Rising Tomorrow (Roc de Chere Book 1) by Mariana Morgan (essential reading txt) 📕

on Larsen’s team would dare to treat her, or anyone like her, as such. Those culpable would find their careers terminated so fast they wouldn’t even know what hit them. But even more importantly, Larsen made it a point to surround himself with people who respected all human beings. Sergeant Selissa Bassett was one of the most successful hackers to ever work at the MIS. Her skills made her a highly respected and valued operative, regardless of her Leech rank.

Overall, since the so-called Freedom Wars ended twenty-one years ago, the situation had been improving within the military. Those with a job and a set of skills tended to be valued for the expertise they had. Not quite the same as being treated like a human being, but no longer being thought of as human cannon fodder, as the Leeches had been through the sixty years of bloody conflict, was an improvement.

Of course, one’s luck did play a part when it came to how rose-coloured their future looked. Those serving under Colonel Larsen were probably among the luckiest in the Armed Forces of the Afro-European Alliance. However, regardless of how much the situation had improved since the end of the Wars, a Leech was a Leech.

If an Elite chose to use a Leech for either personal or professional purposes there was very little that could officially be done to stop it, short of removing the Leech in question from the reach of the power-drunk Elite scum. Which was how the barely twenty-two-year-old Selissa Bassett came to work at the MIS nearly four years ago. By the time Major Toscano joined the team a few months later, the terror of the past was almost gone from the younger woman’s eyes…

Major Toscano flinched, physically pushing the memories away and refocusing her attention on the briefing.

‘… have been prepared, sir,’ Colonel Larsen continued. ‘On Monday, I will be officially taking over the investigation as Detective Chief Inspector Raphael Gonzalez, transferred from the police HQ in Nairobi, Southern District. Sergeant Selissa Bassett will be going with me as my personal aide, Gendarme Megan O’Haress.’ An almost suppressed flinch of pain cut through his face. Another person he had no choice but to put in harm’s way.

There had never been a question of Sergeant Bassett not going. Her hacking skills were absolute sorcery. And as his personal aide, Bassett would be about as safe as Colonel Larsen himself was going to be.

Which could mean very little if the op goes tits up on us in a spectacular way. Toscano winced internally.

Major Toscano understood the personal dilemma Larsen struggled with each time he had to put a Leech in a situation where they might be mistreated. She herself felt equally sick, though her own personal experience gave her a far tougher, deeply cynical attitude. Sometimes it did wonders, acting like a barrier separating her from the pain Colonel Larsen would never learn not to feel.

While the military was changing, steadily learning to appreciate skills, law enforcement under the Central Police Inspectorate remained a breeding ground for vile mistreatment. They were eager to hire Leeches as gendarmes for a wide variety of menial tasks and as a cheap, usually disposable, workforce. Of course, what was cheap for the Police Forces and the Elite was a small fortune for the Leeches hopeful to provide food and clothes for the whole family a Leech mother or father often had to take care of. Which was probably the main reason why anyone ever considered a job as a gendarme. The promise of money and a better life had tempted people to do insane things since the beginning of time. And of course, there was always that elusive chance of promotion, first within the police and then inevitably up the social ladder.

No matter how bad things got, some Leeches still hoped that one day they might prove themselves enough to be granted a life as an Elite. And some did, though since the beginning of the Freedom Wars over eighty years ago only a handful had found themselves officially accepted into the Elite, and none since the end of the Wars.

Toscano’s eyes flicked to the War Wall again, to those long forgotten by the world and forever in the memory of their families’ youngsters. Her chest tightened and she forced herself to exhale slowly. What irony that she had to give up all the powers she had as Major Aisha Toscano, born to Elite parents with a sizeable fortune to secure her safety, and become one of the Leeches, who for all intents and purposes had nothing.

The BCC deep in her wrist seemed to burn, and she had to suppress an irrational urge to claw it out. Soon, she would be alone out there, stripped of the comfort and safety she had enjoyed for years, hoping to blend in among the gendarmes at the 4th, to listen to the gossips and stories while dodging the more sadistic Elite police officers. Rising above the tightness in her chest and the fear that caused it, Toscano exhaled again. Oddly, she was actually looking forward to the challenge. At least she was no longer naive or young enough to hope things would turn out fine. Cynicism did funny things to one’s beliefs.

‘Lieutenant Rivas’—Larsen nodded sharply to the tall redhead sitting to his left—‘will be staying behind for now, monitoring the situation from HQ.’

The black silhouette nodded. It was one of the briefest reports Colonel Larsen had ever delivered and he was clearly uneasy about it, but the less the General knew about the plans for the 4th, the better. Even providing him with their cover names was risky, but it was the only way Larsen could give them some sort of security. It gave them hope that if things fell apart, when the dust settled there would be one person who might be able to save whoever was still there to be saved.

‘The civilian?’ the black silhouette asked.

‘Sergeant Bassett is still trying to trace her.’