by Mel Odom
“I’m much better at a distance,” she said during one of their rest sessions. “Give me a rifle and you wouldn’t stand a chance.”
Simon grinned at her and wiped the back of his neck with a towel. “That depends on whether or not you saw me coming.”
“I’d see you,” Leah told him. “A big, heavy-footed oaf like you would be easy to spot.”
“‘An oaf,’ is it?”
“You heard me.”
“When we get back on the mat,” Simon promised, “we’ll see who’s the oaf.”
Leah toweled off for a moment. It felt good to concentrate on just the physical exertion for a while. When she sparred with Simon, she had no room in her mind for any thoughts other than survival and getting as many shots in on him as she could.
Now, however, she couldn’t help but think about the assignment she’d been tasked to do. She hated that it was going to interrupt and potentially spoil the friendship that they’d shared.
“Have you been in contact with the other Templar?” she asked.
Simon looked at her. Pain and wariness showed in his eyes. He hung his towel around his neck and kept hold of it with both fists.
“No,” he answered. “Not since you and the others rescued me.”
Leah tried to go carefully. “As you know, I’m with an organization myself.”
“I do. Military or spook in origin, I should assume.”
Leah didn’t answer, not knowing what to say. Trying to deny it wouldn’t endear her to Simon, who was usually painfully point-blank honest, and unable to admit it because all of her training had been geared toward her not telling anything about the service. She decided to go with honesty even though she was uncomfortable with that.
“Yes,” she said.
TWENTY-NINE
I didn’t expect you’d admit that,” Simon said.
“If I didn’t, one of us would have been the fool. I can’t tell you any more about it.” Leah regretted that, but she had her own promises to keep.
“I’m fine with that,” Simon said. “You and your mysterious benefactors have been helpful to us in the past. As long as what you know about us doesn’t harm us, we’re willing to exchange information.”
“The people I work for,” Leah said softly and slowly, “would like to be more helpful.”
Simon crossed his arms and drew himself up to his full, imposing height. “How helpful?”
“Your situation here isn’t good, Simon,” Leah stated blatantly. “The demons are hunting you out this far, and you’re facing a supply shortage.”
“Yes.”
“The Templar Underground, from what we know of them and their stockpiles—”
“And you’re the one that brought your people most of that information,” Simon said.
“I did.” Leah refused to feel guilty about the subterfuge she’d used to get into the Templar Underground. “As I was saying, from what we know of them, they have enough food and medicine to take care of your people here.”
“They’re not willing to take on extra mouths. I tried that already.”
“Maybe you can’t change them,” Leah said. “But maybe you can change who’s leading them.”
His eyes flashed and he looked at her more squarely. “I’m not going to challenge anyone for the leadership of the Templar, Leah,” he stated softly. “So whoever’s putting those ideas into your head is wasting his or her time. And yours.”
“Not challenge anyone there,” Leah said. “Simply…let the Templar know that you want back in.”
“I don’t.”
“They would let you come back.”
Simon hesitated. “How would you know that?”
“Because this is what we do.”
He shook his head. “If you ask me, that’s a nasty business to get into.”
That stung a little. Leah chose not to be defensive. Her job contained bad elements. “Perhaps. But what we do has its uses. Secrets save lives.”
“They also claim them,” Simon said.
“We have people around the Templar,” Leah said. “No one within the Underground, mind you, but a few on the periphery of their operations.”
“They don’t have any operations outside the Underground.”
“No, but they do—upon occasion—venture forth to save someone or just to explore how badly things have gone.” Leah smiled at him crookedly. “And we have a few friends among the Templar Underground. Some of the Templar used to be in my line of work.”
“I can see that. But they would still have definite lines of allegiance.”
“Really?” Leah stared into his eyes, knowing her next statement was risky. “Like the allegiance you had toward the Templar, Simon?”
Simon folded his arms. For a moment she thought he was going to walk away.
“I’m different,” he said brusquely. “I broke with Templar ways a long time ago.”
“Really? Is that why you’re here, then, risking your life to save others?”
Simon hesitated. “My father would have wanted—”
“You’re not here because of your father, Simon. You don’t risk the things you do because of him. You’re here because Lord Thomas Cross raised a fine son and guided him in the ways of being a Templar.”
“I’m not that good.”
“The other Templar here aren’t following you because they want to help you with your guilt over your father, Simon.”
Angry spots of color blossomed on his face.
Leah knew she’d come perilously close to hurting him or offending him. “They believe in what you’re doing. That’s why they came out of the Underground to risk their lives with you. You’re doing everything they believe they should be doing.” She paused. “They believe in you.”
“That’s a lot of responsibility.”
“Then give it away.”
“I’ve offered.”
“And no one’s accepted.”
Simon was quiet for a moment. “No.”
Leah remained silent for a time to let his answer sink into his mind. “Not only do you bring fugitives here, Simon, but more Templar join you as well. This operation you’ve set into play grows larger than you expected, and you’re not able to hand off the survivors like you believed you would.”
“I know.”
