Truth Behind the Mask Page 2

  Pagan parked the van and took a small detour through the back door of the building where she spotted her older sister making a pot of coffee in the small office kitchen.

  “Pagan!” Melina Osborne’s cheerful voice greeted her. “Everything go okay?” She set cups on a tray, along with a jug of milk and sugar. Then she arranged a small plate of cookies.

  Pagan smiled at Melina’s finishing touch. “Ammassari’s lot is a huge place to cover, Mel. We should get a good few days’ work out of it.”

  “That should keep Rogue happy.” She handed Pagan the plate of cookies and then poured her a glass of milk. “I think you need these cookies more. Go eat. You skipped breakfast again. Rogue is out in the shop meeting with a new client. I thought I’d win them over with some old-fashioned hospitality.”

  Pagan accepted the plate gratefully and opened the door to let Melina pass by. Pagan was struck by just how different she and her sister Melina were, for all their shared genes. They had the same jet-black hair and dark blue eyes. Melina, however, was quintessentially feminine while Pagan had heard herself described as handsomely androgynous. She peeked through a small window into the shop where she was able to spot Rogue Ronchetti walking around with the new customer, showing him what was available and what she recommended for their security. Rogue was attired in jeans and a white shirt, her hair already slicked down in a vain attempt to tame its natural curl. Pagan looked upon Melina’s lover as someone who was as much a parent to her as her blood sibling was. Rogue and Melina had brought Pagan up when the sisters’ parents had been killed. She watched as Rogue demonstrated a particular product in her no-nonsense manner. Pagan grinned as she watched her. It was no secret she worshipped Rogue. She was a quiet woman, solid as oak, butch to a fault, with a wicked dry humor that very few were privileged to witness.

  Melina was her perfect foil. She stood nearly as tall as Rogue’s intimidating six foot two, but had hair that curled almost to her waist. She was vocal, temperamental, passionate, and loud. Rogue was all calmness, possessing an almost zenlike quality, but was passionate when her temper got riled.

  Pagan thought Rogue and Melina made a striking couple, and she loved them for taking on the parenting roles they had been forced into so young. As role models went, they could not have been a more loving couple whose ideals spread far beyond their lives together or the security business.

  Juggling her milk and plate of cookies, Pagan climbed the stairs that took her to the living quarters above the office building. She went through the living room and down a corridor to climb more stairs that led to her bedroom. She wandered over to a poster of a film heroine bedecked in shiny leather and dark glasses and ran her hand over the print. She pressed a small hidden button, and the wall before her revealed a door cleverly hidden by the line of wallpaper covering it. Pagan opened it and stepped into a secret set of rooms, accessible only by a spiral staircase that ran inside the lighthouse tower. The lighthouse held a hidden lair that was known to a select few and used only by Pagan and her family. Pagan sprinted up the staircase and checked the screens off one of the landings. She reached for a keyboard and entered in her codes. The screen sprang to life, and she was greeted by a familiar face.

  “Hi, Uncle Frank.” Pagan began reading the messages that ran along the bottom of the screen.

  “Hey, Pagan, you’re on the screens early.”

  “I had a new job to price. I just wanted to see if there was anything you’ve heard happening in the city. It’s got our local car dealer shaken up so much so that he’s having his entire lot and home alarmed. He seems frightened rather than merely security conscious. It just struck me as odd.”

  “I’ll run it by our man in the police force. They might already have a lead on what’s going on around there. I heard they’ve been busy with some thefts. They think it’s kids because it’s primarily money being taken and the burglaries are sloppy, a lot of mess and little regard for alarms. As for the car lot, have you seen the prices that guy sells his vehicles for? Might just be a disgruntled buyer wanting payback and terrorizing him. But otherwise it’s quiet so far. Chastilian is just gearing up for the day. But, as you know, when night falls it can all change in the blink of an eye.” Uncle Frank winked at her and shooed her away from the screen. “Go do your other job. You have people to protect out there. Be sure to give my best to Rogue.”

