Page 116 of Villainous Rise

“I know, but this is⁠—”

“Important. Everything with the Alliance is important.” He sneered. “Fine.”

I blinked, surprised by his quick capitulation. “Really?”

“I’m not happy about it.” His tone made that abundantly clear. He glanced toward the containment cell where Inferno was probably contemplating his life choices. “You should go now anyway. You probably shouldn’t be around for the next part of my plan.”

I followed his gaze, and nodded.

Cipher’s mouth quirked into a surprised smile. “You’re not even going to ask what I’m planning to do with him?”

“Nope. Plausible deniability and all that. Besides, he tried to blow up a children’s hospital last month, so...” I made a vague gesture that somehow conveyed ‘do your worst’ without me having to say it out loud.

Cipher laughed. “You’re terrible at being good sometimes, you know that?”

I shrugged “I’m selective about my moral outrage.”

“Number Five, set course for the Tower,” Cipher called out, his voice carrying that edge of command that brooked no argument.

The airship banked immediately and the subtle shift in momentum made me press against Cipher’s side. He leaned down. “You’ll come back to me as soon as you’re done.”

“Yes.”

His hand slid to the nape of my neck, fingers threading through the hair at the base of my skull. The gentle pressure was at odds with the hard line of his mouth.

“And Annie? If you need anything, anything at all, you call me.”

“I will.”

I sat in one of Havoc’s office chairs, my leg bouncing with nervous energy as I watched him pace the length of his office.

I straightened my blouse with shaky hands. Cipher had an extra uniform of mine on hand in the airship and, for once, I hadn’t questioned why. I was just thankful he’d had it ready for me.

I was also thankful that Havoc hadn’t questioned why it was that I’d arrived at the Tower on Cipher’s aircraft. But I knew that conversation was coming. Probably very soon.

I jumped as soon as the call chimed.

“Ready?” Havoc asked, finger hovering over the accept button.

I gave a nod.

The screen flickered, and a stylized “W” appeared, wrapped in digital smoke. My heart rate kicked up a notch. I’d half-convinced myself Wraith was just an urban legend, but apparently he was very real.

The symbol dissolved, replaced by a darkened silhouette. No features were visible. Just the outline of a person, backlit against an equally nondescript background.

“Wraith,” Havoc said. “Thank you for agreeing to talk.”

I studied the shadow on the screen, trying to glean anything about the figure. Height, build, even the setting they were in, but they were all deliberately obscured.

“Havoc,” the distorted voice greeted, somehow managing to sound both mechanical and smooth at the same time. “It’s been some time.”

“Twenty-eight deaths in the last month,” Havoc said without preamble. “All labeled as natural causes or equipment malfunctions. Fifteen ‘natural causes’ presenting as heart attacks, strokes, and aneurysms. Thirteen technical failures. The death patterns don’t make sense. The victims range from support staff to junior Heroes to retired Supers. The only connection we’ve found is that most had some association with a specific Alliance training cohort from the Crucible.”

“You mentioned technical failures?” Wraith’s distorted voice asked, a hint of interest breaking through the modulation.

Havoc took a deep breath. “Yes.”

Wraith was silent for a moment. “You suspect tampering with the equipment.”