Leah took a deep breath. “One of the people I work with has the ear of Jessica Sumerisle.”
“She’s just a child.”
“And the heir to the leadership of the Templar. Not only that, but this is no time for children. I saw you training children to fight and kill earlier this evening.”
Simon’s voice took on an edge. “I taught them to survive.”
“Yes, and part of that involves fighting and killing. Otherwise they’re going to die without hope, afraid, and alone.”
Simon didn’t argue.
“Just as those children are no longer children because this world can’t allow them their childhood, Jessica Sumerisle has grown up as well. She doesn’t have the power she will one day have because her uncle runs things at the moment, but she does have some power. She has enough to bring you back into the Templar.”
“There’s a reason I left them. I don’t want to have to fight their mind-set again. I can’t wage a war with two fronts.”
“I know. But more and more of them are drawn to your view of things. They know people still survive in London. Fewer and fewer each day, but there are survivors.”
“What about the people you work with?” Simon asked. “Do they believe in saving those survivors as well?”
“We’re not set up as the Templar are,” Leah said. “We don’t have the resources, manpower, or space to handle search-and-rescue operations. But we believe in what you’re trying to do.”
“Sounds like another way of shifting responsibility, if you ask me.”
Leah couldn’t keep all her anger from her voice then. “No. It’s recognition of fact. You don’t realize how far my organization has come just to make the o
ffer to use what influence it has to help you and these people here. We weren’t organized to save lives, Simon. We were organized to take the lives of our enemies. We’ve been doing that. Now, they know they’re not going to be able to get rid of the demons on their own. That’s been a very humbling experience, trust me.”
“It has been for all of us.” Simon looked away for a moment as if thinking something over. Then he met her gaze again. “There’s something else I’m working on, though. Something that may offer more respite than trying to crowd all of these people into the Templar Underground.”
Interest surged in Leah, and she knew what he had to be referring to. “You found something in the Goetia manuscript, didn’t you?”
“Yes.”
“What?”
Simon shook his head. “I can’t discuss it too much at this point.”
Angry frustration sloshed inside Leah. He didn’t trust her. That much was evident. She pulled in a deep breath and let it out.
You can’t blame him, she thought. You wouldn’t trust you, either.
“I wish you luck with it,” Leah said.
“If it works,” he said, “we’ll all benefit in the end.”
If any other person told Leah that, she would have felt certain she was being patronized. But this was Simon Cross, and she knew him well enough to know that he wouldn’t lie to her or tell her something just because he thought that’s what she wanted to hear.
“And if I decide I want to talk to the Templar again,” he said, “I’ll let you know.”
She forced a smile she didn’t feel, because she wasn’t as truthful by nature as he was, and said, “Care for a rematch?”
Simon tossed the towel aside. “Sure.”
Leah wasn’t restricted to the redoubt in any way. Simon gave her the full run of the complex, except for secure areas. She exercised and did the rehab treatment to get her eye/hand coordination back, exceeding the surgeon’s expectations.
She still stared in the mirror in the mornings and tried to tell the difference between the eyes and couldn’t. In a way, that was frustrating because she felt she ought to be able to tell an artificial construct from her own flesh and blood. Even more interesting, she couldn’t remember the ragged hole she’d seen in her face a few days after her first surgery.
Old habits wouldn’t die, though, and her curiosity about whatever Simon had learned from the Goetia manuscript chafed her. She knew his habits inside the redoubt. When he broke them and left, he even politely told her that he’d be gone for a few days and welcomed her to stay as long as she liked.
After he’d gone, she pulled her armor on, then some winter clothes on over that, broke her rifle down so she could lash it to her back under the winter coat, and filched a few supplies from the cafeteria. When Simon had a half-hour start, she set out in pursuit.
“Wait.”
When she heard the woman’s voice directed at her, Leah thought her intended subterfuge had been seen through. She calmed herself and turned around.
The woman was one of the Templar. Fiery-haired and full-figured, looking like an Olympic athlete in her armor, the woman stood half a head taller than Leah. Part of that height difference was the boots, but not much.
“We haven’t gotten to speak,” the woman said.
“I’ve seen you,” Leah said. “In the dojo.”
“My name is Kyra.”
“Pleased to meet you, Kyra.” Leah shoved her hand out. “I’m—”
“I know who you are.”
At the unfriendly tone, Leah drew her hand back. She waited.
“No one here blames you for coming to Simon to have your eye repaired,” Kyra said.
“Actually,” Leah said, “I hadn’t been aware that was something that could be done.”
“They worry because you seem to know more about the Templar than you should.”
Leah folded her arms. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“No one here trusts you.”
“Simon does.” Even as she said that, though, Leah felt guilty, since she planned to go spy on him. That wasn’t very trustworthy behavior on her part.
“Simon is an innocent to a large degree,” Kyra snapped. “Someone like you—”
“Like me?”
“A woman.”
“Ah.” Leah nodded. She understood a little more then. Jealousy was attached to the woman’s words. It was a tribal response. Leah represented an outsider female threatening to cut one of the males from the group.
