For all we knew, the cops could be closing in as I spoke. And if we didn’t get out in time, they’d catch us all like sitting ducks, snuffing out any chance of a rebellion before it could even get off the ground. The thought made my throat dry up, my eyes sting with fear and regret, and the vision of that bloodstained office returned to my mind.
I turned to see that Jace had already begun trying to force the door, his metal fingers attempting to wedge between the double doors, searching for leverage. I had just whirled back around to scan the room, looking to beckon another suited person to help him, when a speaker crackled to life from somewhere overhead, and a familiar voice boomed down.
“Do as I say, and nobody needs to get hurt.”