Capital City Chronicles: The Island by S.E. Goss Page B

CAPITAL CITY
     
    Below this I wrote nothing, simply uploading the entirety of the flash drive. It would take nearly an hour, but I set it to automatically post as soon as it was finished.
    I had now gone far beyond simple assassination; this could potentially spark an uprising, a civil war. Many people were going to die, but at least now they had a chance to defy GCI before they did. I would not be alive to see it, I understood that now, but I could die knowing I had done everything I could. After years of covering for GCI, in the course of one night I had undone all of it; in a few hours I would be the most hunted human being on the planet.
    It wouldn’t last long for me, though. I had no intention of hiding, and I knew the first place they would come for me would be where I was now headed. I again leaned back into the seat and stared out at the city.
    A fat drop of rain smacked against the window and stretched a tail toward the back of the limo like a comet. Another hit the skylight, and another and soon the lights of the city blurred behind a sudden downpour.
    Somewhere out in that blurred chaos, Carter Cole was dying. I knew this as sure as I knew Whitten was dead. My vision had been correct, I knew that now.
    Pandora.
    Something I hadn’t considered, suddenly occurred to me and it seemed so obvious now, so clear that I hated myself for not thinking of it sooner. I imagined her now, standing over Cole as he choked on his last breath. The last thing he would hear would be her PDA chiming. She would look at it, and see my name with a price tag.
    And, as much as I was sure she loved me, and as much as I loved her, Pandora Demour would tap the accept icon without a second thought.
    It made perfect sense that it would be her. GCI had an untold number of mercenaries and assassins in their employ, but Pandora knew me. She could access my apartment with no effort, she knew my habits, knew my personality and could predict any move I would make. More importantly, GCI would revel in the poetry of knowing that I was killed by my own lover. It would serve as the perfect message to anyone standing against them. GCI owned us all.
    I didn’t sob. I didn’t cry out, but the tears came. Soft and silent they rolled hot down my face.
    The limo pulled onto Heart street. In a few moments, it would park in front of my building, and I would be home. I dropped the PDA onto the floor, and shoved the gun back into the clutch.
     
    * * *
     
    I stood, shivering and wet in front of the window, taking in one last look at Capital City. My mother had, so long ago, told me that I would die here if I came. She had been right, but it wasn’t in the way she predicted. I smiled. If she were still alive, she would hear my name and curse it along with the rest of the country. But there would be a few, a minority, who would remember me as a hero. It wouldn’t be anyone I knew, but they were out there, waiting for the spark. I looked away from the rain drenched city, at the clock next to my bed. In another 5 minutes the Underground would know, and that spark would catch, engulfing the city. I turned away from the window.
    In the living room, I sat in Pan’s chair. I opened the clutch, and pulled out the pistol. Pandora had by now been offered the contract for me. I started to lean back, but saw something on the ottoman. Leaning forward I picked it up. Feeling the cool handle of Pan’s hairbrush against my palm, a profound sadness sank over me. I did not cry like before, but the despair of never again smelling her hair falling over my face was overwhelming. I ran my thumb again through the bristles and inhaled. I laid back in the chair, pressing the brush against my cheek.
    With the pistol in my lap, Pan’s hairbrush against my damp face, I sat in her chair, in her dress and stared at the door. I didn’t stand a chance against her, and I doubted I would even pick up the gun when she came through the door.
    I just hoped I lasted long enough to see her