  Pagan turned the screen off to end their conversation. She swiveled around in her seat to look at her black leather suit hanging from its pegs. Pagan ran a finger across the collar.

  “And welcome to the other family business,” she muttered before padding back down the tower’s steps to reenter her bedroom. She closed the connecting door between the rooms, hiding away her other identity and life.

  Chapter Two

  Pagan pulled on her pants and felt the snug black leather mold to her body like another skin. She tucked in her T-shirt and fastened the zipper. Sitting on a small bench, she reached for her boots. The thick soles were heavily ridged, the steel toes encased in tough leather, and the boots reached to mid calf. Pagan laced up the boots and made sure they were comfortable. Lastly, she donned her thick leather jacket. Lined with Kevlar to act as body armor, the jackets were the Sentinels’ main protection against those who meant them harm. The lean lines of the jacket fitted firmly to Pagan’s broad shoulders and fastened with a hidden zip.

  Pagan fastened the last catch on her jacket collar and reached for her mask. She slid the molded material up to cover her eyes and protect her nose. She grinned. Out of all the clothing she put on to pursue what she did, the mask was the one thing that made her laugh. “If you don’t wear a mask, people will know who you are, and none of your family will ever be safe. Family is the most important thing. You have to keep it protected at all times and at all costs.” Pagan could still hear Rogue’s voice from years ago explaining why the mask was a necessary tool. She adjusted the settings to keep the mask in place.

  The mask also housed a tiny microphone and a sophisticated camera lens, both used by the Sighted to keep contact with the Sentinels. While the Sentinels were the ones who watched over the city, they in turn were watched over by the Sighted. The Sighted were the unseen force that the Sentinels employed. But for all the technology the Sighted had at their fingertips, a Sentinel had to rely on her strength alone in a fight.

  Pagan gathered up her utility belt and fastened it about her waist. She ran through each pocket and over every clasp to make sure everything was in its place. A dual flashlight, small but with a powerful two-headed beam, dangled from an iron clip. An army knife with a myriad of attachments was nestled in a pocket. There were plastic bindings for tying up hands and feet. In another pocket were a pair of night vision binoculars, another housed a cell phone, and then a small first aid kit. A breathing mask and a small Taser finished the equipment list. Pagan attached her collapsible escrima sticks in place by her side, then slipped on her gloves and walked across the room to where Rogue was sauntering around the lighthouse, her own mask dangling from her fingertips.

  “Any chaos out there tonight?” She cocked a head toward the police scanner that was announcing what activity was keeping the local law enforcement busy that evening.

  “Nothing yet, but the night hasn’t started. Give it time. Chastilian never seems to disappoint.”

  “Keeps us busy, that’s for sure.”

  Rogue fastened her mask in a brisk, no-nonsense manner.

  Melina entered the lighthouse and made straight for her seat in front of the mass of computers and screens. She entered a password and the screens flickered to life. Uncle Frank appeared onscreen.

  “Good evening, Melina.”

  “Hi, Uncle Frank. Do your boys have their territory covered?” Her fingers flashed over the keyboard.

  “Affirmative,” he said as he looked at a screen on his left. “Casper and Earl are out there on their watch. Nothing has been reported as of yet. We may have the beginnings of a quiet night ahead.”

&nbs
p; Melina grinned. “You do that just to stir up the elements and jinx us all.” She continued tapping at her keyboard, bringing her systems up. “Uncle, we are online and active.” Two screens showed the inside of the lighthouse, courtesy of the small cameras secreted away in Pagan’s and Rogue’s masks. Melina turned up the volume on the police scanner, and the soft chatter buzzed through the lighthouse.

  “Good hunting, Rogue, Pagan.” Frank’s image cleared from the screen to be replaced by a spinning graphic. Pagan smiled as she watched the animated lighthouse shed its light over an animated night sea.

  Rogue leaned over Melina’s shoulder and read the information that had begun scrolling on a screen.

  “We’ll head out into the city. Maybe tonight we can just sit back and watch the police arrest those burglars that have everyone so antsy.” Melina looked up at her, and Rogue placed a kiss on her waiting lips. “Keep an eye on us.”

