The Liberation Brigade sat in the back of a work van outside of a non-descript corporate building on the edge of the mid-city. Mirror glass shined with the glow of numerous ads plastered on all available space. Tom drummed the steering wheel with thick fingers while Scott popped gum. Ben was conspicuously absent.

  “Don’t look so glum,” Vicky said as she offered Owen his mask. “We made this for you. Happy birthday.” It was made of hard black plastic and featureless aside from the eye and air holes. “It’s a step up from a painted coliseum mask. No more spray in the eyes.” Vicky donned her mask and slapped Owen on the shoulder.

  “Hope not,” Owen said.

  “I had that made special for you. Now you look like one of us,” Tuck said. “But you’ve been one of us for longer than that. We all know that.”

  Owen smiled at the mask. He was one of them. A true member of the Liberation Brigade. He was a fake everywhere else. He thought about Amber. He lied to her every time they met. He saw himself reflected in the lenses of his mask. Who was looking back at him? Owen Lamb, the freedom fighter. Or Owen Lamb who was getting more and more comfortable with Amber Callahan and a career in the fighting league.

  “Yeah, Owen,” Tom said. “You’re a real member of the resistance. I couldn’t do undercover like you.” He shuddered. “I’d be too nervous.”

  “Are you done sucking his dick?” Naomi asked. Her mask was perched on top of her head while she stared at an old scratchpad. “Camera feed is looping last night’s recording. The building is empty.” Maps popped on her screen and she quickly sorted through them. “Fortieth floor. Office forty twelve. It’s where they handle city planning.”

  “You sure? What about security” Tuck asked.

  “Couple rent-a-badges patrolling in a car. No one inside.”

  “Good. Everyone remember what I said?” They nodded. “Then let’s get it done. Circle the block, Tom.”

  Tuck slid the van door open while it was still in motion. They hopped out one at a time, landing in the shadow of a sign designating it as part of Montez Holdings. The building rented office space to numerous businesses in the city. It was one of thousands of identical monoliths dotting the city. Not as big as a residential tower, but still a behemoth of concrete.

  Security around the building was low. Most attacks came over the internet, not through the front door. A pair of guards patrolled the exterior grounds on a small cart. It took them six minutes to circle the building leaving plenty of time for Naomi to unlock the building’s service entrance.

  “Stairs,” Tuck said. He held the emergency staircase open and ushered everyone in. “Move quietly.” Owen sighed. The stairs were narrow, and during an emergency there was no way they could accommodate the volume of fleeing workers. The elevator was too risky to use. If they got caught the elevator would quickly become a tomb. Halfway up the stairs to the fortieth floor, Owen considered it worth the risk.

  It was well past closing time and according to Naomi’s research there wasn’t any security patrolling the interior. The night cleanup crew left several hours before the team’s arrival. It was eerie to think they were the only souls inside a building meant to hold thousands.

  On the fortieth floor Tuck activated a chest mounted light and led them to office forty twelve. Owen noticed the smell of pumpkin spice candles first. The scent clung to everything. Morale boosting posters were tacked to soul sucking cubicles that lay sleeping until their employees returned in the morning.

  “Keep working hard,” Owen said to himself as he looked at a poster of a man holding a cup. He smiled wide, his perfect white teeth showed off. Behind him was a sea of workers at screens.

  “Every hard drive,” Tuck said. “We’ll sort the data later.” With that they got to work. Owen and Naomi ran the team through a crash course on safely removing the hard drive. It wasn’t complicated, but they couldn’t just yank it out. All team members wore duffel bags to hold the stolen drives.

  “Easier than it looks?” Owen asked Vicky as he removed his third hard drive. He didn’t know what they were after, only that at least one hard drive contained the required information.

  “Shit,” Ed whispered. “Stripped a screw.”

  “Delicate,” Naomi hissed.

  “Hey, Owen,” Sensei Dan said. “Look at this.” He stood in front of a wall plastered with architectural blueprints. “I think this is a planning office of some sort. What the hell are you guys after here?” He strolled through the office, peeking over cubicles and scoffing. “This place is hell on earth. Hunched over a keyboard all day under fluorescent lights, no way, no how. I had a nine to five once. Worked at Mama July’s rib shack. That was before I met Sensei Ricky. He changed my life.”

  Owen’s duffel bag grew heavy with stolen hard drives. He was on his last when he went sprawling into a cubicle wall. He rolled to his back and standing over him was a man in a dark body suit and face mask with eyes that had a slight green glow. He pulled a long curved knife off his belt and growled at Owen. Behind him several men descended from the ceiling tiles.

  “Specters!” Tuck shouted. Owen heard something break. “Get out now!” Running feet. Broken glass. Destroyed computers. The symphony of a plan going to shit.

  “All by yourself,” the specter growled. “What do you want with those drives?” He lunged at Owen and caught a boot to his chest. Owen hopped to his feet and flung a stapler at the specter.

  “Owen, you’ve been holding out on me!” Sensei Dan shouted with glee. “You didn’t tell me you had ninjas!”

