The Viper Has Fangs

“Well, looks like our information was good,” Kit Dunaho said, peering through her view finder at the Counter Propaganda building across the street. She handed the view finder to Justin Simmons, sitting next to her, and he took a moment to study their target. Guards posted at regular intervals, the “The Viper Will Poison Us All” poster that was said to delineate the emergency exit. Everything looked like the briefing had led them to expect.

“So we’re a go then,” Justin said, handing the view finder back. He let his hand wander to the seam of his pants where the data card was sewn into the lining.

“Yep.” Kit stood, dusting off the seat of her pants and started for the other side of the roof top. “I’ll give you a five minute head start and set off the charges. You wait for another four minutes while they initiate their low threat protocols and then sneak in the emergency entrance.”

“And then I slice into the mainframes and the Black Death does the rest.”

Kit wrinkled her nose. “I thought we agreed you were going to call it something else.”

“It’s a computer virus,” he countered, “best one I’ve ever made, I don’t know what else you want me to call it.”

She shrugged, fiddling with the straps of her backpack.

She’d been uneasy about this venture since they’d started the planning. “Hey,” he said softly, stepping closer. “This is a good plan. Counter Propaganda is at their most vulnerable while they’re in this temporary building, once they move to the permanent headquarters up town we’ll never have another shot like this. I can do this.”

“I know you can,” she said. “I know, this is the best chance we’re ever going to get, and at the very least we’ll cripple Counter Propaganda’s entire eastern division. It’s a solid strategy.”

“But?” he asked.

She forced out a breath and for just a second he thought he saw tears glinting in her eyes. “But I love you, stupid,” she said. “It’s a good plan, but we all know the exit strategy isn’t a sure thing. I know this is the best step for the resistance, and I know you’re the best man for the job. But that doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

“Exit strategy is never a sure thing,” he said. Kit’s distraction would set off the low threat protocol, a basic shelter in place until the outside threat was investigated. However, once Justin started digging around in the CP’s computers it would trigger a different alarm. Unless he worked faster than he’d ever hacked before, he’d be trapped inside when they started looking for him. But it wasn’t like they’d never gotten out of impossible situations before.

Kit reached into her pocket and pulled out a little golden locket in the shape of a heart. She took hold of his hand and pressed the locket into his palm, the metal still warm from the heat of her body. “Just in case you…” Then she seemed to shake herself. “Bring this back to me.”

He nodded, looping the chain around his wrist until it held tight. “Yes ma’am.”

“We better get a move on before they do a perimeter sweep.”

He took hold of her arms, stopping her. The wind whipped her hair in front of her face and he reached up to tuck the unruly stands behind her ear. His fingers brushed the scar behind her ear from where she had dug the tracking device out of her own skull when she’d escaped her home sector. He leaned down and for just a moment they shared a quick but fervent kiss. Kit always said they never knew what kiss might be their last, so they had to make every one worthy of the title. Before either of them were ready they separated, and with one last nod of encouragement they went about their tasks.

. . .

Justin’s fingers flew across the key board, shaking with adrenaline. The red alert had sounded as soon as he’d plugged his virus in, lights flashing around him, alarms blaring. He swore under his breath. No matter how sophisticated he designed his programing, the government always seemed to be one step ahead. In an official Counter Propaganda building every room would go into lock down if there was a suspected security breach but luckily this was a temporary building. He only needed a few minutes to guide the Black Death into the most relevant systems. A few minutes was all he would have, according to the briefing it would take less than two minutes for CP security forces to mobilize. Kit’s distraction would have bought him a little extra time, but there was no way to know how much.

A few final key strokes and he snatched his data card out of the terminal. He turned to leave and froze at the sound of booted feet thumping down the hall. His heart dropped. He’d known there was a good chance he wouldn’t make it out of the building, but he now realized he hadn’t really expected to be caught. He set his jaw, fingering the locket chain around his wrist. Well, it was bound to happen eventually.

. . .

Justin was dragged into a spars room and cuffed to a chair before a bare metal table, then left alone. He knew it wouldn’t do any good, but he flexed against the cold shackles anyway, waiting for whatever came next. His breath caught when a middle aged man in a plain, unadorned uniform entered the room. He’d seen the man’s face on posters and news casts hundreds of time, it was a face everyone in the Protectorate knew, but he’d never thought he would meet the man face to face. Holden Conner, the head of the Protectorate Security Division. The Eagle’s Spy Master. He’d expected to be interrogated by some local grunts, what could Holden Conner want with him?