  “Always.” Melina put her hand to Rogue’s cheek and received a kiss pressed in her palm.

  Rogue smiled the smile she reserved for Melina alone. She cocked her head at Pagan. “Come on, kid, time to scope out the city.”

  Pagan waved to her sister as if she were just heading out for a stroll.

  “Do as Rogue tells you!” Melina said as if instructing a child, knowing all too well that it would get a rise out of her.

  Pagan made a face at the comment.

  With her attention still fixed on the computer screens, Melina continued, “And don’t you roll those baby blues at me.”

  Pagan sighed at the admonishment. “It’s true. You do have eyes in the back of your head.”

  “She sees all,” Rogue said, adjusting her mask over her eyes.

  “She’s wasted at the keyboards.”

  “You got the muscular physique, Pagan, whereas I got all the super brain power,” Melina said with a superior air.

  Pagan snorted. Rogue swatted at the back of her head. “Which is why she chose me as her love.”

  Pagan shook her head at them both. “I need my own sidekick, someone I can bully you two back with.”

  “That would have to be some sidekick,” Melina said from her station.

  Rogue pulled Pagan into the elevator after her, effectively cutting off the siblings’ war of words. Pagan’s startled “Hey!” was muffled as the doors slid shut. Her stomach shifted as the elevator powered down from the lighthouse to open up into an underground garage. All manner of vehicle were housed there. Pagan’s gaze lingered on her treasured motorbike. Rogue’s twin was beside it, then a large black van used strictly for Sentinel work, and then Melina’s small car.

  “Let’s stretch our legs tonight. We might see more from above than on the streets themselves.” Rogue keyed the combination that opened up a small door in the garage and let them into the dark alley behind the Security offices. As soon as they were in view of a tower, they both removed a wire gun from their belts and aimed for the building above their heads. Pagan’s gun, shaped like a fat pistol, shot out a long stream of a high-tensile wire that was tipped with a finely pointed dart. Whenever the dart struck its target, whether concrete or steel, it would open to reveal a set of barbs that secured the line. With a swift movement, Rogue was suddenly whisked upward. Pagan felt the bite of the wire being attached, then fitted her own gun to her belt clasp and released the button to race up the building as well. She marveled at the ability to ride the wire and traverse the city from rooftop to rooftop. At the top she scrambled over the ledge of the building and unfastened her gun, the wire shot back in its casing with barely a sound.

  “Ammassari seemed more than a little spooked for someone who just wanted to update his alarm system,” Pagan said, leaning against the lip of the building and looking down at the city below.

  “Then we’ll make sure he can rest easy knowing that he is protected by the best alarm system we can offer.” Rogue’s grin was bright in contrast to the darkness of her mask. She stood on a higher part of the roof. “You did a good job with all the details you brought back today.”

  “The woman at the lot made a comment about my accent.”

  “I’m guessing you didn’t explain it?”

  “I don’t announce it to everyone when we first meet. I don’t want to be seen as some freak of nature.”

  “You are no freak.” Rogue leaned down and dragged Pagan up beside her. “Don’t ever let me hear you use that word again to describe yourself. We’ve had this conversation way too many times before, and you are never going to win.”

  “She said she liked how low my voice was.” Pagan tried to appease Rogue’s ire.

  Rogue took a deep breath and seemed to relax. “Did you tell her that’s what attracts all the girls?”

  “I don’t attract girls, Rogue,” Pagan said with a soft snort of derision.

  “You do, but the right one hasn’t come along yet to attract you back.”

  Pagan considered this. “So when the right one comes along, I tell her what? I’m a security specialist by day, and at night I watch over the city from its rooftops, seeking out the bad guys?”

  “When the right one comes along, you tell her as much or as little as you can trust her with.”

