Rescue Mission

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Rescue Mission Page 7

by Linda Jordan


  There would be no space for Roosevelt’s map. Wasn’t this a working meeting? He’d certainly assumed it was.

  Morrigu sat in an overstuffed chair, one leg draped over the arm of the chair and eating a bunch of grapes. She looked very relaxed.

  Damon sat in a nearby chair. He looked anything but relaxed. Where was Santoni? Had the sorcerer been fired? No. Morrigu didn’t fire people, Roosevelt had said. Had he been dispatched? He was a pathetic excuse for a sorcerer. But Damon had no magic she could sense.

  Or did he have magic and was simply very good at hiding it? If so, why had Morrigu had Santoni there last time? Decoy? This was the part of her work she disliked the most. Trying to get a grounding in a client’s normal life. And it appeared meetings with Morrigu were normal for Roosevelt.

  Evangeline had only been with Roosevelt for two weeks. Barely gotten an understanding of who his own people were. Now, there were all of Morrigu’s people to figure out. Evangeline felt completely out of her element here. She understood the environment in Florida where she’d grown up and Texas where she’d moved to, with her first boss, Mavis. Who died last month, of old age.

  Roosevelt had caught Evangeline, unemployed and at loose ends, when he came to Mavis’ funeral. So Evangeline had agreed to work for him. But this part of the world was unlike any place she’d ever been. The people so strange. She was used to the racial tensions of her previous posts. This felt like a military camp, but as far as she could see, the racial tensions were nonexistent. Either that or they were so far underground, Evangeline couldn’t see them.

  The mix here was mostly White, Hispanic, Black and Indian. With a few Asians: Chinese, Japanese, Vietnamese, and others she couldn’t identify just by their names or their features. Possibly a mixture. There was very little pure blood of any racial strain these days. But she found it difficult to believe that race was unimportant here. Perhaps Roosevelt had screened people for bigotry. She’d have to ask him.

  Morrigu called for another table for Roosevelt’s map, which was brought in by a tall, muscular woman, who then left. So, it was going to be just the four of them.

  “Sit down, please,” said Roosevelt to her.

  Evangeline opened her mouth to protest, then shut it again. He wouldn’t have asked her to sit, unless it was important.

  “I want you to see this map. To understand what we’re up against,” said Roosevelt. “It will be important in the future.”

  Evangeline sat in the chair next to him.

  Morrigu said, “I think this is how we should proceed. I’ve sent Jeffries to find a job with Taylor’s. He’ll gather information and send it back to me. Then we’ll decide how best to lure my enemies in and trap them. That’s where I’ll need your help. While Jeffries is gathering information, we should work on the problem with your competition. You have a map, that suggests a plan.”

  “I do,” said Roosevelt. “I’ve talked with Young Roosevelt. We decided the wisest path is to attack my strongest competitor first. Rather than pick off the weaker ones first, giving the stronger one time to prepare for war.”

  “I agree,” said Morrigu. “What do you need from me?”

  “Collins’ operation is bounded on three sides by my other rivals. To approach from those sides, we’d have to knock one of those out first. So our choices are to attack from the water, which is the fourth side, or from the air. The water side is probably heavily armed. I think we need an air attack. That will also let us remain invisible until we choose to reveal ourselves.”

  “Oh, I like that,” said Morrigu, shifting in her chair, putting both feet on the ground.

  Evangeline looked at Damon. His expression was unreadable. The man really bothered her. Too inscrutable. She liked to understand the people in the room.

  “What do you think?” Roosevelt asked Evangeline.

  “I have no idea,” she said. “Warfare isn’t my strong point.”

  “Damon?” asked Roosevelt.

  “Do you have planes? Our shipping planes aren’t exactly made for carrying bombs. And they certainly aren’t armed with any type of gun.”

  “No, we would have to retool them,” said Roosevelt.

  “And what about your need for men?” asked Morrigu.

  “I will need more. To mop up on the ground and to rein in my three other rivals,” said Roosevelt. “I just don’t have enough of an army.”

  “We can help,” said Morrigu.

  “Thank you,” said Roosevelt, looking down and quite humble.

  Interesting. Why the humble act?

  Evangeline straightened in her chair, loosening up her muscles. More from habit than a need to stay alert. She didn’t expect trouble. Didn’t sense it either.

