Costa didn’t reply. Leah was drawing breath to ask again when Patrick’s voice cut her short. ‘Hargrove. Simon Hargrove.’
The name meant nothing to Greg – at least, not that he could remember. He checked the others’ faces, and Cayden’s, and saw the same attitude. Something nagged at the back of his mind, but he couldn’t place it. Filing it for later, he looked to Patrick once more. ‘And?’
The colonel seemed angry and relieved, all at once – as if he’d gotten a huge worry off his chest, and was glad he wasn’t facing a bullet for it. ‘Like Agent Costa claims, I don’t know the man that well. Did seem that he has friends in certain high places, though, back East.’
‘Colonel,’ Costa said warningly.
Patrick rounded on him. The scorching look in his eyes made Costa’s mouth snap shut. Pivoting to face the table again, the Ranger continued, in a robotic monotone. ‘When Hargrove and the others on their team arrived on my base, all they told me was that there’d been a break-in at a classified facility in D.C. They said the intruders had nearly been caught, in Chicago, but escaped, and were coming into my area of operations. Costa flashed his Agency ID when he showed up at the last minute, but that was all the authorisation I saw from the whole group. With that, and Hargrove’s attitude, I pegged it for a covert op from the start, although I had some doubts. When I saw Hargrove’s people in action, at Monticello Airfield—’
Patrick fell silent and grim, for a moment. ‘No human could take the kind of damage they did. I wasn’t the first on scene, so I didn’t see the fighting itself – but the Osprey pilots got a few glimpses, and I saw the after-effects. Anyone else – Rangers, Special Forces, Marines, whatever – they’d be on stretchers, if they were lucky. These four looked like they’d gone through a light boxing class, and nothing else. It was then I knew for sure that all this wasn’t a manhunt. I didn’t know what it was, anymore.’ He shot another hard look at Costa. ‘And after Hargrove and his brown-coat boys came out with the prisoner in a body bag, I was damn sure it wasn’t going to end with just one corpse.’
Greg’s fists clenched on the table. A swift look to Leah; she showed the same restrained fury, all the stronger for not being surprised. He realised he wasn’t either, and hated it. Caswell had rejected coming with them, so it shouldn’t have surprised him whoever was chasing them would dispose of the ex-sergeant if he didn’t talk, or out of expediency. That, of course, didn’t dampen his anger in the slightest; if anything, it made it hotter.
Features boiling, Cayden took two slow, silent steps toward the prisoners, the long blade appearing in his hand. One more move would have the older Golem standing over them, throats slit, or stabbed between just the right vertebrae. Greg made a hasty but subtle jerk with one hand: No. Cayden stopped, blade still at the ready. His hand quivered, readying itself for a throw. Greg made the same motion, sharper this time. There was still more to be found out, and it wouldn’t help if their two best leads were carved up. Cayden had to know that, vengeance or not.
After a few seconds more, Cayden lowered the knife, and stuck it beneath his coverall. Darting a furious look Greg’s way, he stepped back into place. His hands clenched once, twice, then lay still at his sides. The bland mask slid back on, incrementally. Greg let out a silent breath. The whole incident had lasted less than a couple of seconds; Patrick and Costa hadn’t noticed. Leah sent him a concerned glance, but said nothing.
If the others on the Council had noticed the silent exchange, they showed no sign. Hiroshi pressed on, voice neutral. ‘I see. But you stayed with the manhunt; coming all the way out here, in fact, well outside your operating zone. Why is that?’
Patrick sent Costa another glare. ‘Orders. From his bosses – and, supposedly, whoever Hargrove’s were. They came to me and mine acting like a team, but it was pretty obvious who was on top, with them.’ Costa reddened with anger, but didn’t speak. Patrick continued, ‘After Monticello, they were tenser, but all I was told was that I should get together a team of my best, and that we were being added to the hunt for the duration. I could tell Costa wasn’t happy dealing with Hargrove, so I thought we could at least work together until it was over – then get as far apart as possible.’ He let out a bitter huff of laughter. ‘So much for that, as it turned out.’
‘That’s why you and the team came out here on your own, then?’ Leah asked. ‘End the hunt a little quicker, and maybe show up Hargrove for dragging you into it?’
