by Wesley Chu
“So I’ve heard,” he replied dryly.
Dylan, a giant ugly mass of a man with half his face burned, chuckled. “I don’t remember your mother being so serious all the time, Sonya. Now that I think about it, with you and Tao’s new boy here, I suddenly feel like I’m too old for this. Maybe it’s time for a desk job.” The man was dressed in a pair of jeans and a brown bomber jacket. He slouched in his seat with a highball of liquor in his hand, which he had refilled liberally.
“It was time for a desk job the moment you finished your training.” Stephen grinned. “But we must be too old if we’re taking orders from someone we both used to baby-sit. I remember having to spank her once when she tried to lasso her dog.” The two men laughed uproariously.
Sonya blushed, looking chagrined. “Stephen, Dylan, you’re both my uncles and I love you, but I’m leading a team here.” She gave them both a look Roen was very familiar with. She was all business right now.
Dylan held up his hands. “I’m sorry, Sonya. It’s been years since we last saw you, and you’ve grown so much. Dania would be proud.”
“You’re right, though,” Stephen added. “Back to business. You’re in charge of this soirée. What’s the plan?”
Sonya quickly took control of the meeting, speaking in a more formal manner than usual. “The mission is threefold. First, we locate Gregory and bring him to a safe house. We know he’s in a hospital in Dublin, just not which one. Roen should be able to sign him out with the forged next-of-kin documents without any problems. We’ll evaluate the situation from there. An agent, Paula Kim, is assigned to assist Roen with the extraction. Since he’s never been out of the United States, she’ll help deal with the natives.”
“We’re going to Ireland, not Egypt.” Roen frowned. “It’s not like they’re speaking a foreign language. I hardly need a babysitter.”
Stephen grinned. “You’ve obviously never tried to talk to someone with a thick Irish accent. It might as well be Egyptian. Besides, have you ever driven a car with the steering wheel on the right side? We’ll be down one agent by car accident.”
“It’s just a precaution,” Sonya assured him. “Besides, nothing personal, but no one here trusts you to navigate Dublin by yourself. We’d rather not lose you to bad map reading. Just think of her as your tour guide.”
“Why do we have to bring him back to the safe house just to kill him?” Roen asked. “Why don’t we just do it at the hospital?”
Stephen shook his head. “We don’t do that to our own. As important as this mission is, our man’s getting full honors from us. None of us would expect anything less when it’s our time.”
Dylan and Sonya both agreed. They saw Gregory as a comrade first and a Prophus second. He felt ashamed of his words. He didn’t know the history that these people shared with the man that they were about to kill. This was as deeply personal for them as it was for Tao. As far as they were concerned, Roen was the stranger to their tightly knit family.
Roen was a little disappointed by the straightforwardness of the plan. He had imagined having to infiltrate the hospital under the cover of darkness, and then fight his way with the team up to Gregory’s room to whisk him away. Walking through the front door and signing him out was decidedly unglamorous. He might as well be visiting his grandmother at the retirement home. They weren’t even going to give him a gun. He had to insist on one before they relented.
Better than having to stake out a mailbox for sixteen hours. Even I wanted to poke out my eyes when we did that.
“You have eyes?”
Fine then. Poke your eyes out.
The flight attendant served dinner as they ran through the logistics of the mission and pored over the map of Dublin. One of the primary rules of engagement for both the Prophus and the Genjix, second to self-preservation, was remaining undetected in human society. It was one of the few agreements both factions strictly enforced. “Tell us about Yol’s new host?” Dylan asked.
Sonya pulled a file from an envelope and laid it over the map. She pointed at the picture of a young woman. “Lieutenant Paula Kim: background in electronic counter-espionage, risk assessment specialty, and decorated field agent for Her Majesty’s Secret Service. She’s been an operative of ours for years. European Command feels she’ll be ideal.”
“Are we expecting resistance of any sort?” Stephen asked.
