Page 89 of Mind Maze

“Yeah, man, we’re done.” I pull out another handful of bills, making sure to give him double what I gave the other guy. “Thanks for the intel.”

He takes the money, pockets it, and then says, “Good luck with that dude in there. Probably has bombs strapped to his chest or some shit. It’s always the quiet ones.”

Indeed, it is always the quiet ones.

Once he heads down the steps and takes off, I make my way into the building. It’s not super busy. I’m unsure what sort of building it is. The lobby is nondescript and has no signs or markings.

The man who stands in the middle, staring out the windows toward the hotel, is none other than the asshole from the café. He’s back and in super soldier mode.

“Supernova,” I say firmly.

Nothing.

I go through several other variations of commands we’ve used on the CUP Stars. He doesn’t respond to any of them. Last time, he’d snapped out of it after someone called him. Carefully, I approach him, and keep my voice low.

“I’m taking your phone,” I state, eyes boring into him. “I’m not asking.”

The man says nothing. Just stares like a fucking robot.

I pat him down until I find his phone. He has several missed texts and calls from “Wifey.” From the preview, it sounds like she’s freaking out that he hasn’t come home. I use his face to unlock the phone and skim through his call log and messages.

Sure enough, there’s an unknown number that called him around the time I’d encountered him. There aren’t any other calls from this number.

This doesn’t feel like the work of CUP and my father, but I could be wrong. I need to get this guy to snap out of it so I can drill him with questions.

Could VEIL be responsible? They’re into their own stream of shit with the media. Maybe they’re upping their game, trying to become more powerful. I need to get both Dad and Gideon in the same room so I can get to the bottom of this.

The phone in my hand begins to ring, a strange sound that I wish I’d thought to record, and the man jolts into awareness. He swivels around and glowers at me.

“You again,” he growls. “You fucking stalking me, man?”

“Other way around,” I snap back. “Who did this to you? Who sent you?”

The man snags his phone from my hand and takes off. I curse, rushing after him. It’s evident he works out and keeps in shape because the second we make it outside, he launches himself down the steps effortlessly before shooting away from me like a rocket.

I’m fit, sure, but I’m not built to chase soldiers through a city in fucking loafers.

He runs quickly, but he’s definitely confused. As in he has no idea in hell where he is or how he got here. Each time he stalls at a street corner, figuring out which direction to go, I gain on him.

He has his phone out as he runs, furiously mashing buttons. Then he watches as cars drive by. With a risky move, he darts out in the middle of traffic, narrowly missing getting hit by a huge bus. I nearly ram into the side of the bus that screeches on its brakes as it nears a car stopped in front of it. I bark out a curse and rush around the damn thing. Across the road, the soldier guy is slipping into what must be a Lyft or Uber.

And then he’s gone.

Dammit.

I’m panting hard and can feel blisters forming on my feet because these shoes aren’t meant for running in. All that for nothing. I start walking back the direction I came in, dreading the several block walk back.

Buzz.

My phone alerts me to a text. It’s a good excuse to take a break. I sit down on a raised concrete planter, my ass already hating the cold concrete.

Unknown Number: Things seem to be unraveling for you.

I snap my gaze up and scan the area around me to see if I can spy this asshole who’s watching me.

Me: The elusive S.

Unknown Number: You haven’t forgotten me. I’m flattered.

---