Not Your Villain (Sidekick Squad #2)(25)

“What…” What is he playing at?

“Son, I remind you that you are an asset, a valuable one who’s always done as he’s told.” Kingston levels an icy smile at him. “I know things might be a bit confusing, and people might present an alternative interpretation of what the League is doing, but I assure you, this is for the good of everyone.”

A chill runs down Bells’ spine. He can’t believe it goes this far—not only Orion and the League being corrupt, but one of the central figures in the Collective government saying that torturing people is good?

“It’s quite simple, son. Return the asset, and I guarantee you, your heroic actions today will go down in history.”

Bells bristles; he used to find it amusing when Kingston called him son, as if the old man was trying to be grandfatherly. In his speeches, too, he referred to the citizens of the Collective as his children. Bells can see now; it’s just another way for Kingston to manipulate people, to use feelings of affection for his own purposes. “I joined the League because I thought we were helping people. And now I see the League is lying to them.”

“Well then, things are going to become very, very difficult for you soon, Barry.”

The line goes dead.

“Whatever,” Bells mutters, and he makes a rude gesture at the nearest camera. He ducks into the hallway where Genevieve is now standing up.

“Feeling better?”

Genevieve nods and, to his relief, she starts walking at a brisk pace and then falls into a run behind Bells as they navigate the labyrinth of hallways. Lights flicker to life as they run past. Motion sensors. These hallways are definitely not abandoned.

They turn a corner, and Bells spots movement at the end of the hallway: someone walking past.

Bells pulls Genevieve into an alcove and waits until the footsteps fade.

“Come on.”

They race down the hallways until Bells spots a sign projected on the wall. “Please don’t be locked,” he mutters.

“It wouldn’t be,” Genevieve says. “The guards here are too lazy.”

He flicks at the projection and exhales when it responds to his touch. Bells scrolls past schedules and notes from guards and finally finds a map. He studies the layout and notes the flickering “You Are Here” label and a handy guide to the bathrooms. Guess the employees have difficulty navigating the place.

Bells locates the main entrance where they came in; that’s the exit they want. However, to access the mainframe computer room, they’ll have to take a little detour.

Abby’s DED has been a solid weight in his pocket reminding Bells of their task; he takes it out now so it’s ready to go, dangling from his wrist strap as they enter the mainframe room.

Ominous machines line the walls. They are barely visible in the dark, aside from their flickering lights. They don’t look like anything Bells has seen. These machines are bygones from another century when computers stored information.

He hopes they can transmit information too.

Bells runs his hand along one smooth surface. It’s warm to the touch and hums. He doesn’t see anything resembling a port into which they can plug Abby’s DED.

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Bells says.

“I know how to contact my husband from any console.” Genevieve scans the computers, selects a drawer, and presses a button; a small keyboard and display projects into the air.

A series of codes, unlike any Bells has seen, appears, and Genevieve types a long string of numbers and characters.

“What is that?”

“Basic command line interface,” Genevieve says. “Are you interested in coding?”

“No,” Bells answers honestly. “How long is this gonna take?”

“Almost done.” Genevieve types fervently and the line of code disappears. “Just sent a message to my husband on his private line. If he is able to access it, he’ll see it. None of the NAC can break into it.”

“Good. Now can you upload this file to the Net for nationwide broadcast?”

Genevieve frowns. “At the level you need for this to be effective, it’d be a task for him. Here, log into my ID on your DED, and we’ll be able to see any messages from him.”

Bells lets her tinker with the DED; he can hear shuffling outside and pokes his head out to check. Sure enough, guards are walking down the hallway. He takes a deep breath. “Okay, time for the disguise. We need to be touching for it to work. Arm around your shoulder, okay?”

Genevieve nods.

Bells finds the clean lines of the guard uniform easily and barely changes the details of Genevieve’s face. He lifts her brow, gives her a square jaw, and turns the vivid red of her hair into blonde. It won’t take much energy to hold these small changes. He makes himself taller, ages his features, and adds a bushy beard.

“How incredibly useful,” Genevieve says, nodding in approval at their likenesses in the reflection from a computer panel.

He and Genevieve walk down the hallway, out of the building, and then out the front gate. Bells feels Genevieve relax and he nudges her. “Keep walking and stay casual,” he mutters. “They’re not looking at us, but if we start running they definitely will find it suspicious.”

They walk into the parking lot until he can feel his power fading fast. He drops the face and body disguises, but keeps the clothing shifted; he can’t let their guard uniforms disappear.