  Several ceiling tiles were askew. Specters were elite security in City Seven. They hid above, waiting for the prime moment to strike. Owen stood alone against the ninja, his dagger’s edge shining in dim light.

  “Remember what I taught you,” Sensei Dan said. “You can’t beat a knife with your fists.” Owen dodged savage slices. “If you engage you will be cut.” The knife caught his shoulder, cutting his sweater and skin in a smooth motion. Warm blood soaked into his sleeve. It didn’t hurt, not yet. “Find a weapon, even the odds.” He grabbed a thick keyboard and used it as a makeshift shield.

  Plastic keys scattered on the cheap carpet as Owen searched for an opening. The ninja moved his knife from hand to hand. Smooth as butter. He stabbed at Owen’s neck. His knife went straight through the keyboard and Owen twisted the knife out of his hand.

  “Attack now!” Sensei Dan shouted. Owen threw a Hardknuckle Punch. The ninja countered. He slipped beside Owen and kicked him in the gut. A follow up elbow smashed his temple. Cracked his mask. “He isn’t an amateur. Treat him with respect.”

  Owen wanted to survive. He knew specters existed. They were sometimes featured in movies as unstoppable heroes that battle their way through legions of criminal enemies. He thought it was fantasy, but the specter didn’t give him an inch. He countered each strike with an attack of his own. Owen’s head throbbed as he took another kick. The specter wasn’t just good, he was way better than Owen.

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Thwack! Thwack! Owen took two kicks to the thigh. One after the other. Son of a bitch was chopping his tree. Owen wondered where the others were. He couldn’t take the time to look. Even blinking felt like too long to lose his enemy.

  “You aren’t very good,” the specter said. He hit Owen with a punch that sent him sprawling into a cubicle. The thin partition cracked in half. “Why are you here?” He grabbed the duffle bag strap and flung Owen away from the cubicle like a rag doll. He zipped forward, punches a kicks a blur. He kicked Owen in the chest and sent him flat on his back. “I expected more.”

  Owen hopped to his feet. He wasn’t thinking anymore. Pure rage filled his body. He hadn’t spent so much time training to get caught stealing hard drives. He punched and kicked. Hardknuckle kata came alive as he surged forward. Punch, punch, kick. Kick, punch sweep. He tried a variety of combinations, but Owen couldn’t land a hit. He could swear the specter was smiling behind his mask as he wove through Owen’s assault.

  A computer smashed into the ninja’s head from behind. Ed was behind him. He contended with his own specter, but took the time to save Owen’s ass.

  Owen threw a solid front kick. Hit the ninja in his chest. Sent him to his back. Right on top of the knife still impaled on the keyboard. The ninja let out a single pained gasp. Like he was surprised. Then nothing. The knife stuck out of his chest like a spike. Glistened with his blood. Owen stared at him for what felt like minutes.

  “Let’s go!” Ed shouted, freeing Owen from his shock. A female specter with a slashed throat flailed near Ed’s feet. Her hands were on her neck to stem the bleeding. Owen sprinted out of the office, hard drives in his duffel bag jangling.

  “Where are the others?” Owen asked. His side ached. He thought his ribs might’ve been broken.

  “They fucked off with a couple specters after them.” Ed skidded to a stop. Four specters armed with knives and hatchets blocked their path. “Fuck me! This way.” Ed burst through a nearby office door and blocked it with a chair when Owen was through. “Fuck me! Think, think, think.” They were trapped. One way in, one way out. The ninjas bashed the door and they’d be through quickly. Why was the door so thin?

  “Cut corners!” Owen screamed. He had a terrible idea but it beat fighting four armed ninjas in a confined space. “Ed!” Owen ran to an adjoined wall and knocked at it. He smiled at the corporate greed and threw a straight punch through the thin wall.

  “Good thinking, kid. Move!” Ed charged the wall and smashed through it. “Keep moving.” They fled out of the office before the ninjas made it past the door and found the elevators. Ed hammered the button and the door dinged open. They slipped inside and breathed heavy as the doors slid shut. “Shit. What the fuck? Why the fuck do they have specters? What the fuck is in these hard drives?”

  “I take it that’s not normal,” Owen said. He touched his side and dared to push on his ribs. Not broken, just bruised.

  “Not at all.” Ed took a deep breath. “Mei Chen. They caught Mei Chen digging through their system and they’ve been waiting for us.” Ed punched the elevator wall. “There’s got to be something good if they’ve got specters camping out in the ceiling. It’s a whole team of them too. Around ten if I had to guess. Who owns this building?”

  “Montez Holdings. I killed someone.” Owen swallowed. “I killed someone.” The elevator felt smaller than it really was. His entire world spun. He killed a man.

  “Sometimes that happens in a fight,” Ed said softly. “Get it together. This firm is called Aurora Designs, but no normal design firm is hiring security like that to protect some floor plans. That means someone else owns the company that rents the space. Yamada or Callahan. Do not let them take you alive.” There was a thud from above. “Oh, what the fuck now?”