Sonya shook her head. “There should be no Genjix whatsoever – a stroll in the park.”
Dylan picked up the files and browsed through them. “So Paula and Roen sign Gregory out, and the rest of us will just hang out at the pool until they get back? Sounds straightforward enough; best mission I’ve been on in years.”
“Well, you insisted on volunteering,” Sonya replied. “Command thought this should only be a three-person operation. You two are just support.”
Dylan’s jolly face became serious. “Look, Gregory and I go way back. I think a forcible transfer stinks as much as the next guy, but I owe it to him.” He brightened. “Besides, it’s an all-expense-paid vacation. With our budgets as tight as they are these days, I’ll take every perk I can get.”
“So I guess the only piece of the puzzle left is which hospital Gregory is in?” Stephen said. All three looked at Roen.
Roen blinked and shrugged. “I don’t know. Tao never told me.”
Sonya rolled her eyes. “Would you please coax that very important piece of information out of him? It is a rather crucial bit.”
“Well, Tao? You heard her.”
Premeditated murder on a loyal injured agent is unforgivable. There will be words with the Keeper when this is all done. Tell them these are my conditions. If Yol has to be released, it will be only by my hand. And if he is responsive at all, then the mission is off.
Roen gave Tao’s terms.
Sonya bristled. “No conditions for Gregory, Tao – this isn’t debatable. If there was any hope for him, he’d have come to years ago.”
“His call or the mission’s off,” Roen snapped. “Listen, I know how important this mission is to the Prophus, but think about what you’re asking. You want Tao to kill Edward’s brother. And the rest of you fought alongside him. If any part of him is still in there, we abort.”
Sonya began to give an angry response and stopped short. She glanced over at Dylan and Stephen. Both nodded slowly and looked away. “It’ll be Tao’s hand and his choice,” she relented.
Thanks for supporting me.
“Bah, Tao. What are hosts for? You get my back, I get yours, right?”
You are a good man, Roen.
“Besides, if you didn’t get your way, I’m sure I’ll be hearing about it until the day I die, which these days, could be at any moment.”
Quiet, you. The only way you can die on this mission is if you trip on the sidewalk and bang your head. Gregory is at Blackmoore War Hospital.
“Tao thanks you,” Roen said sincerely. “The mark is at the Blackmoore War Hospital.”
“Send a query to Intel to see if they can pull up a layout for us.” Sonya looked at Dylan.
“Tao knows the layout of the facility. He’s been there many times,” Roen added.
“I’ll pull it up anyway,” said Dylan, “every little bit helps.”
“Pass the information along to Paula as well,” Stephen added. “Now that we have that information, when are we going in?”
Sonya looked at her watch. “We land at 0400 local time. Paula and Roen will head out first thing in the morning after visitor hours start. I suggest you all get some sleep.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
PRELUDE
All had seemed lost. It was too dangerous to stay in Spain, for inquisitors were constantly searching for us. Our only hope was to try to survive the century and regroup. When we heard that Zoras, who was now a Grand Inquisitor, was leading an army to capture one of the last Prophus strongholds in Spain, we did the only thing we could do. Rianno and Francisco Cisneros led their small party of Prophus to a cove in the s
outhern coast of Andalusia; we went to where a ship waited to take us across the Mediterranean Sea to the land of the Moors. We were then betrayed.
Paula Kim met them at the airport and after quick introductions, drove them to their base of operations. They settled down at a safe house disguised as an old bed and breakfast in a quaint residential part of town.
Roen marveled at the resources that the Prophus had on hand to acquire such detailed information so quickly. They pulled up doctor rotations, delivery schedules, even the vacation days that were being taken by the staff. After the meeting, the group broke apart for final preparations. Everyone went about their downtime a bit differently.
