Stay of Execution

by Glynn Stewart

  Clearly, no one had told her that he was being dragged out to Nevada and dumped in Reno. While that probably meant that no one had worked out they had a relationship, which was a good thing, it also meant she was obviously worried sick.

  He dashed off a quick email to her, summarizing what Kay had told him and letting her know his new number and where he was staying.

  Reno wasn’t high on his list of tourist destinations, but given his lack of anywhere he actually wanted to be, it worked as well as anywhere else. It said everything about his lack of life outside the Omicron branch that Kate’s emails were the only ones of any importance.

  There was one email from Ix, which was just two words: “I’m okay.”

  That was reassuring in itself, though the demon hadn’t included more information. David would reach out once he had a better idea of just what he was going to be doing. Right now…well, right now, he was half-expecting that be more dependent on Kate than himself.

  He wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself.

  Sighing and running out of excuses, he turned to the news sites to see just what Kay had been warning him about.

  It was…ugly.

  The British and European secret paranormal agencies had been dragged kicking and screaming into the light, powerful political factions using transparency as levers to bring down governments across that continent.

  At least Omicron’s European counterparts were surviving. The governments they served were having rougher months, but the supernatural affairs in Europe were in steady hands.

  Canada’s Ministry of the Paranormal had delicately stuck their head into the House of Commons, announced that they existed, had Canada’s situation well under control, and were perfectly prepared to answer any questions Parliament had…but could they please just get back to work?

  Most of the world, though, was still trying to keep various degrees of secrecy—aided by the fact that only Eastern Canada and the United States were seeing major spikes in supernatural activity.

  The news was currently playing live footage of a Joint Task Force Hercules team arresting a werewolf in downtown Toronto. Canada being Canada, the Ministry spokesperson was carefully noting that the werewolf was likely freshly turned and had been more confused than aggressive—still dangerous, but not really culpable for her actions.

  The reports from David’s own country were less…calm. A swarm of demons had erupted in a Philadelphia suburb, the first major test of the use of the Special Operations Command as a counter-supernatural force.

  Watching the footage on CNN’s site, David could pick out which SOCOM troopers were Seraphim, but the handful of augmented troops weren’t enough to keep it from turning into a bloody massacre. The news was estimating two hundred civilian and at least half again that in military casualties before the situation had been resolved.

  Reading between the lines, SOCOM had managed to contain the situation, and someone else—either the Familias or the Elfin who’d been working with ONSET—had snuck in and sealed the portal sourcing it.

  People were dying. David needed to do something…but he no longer worked for the US government, and it had been made clear his services were no longer needed or desired.

  He didn’t have it in him to stand aside. Fortunately, he knew where to find others of the same mindset.

  18

  Like Las Vegas, Reno’s populace made much of their money from gambling, and casinos lined the main street. David wandered down the street for about half an hour before he finally saw what he was looking for: a specific combination of symbols in the signage of one of the casinos.

  Entering the gaudily lit and decorated building, he scanned the space until he spotted one of the waitresses wearing a silver oak leaf at her throat.

  “Excuse me, miss,” he murmured to her. “Would you be able to direct me to the Rivendell room?”

  The waitress—a dark-haired woman slightly taller than him—jumped at his words, then turned an assessing gaze on him. Or, perhaps more accurately, an assessing Sight. His own Sight didn’t show her as a Mage or even a particularly strongly Empowered.

  But, like him, she was a Seer. He wondered what visions she’d seen of the months to come as the world went to hell.

  “Of course, sir,” she replied after a moment’s study. “This way, please.”

  She led him to a section of the casino with a gorgeous mural of a forest scene painted along the wall. Stepping up to where a path cut through the forest scene, she rapped smartly on the mural, and a concealed door popped open.

  “I need to circulate the floor,” she told him, “but Morgan will be waiting for you.”

  He hadn’t even seen her send a message, but she’d obviously done so. He was impressed, and he gave her a grateful nod as he stepped through the door into the private portion of the casino reserved for members of the Elfin.

  A somewhat older version of the girl outside, clad in a simple white dress and presumably a sister from the resemblance, approached him immediately.

  “Commander White, welcome to Rivendell, Reno,” she greeted him. “I am Morgan Andrews. How may I help you?”

  “Not Commander anymore, Ms. Andrews,” David told her. “Surely, the Elfin know of the fate of ONSET by now?”

  Andrews shrugged, one of the shoulder straps of her dress sliding off in a fashion he suspected was supposed to be distracting.

  “We know,” she admitted. “We have received our warnings from the ‘transition team.’ But you, Commander White, are owed the respect of your rank and accomplishments, regardless of the vagaries of our government.

  “Given that knowledge, how may I assist you?” she repeated.

  “The only contact information I had for Lord Riley was on my work phone,” David told her. “I need to speak with him if possible.”

  “Of course,” Andrews agreed instantly.

  Lord Jamie Riley had been instrumental in the agreement that had seen the Elfin Warriors deputized by ONSET—not least because Lord Riley commanded the Elfin’s supernatural paramilitaries.

  As much as anyone did, anyway.