  The elevator descended but someone was walking around above them. The service hatch opened and a ninja dropped in. He attacked like an animal, a pair of knives in both hands serving as claws. He twirled between Ed and Owen, giving them shallow slices across their arms. He couldn’t get a full swing in the close confines of the elevator but his knives kept his enemies at bay.

  It was all Owen could do to survive. The specter moved too fast to track. When Owen moved to help Ed he took another cut on his arm. Ed was bleeding badly and the specter wasn’t bleeding at all.

  “One chance to surrender,” the specter said.

  Owen pulled off his duffle bag and flung it at the ninja. He caught the bag. An opening appeared. Owen grabbed one arm while Ed grabbed the other. They wrestled the ninja to the ground and Ed managed to steal the knife. He stabbed so fast Owen could barely see it happening. In seconds the ninja was dead and his blood soaked Owen’s pants.

  “Him or us, kid,” Ed said. The elevator dinged as they reached the bottom floor. They made a hasty escape from the building.

  “Get out of the car now!” Ed shouted at the nearby security guards taking a smoke break. They weren’t armed with anything bigger than pepper spray and Ed had a big knife. Ed’s shouting drove them off. They hopped inside the car. Tom and the van were nowhere in sight.

  “Is that it?” Owen asked. “Are we safe?”

  “Nope,” Ed said. He glanced at the rearview mirror and Owen looked back. Three peacekeeper squad cars were hot on their trail. A high speed drone led the way. “Seat belt on.” He hit the gas and the security car rocketed up the street.

  Low traffic didn’t mean zero traffic. The digital speedometer rose. Fifty, sixty, seventy, eighty. Ed topped off at eighty miles an hour as he weaved through traffic. Owen clutched the duffle bag and hyperventilated. His heart thudded in his chest faster than a jack hammer. The peacekeepers were still just behind them, sirens and horns blaring as they ordered Ed to stop.

  He slowed down. Tires squealed as the car slid hard across the asphalt. The car smashed into a brick wall on Owen’s side. His window shattered and the mirror busted off. Ed floored it into a narrow alley and the drones pursued.

  “Hate those fucking things,” Ed said. He left the alley and entered a street where more peacekeeper cars were waiting. “Motherfucker!” He drove around the PKs. “I need those drones off of us. Look in the back. Come on, knight!”

  Ed’s shouting brought Owen back to reality. He dropped the duffle on the floor boards and climbed into the back seat. A few plastic crates were kept in the back. One was longer than the others. SUBJECT RESTRAINT ASSISTANCE SYSTEM was stamped on the box.

  Owen opened it and saw a device that resembled a rifle. It was bulky and had an air cartridge affixed to its rear. Instructions were labeled on the box’s lid.

  “Oh, shit,” Owen said as he pulled the SRAS free. “I think this will work.” It didn’t look hard to use.

  “It better.”

  Owen moved quickly. He leaned out of the car window and aimed. Three laser dots appeared on the approaching drone. Owen fired. The net flew free. The drone took an evasive maneuver. Not fast enough. The net clipped one of its rotors and down it went.

  They sped away from the site. Ditched the car a couple miles away. Owen still heard sirens as they hid inside a stinking dumpster to plan their next move. Owen fought the urge to vomit as the stench was all that existed in his world. For just a second he forgot about the specter and the knife through his chest.

  “Tuck, you there?” Ed asked on the radio. “Tuck?”

  “I’m here,” Tuck said quietly. “Took out the specters on our tail. Tom grabbed us before it got too hot. You got eyes on Owen?”

  “I got him.” Ed said. He patted Owen’s shoulder. “Everyone else?”

  “With me. No casualties. Not on our side. We got what we came for. Lay low for awhile. It’s too dangerous to meet up.” Tuck cut radio contact. Ed sighed.

  “That fucker. Give me that bag.” He took the hard drives from Owen. “He’s hiding something from us. No reason there should have been specters there. Not one. I’m tired of playing these shadow games! You don’t hide stuff like that from your team.”

  “I killed someone tonight,” Owen said. “I didn’t mean to. It just happened.” He knew deep down it was a possibility. It didn’t make Owen feel any better. He started thinking about the specter’s hypothetical family. Did he have kids? A wife? People who were going to mourn him because he was murdered by some prick stealing hard drives?

  “It’ll be alright. He would’ve killed you and he wouldn’t have given it a second thought. How messed up are you?”

  “I got a few cuts. Nothing serious.” There was blood on his cut sleeves, but most of the blood on him wasn’t his. It belonged to the specter Ed knifed in the elevator.

  “Me too. I’ll get you stitched up. We won’t make it home looking like this. Need to call in a favor.”

  Ed took out a limited use scratchpad. They were cheap and could only be used to make calls. He gave someone their location. A couple hours later a beat up sedan pulled up to get them. Fred from the soda bar. Owen tried to relax in the relative safety of the back seat. He couldn’t get comfortable. Not when he kept replaying the kick that ended a life in his head.