“Hello Mr. Simmons,” Conner said, taking the empty chair across from him. “Or should I call you The Viper?”

Justin tried to hide his surprise. They thought he was The Viper? That answered why Conner was here. The thing was, he wasn’t The Viper. Kit was. Well, all the better if they didn’t know that. Who was he to correct the head of Protectorate Security?

. . .

One of the guards whacked Justin across the face, stunning him. The guard let him fall to the floor and while they waited for him to recover Justin heard one of them humming “The Eagle and The Viper” under his breath. The Eagle snatched the viper but forgot it had fangs. His companion kicked him and the guard instantly stopped. Justin smiled in spite of himself, the guard could probably be shot for humming the resistance anthem. It had been designed to be catchy, you couldn’t help but get it stuck in your head. For that reason, most of the resistance actually hated it too, but that was a closely guarded secret.

All three of them stiffened when Conner entered the room. “Leave us,” he snapped at the guards. Conner waited silently while the other men scrambled out, leaning against the table at the other end of the room. “I must say Mr. Simmons, you have proven to be a difficult one to break. However, I find the key is knowing the right place to apply pressure.”

Justin didn’t respond. They’d applied pressure to just about every part of his body in the last few weeks, what was left?

“Do you recognize this?”

Justin finally turned his gaze to Conner directly and stopped. In his hand dangled a heart shaped locket. Justin swallowed hard; Kit’s locket. They’d taken it from him the day he’d been captured and he’d thought it was gone for good. He’d been cursing himself for letting them get it off of him so easily. “Pretty little thing,” Conner continued. “Did your lover give you this? A token for her brave resistance fighter? She must be very disappointed in you for being brought here. What if instead I took a turn at this, instead of you?” Conner began running his fingers over the implements spread across the table.

“No don’t,” Justin begged, struggling to push himself up on his elbows. “Please. Please don’t. Not that.”

Connor smiled at him, a soulless grin that didn’t meet his eyes. A baring of his teeth. “Well, if it means so much to you.” He let the locket chain slide through his fingers and it clattered onto the desk with finality. Connor raised one of the hammers from his tool kit, letting it hover over the locket, a feral glint in his eyes.

“No, please,” Justin breathed, his voice a barely audible rasp. He couldn’t tear his gaze away from the locket, his pulse thundering through him as Connor drew the moment out for what felt like an eternity. Was he really going to smash it?

The hammer fell, crashing down on the golden heart, breaking it into a half dozen pieces. Justin’s blood surged and he dropped his head back to the floor, hiding his face. He’d done it. Conner had really broken it.

“Oops.” Conner leaned over the table, leering at him.

Justin shuddered, his ragged breathing slowly turning into a laugh. Then he couldn’t stop, the laugh wild and crazed in his own ears, almost as if it wasn’t coming from himself.

Conner’s brow furrowed in confusion as he studied Justin more closely.

“Sorry, I was just thinking about how worried the devil must be down in hell,” Justin said, getting a hold of himself. “Because he’s about to have to compete with you.”

Conner stopped, a taunt frozen on his lips. He went back to the desk and more closely studied the locket, finding the shards of the tiny glass vial that had been hidden inside. His turned back to Justin eyes widening.

Justin nodded, grinning up at Conner through his broken teeth and blood, feeling the effects of the newly released poison already muddling his brain and tightening his airway.

Conner started, lunging for the emergency switch on the wall behind him, stumbling as he went. But it was too late. By the time anyone could get through the security doors the poison would have done its work.

The Eagle snatched the viper, but forgot it had fangs.

Justin felt the thump through the floor as Conner fell, heard his wheezing breaths.

But I love you, stupid.

Conner gasped out a stridorous scream, kicking against the floor, clawing at this throat.

Bring this back to me.

Justin tried to suck in a breath, feeling like he was breathing through a straw. Distantly he heard the clanking of the security door locks. Conner had gone still, his lips blue and speckled with a bloody foam.

Eagle snatched the viper, forgot it had fangs.

Justin coughed, tasting his own blood. Conner had never instated a clear successor, confident he had years left in his position. Someone else would take over Protectorate Security eventually, but there would be months of infighting and scheming beforehand. And Kit would wreak havoc on them the whole time, taking advantage of every moment of it. The Viper would bury them in brass and blood.

He thought of the scar behind her ear, the wind whipping her hair into her face as they stood on the rooftop, the kiss that had really been their last. His chest spasmed, but the next breath wouldn’t come.

But I love you, stupid.