  Pagan leaned against the railing that ran along the edge of one of Chastilian’s highest apartment buildings. “Who’s going to believe there’s such a thing as a deaf vigilante?” She reached up a hand to touch where one of her hearing aids was attached inside her ear. The mechanical brilliance that was housed in the tiny casing gave her the unique ability to hear despite her hearing loss. Each lay hidden behind the hair that fell over her ears in a concealing cut. Her ears were in turn covered by the fashioning of her mask to protect both her aids and her identity.

  “Who would believe? The one who will recognize you as more than just what your life entails. And the one who will love you no matter what.”

  “Do you think she’s out there?” Pagan cast her eyes over the bright lights of the city.

  “It’s a big place, kid. I think she just might well be.”

  *

  From her vantage point high above the city, Pagan could look down at the city streets where her parents had met their fate. She had been rendered deaf as a result of the horrific catastrophe that had befallen her family. In the madness that swirled below, Pagan remembered all too well what had changed her destiny.

  Pagan had been four years old when her family was driving home from a rare night out at a competitor’s restaurant. Melina, then a studious eighteen-year-old, had left her studying behind to join them on their trip. Alexis and Camillin Osborne had been laughing about something in the front of the car, making Pagan laugh with them as she watched the city lights sparkle in the dark. The first sign that there was trouble was when her father cried out as someone jumped into the road in front of them, and he had to swerve hard to avoid hitting him. The car banged up the pavement and skidded to a halt, shaking up everyone inside and knocking Pagan to the floor of the car. Then the car doors were wrenched open.

  “Mr. Phoenix says you should keep your nose out of his business,” a deep male voice grunted, and Alexis was ripped from the car.

  Another male dragged a screaming Camillin from her seat.

  Thick hands grabbed at Pagan, but Melina snatched her up and clutched her to her chest.

  “Gimme the brat!” The man tried to pull Pagan out of Melina’s grip. Melina was manhandled out of the car by another man.

  Pagan managed to take in the confusing scene before her. Her father was fighting with a young man dressed all in black. In the darkness it was hard to see who her father was trying to fight off. She was surprised at how well her father could fight. He was landing as many punches as he received. Her mother was not faring so well in trying to go to her husband’s aid. Pagan squirmed in Melina’s arms to go help her. Melina was pinned around her shoulders by a man twice her size and girth, and no amount of kicking was freeing her older sister from the man’s grip.

  “Keep that up, girlie,
and I’ll have to hurt the kid.”

  Melina subsided and clutched Pagan closer, whispering for her to keep quiet.

  Pagan watched as another man arrived and joined the other to beat her father down. The whole time she could hear a man’s voice screaming at the men to hit harder, not to let him up, and to shut the damn woman up. When they couldn’t stop her from screaming for help, the man silenced her himself. Pagan could feel Melina’s chest hitching with silent sobs. Her mother stopped screaming, and Melina let loose a tortured wail. Pagan began to cry at her sister’s torment, not quite understanding what was happening. All Pagan knew was that her mommy had stopped moving and her daddy was on the ground being held down by two men while a third began furiously beating him.

  Melina began yelling and tried to get away, but the man who held her punched her and knocked her down. He ambled off with a cocky lilt to his step to go join the much larger fight. Pagan was stuck under Melina’s dead weight. She squirmed and twisted to break free of Melina’s confining arms. She crawled out from under her sister and was finally able to see what the men were doing. Her mother had been placed back in the passenger seat of the car, her head lolling against the headrest at a very strange angle. Pagan began to wander in the direction of the vehicle as her father was dragged into his seat and left there, head placed against the steering wheel with a solid bang that set off the horn. She watched as the five men were told to spill liquid all over the car. The man who had been issuing the orders stepped forward. He lit a match, watched it flame for a moment, and then flicked it on the car’s hood. The car burst into flame. The other men all started to edge away. The man with the matches then tossed a shiny piece of metal into the carnage.

  “Here’s your tip, Osborne.” He watched the flames for a moment, then waved to his men and they started to leave.

  The metal piece twirled in the air, then fell to the ground, still spinning. The men’s retreating footsteps as they ran away sounded muted over the roar of the flames engulfing the car.