  “What role will Evangeline be playing in this?” asked Morrigu.

  “I’m not sure,” said Roosevelt. “What can you do?”

  Evangeline was taken aback. She’d never been part of a war. Her specialty was social functions. She was just a bodyguard, not a warrior.

  Then it occurred to her.

  “I could disguise the aircraft. For a time. I’m assuming your enemy has guns that could shoot them down. I think I would have to be on board one of them. To get close enough.”

  “Excellent,” said Roosevelt.

  “Will you be bringing the army in by aircraft or boats?” asked Morrigu.

  “We don’t control enough boats. That would get really messy. But to bring them in by aircraft would mean we’d need to capture a landing strip. Collins has one. But that complicates things,” said Roosevelt, frowning.

  “I have a few boats,” said Morrigu. “I don’t use them too often.”

  “You could bring in men with both planes and boats,” said Damon. “That would strengthen your attack. We’d need to shield the boats from view. That might be difficult. I’m assuming their harbor is heavily armed.”

  “I’ll have one of my pilots do a flight tomorrow. Just to nail down what we’re up against. To make sure nothing’s changed since the last time we looked,” said Roosevelt.

  “How long before the planes can be retooled?” asked Morrigu. She poured some of the hot coffee for herself. Leaving the others to serve themselves. Evangeline could smell the coffee and longed for some. But that would be too much. Sitting was distraction enough. She’d have coffee later. When she was alone.

  “It will take two weeks to get everything in place. I need more weapons,” said Roosevelt. “Will you be replacing your sorcerer?”

  Morrigu frowned and said, “Good sorcerers are so hard to come by. I am searching. I can shield the boats from view.”

  Damon looked horrified.

  “Don’t say it,” said Morrigu to Damon. “I’m perfectly capable and I’ll stay far offshore in a small, fast boat. Where no one can reach me.”

  Damon’s face didn’t change much, but Evangeline could tell he wasn’t going to push it. Smart man. He knew when to be quiet. Still, if she’d been in his place, Evangeline would have been having kittens. Being a bodyguard was sometimes so frustrating when your employer persisted in putting themselves in danger.

  Then again, Morrigu was a goddess. Could she even be killed? Evangeline didn’t have any experience with trying to kill a goddess, and they all seemed to be so different concerning their strengths and powers.

  Roosevelt poured himself a cup of coffee and took one of the scones. Damon did nothing. Just sat there. Alert for danger. Just like her. It was nice to know your competitor was a professional. If she ever had to fight him, it would be a real contest. Despite his age. Evangeline hoped it would never come to that.

  “So, we’re good to go in two weeks then,” said Morrigu. “I’ll send my Captain over to talk with yours. So the armies can train together.”

  “Good,” said Roosevelt. “This is going to be fun.” He licked his fingers from the pastry and rubbed his hands together like a little kid.

  Evangeline swallowed. Her mouth felt dry, she was thirsty.

  This was not going to be fun.<
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  7

  Cady

  Cady sat outside in the spring sun. It wasn’t completely warm, but she was working hard and only wore a long sleeved t-shirt, pants and her boots.

  Someone had found a sturdy little metal wagon, made for a child. They’d fixed the rusted-out wheels, replaced them with new ones. She could sit on the wagon; her injured leg straight and resting, the other leg bent to wheel herself around the garden. Pulling weeds. She stretched down and pulled out a dandelion by the roots. She saved the dandelion roots for Sharine, who made medicine out of them. The greens Cady would use in a salad.

  Her second crop of salad greens was coming up and being attacked by slugs. She needed to refill the beer traps, which were full of dead slugs and snails. Half a mind told her to borrow some of Joe’s chickens. But they’d just tear up her greens with all their scratching. Or eat them.

  It had been a week since she’d been shot. Her thigh still hurt far too much. At least it wasn’t infected. She tried to rest her injury, but it was so hard to sit still when there was so much work to be done.

  Gia came by every day, in her capacity as librarian. Bringing more books, trying to find one that would capture Cady enough she’d be content to sit in bed and read. So far it wasn’t working.

  Cady tried to push the wagon forward with her good leg. The wheels were stuck in a rut. Her blue shirt stuck to her skin, wet with sweat. On the third try, she got the wheels free and the wagon moved forward. Her muscles ached. She was getting old. And there was no safety net for her. Not without a family or friends. Why hadn’t she thought to make friends? Now she could only hope for the kindness of people she barely knew.

