“We don't have any other choice,” Skye said. “If we want to save Echo, we need to find Night.”
“No!” Tango roared, kicking over one of the chairs. “It's far too risky.”
“That's enough!” Ren shouted back, not impressed by the juvenile display. “What do you propose we do, Tango? Night has control of Echo, so that's your only option.”
“And how do you know that?” Tango asked, making his way over to Ren. “None of us have ever killed Night, so how do we know that it will bring Echo back? What if killing Night also kills Echo?”
She closed her eyes and sighed. “You're right,” she replied impatiently, “we don't know what will happen. But killing him is the only option we have. Night isn't about to suddenly relinquish control of him just because we asked politely. Now, stop acting like a child—we have far more important things to attend to.”
“Forget about the president!” he shrieked. “Echo's our friend.”
“Stop kidding yourself! We both know that he's as good as dead,” she snapped. She regretted saying the words as soon as they left her mouth, but nor could she deny the truth.
Tango exploded upon hearing the remark. He lunged forward at Ren, but was stopped by her strong grip. She grabbed hold of his arm and flung him over her shoulder. He landed hard on the ground.
Romeo gasped, surprised to watch Ren in combat. He had only ever seen her working at the computer, and was unaware she possessed such strength.
Skye looked down and saw his delighted eyes, knowing exactly what he was thinking. “She can handle herself,” he said, although was a little concerned that she could forget about Echo's well-being so easily.
“Calm yourself,” Ren ordered as she helped Tango up off the ground. “The president's our main priority, and you know that. If you want to help Echo, first help us find the president. Wherever he is, Night won't be far away.”
Tango dusted himself off. “And how do you intend for us to find the president?” His mood was still one of anger.
Skye looked to Ren, hopeful for further information, but knew they had all but exhausted their resources.
“I'll keep looking,” Ren suggested, her voice lacking confidence. “I'll look for his villa.”
“There's no point,” Skye said, defeated. “The president's with Nikolai now. After what happened in the bunker, he won't be letting him out of his sight.”
The group stared at one another, waiting for someone to suggest a viable option for completing the mission successfully.
Skye was the first to speak again. “I think the only option at this stage is to storm the inauguration.”
“That was Nikolai's suggestion,” Sierra mentioned.
“I know, but we don't have any other choice right now.”
Tango shot a sceptical glance at him. “So your recommendation is that we break into the convention centre and attempt to assassinate the president in front of thousands of people?”
Skye rolled his eyes at the sarcastic question. “What other choice do we have?”
“You're mad if you think that's an option,” he scoffed. “First of all, it's a public venue, so Night probably won't even be there. Second, we'll be completely outnumbered by the police and the Guard, and possibly even the military. And third, even if we somehow managed to kill the president, this is going to be televised all around the world. If we then manage to escape, we would become the most wanted people on the planet!” He stormed off after finishing his tirade.
“It's not the best idea we've ever had, Skye,” Ren said, her hands on her hips. “But I can't think of a better one at the moment.”
“You can not be serious!” Romeo was astonished. “Are you actually considering launching an attack during the inauguration?”
“I'm not going with you,” Juliet said. “I'm staying here this time.”
“Of course you're going,” Ren said with a frown. “We need your ability to find the others.”
Juliet was dumbfounded by the order. She'd never heard Ren speak to her with such low regard. The look on her face aptly displayed the bitter feeling of betrayal she felt deep within. She said nothing, and walked hastily away from the conversation before it continued.
“I'll keep searching for the time being,” Ren said to Skye. It was evident that the short deliberations were not favourable. She strode back across to her desk.
Skye turned around and looked at Sierra, who had hardly offered a single suggestion. “And what do you think? What should we do?” He was curious to hear what she had to offer, but already knew what she'd propose.
“We should go to the inauguration. Tahlia will certainly be there. I'm fast enough to kill her and your president without being seen.”
Skye nodded, agreeing with her. She was right in that she might just be able to move about freely. Her speed was uncanny.
“It will be a challenge,” he said, “but it's also our final option. If you can kill the president for us, that would be ...” In this moment, he was grateful to have her on the team. The pair's relationship had been tense at times, but Skye was desperate to rid the world of Archibald Denning.
“Thank me when it's over,” she said when Skye didn't finish his sentence. “Remember, Tahlia's my priority, but we need to put a stop to corruption. And if Archie's as corrupt as you say, I'll do whatever I can to help.” She turned and left the room.
Romeo sat alone at the table, his head buried in his hands. Skye walked past him and joined Ren by her computer. “Did you mean what you said?” he asked in a hushed tone.
“About Echo being as good as dead?” She stopped typing and gave Skye her attention. “I don't want to feel that way, but I'm not going to give myself false hope either. If Night has him, I honestly can't see him surviving much longer.”
“Neither can I.” Skye stroked his beard. Every muscle in his body was tense; the fatigue and stress was almost unbearable. “I want him back, but ...”
He and Ren looked into the other's eyes, both thinking the same thing.
“I want to save him too,” Ren said. “But above all else, I want Archie dead. Do whatever you can to kill Night and save Echo, but please put a stop to the president first.”