Sonya was busy poring over the maps again with Paula. Stephen and Dylan were at a table playing cards and swapping stories. Roen sat in the corner away from the others, meticulously wiping down his FN Five-seven pistol and studying its every detail. This was the first mission that he actually felt the part of a spy instead of a glorified bodyguard. His initial excitement on the plane had long faded, replaced with doubts. The idea of what they were about to do left him with a bad taste in his mouth. He kept himself preoccupied by working on the gun.
An hour later, his gun was spotless, but Roen kept taking it apart, cleaning the parts, and putting it back together. Besides the gun, he was allowed to carry a knife in his boot and a few flash bangs. He felt almost silly walking into a hospital so heavily armed, but it was better to be prepared just in case. This was his life as a Prophus agent – possible danger at every corner, always looking over his shoulder. It was still a strange feeling, one that he couldn’t quite get used to.
Stephen came over and sat next to him. “If I polished my gun as much as you are right now, my wife would get jealous. Something on your mind, son?”
Roen shook his head. “No, sir. Well, to be honest, I have some doubts. It’s one thing to fight an enemy trying to kill me. It’s another to take out an innocent person, an ally no less, just to free his Quasing. Before I never had to question myself if what I’m doing is right. But now...”
“You can’t take deeds at face value, son,” Stephen said. “Sometimes, what seems evil may prove to do good down the road. It’s a brutal world we live in. It’s never black and white. You have to learn to see how pushing over one domino affects the rest of the puzzle.”
“I think no matter how you try to justify the good of this mission, it just feels wrong,” Roen said.
Stephen scratched his chin. “I don’t know about that, Roen. One of the agents we lost because of these safe house lockouts was a buddy of mine. Jack and I went back thirty years. Good man. I wouldn’t be standing here if it wasn’t for him on more than one occasion. I wasn’t there for him when he was caught out in the open in Austria; I’d like to think that I’m doing everything in my power to make up for it. Gregory and I go back a ways; he was my friend. I know he’d think the same thing.”
He paused. “I checked your files. This is your first high-level field mission?” Roen nodded. “And you have credit for a past kill?”
Roen shook his head. “Guy had two left feet and tripped off a building. I never actually shot anyone.”
“Not a bad thing,” Stephen said. “Just remember to respect the gun. Remember what it can do.”
Roen nodded. “I really don’t want to kill people.”
Stephen shook his head. “Sane men never do. That makes you human. Folks who have no regard for life are the ones you have to worry about. The day you find yourself not caring if someone lives or dies is the day you should hang up your spurs and quit this line of work. It means you’re losing your humanity, and that humanity is what the Prophus are fighting for.” Stephen stood up and patted him on the back. “Just remember, son, always look for a reason not to shoot. You remember that and you’ll be fine.”
Roen watched Stephen rejoin Dylan and continue their card game. Why would Stephen tell him to not shoot? Wasn’t that the reason they were here? To shoot and kill the enemy? The thought of killing someone made Roen nauseous. He just didn’t want taking someone’s life on his conscience. He didn’t know if he could live with himself.
“Tao, I don’t think I’m in the right line of work.”
Roen, what you are thinking is perfectly natural. In fact, I am glad you feel this way. A natural killer who shows no remorse is not the kind of host I want to have, and not one that the Prophus needs when life and death is on the line. Duty and responsibility are heavy things, and not something you should treat lightly. If it is not a burden to you, then you are in the wrong line of work.
Sonya came by later. She sat down next to him and grabbed his gun, putting it aside. “Hey you, how’s it going?” She put her hand in his and he felt the small calluses on her trigger finger.
“I was kind of hoping our first trip together would be to the Bahamas or Vegas. This wasn’t high on my list of vacation destinations.”
This is the part where I interrupt. You have other things to worry about than flirting with your commander.
She chuckled. “Baji warned me about Tao and his hosts. You need to focus on the mission.”
“Warned you?” he mused. “I’m hardly a danger to anyone.”
“You underestimate yourself, Roen Tan,” she murmured. “It’s late. You should get some sleep.”
“Aye, aye, ma’am.” He saluted.
