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Dash: I volunteer as tribute.
Malachi: No. You will be on stage.
Quinn: My lap.
Zane: Get back to work.
I put the phone away and get to it, focusing on the computers and feeling a little less unsettled.
After the rally, Logan saunters back to the van, where I wait for all of the others with the doors open. Logan’s wiping sweat from his brow as he makes his way over, his expression unreadable.
“Nice work out there,” I say, trying to gauge his reaction.
“Thanks,” he replies, his tone casual. “It’s all part of the job, right?”
“Right,” I say slowly. “But you handled that protester like a pro. Where’d you learn to move like that?”
Logan shrugs. “Experience. You pick up a few tricks along the way.”
Before I can press further, my radio crackles to life. “Quinn, we have a situation at the east entrance.” It’s one of the other alpha teams. Usually, Malachi takes care of this shit, but he’s speaking to the mayor.
Damn, we are supposed to be ending this. It’s almost five, and I want to shower before the show, which is looking less and less likely to happen.
“On my way,” I respond, turning to Logan. “Stay here and keep an eye on the mayor. I’ll be back soon.”
Logan nods, and I head off, weaving through the crowd toward the east entrance. As I approach, I see a group of people arguing, their voices rising in anger. A few uniformed officers are trying to keep things under control, but it’s clear they are struggling.
“All right, what’s going on here?” I ask, stepping into the fray.
Damn, I wish Malachi was taking care of this.
One of the officers turns to me, relief evident on his face. “This group is trying to get through the barricade. They say they have a right to be here, but we have orders to keep this area clear.”
I size up the situation quickly. The group is a mix of young and old, their signs and banners indicating they are here to protest Hargrove’s policies. I recognize a few faces from previous rallies—people who are passionate but not usually violent.
“Everyone, calm down,” I say, raising my hands. “We need to keep this area clear for safety reasons. You can protest, but you need to do it from the designated areas.”
Besides, the damn rally is over. What do they plan to do here now?
A woman steps forward, her face flushed with anger. “We have a right to be heard! The mayor needs to see us!”
Ah, so they thought they’d go after him after the rally.
“You have the right to protest,” I agree, keeping my voice steady, “but we have to follow the rules. Let’s move back to the designated area and continue this peacefully.”
There’s grumbling, but the group slowly starts to move back. I keep an eye on them, making sure they aren’t planning anything else. Once things are under control, I turn back toward the stage, my mind still on Logan and the strange feeling I can’t shake.
When I return to the van, Logan is exactly where I left him, his eyes scanning the crowd. He looks up as I approach, and I see a flicker of something in his expression. Relief, maybe? Or is it something else?
“Everything okay?” he asks.
“Yeah, just a minor issue,” I reply. “You handle things here all right?”
“No problems,” he says, his tone even.
I analyze Logan like a complex line of code, searching for the bug that’s causing my system to glitch. He’s encrypted himself well, I’ll give him that, but there’s an anomaly in his algorithm that I can’t quite decode. Until I figure out what it is, I’m keeping a close eye on him.
As the crowd begins to disperse, Malachi’s voice booms over everyone. “Let’s get the fuck out of here. We can debrief tomorrow morning.”