“For all that Simon is,” Kyra said, “he can be played a fool by someone like you.”
“I suppose I should feel flattered,” Leah replied coldly. “But somehow I don’t. You could be suggesting that I’m overly attractive, or that Simon is dense. Frankly, I don’t think he’d be flattered, either.”
“This isn’t flattery. I’m suggesting that maybe when you leave this time—soon—that you shouldn’t come back here.”
While Leah tried to figure out how to respond to that, Kyra turned and walked away. Beyond her, three other Templar—all women—lounged in the hallway and made it apparent they supported Kyra. Feeling angry and disrespected, Leah almost headed into the middle of them just for spite. Even three on one, and them in Templar armor, Leah thought she might make a good stand.
It’s not worth it, she told herself. You don’t need the drama. But she didn’t like being told what to do. She never had. Without a word, she turned and headed for the door.
THIRTY
B it of baiting the bull, don’t you think?”
Simon glanced over at Nathan and barely saw him against the stone wall of the underground tube. They were near Charing Cross, away from the Templar Underground. In addition to that, one of the Templar redoubt scavenging crews had reported a group of survivors had settled into the area. If they could recover those people and guide them to safety, they were going to do that.
“If there was another way to do it, we would,” Simon replied. He slammed his armored palm down on the steel stake he held in his other hand. Metal struck metal with the sound of an explosion. Sparks spat out from the contact. The stake drove down into the ground several inches.
Nathan leaned down and attached the laser projector Macomber and Brewer had built in the lab. It was slightly smaller than Simon’s armored fist, built with lenses and wiring that Simon didn’t quite understand even after repeated explanations. The composite blue polymer was teardrop-shaped and high-impact resistant. Nathan cupped the device for a moment.
“I’m ready to bring Number Three online, mate,” Nathan said.
“Go ahead,” Quincy Hartsell replied. “We’re ready.” The Templar knelt nearby at a control box that had come with the projectors. The control box was about the size of a slim briefcase but was crowded with electronics.
Nathan fired an electric current through his armor that activated the field projector. Two amber lights winked to life, one after the other, then turned green.
“We’re go here,” Nathan said.
“And go here,” Quincy said.
“Four is set,” Danielle called from across the tunnel.
“Bringing Four online.” Quincy tapped on the keyboard. “Reading Four. Now I’m going to initiate the recognition sequence.”
While he stood there, Simon cycled through the button cams they’d strung along the tube. The armor AI was set to warn him of the approach of anyone not scanned into the Templar security, but maintaining constant visual watch over the area was old habit.
Debris filled the dark tube. The last passenger trains had traveled the tracks over four years ago when the Hellgate opened. Wrecked train cars piled like child’s toys less than a mile from their present position. Judging from all the skeletons in the cars, few must have survived the wrecks back then.
A low-pitched hum filled the tunnel. Gradually, it grew louder and more piercing. Simon’s suit dampened the audio, then the noise went away. The green lights on the projectors grew brighter.
“P
hasing harmonics,” Quincy announced.
A few seconds later, purple-tinted haze spread across the distance between the poles they’d set up. Then it cleared and gradually disappeared altogether.
“Is it working?” Nathan asked.
“Step into it, mate,” Quincy suggested. “If it zaps you, I’ll know I’ve got it calibrated wrong.”
“I don’t think so.”
From the other side of the tunnel, Danielle walked into the cube of light. Her armor sparkled just for a moment, but nothing happened after that.
“Well, we know that it won’t harm humans,” she said. The nervousness in her voice was barely detectable.
“Doesn’t mean it’s unfriendly to demons,” Nathan said.
“There’s only one way to discover that.” Simon pounded the stake again and knocked it into the ground so far that none of it projected. The stake was built thick at the piercing end, then thin at the rear of the shaft so the projector was protected by the profile. He reached into the nearby duffel bag and brought out a canister of foamcrete.
When he sprayed the contents into the hole and they interacted with the air, a dirty gray silicon plug formed and filled the hole. After a moment, when the camouflage particles sparked into life to change the gray-white color, it was almost indistinguishable from the original floor. He tossed the can to Danielle, and she did the same thing to the stake she’d knocked into the ground.
Once all four stakes were properly buried, Simon said, “Recalibrate the field again. Make sure we didn’t tear anything up.”
Quincy went through the process again. The purple cube came to life once more, then faded. Again Danielle stepped through the field and into the cube without a problem.
“I have to admit, mate,” Nathan said quietly, “it doesn’t give me much confidence watching her walk through it so easily. Could be the demons will walk through it just like it was a warm spring rain.”
“There’s only one way to find out.” Simon reached over his shoulder and took out his sword and shield. He turned and started down the long tube tunnel.
After Simon and the others had gone, Leah eased out of the shadows of the tube station’s waiting area. Finding the Templar hadn’t been hard. Almost no humans headed into London these days, and the tracks left by the armored suits had been simple to follow. The hardest part was to follow without being seen.
