“And this is a bad thing?” Quinn asks.
“No, no, it’s a good thing, very good, but I was curious as to how it happened.” He rests his arms casually on the table. It’s an attempt to appear non-threatening. Atticus taught her the tactic. The sheer number of guns backing him up takes away any comfort. “So I asked around and I kept hearing the same thing. Two or three people running around town, in colorful, creative outfits doing what the police can’t.” He shrugs. “Or won’t. See, I like this kind of initiative. Not waiting around for the government to do it for you. I’m about progress. Building toward the future, and I get the feeling you are too.”
“I don’t think you understand anything about us,” Astrid replies, holding her temper in check.
Kincade smiles. “No? You and I have more in common than you realize.”
Owen snorts. Quinn looks like he may electrocute everyone in the room, but Astrid holds his gaze. “How so?”
The chair legs scrape against the cement floor. He stands and walks around the table, revealing his height. He’s intimidatingly tall. His associate stays put. Leaning against the table he says, “We both want this community to be a better, safer place. We want the streets quiet, no drugs and no crime. You’ve already made my job easier by eliminating the Pixie Dust trade, but we both know that’s just the tip of the iceberg, and if some people in this city have their way, the less toxic element will continue to grow.”
Astrid narrows her eyes. “We do want this community to be safe—for everyone. Not just the rich and wealthy.”
“It doesn’t work like that, Echo.” He tilts his head, amused that he surprises her by using her name. “You can’t have it both ways. Did you know the WIND-E Corporation owns all of the buildings that burned down? Did you know they own this warehouse?”
None of them answer although, yes, they are aware.
“WIND-E won’t sell me the properties, even though they’re useless to them now. They’re under investigation for code violations. If they find them liable, then the city will take over ownership of the property and sell them off. This building? They want to turn it into a homeless shelter.” He looks around. “I want to turn it into mixed-use real estate. I’m thinking a coffee shop would be great on the corner.” He points across the building. “Right over there.”
Astrid can’t follow Kincade’s train of thought other than the fact he’s a greedy bastard. “What’s the end game, Kincade? What do you want us for?”
“I need you to clean up the streets for me. Get the homeless and criminals out of the neighborhood. I need the mayor to sign off on me buying those burned-out properties so I can develop them, and I need WIND-E to understand that Harbor Line is no longer the place she grew up. It’s changed, and will to continue to change.”
“And if we don’t help you?”
He shrugs. “They’ve already lost three buildings. I’d hate to see what happens next.”
Quinn barely contains his rage when he replies. “We don’t fight on the side of corporate stooges. Either side.”
Kincade pulls a sheet of paper out of his pocket and holds it out. Astrid takes it from him. Dread pools in her stomach. It’s a photograph of the Elite Gym. “What is this?”
“This property is terribly close to where the other fires happened. Prime location actually, right on the edge between the Harbor Line and the university.”
“What are you implying?” The photo shakes in her hand no matter how much she tries to control her anger.
“It just seems to me we may be in a spot to scratch one another’s backs. We’ll keep an eye on the Elite building if you keep the riff-raff to a manageable level on the Harbor Line.”
Astrid holds the man’s eyes. They’re dark and filled with arrogance and deceit. He knows who she is. Who they all are and he’s going to use that as leverage against them. “And if we don’t do what you want?”
Kincade snaps his fingers and a wicked smile lingers on his lips. “Then I think an organic market would be a fantastic addition in that spot, don’t you?”
Chapter Sixteen
Astrid
“Jensen just pulled up outside.”
She looks up at the surveillance video that picks up the parking lot and perimeter. Jensen parks near the curb in his government-issue, basic sedan. She scans the other screens and locates Quinn training a client in the gym.
“Thanks, Casper,” she says, then looks over at Owen. “I’m heading up to the main office. You stay down here.”
He lifts his hands and disappears, vanishing behind a protective shield. She shakes her head. “Nope. Let me have a minute alone with him.” She looks at Casper’s avatar. “You too.”
“Hiding something?” Casper asks.
“He’s family. I just need a minute alone, okay?”
She leaves them in the Lair and slides into her seat behind the desk just a few seconds before he knocks on the door.
“Hey girl,” he says, entering the office after a quick knock. She smiles when she sees him. He is family. But there are secrets between them now and she’s not sure where they stand. Even so, he doesn’t hesitate to give her a hug across the desk.
“Hey, didn’t know you were coming by today.”
He releases her and sits in the chair opposite of the desk. “I had a few minutes and wanted to check in on the next group of recruits.”
She locates the file with her list of candidates. “We should start next week. I’ve got eight candidates. Three women and five men. Four are former military. One cop, and then two culled from MMA programs around the country.”
“Sounds hopeful.” He leans back in his seat and crosses one leg over the other. Jensen studies her. She knows why—it’s unspoken, and finally she just acknowledges it.
“Are you concerned about me doing this without Atticus?”
“Are you concerned?” he asks back. “I know you’ve got a lot on your plate.”
“He and I built the training program together.” What Jensen doesn’t know is Astrid really ran the project. Atticus was busy with other things—like building super suits and locating missing Project 12 survivors. “I’m confident I can manage. I’ve taken Quinn on to handle the gym management. Mick is still out there too—he’s good with the staff and clients.”
“Hire anyone else?”
She pauses, getting a feel for that question, or rather the intent behind it. She scans his pulse. His breathing. The dilation of his pupils. All are steady. “No, no other new hires. I’m keeping it tight around here, like always.”
He nods. “Good. The program is doing well. I’ve assigned missions to all of the candidates that just graduated. You’d be proud.”
She tilts her head. “Even Rowe?”
“He’s a son of a bitch, isn’t he?” Jensen laughs.
“That’s the nice way to put it.”
“I’ve assigned him a specific case. We’ll see how he does.”
Astrid knows that case involves Owen. What she wants to know is does it involve her. For the first time she wants to dig into Jensen’s head—hear his echo to find the truth. Her fingers tingle under her gloves. But she’s also afraid.
“I do have a question,” she says. “What do you know about the Metamorphosis Group?”
“The real estate company?”
“Yep, that’s the one.”
“Not much. Mayor Steed likes them—keeps giving them tax exemptions to develop the Harbor Line.” He frowns. “Has he approached you about the gym?”
That’s a nice way to put it. “Kind of.”
“He’s doing good things for the city, but it’s also causing tension among the new and old residents. Standard side effect of progress.”
It’s an interesting way to put it. Progress. Does he not know about the fires and the battle over the property? Maybe not. Maybe he’s hiding something. There’s one simple way for her to find out. Under the desk, she tugs the gloves off her fingers.
“I’m not sure I like his tactics for getting property, is all,” she says. “He was a little pushy.”
“I don’t like the sound of that. Did he threaten you?”