Mind Storm by K.M. Ruiz

showed up on the government’s security grid through bioscans from the signal that their implanted neurotrackers transmitted, a precaution that was law. If they dropped off the grid, they were either dead or attempting an escape, the latter of which resulted in the former.
    There was no way out of the Strykers Syndicate except by death. Everyone knew that.
    Ciari made her way silently to a room where a Stryker and a human were still struggling to locate four missing Strykers and having no luck. When she entered, the Stryker stood as a sign of respect. The human remained seated. Ciari didn’t take it as an insult.
    â€œContact Jael,” Ciari said. “Tell her to report here for a termination.”
    The Stryker bit back whatever protest he wanted to voice and did as Ciari ordered. He was a telepath, as was Jael, so in seconds Ciari felt the other woman’s mind pressing against her mental shields.
    You can’t be serious, Jael protested. That’s one of our strongest teams and our strongest telepath you want to terminate.
    It’s the order Erik gave. I need you as a witness and to sign off on their deaths.
    For all that the World Court owned the Strykers and had control of their lives, their capacity for justice paled in the face of their cruelty. That wasn’t a popular opinion, but most people weren’t psions, beholden to a tangle of delicate, devastating bioware in the back of their head capable of killing them. Rarely did the World Court terminate Strykers themselves. They gave the order to do so.
    The OIC initiated the punishment at the World Court’s command in situations like this. The act was a punishment in and of itself. A reminder of who was really in control.
    Jael arrived some minutes later, her white scrubs spattered here and there with blood. She’d been doing rounds when Ciari had summoned her. Ciari knew the other woman would prefer to be there and not here, but they both knew how to do their job, as distasteful as it was sometimes.
    â€œCiari,” Jael said, her voice flatly neutral.
    â€œDismissed,” Ciari said to the pair of handlers. The Stryker and the human left in silence. Ciari knew word of this termination would spread through the ranks within the hour.
    Hate, when projected by several hundred people directly at her, always gave Ciari a migraine, despite her shields.
    The door slid shut, leaving her and Jael alone in their personal hell. Jael stepped forward, her eyes flickering over the data on the hologrid before them, a map of what was left of the world prominently displayed.
    â€œI hate this part,” Jael said through clenched teeth.
    â€œMe, too,” Ciari said quietly before raising her voice. “Computer, mission override. Authorization code Sigma Two Seven One Zeta. Request termination sequence.”
    â€œVoice identification confirmed. Ciari Treiva, Officer in Charge,” the computer’s voice announced in a gratingly pleasant tone so at odds with what they were doing. “Initiating termination sequence.”
    Jael let out an explosive sigh. “Chief Medical Officer Jael Dawson present as witness.”
    â€œMedical authority present, witness acknowledged,” the computer responded. “Request Stryker files.”
    â€œPull entire files of the following Strykers,” Ciari said, her voice curiously calm. “Threnody Corwin, Quinton Martinez, Kerr MacDougal, and Jason Garret.”
    â€œAcknowledged. Files found.”
    Four dossiers opened, laid atop the world map on the hologrid. Four faces frozen in holopics stared out at them. Four lives were written out in reports of strengths and weaknesses, missions accomplished and missions failed. Numbers, words, that didn’t fully encompass the lives Ciari was being forced to cut short. They never did.
    â€œLocation of targets?” Ciari asked.
    â€œLocation unknown.”
    Ciari’s gaze never wavered as she pressed her hand down on the