Free Rise of the Transgenics by J.S. Frankel Page B

wanted to arrest us. What kind of game are you
playing? If you are playing one, then I’m not having any
fun.”
    “It’s no game,” the answer came. “Outside of
you, me and Farrell, and a couple of others, no one else knows your
involvement with the agency. Apparently, a news station got a call
from a woman with a faint accent.”
    Lyudmila, it had to be her, Harry thought.
“Let me guess, she gave a perfect description of me,” he said,
keeping the sarcasm to a minimum.
    The answer came instantly, and if the
Director was angry, it didn’t show in his voice. He sounded totally
matter of fact. “She did. And five minutes after we received a call
from the local police and the news station, Farrell contacted us
and told us to call off the agents.”
    Harry’s first thought was whether the police
would be called off as well, but instead, he asked, “How’s Agent
Farrell?”
    “He’s got a broken arm and lacerations, but
he’ll make it.”
    Great, he survived the attack. Harry thought
quickly and ran through his list of options once more. Really,
there weren’t many, not since he’d found out the police were
looking for him. “I’m sorry about the two other men,” he started to
say. “They didn’t know about—”
    “I know all about them,” Merton interrupted,
and this time his anger came through clearly over the connection.
“If we find out who did this, they won’t last a day.”
    “Good luck on that,” countered Harry.
    Merton’s voice rose in anger. “You don’t know
how much firepower we can bring, son.”
    “Sir, you don’t have any idea of what kind of
damage they can do. One of them’s a cat-girl like Anastasia, and
the other is, I don’t know, like some kind of rhino. I mean, I saw
Anastasia fight them. She might be able to take the cat-girl, but
against that other monster, no way.”
    “Come in. We’ll protect you.”
    “Have you told the police about me or
Anastasia?”
    There was a minute’s pause and then...”No. We
have to keep this quiet.”
    Oh, this was too much! First, the FBI thought
he was guilty, and now the police. And no one could know that there
were transgenic beings running around or else the public would
panic. The people were going to panic anyway, he figured. “Come
in,” the Director repeated.
    “I’m going to say hell no on that,” Harry
countered. “They’d blow us away on sight. If a cop doesn’t shoot
one of us first, then it’s going to be some nutball vigilante. No
thanks, and besides, the two things that attacked us probably know
we’re out there...”
    His voice trailed off as an idea suddenly
occurred to him. “Listen, I have to go, but I’ll contact you
later.”
    He hung up just as the Director started to
talk and ran back to the car. Anastasia curled up in her seat with
her hood pulled over her head. As he drove away, she asked, “What’s
the plan?”
    “We need a hideout, and I know where to find
one.”
     
    The neighborhood was quiet, with snow lining
the street curbs and blanketing the front yards. Upscale and sort
of posh, this neighborhood in Northern New York located near Inwood
Park defined upper-class respectability, as all the houses were
large, many of the residents owned pricey automobiles, and an air
of prosperity prevailed. “We’re going here?” Anastasia asked. “Is
it safe?”
    “It will be.”
    Harry didn’t want to say too much as he
parked the car near his contact’s house and got out after telling
his girlfriend to sit tight. “You don’t know who might be
spying.”
    No car stood in the driveway, so either it
was inside the garage, or his friend’s parents were out. He trotted
up the front walk and knocked on the door. A second later, the door
opened. A tall, skinny, pale-faced young man with dark straight
hair down to his shoulders opened up and rubbed his eyes.
    Wearing a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved
shirt with a picture of two sleeping ponies, he looked like a
gamer’s gamer—and that was what