Book 2: Chapter 90: The End in Sight (1/2)

”Daniel Newman?” Echo mused as he read the text from his man in the Miami Police Department. ”That name rings a bell.”

Bartholomew's nemesis, or so the deranged Genius had described him. Given that Bartholomew had dropped completely off the grid, while Newman was apparently alive and well, there very well might have been some veracity to the claim. Either Daniel Newman was more dangerous than he appeared to be, or Andros Bartholomew had split from the People. Both were equally likely.

Echo really should have kept a closer eye on Bartholomew. The shoddily replicated Genius upgrade they'd given the man had been intended as little more than a thought experiment. Could you break an inferior upgrade? And what would happen if you did? The hope was to match the original Genius upgrades with a Broken Natural of their own. One that could grow in strength, and hopefully keep some level of stability.

Bartholomew had been a cooperative and enthusiastic volunteer, obsessed as he was with powers, but he'd shown no signs of greatness. His achievements in identifying and copying upgrade patterns might have been impressive in another organization, but the People were dedicated to the elimination of upgrades altogether. What was the point of a scientist dedicated to copying that which they wanted to destroy?

But the feds had succeeded where the People had failed. Bartholomew had broken, and was as close to a Genius as one would see in the present day. And now he was dead, or on the lam. How unfortunate. Echo sighed, but shifted to more important things. The end was approaching, and his time was running out. If this Daniel Newman had discovered the secret of Safemaker's havens, then Anastasia would be moving soon. He had decisions to make.

He glanced around the large library he had sequestered himself in. It was an astonishing place, this. Three stories, each as wide as a football field, and filled with bookshelves. There were half a dozen conference rooms on each floor that could be reserved by those with the proper identification, and rows of public computer terminals lining the walls of the complex. Echo chose the closest one, and sat down in front of it. He stuffed his backpack beneath the desk and nodded to the young woman occupying the neighboring terminal, who smiled prettily back at him.

No, not him. At Safemaker, whose face Echo was wearing. It served as an adequate disguise. Nobody was looking for a man who had died almost half a century ago. The People operative known as Safemaker was little more than a fabrication; one more layer of deceit to keep the People safe. Just the lingering shade of a man who had left the world a worse place than he'd found it. Echo had put his gifts to much better use than the original ever would have.

Echo inserted a pilfered identification card into the terminal and the computer hummed to life. He sent off a text while he waited for it to wake up.

Echo 6:45: Trouble possibly inc. Set up the cameras.

Gateway 6:45: ETA?

Echo 6:46: Uncertain.

The monitor brightened and Echo opened up a web search. He entered Daniel Newman's name and scrolled through the results, while tapping out another text with his free hand.

Echo 6:46: They've found a way inside.

Bastion 6:47: We are ready to proceed.

When one was the head of a nation-spanning group of freedom fighters, multitasking becomes a necessary skill to learn. Echo was quite proficient at it, and that was before his Natural talents came into play. His eyes scanned the computer screen, taking in Daniel Newman's minute digital footprint. The man was ostensibly a mutated short-hop. If that were the case, he was the single most flexible mutate that Echo had ever heard of. Far more likely was that he was a Natural, hiding his status under Anastasia's vast umbrella of influence.

What a shame, shame could be. Such an adaptable power would have been a tremendous asset to the People. Anastasia had clearly twisted the poor fool in some way. Perhaps it was not too late. It would depend entirely on how these next few days went. The veil of ignorance was about to be pulled away from the country. They called his People terrorists. He would show the country their true terrorists.

If only he had more time. He entertained, for a moment, thoughts of retreat. Gateway could get them out of the state, and they could return to hiding. It would buy some time, but not enough. The country was riled and someone needed to take the blame. The politicians would send their teams of murderers to forever harry the People's footsteps. With the havens broken, it was inevitable. They'd find him eventually. They'd put him on display like a deer carcass, strung up across White House pillars. Echo, leader of the People, dead at last.

He could try and have Newman killed, though at this point he doubted his ability to succeed before things reached their tipping point. A man with that kind of mobility was impossibly difficult to keep track of. Was it worth it to try anyway? How much would that death buy him? A few days? A week? His plan called for confrontation anyway, so what would it even matter? No need to waste the life of a Natural when it brought Echo no gain.

Better to choose his battlefield, against an old and familiar foe. Better that he have a chance of success, even if death might find him. If he must die, he would die standing. Not running away.

His phone vibrated in his palm, and he checked the message.

Gateway 7:05: Done.