Patrick’s jaw ground back and forth. ‘Not exactly.’ His teeth creaked, audible enough even without Golem hearing. Yet another sharp look at Costa. ‘We were there at his insistence, as a compromise. The flyboys we were working with on our latest leg, they wanted to recon the Sound by air, get a better idea of the terrain and fallout risks, and maybe follow a route I’d mapped before that avoided the worst in both cases. Hargrove wanted to charge in: just him and whatever his people were, alone. The agent suggested a third option: me, him, and my team, making a general sweep of the area surrounding the site where the plane went down – yours, I’m guessing?’ He made a small gesture towards Greg and Leah. When neither of them denied it, he went on, glaring at Costa again: We were airborne for about five minutes, when he finally showed his face and ID on my chopper – he’d held back one of my men and dressed in similar gear, so I wouldn’t notice right off. I don’t know how he made it onto the base – being a spook, it probably wasn’t hard.’ Costa looked both annoyed and pleased at this. ‘I almost threw him out the bay door right then, but we had a mission to complete – and I wanted to know exactly who we were chasing.’
Costa paled a little, but kept his mouth shut. Patrick continued, in the same flat recitation. ‘We were making a second sweep of the area below Eatonville, when we spotted him.’ He jerked his chin toward Cayden. The Golem didn’t react, continuing to stare balefully at the two men. ‘Given the rads in the area, and the likeliest routes west from the crash site, it was obvious it was one of your group.’ He flexed his wrists, pushing them against the cuffs. ‘We suspected the others were nearby – but we didn’t expect other company, not then.’ The colonel shifted his shoulders, standing at attention again. ‘You obviously know the rest.’
‘Yes – to a point,’ Hiroshi said. Costa looked surprised; Patrick’s brow furrowed, but otherwise he remained still. The Council chair went on, ‘When you began this second sweep, did you send out any alerts? Any updates on the search, or fallout spread?’
For maybe ten seconds, Patrick didn’t reply. Costa didn’t speak, either, although his eyes darted from the colonel to the group, and back, as though gauging who would break – or if he should. Hiroshi didn’t press them, only staring back with an air of infinite calmness. At last, the colonel spoke. ‘We held off on regular check-ins, since we were unaware of what was actually in the CZ after ten years. Still, we tried. Right before spotting your group, in fact. We forwarded our readings on the rad dispersal, and our estimated return to base given fuel consumption and wind patterns. No reply ever came – nothing but static.’
He shifted in place, looking ill at ease. ‘The choppers were new models, and rad-hardened; there shouldn’t have been any issues. I was just about to order us to a higher altitude, see if we could get above any fallout or other interference closer to the ground that might somehow be playing havoc with our gear. That’s when we saw him’—he gestured in Cayden’s direction again—‘and decided comms could wait until we had you all tagged and bagged.’
‘Instead the opposite happened,’ Hiroshi said, without any sign of mockery. ‘And when you came under fire from our people, you sent out a distress signal to this backup, like any soldier would?’
Patrick’s brow creased again. ‘Maybe,’ he grunted. ‘Why?’
Hiroshi hesitated. Greg stared; he’d never seen the other Golem so uncertain. When the pause had stretched to maybe three seconds, the Council leader gave a clipped nod to Megan. Keeping her eyes fixed on the colonel, she reached down beside her chair, and brought up a plai
n cardboard box, like the several others sitting around the room. Judging from the size—
His hands gripped the edge of the table in reflex. He could tell where this was going. Her face grim, as of a soldier with an unpleasant duty, Megan pulled the flaps open, reached inside and drew out the battered Ranger helmet. In the blend of harsh indoor and soft outdoor light, the dried blood was easy to see.
The Ranger colonel’s face congealed, with shock and anger both. With jerky steps, he approached the table. There was the faintest tremble in his hands as he picked up the helmet, turning it this way and that for a full view. When he saw the name, he froze again. Megan moved a hand out of sight. Hiroshi stopped her with a look.
His movements slow and exaggerated, Patrick set the helmet back on the table. ‘Duncan.’ His tone was flat, but brimming with fury. ‘The kid followed me all through the Turmoil, from his first day out of West Point and straight into Ranger School.’ His eyes were bright as blowtorches. ‘Where did this come from?’ His voice was quiet, and strangled with rage.