She waved him off. “Military protocol sounds silly coming from you for some reason. Just remember; we’re not in the gym anymore.” She put her hands on his shoulder and leaned over. “You leave in four hours.”
Sleep did not come easily that night. Restless with anticipation, Roen spent the quiet hours tossing around in bed. He envied the two older men sharing a room with him as they slept, seemingly oblivious to their surroundings. It figured that the only time he actually needed to sleep, he couldn’t.
Relax. You are as jumpy as a kid on prom night.
“I never went to prom.”
You know what I mean. Settle down a bit. Take a deep breath.
“How do they sleep so well?”
Experience, many years of it. One day, you will be like them too.
“If I live that long.”
Hush, sunshine.
Roen sat up in his cot and started counting seconds of the clock. His lack of sleep just exacerbated his mood. Not a good way to start his budding career as a real spy.
He lay back down and stared at the ceiling, his mind wandering randomly. Would his parents understand? Would his dad be proud? Would they get some kind of severance if he died? Kathy seemed to be getting something. Should he give some to Jill? If something happened to him, would she think he just blew her off?
What about Antonio? After all, he does pay half the rent. What about his cat? Roen had heard about people who put their pets in their will. Maybe he should have a will drawn up. Maybe he should become an organ donor, but who would want organs riddled with bullet holes?
Roen.
“Yes, Tao?”
Go to sleep.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
GREGORY
There, in a quiet cove on an icy winter day – with a ship anchored just off the shore – Francisco Cisneros betrayed us and slew Rianno, declaring himself a Genjix. Just as I had committed the ultimate betrayal of my hosts, my friend and brother Chiyva had done the same to me. Grieving for a lost host and friend, I fled into the forest and was fortunate to find a deer. For the next few decades, I plotted my revenge.
Roen struggled against fatigue the next morning. What passed for coffee at the safe house didn’t help, and the food stored there was the kind that belonged in nuclear bomb shelters. How this place passed for a bed and breakfast was beyond him.
The one thing that was well stocked here was their selection of teas. He had always thought the British obsession with tea was a stereotype in campy movies. Not so. The sheer combination of tea blends and mixtures and condiments required a series of alchemical decisions that would have befuddled his chemistry profess
or. When he finally settled on drinking his tea plain, Paula shook her head in amusement, muttering something about primitive Americans under her breath.
Roen and Paula left for the hospital right after breakfast. The car ride was quiet; hardly a word was spoken between them. He spent the time looking out the window and studying his guide. Paula was a somber looking woman in her early thirties with a slender but muscular build. She had a handsome face with sharp Asian features, and the look of someone who was always in control. Roen didn’t want to admit it, but he was totally intimidated by her. She approached her assignment chaperoning him as seriously as if she was about to assassinate the pope.
The car rumbled down the cobbled street with a low growl as the engine struggled to navigate the hilly incline near the outskirts of town. Blackmoore War Hospital was a long-term care facility that treated all sorts of illnesses ranging from cancer to leprosy.
The Prophus as well as the Genjix had long used facilities like these all over the world to house their people. Schizophrenia and other mental illnesses were common among their hosts. According to their research, two per cent of documented schizophrenic patients were hosts overburdened by the strain of their Quasing.
Roen realized that no matter what type of fieldwork he did, there was lots of waiting. After an hour-long car ride through morning traffic, they reached the hospital only to wait another thirty minutes before the dour-faced woman at the front desk called his name. There, they were escorted to the psychiatric ward holding room by a bored orderly, where they waited another twenty minutes before a young nurse in pink scrubs finally took them to Gregory’s room.
“Is this it?” Paula asked as they moved to the room labeled 3005.
Roen nodded. He moved his hand to the handle and slowly turned it. However, something stopped him from opening it. He froze, a wave of intense dread sweeping over him. Roen stood there immobile for several seconds. “I don’t know if I can do this.”
I am not sure if I can either.
