King had lifted his gaze to meet Slater’s and said, ‘Why don’t you take a break? I’ll be here.’
Slater had nodded.
Now, he steadied himself against the windowsill. He wasn’t sure whether his equilibrium was still compromised or not — frankly, he didn’t have the energy to test it.
One night, he thought.
All this happened in one night.
The surreality dawned on him. Overnight, they’d almost lost the most populated city in America for months. Four kids barely out of their teens had possessed the key to avoiding anarchy in their own heads, and if all four had bitten down on the cyanide pills, the entire New York power grid would have been lost.
He couldn’t fathom it.
Couldn’t accept it.
It would be a long, rocky road ahead for certain government departments. He couldn’t stop thinking about the massive changes that had to be implemented. But as King had reassured him, that wasn’t his fight. He and King weren’t bureaucrats. They weren’t system builders. They built their own bodies, and their own minds, and they went wherever the fight was, and they tried to leave the world a little better than they found it.
And really, that’s about all they could manage.
Broken and battered, he focused on his breathing and tried to bring some normalcy back into his existence.
A moment later, King and Letty stepped out of the vault.
Slater looked at them.
Letty stared down at her feet.
Deep in the clutches of shame.
King gave a single nod. ‘It’s done.’
Slater exhaled.
Letty said, ‘I’m so sorry.’
King didn’t respond.
Nor did Slater.
She said, ‘What happens now?’
‘That’s not up to us,’ King said.
‘You said…’
‘I said I’d put in a good word,’ King said. ‘And I will. But we don’t run things. We’re the ones who get sent in when everything’s gone to shit. We’re the last resort.’
‘I figured that meant you’d just kill me.’
King shook his head. ‘Not our style.’
‘You probably should kill me. I deserve it. People died tonight, didn’t they?’
‘They did.’
‘Is that why you’re not telling me that everything’s going to be okay?’
King looked at her. ‘Nothing’s going to be okay for you, Letty.’
She stifled a sob.
‘Don’t lose hope,’ he said. ‘Just do better. Every day of your life. Be a little better than you were yesterday.’
‘You make it sound so simple.’
‘Because it is.’
She stared at her feet.
‘Simple,’ he said. ‘Not easy. They’re two different things.’
She gave a slight nod.
‘Can’t change what I did,’ she muttered. ‘All I can be is sorry that I did it.’
King led her to the window, and Slater stepped aside to let them see out. The three of them watched the NYPD officers handling their fallen comrades, maintaining brave faces until they could grieve in private. Letty began to shiver, jackhammering in the morning chill as she realised what her actions had led to.
She said, ‘If I didn’t do it, he would have got someone else to. I…’
‘Everyone makes that excuse,’ King said. ‘Do me a favour and leave it at that. No one sympathises with it. No one cares. You want my best advice? Accept what you did head-on.’
She nodded, tears in her eyes. Again, she said, ‘I’m so sorry.’
‘The Department of Defense is flying power trucks in on their own planes,’ he said. ‘The Federal Emergency Management Agency already has thousands and thousands of people mobilised throughout the city, helping where they can. It wouldn’t have been enough, but it was the best we could do.’
She said, ‘Why are you telling me this?’
‘Because that’s most people,’ he said. ‘I know you were filled with hate, and it probably won’t go away with the snap of your fingers. But I want you to see this. I want you to know that most people are good.’
She went deathly quiet.
He said, ‘There’s always going to be people who try to convince you otherwise. Don’t listen to them. They only care about themselves.’
With an audible, all-encompassing whump, the naked bulb above their heads came to life.
Slater stared up at it.
Smiled.
Then looked out over a city with power restored, thousands of windows glowing softly under the dawn sky.
King blew out a breath.
So did Slater.
Together, they led Letty downstairs.
The weight of the world lifted off their shoulders.
81
One week later…
Slater couldn’t help himself.
He was as nervous as he could ever remember being outside of work. He didn’t think that was possible after the stakes of last weekend, but normality had returned to his life faster than he imagined. Sure, there were still the long, hard days of painstaking preparation for the next job, but after a specialist’s assessment he’d been given a strict three-week no-contact order. That meant no sparring, no intense exercise, nothing that could aggravate his vulnerable brain as it recuperated from the serious concussion he’d suffered seven days previously. The headaches were gone, as was the disorientation, but given his history he knew following the doctor’s orders was prudent.
Hence the ordinary daily routine.
And the nerves of a first date.
He stood on the sidewalk in Koreatown, outside the same speakeasy his night had begun at last weekend. From there, to Palantir, to all-out war. It was a timeline he would never forget for as long as he lived.
He’d never been the superstitious type, so he’d leapt at the chance to return.
Now, someone tapped him on the shoulder.
He wheeled around.
Alexis had dressed in a leather jacket over a figure-hugging skirt. She’d applied a touch of red lipstick, and wore her black hair in bangs that fell gently over her forehead. It was a stunning look. He found himself momentarily taken aback, lost for words. The last time he’d seen her, they’d both looked a little worse for wear.
She noticed, too.
‘Damn,’ she said. ‘You look good when you’re not covered in blood.’
He smiled, and stepped in for a short hug.
When he pulled away, he said, ‘That was a rough night.’
‘For both
