“What is it that you want?” she asked, ice in her voice.
“Bait to dangle in front of my prey. I thought you’d be pleased to see Matthew Cole die for yourself.”
Was Abigail near enough to come to her assistance? Would her dearest even come considering their last parting?
“Should I die today,” she said, slowly and evenly, “a file will be published to incriminate my many enemies. Among which you’re numbered. I don’t hire scoundrels without insurance. I have long and detailed proof of your history with a certain Abrogationist. Every colonial government in the solar system will put a price on your head so high that you won’t be able to wake up in the morning without a bounty hunter knocking on your door.”
He shrugged, wholly unaffected by her threat. “I’ve been in need of a career change. Call the Shield Maiden.”
“If she comes, it will be of her own accord. We’ve had a falling out of late.” She reached to the neck of her dress and pulled at the silver chain, tugging the heavy metal cube out to lay on her chest. She fingered it idly and smiled. “I have not reached my current status without learning a few morsels of wisdom. One such truth is to never play another’s game,” she said. “And if you must, add your own rules.”
Stein drew his weapon and aimed it at her face. “Hands at your side, old woman.”
“You need bait. If you kill me now, you have nothing.” If Stein thought Cole would come to her aid with the Shield Maiden, it meant they were near at hand. Abigail would come back to her, just as she always knew she would. And if the priest ended up being a useful tool in the end, well, she could admit to being wrong just this once. It wouldn’t stop her from disposing of him eventually, but even the lowest animal can have a use. She raised the cube again.
His fingers tightened around the pistol. “I need backup!” he shouted.
“I don’t like the odds you’ve presented me with. It would take a miracle to rebalance them in my favor.” A cruel smile tugged at her lips. “Thankfully, that’s just what I have.”
His eyes registered shock and he dropped the gun and dove for her, but it was too late. She pressed one side of the cube and heard a click. Lines of light ran along its outer edges as—
ABIGAIL WAS OUT OF sorts when it came to helping Matthew. He’d been worried enough when the Sparrow was merely off the grid. But knowing his crew and mother were in the hands of his greatest enemy, conveniently with Whitaker of all people, had made him sullen. It was like suddenly being face to face with Matthew as she’d first known him. The man with quiet secrets and a past he never talked about.
Another woman, one with perhaps more developed emotional skills, might know how to peel back the layers and comfort him. She hadn’t had any practice in the nurturing department. She could crush enemies with her bare, suited hands, but offering encouraging words that actually landed home was like trying to walk with her useless legs. She’d never felt so inadequate.
And she hated it.
For the time, they’d crashed out in Milena’s nest, the same one Abigail had visited months ago. The surveillance specialist was the only thing giving them a fighting chance at finding Stein, and the only reason they’d nearly closed the noose on him last night. It had been so very close, but his men were good, and unlike most of their enemies, worked together as a single unit, using tactics to their advantage. Stein had a few less men than he’d started the evening with, but he’d made it away.
Matthew paced the length of the living area. Annoying as it was, she didn’t dare ask him to stop. “Hey,” she said. “It’ll be okay.”
He paused and very nearly glared at her for a moment before his fists unclenched, and he kept pacing. “We’re out of time. Davey will be here in a few hours.”
She raised an eyebrow in question. “I would have thought you were more interested in saving the others. Saving your mom.”
“I am but we can’t ignore Stein. He might know what Logan’s planning and the intel could make all the difference. If we’re ready for him when the Sparrow arrives, we’ll have a better chance at saving them.”
“I get that, but it’s going to be okay,” she said, mostly because she didn’t know what else to say. Which made her feel like she was babbling, something else she hated.
From across the room, Milena called from her little fortress of surveillance equipment. “I’m on Stein. I’ve never had a target shake me yet, and I don’t intend for it to start now.”
“You can’t take Stein on your own,” Abigail chided.
“Please. I know my business. In fact...” She trailed off as her comm chirped. “Hello? Hold on, slow down, Natalya. Are you safe? Is the... Okay. Yes, I’ve got access to the cameras at her manor. Who do you think set them up?” Abigail glanced at Matthew briefly. He’d stopped pacing and was watching Milena with curiosity. “Inside cameras are down,” Milena confirmed. “I’ve still got a view of the street. Yeah, I see them. Two outside at the front door.”
Abigail cleared her throat. “Is there something you need to tell us?”
Milena waved her off. “Forty-one minutes. Understood. I’m sending you Abigail. I’ll be in touch.” She closed the comm. “Mistress Medvedev is under attack.”
Abigail frowned. “I’m not sure she’s going to be happy to see me.”
“We can go check it out,” Matthew said. “We have a few hours, and you wouldn’t want to leave your old broker out to hang.”
Milena shook her head and smirked. “You might if you knew the things she said about you.”
“Be that as it may...” he said.
She cut him off. “You’ve got a better reason than the goodness of your priestly heart. Look at this.”
He and Abigail crossed the room to look over her shoulder. She recognized the front of Mistress Medvedev’s manor. There were two armed men who obviously weren’t supposed to be there. Matthew recognized them first. “We saw them last night. With Stein.”