‘One of our patrols found it this morning,’ Hiroshi answered. ‘We are still unclear on the details, but it seems someone found your patrol after our departure, and… arranged for their demise. We have theories, and some evidence, but nothing concrete.’
Patrick’s hands folded into fists. The muscles in his neck stood out in the overhead lights. ‘Survivors?’ he bit off. The anger in his gaze brightened, if that was possible. ‘Bodies?’
Another round of wary looks went around the table. ‘We didn’t find any,’ Hiroshi replied. ‘There were some remains, but we’re not sure who they belong to.’
The colonel drew back, confusion now warring with anger. ‘What… What do you mean, remains?’ His voice rose. ‘Where are my men? Where the fuck are they?!’
He started forward, hands raised. Cayden was behind him at once, one hand clamped on the shoulder of the Ranger’s uniform. Patrick twisted around, fist lashing out. Cayden caught the punch on his jaw, unblinking, then grabbed the officer’s arm. Patrick struggled some more, but to no effect.
‘Hey, easy! Easy!’ Costa stepped up, grabbing Patrick’s arms. Bit by bit, the Ranger desisted. At a look from Greg, Cayden released his grip. Patrick’s breath came in short, sharp gasps. Savagely, he shook off Costa’s hands and stomped away, coming to a halt beside the fire pit. His face was beet-red. He brought both hands to his mouth, breathing deeply. Greg, Leah and the others sat immobile, waiting. When a minute or two had passed, Patrick turned to face the group again. He was calmer, but his eyes were glistening with unshed tears. Mechanically, he approached the table again, holding himself straight as a pillar.
Hiroshi waited until he was a few paces away before speaking. ‘I understand your anger, Colonel. We all do, everyone on this Council – and those among the rest of our group who are familiar with the situation. And we also realise that you would have difficulty believing our claims of innocence, given all that’s happened. So we can only say that we did not harm your men, in any way, since the events at our first encounter outside Eatonville. We had no reason to then – unless you had persisted in attacking us – and we have even less reason now. We are trying to ascertain how and why your men were dealt with, but at this time, all we have are theories. That is one of the primary reasons the two of you were brought here. To help us, and perhaps come to understand us, and our goals.’
Patrick sucked in a breath, letting it out in a long, quiet gush. ‘Fine,’ he said hoarsely. He lashed a finger at Costa. ‘Then maybe you should talk to my “colleague” here first. He’s been slightly less in the dark than me since this goddamn disaster landed on my doorstep.’ Pivoting, he started toward the far end of the Longhouse. His crisp step soon turned into an awkward shuffle-march. He sat down hard on one of the benches, and hunched forward, staring unseeing at the floor, hands clamped on his knees.
Cayden moved a few paces closer, watching him. Patrick didn’t appear to notice. Nor did Greg think it was needed. All the vaunted Ranger discipline appeared to have fled, leaving only an angry, confused shell. Whoknows what he saw before this, for him to react that way, he thought. Must’ve been holding that in for a while, even before he got attached to this. All those missions and sweeps, with the same men– they’re family by now. Just like us…
Setting that thought aside, he looked to Costa. The agent was facing the group, eyes darting to meet each of their gazes. He cleared his throat. ‘Before I say anything, you mentioned you had theories. What, exactly?’
Hiroshi looked down the table at Greg. He nodded, and reached for a flap at the waist of his clinger. When his hand reappeared, it held the vial Megan had brought. He set it on the table. ‘What do you know about this?’ he asked.
Still wary, Costa picked up the vial, bringing it almost to his nose. His eyes widened when he noted the greyish-white colour. ‘Looks like something Patrick’s people found, back in Wisconsin. Around the site of a destroyed cabin or house, in an old National Park forest.’ He held it away at arm’s length, between thumb and finger. ‘What is it?’
