Read Connor Rix Chronicles 1: Rules of Force for Free Online Page A

room. He washed off his face, then pulled his bag out
of the locker, checked his E-Thing for messages, and slipped his optic
membranes back on his eyes.
    He walked back
out onto the main gym floor, wondering how much longer he should stay tonight.
He looked around the room for new faces. It looked like at least 10 more
fighters were working out. He glanced over to the wall by the heaviest free
weights.
    He froze.
    There, spotting
each other around a weight bench, were three bright red men. Their skin gave
off an unworldly red glow under the lights of the gym; they seemed even
brighter than if they had been outdoors under full sun. It was Joey Pegg and
the two companions KC had mentioned. Three Fightin' Mads. And one of them was
definitely the man in Open Sky's security video.
    He quickly but
smoothly synced his E-Thing to his optics, and blinked the optics into transmit
mode. He called up Angie 6's access code. The feed flared to life after only
the briefest delay, and her face appeared in a small corner of his optical
display.
    "Yes?"
she said curtly.
    Rix engaged the
live feed. He zoomed in tight. "Look familiar?” he whispered.
    She was silent
for a moment. “Don’t move. We’re isolating your location.” Her face disappeared
from his view.
    Rix casually
drifted to a better vantage point, positioning himself so he could view the
three men while working out at one of the weight machines, and thus not look
like he was staring.
    She winked back
on in his optical display.
    "Christ,
Rix, you are quick. Can you keep him there until we arrive?"
    "Uh, New
Mexico Territory is pretty far away… I'm not sure I can hold him here that
long."
    "No, we're
in the DFW area chasing another lead. We'll be there within a half hour."
    "I'll keep
him here or follow him if I can't."
    "Great.
I've got a team already assembled."
      Her image faded from his display.
    Three
Fightin' Mads, hold 'em here… sure, no problem, I do it every day, Rix told himself.   He continued to record as the murderer and his two red
companions worked out. He spent the next few minutes calculating his odds in a
three-on-one fight.

 
    5

    An alert flashed
in his optics. From his perspective, the ghostly three-dimensional readout
floated about a foot-and-a-half in front of him. The optic membrane was thinner
than an old contact lens, and was thus invisible to other people, but still
took practice to use stealthily. The perceived distance was adjustable for that
very reason, and Rix had found the mid-range distance allowed him to read and
scan while still maintaining conversations, without giving off a lost-in-space
look.
    "Rix, meet
us outside." The message danced across his vision.
    True to her
word, it had been 28 minutes since Rix had contacted Angie 6.
    Fortunately, the
first doorman who had let him in had given up his post to another man, saving
Rix the disruption of being questioned on the way out. He slung his gear bag
over his shoulder, partly covering his face on one side, and walked out a
couple steps behind another group of fighters, just another athlete heading
home after his workout. The new doorman didn't even notice as he passed by.
    Outside, Rix
walked around the corner to his truck, and loaded his bag in the lock box
behind the front seat. He grabbed a dark sweatshirt he kept stored there and a
cap that fit low over his eyes, and quickly put them on. A cold front had blown
in that afternoon, and the breeze was picking up. He glanced around him. The
darkness was no obstacle. His optics were the last version the U.S. government
had issued to its covert operatives before The Breakup, and still represented
the most advanced technology available, as far as he knew.
    Therefore Rix
could make out Angie 6's team converging on him before they had come within 30
feet. Still, he was impressed. He had to quickly adjust the sensitivity to
focus on the three men and one woman moving toward him. The stealth fabrics
they were using were first class, the best