“Why would Stein attack Medvedev?” Abigail asked, suddenly feeling ice in her stomach.
“I don’t know, but you have less than forty minutes to get there,” Milena said.
“And then what?”
“I have no idea, but Natalya was very strict about the timetable. The Mistress seems to have had an ace up her sleeve to draw things out. I’ll be on the cameras and provide support, though you’ll be on your own when you’re inside.”
Matthew cocked his head. “Let’s go.”
To say that Abigail was conflicted when they loaded into Milena’s van was an understatement. Over the months, she’d come to reevaluate her relationship with Medvedev. While she was certainly grateful that the woman had given her a chance and helped her find her career, she was more and more sure that it had always been for her own sake. There was something needy about the Mistress, something grasping, like a spider. Maybe webs were easier to see at a distance.
“Unless we’re just going on a cruise,” he said as he fired up the engine, “I’m going to need directions.”
From her position in the back, she tried to lean forward so she could see between the front two seats out the windshield. “Take the next right and then keep going until you hit the big roundabout with a terrifying number of lanes.”
“Sounds fun,” he said, his tone implying the opposite. “Call Thompson and have him meet us there.”
After Thompson was updated and plans made to meet them around the block from the manor, she told Matthew everything she knew about Medvedev, the house, and its layout. Admittedly they were going in pretty much blind, outside of the limited intel Milena would be able to provide. There was no telling how many enemies there were, or just how Medvedev was buying time.
“Back entrances?” he asked.
“Probably, but I’m not familiar with them. Even when she first took me in, I tried not to spend much time there. The mistress has an absolutely charming personality. Get over a lane. You need to take this right. And if you get the joy of meeting Mistress Medvedev, you’ll kno
w exactly what I mean.”
“Is it true she’s a misandrist?” She sighed and opened her mouth to answer, but he kept going. “There were rumors. Not saying I believe them or anything, just saying they were out there.”
“Matthew. You’re not offending me. Maybe she has something against men, I don’t know. Milena told me there were stories that she killed an ex-lover years ago. But even if that isn’t true, she does have something against you. Just a warning.”
He grunted. They were nearing the destination. She directed him down a few more roads, noting the roundabout with the statue of Mussorgsky that stood as a landmark. They’d be there none too soon, with only ten minutes on the bizarre timetable that Natalya had given them. Matthew pulled the van over, and she climbed out the back. This was their last chance to catch Stein before they had rendezvous with Davey.
The last chance to catch one mad man before the more dangerous one arrived.
“THERE YOU ARE,” THOMPSON said, slipping out of a side alley. “After how insistent Sharon was on the schedule, I’d have thought you would have been more punctual.”
Matthew only grunted as he did a quick check on his revolver and the ammunition stores hidden in the vest beneath his poncho. His hands moved on their own after having done this hundreds of times. “You’re welcome to storm the manor by yourself if you’re up for it.”
“Very funny. I’ll watch your back, but I’m not meant for the front line.”
Plus, you have a family to make it home to, Matthew thought to himself. “Abigail, do you have Milena on comm?”
She nodded. “She’s talking to Natalya, who’s hiding nearby. We have seven minutes.”
“Until what?” Thompson asked.
“She doesn’t know. Something special with the security system, maybe.” She hefted her shield off her back and deployed it. “Let’s get moving.” They moved down the sidewalk in a staggered formation, Abigail in the front, with Matthew a few paces behind and to the side. Thompson was further back, hand nervously perched near his holster. Matthew hoped the man wouldn’t have to use it. “Milena says there are still two armed men at the door,” Abigail said stopping just short of the corner.
“They’ll see us quickly then,” Matthew said.
“It’s not far from here,” she said. “I’m going to charge them. Get ready.” He gave her a nod, and she breached the corner, breaking into her thunderous gait. Matthew followed, revolver drawn. It took his roving eyes a precious second to lock onto the two men further down the sidewalk. One drew his weapon and opened fire on Abigail, the second did the more prudent thing and retreated into the building. She reached the foolish one in seconds and sent him flying into the residence across the street and then turned and faced the door, shield at the ready.
“Here’s where it gets nasty,” Matthew said.
“Expect targets on the upper floor,” Abigail said. “The pillars will give you cover.” She turned to Thompson. “Maybe wait out here and make sure no one follows us in.”
“Don’t have to ask me twice,” he shrugged. “Take him down.”
With another nod, she charged, smashing the hardwood door with her shield, ripping it from its hinges and sending it flying into the manor. Matthew followed hot on her tail, using her for cover as his eyes struggled to adjust to the dim light. The gunfire started less than a second later, pinging harmlessly off the shield.
“Moving left,” she hissed.
He moved with her until she reached the row of thick support pillars holding up the second floor. He took cover behind the first and then waited a moment as gunfire continued to track her. She was homing in on a poor soul bunkered out near the bottom staircase while keeping her shield angled to block fire from above. With a swift movement, Matthew leaned out from cover to return fire to the upper floor.