‘It’s what we call “Tacitus”,’ Megan said. She was frowning at the agent, undoubtedly still unsure how much of a threat he posed. ‘It’s a compound designed to break down the cellular bonds between certain materials – wood, stone, metal – and reduce them, literally, to dust—a desert, in other words, like the old Roman it’s named after described. We don’t fully understand how it works – we weren’t read into the specifics of its design, nor trained to do so. We use it for wrecking buildings or equipment during missions, or when on scorched-earth manoeuvres in retreat.’ She nodded in Greg and Leah’s direction, and Cayden’s. ‘They used a small amount to destroy a safehouse in Chequamegon; your searchers probably came across some trace of it that hadn’t fully decomposed. Other than that, all the existing stocks are in our care – or so we were led to believe.’
She gestured at the vial. ‘That is an un-decomposed sample taken from the site where we found the helmet, and a few other traces of the Ranger patrol you were with. Judging from what we found, somebody arrived at the site, killed the patrol on the spot, then dragged them to another area and doused them in the powder. They would’ve been broken down into ashes within minutes – and given how undisturbed the site was, we’ve pinpointed it to within a few hours ago.’
Costa made a gagging noise. After gulping once or twice, he mastered himself, slipping the Agency mask back on, and set the vial on the table. ‘You know who that somebody is?’ he asked woodenly.
Greg nodded. ‘Those brown-coat friends of yours, and Hargrove’s. They’ve been tracking us since D.C. They have similar skills and equipment to our own – and possibly the same form of regeneration ability.’ He paused, giving Costa a chance to confirm or deny. The agent didn’t, which was an answer in itself. ‘Our theory at this time is they’re another black-ops outfit, possibly some attempt at building off the Project template. We have no idea who they’re working for, other than Hargrove, or what they are. The only thing we’re certain of is that they aren’t from our ranks – and they wanted the canister and its contents.’
Costa looked at each one of them in turn, the mask back on. ‘And they had something else special up their sleeves, right? Something that might’ve given them an edge – maybe slowed the two of you down?’
The room temperature seemed to plummet ten degrees. Leah and Jorge exchanged concerned looks. Greg stood up, slowly. ‘What makes you say that?’ he asked, wary again.
Costa looked him in the eye. ‘Because I found a piece of that something at the scene in Chicago. Something that, given what I was told about you, would have to be the ultimate ace-in-the-hole – and yet somehow it didn’t work.’
The Council members stared hard at him. He bore these glares with a growing show of strength. ‘Before I was assigned to the manhunt, I was given a rundown on all the strengths and capabilities of your type, along with any potential weaknesses; a more detailed version of the material I w
as given. With everything the files I had access to described, I was curious as to why there wouldn’t be an off switch somewhere, under the Project’s control or D.C.’s.’
Costa bent down, reaching for his right boot. Greg tensed, but no weapon emerged. Instead, he straightened, his right thumb and forefinger pressed together. Between these digits glinted a tiny shard of metal, hardly bigger than a sewing needle. He set in the palm of his other hand, holding it out for them all to see. ‘When word came in about what happened in Chicago, I was sent out to secure the scene. Going through the evidence gathered, I found this.’ He held the metal fragment out closer. ‘It’s a trank dart – with a serum specifically designed to take down Golems. Hargrove referred to it as the Pax Contingency—something not in the files, despite his claiming it was part of the Project. And if it worked the way it was supposed to, it would’ve put both of you’—he waved at Greg and Leah—‘in deep coma on the spot, instead of only slowing you down and then wearing off. I doubt the Pentagon would’ve thrown so much talent and money away on a failed ultimate muzzle for their ultimate soldier. All that – plus Hargrove’s man on the spot already up and about after a near-miss car crash, and who knows what other shit – led me to realise he was either grossly out of the loop on what we were chasing, or he had something else in the works, besides recovering the canister.’
He set the fragment on the table, near Hiroshi’s hand, and backed away. ‘I should’ve brought it in for Agency techs to evaluate, but the trail was already getting cold – and something about Hargrove being ahead of us in following it didn’t exactly fill my bosses with joy. So I saved it.’
The five members all glanced at each other. Greg felt his chest tighten in anticipation. If they had this, they could find a way to build up protection – and maybe another, crucial clue to why this Hargrove was after them. If it’s legit, he reminded himself.
Hiroshi was first to speak, again. ‘Interesting. Assuming it’s true, what was your purpose, in taking such evidence? And why hand it over now?’
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