Skye cringed. The situation was an impossible one. If he found Archie first, it might mean that Night would kill Echo in return. But if they were to find Night first, Archie and Nikolai would be all but guaranteed to leave the inauguration unhindered.
Skye didn't know what to do.
Either way, they lose.
Thirty-nine
Archibald Denning sat on the porch steps at the front of the villa, staring up at the few stars he could make out. He'd been hoping for the past year that he wouldn't regret allowing Nikolai to fund his political campaign, but there was now no doubt in his mind that this would be his second regret in life; the first being the role he played in Paul's manipulation of the Athenians.
He turned and looked up at Sabina and Aurelius, who stood over him. He'd spent more hours than he could count in their presence. It was clear that Nikolai didn't trust him, which is why he was always in the company of the ominous duo, or alone in the once-impregnable underground bunker.
He turned and faced forward again, looking at the nine members of the Presidential Guard. It brought him some comfort to know that they were nearby. Nikolai was far too reckless with his welfare, so he much preferred to be in the vicinity of the men and women who had sworn to protect his life. Unbeknownst to him, they watched on with rigid, lifeless eyes.
The front door opened, and Guard One roughly stumbled outside and into the open air of the large compound.
Archibald's face lit up. “One! I'm so relieved to see you.” He wouldn't dare condemn the man for not fulfilling his duty of protection, as he knew there was no one who could possibly keep him safe from Nikolai.
“How are you, Your Excellency?” One uttered.
“Not well. Not well at all.” He glared at Sabina and Aurelius, briefly pondering the idea of sounding th
e alarm. There were only two of Black Dawn present, and ten members of the Guard. Would my soldiers be able to subdue the pair quickly enough and then take me back to Government House? Or would it just be a massacre that would inevitably result in Nikolai tearing me limb from limb? He decided against it, at least for the meantime.
“Oh, you're bleeding,” Archibald observed, suddenly noticing the stream of blood pouring from One's abdomen. He could only faintly see the blood against the black armour. “I also saw blood back inside. When were you involved in combat?” he asked, concerned that there had been an altercation with Black Dawn while he was sequestered in his steel prison. He noticed the blood on the carpet and walls a short time ago, but didn't bother asking about it since Black Dawn made no mention of it. Furthermore, he was too nervous to pry, not wishing to enrage Nikolai for speaking out of line.
“There were intruders earlier,” One responded with Night's typical grin. “But it was nothing that we couldn't handle.”
Archie frowned, surprised to hear of the news. No one in the general population knew of their location, and he wondered who would possibly have tried to infiltrate. The only explanation he thought of was that it was White Shadow, whom Nikolai had warned him about on what seemed like an hourly basis.
“I don't know what I'm doing,” Archie admitted, changing the subject. “I don't know if I'm fit to run Athenia.” It was a heartbreaking acceptance, but he feared for the sake of the island nation and its people. Nikolai was resolute on exercising tighter control over the public after the inauguration, and had discussed multiple strategies with the new president, none of which he himself agreed with.
“I'm certain you'll be a fine leader,” One responded. “You're in good company, and have the best team of advisors accessible.”
Archie scoffed at the remark, but appreciated the intention. “Thank you. Perhaps you're right.” He had known Guard One for quite some time, as he had been the head guard for the previous four leaders.
Archie looked around and noticed that everyone was staring at him, all with blank expressions on their faces. He thought nothing of it, however, as he knew the guards were trained to suppress emotions and merely serve their sole purpose.
“Perhaps it's not safe for me out here,” he said aloud, wondering if White Shadow would launch another attack. “Maybe I should go inside and rest. Tomorrow's going to be a big day, after all.”
He looked about at the group surrounding him, but none of them bothered to agree with him; they simply stared on. He nodded to Guard One, bidding him goodnight, and began to head back inside with Sabina and Aurelius inches behind.
As Archibald walked, he looked up and caught a glimpse of a lone corpse standing on the balcony, watching over him. A disgusted shiver ran down his spine.
Forty
Skye sat at the table, absent-mindedly staring at the wall. He was plagued with many thoughts, none of which he knew the answer to. He had never imagined the situation would become so grave.
“You're still awake?” Romeo asked, emerging from his small bedroom. The warehouse was now only dimly lit. The remainder of White Shadow had retired for the evening, opting to squeeze in some much needed rest before the hectic morning ahead. Ren was the last to leave after unsuccessfully spending over an hour trying to find Nikolai's mystery villa, or any other information that would be helpful.
“I can't sleep,” Skye said, barely noticing the young man enter the room.
“I know how you feel,” Romeo said, sitting across from his mentor.
Skye's bloodshot eyes looked up at him. “I doubt that,” he jested, his muscles trembling with exhaustion. “How are you coping with it all?”
Romeo shrugged, not knowing what to say.
“You've done really well,” Skye complimented. “You're very strong to take everything in.” He knew Romeo had come close to death several times, and was pleased to see that he was slowly adjusting.
“I just ... I just feel numb right now. I don't know what to make of this. It's been the worst two days of my life.”