The answer was immediate and the barrage of bullets had him back into cover as showers of plaster rained around him. He’d seen three targets. He quickly used a speedloader and then stepped out on the other side of the pillar and dropped one before they could draw a bead on his new position. Then he was back into cover to dodge the return fire. As they learned last night, these weren’t your average goons. They were fast at acquiring targets and almost as fast at firing on them.
“Abigail, some help, please!”
She ran across the foyer and jumped, grabbing the upper floor and crashing through the rail. Stein’s men scattered, wisely unwilling to go toe to toe with the Shield Maiden. Matthew used the opportunity to drop another while the last one beat a hasty retreat out a nearby window. “Come on!” she shouted, pointing at a hall on the second floor. He ran for the broad set of stairs in the middle of the room and then flinched when he heard a gunshot behind him.
“You should watch your back,” Thompson said from the door, nudging the body of the man he’d shot. “Turns out, they had three outside.”
“I appreciate the save,” Matthew said, giving a quick salute.
“Return me the favor and bring me Stein.”
“Matthew,” Abigail said suddenly from the top of the flight. “You need to come see this.”
He caught the uncertainty in her voice and took the rest of the stairs two at a time. When it opened onto the upper floor, he stepped past Abigail to look down the hall she guarded, stopping abruptly.
What was he even looking at?
Partway down the corridor, there was a faintly shimmering wall of distortion. Beyond were two more of Stein’s commandos, apparently frozen in place just turning to enter an open door at the end of the hall. It was as if someone had stopped time completely inside a bubble, or rather, since that was physically impossible, dilated it to an infinitesimally slow pace.
“What are the odds that Medvedev is in that room?” he asked quietly.
“That’s her office. Matthew, what’s... how is that possible?”
He approached the shimmering barrier, mindful not to get too close. He had a strong feeling that subjecting his body to two different time scales as he crossed into the field would lead to a nearly instant, grisly death. “I was hoping you’d be able to tell me. This has to be one of the miracles. And if I had to guess, based on what I’m looking at and reading Josiah Carver’s writings, this is the Song of Brahma.”
Abigail shook her head. “That’s news to me. Let me check with Milena, see if she knows anything about this.”
“I don’t think there’s time. I would guess our deadline has to do with this field expiring.”
“And the clock is almost up,” she said. “Can you shoot them?”
“Probably not. Best case scenario, I could prime bullets to hit them. As soon as a bullet passes the barrier, it’ll slow to a stop. More likely, I bet it will be destroyed on the gradient between the two.” He drew his revolver and emptied it, alternating between the two. On impact, each bullet seemed to dissolve into a spray of molten dust that froze a mere inch into the affected area. He calmly reloaded his gun. “Not surprising at all. In fact, I suspect that’s how Grace’s bracelets intercept incoming fire.”
“Localized reference frame differentials,” Abigail said. “This is way above my pay grade.”
“That’s why they call them miracles.” He grabbed his comm. “Milena, what’s our timer looking like?”
“One to two minutes,” came the crisp reply. “Best guess, owing that Natalya was also guessing.”
“Thank you.” He turned to Abigail. “Looks like we have to wait patiently then. Get ready.”
Barely forty seconds later, there was an audible pop, and the barrier disappeared. The entire manor groaned, and Matthew realized that the field had probably sliced through the structure of the building, doing massive damage.
The bullets harmlessly fell to the ground in molten spray, and the two men, already in motion before time had been altered on them, continued into the room before Matthew could react. Abigail lowered her shield and charged, and he followed in her wake, knowing he was about to come face to face with the man that
had put a bullet through his chest.
IT WOULD TAKE A MIRACLE to rebalance them in my favor.” Medvedev said, smiling in spite of the danger. “Thankfully, that’s just what I have.”
Stein’s eyes registered shock and he dropped the gun and dove for her, but it was too late. She pressed one side of the cube and heard a click. Lines of light ran along its outer edges as—
—there was a brief moment of disorientation, not unlike during a frameshift, and a loud popping noise. The house groaned and shifted beneath them as Stein reached her, kicking aside her cane and twisting her arm behind her back. She started to cry out in pain, but then bit it off, refusing to show weakness in front of such a degenerate creature. Then he pressed a cold knife to her throat, and she stilled. Two of his men ran into the room.
And then her lost daughter Abigail charged in with the force of a thousand war hammers, and she smiled. Even if she didn’t make it out of this, she would die with the satisfaction of knowing that Abigail had come home and that she would destroy Stein for his transgressions. She grimaced as the priest appeared behind Abigail. But then she had no more time to drown in her hatred for the man because the knife pressed harder into her throat. Abigail and the priest slid to a stop as she felt a sticky drop of blood trickle down her neck.
“That’s right,” Stein said. “One more step and the witch dies. Stand right there. Cole, drop the weapon unless you want this horrible old hag’s death on your conscience.”
Tatiyana stilled her breathing. No, there was no escape for her. Perhaps leaving the priest with a burden of guilt would be the best ending. A brief struggle would end her life. But no, she wouldn’t do that to poor Abigail. Not if she could help it.
After Moses: Wormwood Page 41
