Vigilantes Read Online Free

gone into Sevryn’s several times before anyone attacked him, but not enough to establish a pattern. And yet the cops had found him there.
    The smart thing would be to turn around and find a different route to the office. But he didn’t want to do the smart thing. He needed to become stronger. He needed to accept the hatred and live with it.
    He needed his own bodyguards. He would recommend that to Salehi as well when Salehi arrived Any Day Now.
    Zhu took a deep breath. He had to make a decision, instead of cowering on the street corner. He had a lot of meetings today. He was still hiring support staff and lawyers, most of whom were newly minted or had come from places as far away as Earth.
    The cops hadn’t come out of Sevryn’s. Zhu wasn’t sure if he was waiting for them to do so. If they walked down the street, would they come toward him? Would they try to harm him again?
    This time, no one would witness what they did—except maybe whoever was behind that feeling he had.
    That thought was enough to make him look around one more time.
    Jeez, he was being a coward. ( So what else is new? that naggy little voice inside him asked.) He had as much right to be on this street as everyone else did.
    He straightened his shoulders and took a step forward. Right now, he didn’t have a personal bodyguard, so he would have to let his attitude protect him.
    He had to show those bullying cops that he wasn’t afraid of them.
    He walked down the street, and this time, his footsteps echoed. The expensive shoes that he’d bought with S 3 ’s money had an even stronger ring to them than the footsteps he had heard earlier.
    The hair rose on the back of his neck, like it did every time he walked with his body exposed. He ignored the feeling. He had to.
    He walked past Sevryn’s and didn’t look inside—at least, not directly. He turned on one of the few enhancement chips he owned, the ones he’d bought when he first left the Impossibles. The chips expanded his peripheral vision, and let him see everything except what was directly behind him.
    He could walk with his gaze straight ahead and still see what was happening behind his ears.
    He used that additional vision to get a glimpse of the interior of Sevryn’s. The cops, sitting at one of the only tables the place had, quite close to the windows.
    Watching him go by.
    In fact, everyone in line (and there was always a line at Sevryn’s) turned to watch him pass.
    He didn’t move his head or do anything to betray that he had seen them. If they wanted to intimidate him, fine, they had. But they didn’t need to know that.
    He ducked into the deli next door. He had ordered dinner from that place yesterday for the entire office, and had it delivered. The sandwiches were better than Sevryn’s, but some of the baked goods weren’t.
    Still, the place smelled fantastic. Fresh coffee, cinnamon, and a touch of baking bread. His stomach rumbled.
    The woman behind the counter smiled at him. She was older and a little heavyset, her curly hair tired, probably because of the steam rising around her.
    He ordered coffee and a bagel.
    And then he smiled at her.
    Because he could. Because this was his life now.
    Because this was the life he wanted.
    Finally.

 
     
     
     
    FOUR
     
     
    FOR THE SECOND time in two days, Bartholomew Nyquist found himself inside the area between the Peyti and human sections of Armstrong’s Reception Center. That was the euphemistic name of the maximum security prison just outside Armstrong’s dome, where the accused were kept while awaiting trial. The Reception Center had its own dome, with varying environments so it could house various members of the Alliance.
    Once again, Nyquist had been given an environmental suit and mask. He hadn’t needed them the last time, and he hoped he wouldn’t need them this time, either. The things were ancient or filthy or both.
    Because he was in a prison, he couldn’t bring his own suit. Apparently, prison officials