Skye laughed quietly. “You can say that again. You've been exposed to a world you didn't know existed.”
Romeo let out a long, exhausted breath. “I don't think I'll be able to get much sleep tonight.”
“Neither do I. We haven't had a day like this in months.”
Skye stood up and walked over to the refrigerator, removing two bottles of Athenia's most popular ale. He handed one to Romeo, who took it without question.
“It might help calm you down a little,” Skye said, trying to lend his assistance. Unlike others, the Athenian drinking culture was not usually based on a means of suppressing stress, but rather one of celebration and building camaraderie. Nevertheless, if it meant making adaptation easier for the youngster, Skye was happy to justify the offering.
Romeo twisted the cap off and pressed his lips to the bottle, drinking the cold beer. He let out a satisfied moan as the refreshing drink quenched his thirst.
Skye was pleased that the young man was making an effort to relax himself. “Nikolai and I would often go to a bar after work and discuss the many mysteries of life. We were so close back then,” he said, remembering countless fond memories, which were now tainted by the convoluted rift in their friendship.
“It's hard to believe you used to be friends.”
“Like brothers, we were. We had such a passion for life back then. We were ready to take on the world.”
“What happened?” Romeo asked curiously.
Skye kept his gaze on the table. “People change. Life changes.”
“You're not wrong there,” he said, hinting at his strange experience with White Shadow, and how his life was turned upside down in such a short time.
After a moment of silence, Skye let out a long, deep sigh. “It's bad, Romeo. The situation's bad.”
Romeo nodded, needing no reminder that the day ahead was sure to end well for no one. “Do you think you have a chance at stopping the president?” he asked, attempting to help sort out Skye's thoughts.
“Maybe. But there's more to it than that.”
Romeo sat quietly, waiting for him to continue, but the words never came. “Tell me,” he urged.
Skye's weary eyes darted about the warehouse, looking into the dark recesses of their steel base. “Everyone has lost their minds,” he finally said. “I don't know what's right anymore.”
The young man shook his head at the remark. “How can you say that? You're the nicest person here, Skye. You know exactly what you're doing.”
“No,” he dismissed, “I don't. None of us do. I can barely keep myself sane at the moment. Ren's so obsessed with finding the president that I'm scared she'd happily sacrifice any of you; Tango only cares about finding Echo and avenging Foxtrot; Sierra's tormented by Tahlia. I meant what I said last night ... White Shadow is dead.”
“But I thought you were all getting along after last night.”
Skye took a sip from his bottle. “We were. Although it didn't last very long. The situation has gotten worse, and everyone seems more stressed than ever.”
The pessimistic affirmation took Romeo aback. The only knowledge he had of White Shadow was what he'd been told so far. From his outside perspective, the group seemed rather functional. “But what about you, Skye? You're doing what you believe is right.”
Skye let out a distressed groan. “And so is Black Dawn, and so is the Tianzu. Besides, it doesn't make a difference what I do. Every move I make is ultimately dictated by Nikolai. We're playing a game that he has planned from the very beginning. He has already beaten us.”
“Then end it,” Romeo suggested. “Find a way to stop Nikolai and make everything right.”
Skye looked at his junior and offered a weak smile. He appreciated the bid to inspire him, but it was a wasted tactic. “Sorry, Romeo. I know you mean well, but optimism alone isn't going to save us.”
Romeo smiled back, deciding that perhaps the conversation was beyond his level of per
ception. He rose and walked back toward the dormitory, eager to attempt sleep for a second time. “Skye,” he softly called back before he left the room, “don't give up.”
Skye was left alone in silence. Despite Romeo's encouragement, he already knew that he would never give up—although not necessarily out of sheer determination to destroy Black Dawn and the Tianzu, but rather because he was unwilling to stop playing the endless game with Nikolai. The pair had conversed on countless occasions, and in great length, about what they were to do with their gift of eternity. Both knew that, with such power, they would never be able to bring themselves to return to the supposed conventional lifestyle the citizens of the world lived.
On many occasions Skye had spent hours on the roof of the warehouse, gazing up at the celestial heavens above, pondering about his life and how he was to spend it. Too many times had he witnessed others squander their time and potential. Too many had reached the end of their lives, only to face the terrifying truth that they had hardly lived for a single moment. The fear of death was completely overshadowed by the prospect of disappearing into nothingness; dissolving into ambiguity.
Skye and Nikolai knew all too well of living such a life. Unlike the others who had been courageous enough to take the leap forward in their evolution, Skye and Nikolai had taken one further. Every second of their existence was consumed with meaning and significance, free from a tyrannous realm of trivial obligations and frivolous endeavours.
Each and every day he saw passion in the eyes of his comrades, all of them driven by revenge, all of them pursuing their respective assailants. But to what avail, he would ask himself. All of them traversed such hollow paths; not a single one of them could comprehend the limitless potential that accompanied their eternal endowments.
Skye knew that such a day would come when he would be forced to confront his most dangerous demon—a question that had lain dormant for so long.
Are my actions determined by what is right, or by what I am afraid of?
Eternity's War (Books 1-3) (Eternity's War Boxsets) Page 35