  “I don’t have direct contact information for him,” she noted apologetically. “I will need to go through channels. It may take some time, so may I invite you to enjoy the amenities? You still have a tab open with the Rivendells under Lord Riley.”

  “I’ll take you up on that,” David told her. To his surprise, he was almost fully recovered from the silver-laced tranquilizer he’d been hit with, but he was astonishingly hungry, even for him.

  “And I’d appreciate it if you could put me in contact with local resources,” he continued. “All of my weapons were the property of the US government, and, well, at this point, I feel naked without a silver-loaded gun.”

  Andrews chuckled and gestured toward the back of the lounge.

  “Speak to Karls over there,” she told him. “He’ll be able to hook you up. I’ll find you as soon as I’ve made contact with Riley.”

  Milos Karls was even more helpful than David had hoped, revealing a semi-concealed closet in the back of the Rivendell, Reno lounge containing a small but effective stockpile of firearms and the steel-jacketed silver-tip rounds the Elfin manufactured for their own use.

  “What do you mean, ‘no charge’?” David found himself demanding after Karls had pulled out a case with an M1911 and a box of two hundred silver-tips. “The bullets alone have got to be five to ten bucks a pop, at least.”

  “And we both know you’re good for it,” Karls agreed cheerfully. “But we also both know Riley is good for it for you—and I had friends in Central Park last week.”

  The Elfin gunsmith shook his head.

  “The news can say what it wants about the guys they’ve made the public face of Task Force White being the ones on the ground, but we know better,” he concluded. “A gun and a box of bullets is nothing. Take them in good health.”

  “Thanks,” David said, realizing he wasn’t going to win the argument. Another waitress
appeared with a plate of food and a beer, setting a place for him to eat. The lounge clearly knew what a regenerator’s appetite looked like, the plate containing one of the largest burgers he’d ever seen, and the fries taking up entire second plate.

  Karls gave him a nod and turned back to his book as David dug into his food.

  He’d polished off most of it when Andrews joined him at the table, carrying a laptop. He pushed the plate out of the way as she set the computer up and handed him a set of noise-canceling headphones.

  Waiting on the screen were the familiar sharp features of Elfin Lord Jamie Riley, looking exhausted.

  “White,” he greeted David. “With this whole mess, I have to admit I’m damned glad to see you’re okay. Even if your former employers are giving me a giant headache.”

  “I got hit with a silver-laced tranquilizer,” David replied dryly. “I’ll trade you headaches.”

  Riley barked a short laugh.

  “Fair enough. What’s your situation? How did you end up in Reno, of all places?”

  “I suspect someone threw a dart at the map. SOCOM was kind of pissed at me.”

  He didn’t clarify why. Riley was a friend, but if he didn’t know about the Beowulf Protocol mess, it wasn’t David’s place to brief him.

  “No one has told me why, but I got that impression, yeah,” Riley agreed. “Burying Omicron makes no damned sense.”

  “It makes political sense,” David admitted unwillingly. “The British government did just collapse over the revelation of MI-Nought.”

  “I can see what they’re thinking,” the Elfin Lord admitted himself. “It’s not what I would do, but it’s not like anyone asked my opinion before they decided that poor half-briefed Army kids were the best solution to demon crises.”

  “I’m guessing you’re playing underground backstop?” David asked.

  “In cooperation with the Familias, of all people,” Riley confirmed instantly. “So far, I think we’ve managed to keep things from boiling over, but I’m not getting briefings and intelligence updates from Omicron anymore.

  “I don’t know what we’re missing.”

  He sighed.

  “How can I help you, David?” he asked.

  “I was wondering if you could use one slightly-used supernatural team leader, to be honest,” David told him. “I could use a job and, well, a purpose in life. Long-term, I need to sit down with Kate and sort things out, but… I can’t stand by while the whole country goes to hell.”

  “I’ll admit I was hoping you’d say that,” Riley admitted. “I’m putting together an…Omega team. A last-chance strike force with the power and numbers to go toe-to-toe with the worst and the political weight to make the government let it happen.

  “I want you for it. But you’ll forgive me if I want the people I know you can get ahold of for it, too.”

  David chuckled and nodded.

  “Who are you thinking? O’Brien and Kate, I’m assuming?”

  “Kate made my finding ‘what the hell Sigma Force had done with you’ a condition of coming aboard,” Riley told him with a smile. “If you’ve got some way of getting in touch with the Brigadier, though, I’d owe you.

  “Bigger, though…” he sighed. “Charles St. Patrick was a freaking dragon?”

  David paused.

  “I thought you knew,” he finally said. “You were Omicron once.”

  “I was an OSPI Inspector,” Riley pointed out. “And working with Charles of late, I just thought he was an Empowered hacker. Not a dragon.”

  “He’s a dragon,” David confirmed. “You want me to talk to him?”

  “If you can. Pretty sure I can find him, but the last thing I want is to go talk to a twitchy dragon without someone he calls friend.”

  “I’m not sure I can find him,” the ex-ONSET man pointed out.

  “Oh, you know how,” Riley said dryly. “You’re what, forty minutes from Lake Tahoe there?”

