Page 38 of Jump or Fall
Hugging Gordon had been a risk. But she’d needed it—needed that moment of closeness. He’d felt so solid, safe. She hadn’t thought it was possible to feel that way around a man again.
He hadn’t pulled away, so maybe he’d wanted it too. Or maybe, like that time she caught his hand by mistake, he was just being polite.
Mara turned the gauntlet over, careful not to push any buttons or touch the dark interface. A clear casing clicked in and out of place, designed to prevent accidental activation while wearing them. Gordonhad also installed micro lithpacks so they could function independently from the rest of the suit.
How much destruction could they cause?
Images of fiery explosions and charred skin crept into her mind with Dawson at the center of it all.
That was a sweet vision.
Her attention drifted to the rest of her suit sprawled across the couch. It was a standard enforcer model—matte gray ceramic plating and a black Araflex underlayer. The Araflex wasn’t as bulletproof as the plates, but it could stop a blade or shrapnel.
The lithpack was housed on the left hip. Older models had it placed on the back of the chestplate, but a well-placed shot from behind could ignite it. The hip was a harder target.
The plain helmet, with its black glass visor, obscured the wearer’s identity. To the public, an enforcer was only identifiable by the nickname on their chest. It was usually a variation of their real name, but not always. And sometimes, the nickname changed—a clever way to keep people suspicious and compliant. Only the other enforcers knew their real identities through the heads-up display.
She tossed the helmet aside and went to her bedroom. From the back of the closet, she pulled out a box, releasing a puff of stale dust.
Her nose tickled, so she held her breath. Sometimes that worked to suppress it.
No sneeze. Good.
She pried off the lid and carefully sifted through the clothes to reveal her one treasure: a God’s Eye.
The dark gray helmet, marked with a gold triquetra, was one of her few prized possessions. She had purchased it from Hyperion a year earlier. Maybe Dawson knew about it, maybe he didn’t, but she liked to think she had something that was hers.
When powered on, it illuminated a deep red glow that could be dimmed for stealth. The “eye” was a sphere embedded in the forehead,equipped with sensors to detect visual and auditory input from multiple directions. She had designed it in anticipation of the synth-mind technology—an “eye of God” that could predict an opponent’s next move and display the most likely outcome.
She kissed the top of the helmet and rested it gently on her bed. Obviously, it wasn’t delicate, but it was special.
She rifled through the box, searching for the small item she wanted to give Gordon.
In a pair of socks, she found the small brass key. She’d bought it a long time ago. It was a fascinating device, used in old locks that relied on pins inside a cylinder. Gordon was always unlocking things, so maybe he would think it was an interesting thing to have.
A quick peek at her tablet revealed it was only 6:10. This day wasdetermined to move as slowly as possible.
With a frustrated sigh, she went to the front window.
Her stomach dropped.
Shit.
Max was parked outside.
“How does this asshole have nothing else to do?” she seethed.
Dawson hadn’t been this watchful in years.
A chill prickled up her arms despite the warmth of the apartment. Mara paced through the living room, gnawing at the inside of her cheek.
Why was he suddenly paying attention? She’d been so good foryears. She hadn’t stepped a fucking toe out of line.
How could he possibly know she was up to something?
Her eyes landed on the door and she stopped.
The door.
