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The man had a scanning device in his hand. "Okay. Shawn Bradley, aka Slim Muffuga, and Drake Johnson, aka Dizzee Shizzles, both scratched off the list. Leaves seven still unaccounted for."

The woman gazed at the corpses. "We're getting a lot more bang for the buck, Big Top. If we gotta snuff six goons to get two every time it's gonna be a long night."

Big Top shrugged. "Not a prob, Rosy. Their boys shouldn't have put up a fight if they didn't want to paint the town red. That's on them, not us. You know how these fools are."

He put a hand over his helmet's receiver. "Hang on. We got company."

Ronnie hissed, ducking back into the shadows. Big Top's voice followed her.

"No point hiding, Agent Banks. Headshot has eyes on you from above."

She cursed inwardly, stepping forward. Hands raised, showing no weapon. "Who are you people?"

"Nice to see you made it out in one piece, Agent Banks. But once again, you're interfering in a legally sanctioned mission. Time to be a good girl and walk away. You're not on my hit list tonight, but don’t take that to mean you can't be penciled in."

"All I want to do is make sure the wrong people don’t get killed."

"You don't have say. I don't either."

Her eyes narrowed. "Just following orders, that it?"

"Yep. Just like you. You're an officer of the law. You know the drill."

She took a step closer, trying to get a glimpse through the helmet's visor. "You sound familiar. Do I know you?"

"Not possible."

"Take off the helmet."

Rosy pointed her weapon at Ronnie. "This cop is wasting our time, Big Top. Say the word, and she's out the picture."

"No need to be crude, Red. Agent Banks doesn't mean us any harm." He tapped the base of his helmet, opening the mirror-coated visor. "Do you, Agent?"

Ronnie could only stare, eyes wide and mouth open. The man's face was instantly recognizable. But that's impossible.

"Jett?"

Vigil couldn't believe his eyes.

Mira was cornered, back pressed against the dead end of one of the maze-like alleys that crisscrossed the city. Frightened but angry, like when he first saw her. But that wasn't what gave him pause.

It was the two familiar figures that approached her.

One was overweight, his girth barely contained by the awkward body armor strapped to his body. Dreadlocks hung from his helmet, and his mouth sparkled with diamonds every time he opened it. The other man was tall with a chiseled face. Vigil knew the hair underneath the helmet would be cut into a bristly crew cut.

Bozo and Jax. For a minute he wavered, awash in memories of the team he watched die so long ago. His friends. Dead. His friends. Alive. In front of him. How can that be? They should be dead. He should be dead. If he survived, then…

No. It can't be them.

Something glimmered in Jax's hand. Ontario combat knife, his pride and joy. He made quick work of his targets up close, swift and brutal, no flash or finesse. And he was nearly within reach of Mira.

Vigil dropped a strobe and leaped down.

The disorienting flickers of brilliant light stunned the two men. Protected by his visor, Vigil landed on top of Jax, crushing him into the frost-covered asphalt. A g-span blast knocked Bozo backward into the alley wall. Vigil followed with a charged shot to Bozo's jaw, knocking the diamond-coated grill out of his mouth. Bozo sagged and slumped to the ground.

Vigil turned, kicking Jax in the chest as he rose and went for his sidearm. Vigil followed with a brutal uppercut before grabbling Jax by the harness straps and slamming him into the wall. His visor pulsed red as he activated intimidation mode.

"Who are you? Why are you imitating the Hellrazors?"

A confused look flashed across Jax's face. "What are you talking about? Who the hell are you, man? You think you know me? You don't know nothing."

Vigil seized him by the throat. "I know what you are. A disgrace to Jax's memory. The real Hellrazors never killed kids."

An electric current flashed from the g-span, shocking Jax unconscious. Vigil let him slump to the ground. He turned to Mira.

"Mira — I mean, young lady. There's a zip bike on the rooftop. Hop on it. It will get you somewhere safe."

She stepped forward, eyes wide. "You the new Vigil? That's so ace! Can I be your partner?"

"What? No. I mean — you don't know me."

"Oh, yeah… secret identity." She smirked. "Gotcha. Word of advice? You gotta change the way you move, yo."

"How I move?"

"Yeah. You stand the same. Walk the same. Evil eyes got gait recognition. Just a heads-up."

Vigil pointed. "Rooftop."

"Yeah, yeah. Chill with the bitch switch." She nimbly leaped on top of a trash bin and jumped onto the fire escape. Halfway up, she paused.

"Thanks, yo. For coming after me."

"I don't know you, little girl. Now get out of here."

She grinned, scrunching up her face in an exaggerated wink before clambering to the roof and disappearing. A few seconds later he heard the zip bike's fusion thrusters activate as it lifted off.

He turned to the bodies on the ground, scanning them with lasers from his g-spans. "Proto, give me a full body and DNA readout. Please tell me these guys aren't real."

Proto's voice buzzed in his ear. "I'm a digital assistant, not a philosopher, Vigil. Defining reality is a concept beyond my parameters."

"But sarcasm apparently isn't. You know what I mean, Proto."

"Initial readouts indicate synthetic humanoids, or synoids as they are called. I can't trace the manufacturer, but the work is pristine. On the level of Maximillian Industries models."

Vigil heaved a sigh of relief. "Synoids. I knew it. I knew they couldn't be real. Are they… conscious? Self-aware?"

"Synoids are created to be indecipherable from humans in appearance but can be detected by any device programmed for that purpose. Their spinal cords are filled with nanofluids that control and repair their biological functions, and their brains are much less developed than a human, programmed with inserted personalities constructed from memories."

"Memories from what source?"

"I don't have the data to supply that answer."

"Never mind. I already know." Vigil's fist clenched. "Golding. My team died in his facility. I don't know how he did it, but somehow he harnessed the memories of my squad."

"William Golding, the benefactor that supplied your stasis?"

"He's not my benefactor. I don't know what he is." Vigil shook his head. "No time for this. Call Agent Ronnie Banks."

The call went through immediately. "Who is this?"

"It's me, Ronnie. I got Mira to safety. What else do you need?"

"Jett?" Her voice sounded nearly frantic over the line.

"What's going on? Are you okay?"

"No, I'm not okay. I'm looking right at you."

Vigil froze. "What?"

Chapter 20

Agent Ronnie Banks backed away. "You're not Jett. Not the real one."

He tilted his head, looking in every way like the Jett she knew. But in his combat armor, Big Top looked more dangerous. Lethal. But his eyes… his eyes were flat. Emotionless. Dead.

"And who told you that, Agent Banks? Your partner buzzing in your ear? The more important question is: how do you know my name? Did you RCE clowns actually manage to get spies in the Haven? I want answers, Agent. I want them now."

"You want answers? So do I. Like who's giving your orders? And why are you wearing another man's face?"

"I won't ask you again, Banks. You're alone out here, and I'm running out of patience."

Her holoband pulsed. She smiled and looked up. "Actually, I'm not alone."