  David laughed.

  “Last time I talked to her, she wanted a lot of money,” he pointed out. The spirit of Lake Tahoe had somehow remained on Earth despite the Seal and had found various ways to gather and sell information in the twenty-first century.

  “She” was terrifyingly smart and powerful but was also trying to peacefully buy out most of the shore and land around the lake and make it a giant private reserve. Her prices for information were high.

  “She likes you,” the Elfin Lord pointed out. “And she’ll know I’m good for it. I’m tied up near Washington right now or I’d go myself—and besides, you’re the man we need to send to talk to Charles himself.”

  “I’ll do it,” David replied. “Consider me on the team, Lord Riley. So long as we’re on the right side.”

  “I’ve a pretty good idea of what happens when you think you’re on the wrong side, David,” Riley confirmed. “We’re going to hold this country together. One way or another.”

  19

  David parked his rental car on the edge of the beach, ten miles or so away from the nearest town and at the end of a long gravel road leading off one of the scenic routes around Lake Tahoe. Ignoring the signs declaring private conservation area–keep out, he walked over the gravelly beach to the side of the mountain lake, shivering in the chill air.

  This had once been a millionaire’s private retreat, and he could still see the gap in the trees where a luxury cottage had been carefully removed after the property had been bought by one of the innumerable numbered companies that traced their ownership back to the Tahoe Oracle’s identities.

  The road hadn’t been maintained in years, and the drive down had made him glad he’d sprung for full insurance on the rental. He was certain he’d added at least a dozen new chips and scratches getting there.

  It was amazingly quiet. Birds chirped softly in the trees, water lapped at the gravel, and he took a cross-legged seat by the edge of the water. There hadn’t been much calm in his life of late, and if there was one thing this place was, it was calm.

  He waited. There was no point shouting or demanding or saying anything at all. She knew he was here and she knew who he was. Either she would come to him, or she wouldn’t.

  And he would wait until she did. It was good to just relax.

  David wasn’t surprised, however, that he didn’t have to wait very long. After about fifteen minutes, a current formed in the lake, independent of any wind. It approached the shore and lifted up to take a human form.

  As the shape approached, she took on more detail and became less transparent, until the wave deposited a naked curvy brunette on the shore, looking softly down at him.

  This form wasn’t an exact duplicate of the two constructs he’d dealt with before, but there was a solid familial resemblance to both of the women he’d met before.

  “Commander David White,” the naked woman greeted him. “There are protocols for reaching me, you know.”

  “Not a Commander anymore,” he pointed out. He knew she knew, but it was important nonetheless. “And the situation seemed…urgent.”

  She chuckled.

  “Your government is far from the first to be foolish,” she replied. “They will see their need for you before this is over.”

  “I’d almost rather they didn’t,” he admitted. “That would mean we were safe.”

  “You’re not safe, David White,” the Oracle told him flatly. “Your country is not safe. Your world is not safe.”

  “From wha…” David trailed off. “I don’t think I can afford the answers to the questions I want to ask.”

  “The Seal is weakening. The Masters have a plan,” she explained. “You are hours, days at most, from the culmination of the plan they set into motion with Ekhmez. Not everything has proceeded as they desired…but the Herald will be born.”

  Free answers from the Oracle were terrifying. The last time he’d asked a question, the answer had cost millions.

  “I miss my siblings,” she continued when he waited in silence. “But they are not who they
were. The Pure as I knew them are dead, David White. I am the last.”

  He hadn’t thought about it that way. He wasn’t sure how the spirit of Lake Tahoe had remained on this side of the Seal, but she was unique in doing so. The other Pure like her had been trapped beyond the Seal with the angry gods they now called the Masters Beyond.

  “I’m sorry,” he murmured.

  The naked woman cocked her head quizzically at him, then smiled.

  “You are, aren’t you?” she said softly. “You are a fascinating man, David White. I know what answers you seek. Can you pay for them?”

  “I speak as the agent of Elfin Lord Jamie Riley,” David explained. “He said you would know he was good for it.”

  “I did not ask if Riley could pay for my answers,” the Oracle told him. “I do not work on account or on credit, David White. My price is of you, not of him.”

  He shivered.

  “I have nothing,” he admitted. “Not as you price answers, anyway.”

  She laughed.

  “You can afford my price, David White. If you’ll take the risk.”

  “What would you have of me?” he asked.

  “Silver still runs in your veins,” she warned him. “You are weakened. What you are will fail at the turning point.

  “You must become more.” She held out a hand. “That is my price, David White. That you trust me beyond all reason, beyond all hope of men.

  “Do so, and I will tell you where to find the dragon Charles. I will tell you what the Herald is and how to defeat it.

  “But to defeat the Herald, you must become what you were meant to be.”

  “And what is that?” he asked.

  “I cannot explain. I can only show.”

  Her hand hung in the air. It didn’t tremble, a small reminder that the woman in front of him was not human.

  “And if I ‘fail at the turning point’?” he asked.

  “Humanity will die. They will not be mourned. They will not be remembered. The Pure will take this world and remake it in the shape of their broken memories, until they destroy themselves.