  Monster came out of the bushes and rubbed up against the bent leg. Her good leg. Then he leapt up onto her lap, purring madly.

  “Why are you so affectionate all of a sudden? Worried I’m going to up and die on you? Silly cat.”

  Cady petted him and he lay down on her thighs. The big black cat had barely left her side since she’d returned. Maybe he was worried. Maybe it was because she was sitting or lying down most of the time. When she was up on the crutches he’d learned to stay away though. She was clumsy with them still. Hadn’t realized how much upper body strength she’d lost over the years of soft living.

  There was someone coming down the path. Limping.

  As they came closer, Cady saw the bruised face and recognized Sam. So he was up and around. Good. Beth was due any second now. She’d need him to take care of the others.

  “Cady?” he asked.

  “Yes, hi Sam.”

  Monster looked at Sam, decided he wasn’t a threat and closed his eyes, putting his head down and dozing, still on her lap.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be still in bed resting?” he asked.

  “Probably, but I can’t do that. It’s driving me crazy.”

  He laughed, a surprisingly musical laugh. “Guess I can’t either. I wanted to thank you for your part in comin’ to get me.”

  “You’re welcome. I’m glad to be able to do something to give back to the village.”

  “I can understand that. Sorry about your leg.”

  “It’s not the worst that has ever happened to me,” said Cady, laughing.

  “If there’s anything I can do to help. …” he said.

  “Looks like you’re barely standing yourself. And you’re going to have your hands full shortly, if they’re not already.”

  “Oh, they are. Beth’s taken the little ones ever since I got back and Sarah kicked me out of the house for the morning. Says she just needs to be alone. It’s like this time she’s even crazier than the last three.” He grinned.

  “Raging hormones, I expect. Which means she’ll need you more than ever,” said Cady.

  “I know. But you clearly need some help. I wouldn’t want you to lose your crops.”

  “So far, I’m doing okay. And the leg’s healing. It’s just a lot slower when you’re old.”

  “How old are you?” he asked, grinning.

  “Fifty, I think.”

  “Fifty. That’s not old. Joe’s sixty-five. Now that’s old.”

  She laughed.

  “Today, I feel eighty,” she said.

  “I hear you. But you’re not to worry. I’ll see to it that you’re taken care of. I know you don’t want to owe anybody anything. I’m guessing that’s part of why you keep to yourself. And I don’t know what your life was like in the Zoo, before you came here. You’re one of us now. We’ll do whatever we can to help you stay safe.”

  Cady felt her face flush with heat. No one had been this kind to her, not since she left the Zoo and her chosen family there.

  “Thank you Sam. That means a lot to me.”

  “I guess we both had secrets to hide.”

  “Yeah. How are you going to deal with everyone knowing you can see possible futures?”

  “I don’t know. I’m still injured, so folks haven’t been asking for help. I can’t see into next week or two. My visions are farther out. But they’re all telling me that there’s going to be big shake-ups.”

  “Earthquake shake ups?” asked Cady.

  “No power shake ups. War. At the Zoo. Surrounding areas, like here, are going to catch some of the fallout. I’m trying to think of how to keep us all safe. The visions aren’t clear beyond the boundaries of the Zoo.”

  “Do the visions tell you when?”

  “Well, Maddy looked older. Her face was thinner, maybe she’s seven in the visions. So, maybe a year from now. Maybe a lot less.”

  “So, we’ve got a little bit of time. You should call a Council Meeting. More heads thinking about this will help.”

  “I plan on doing that. As soon as Sarah gives birth. I can’t think about much else, till then.”

  “Understandable. But afterwards you’ll be sleep-deprived. Your head won’t be clear then, either.”

  “It’s not clear now. The beating I took, it’s made the visions more intense. I do know that you need to be at that meeting.”

  “Me? Why?”

  “No one knows the Zoo better than you.”

  “I left the Zoo over twenty years ago. Everything’s changed there. I’m of no use to you.”

  “You’re one of the few people who understand how powerful Roosevelt and Morrigu are. And you know how to fight. You need to be there and talk to people. Some of them will want to rush in and fight. You know that. We can’t win against the Zoo. We’ll need your help. You are at the center of our survival. I have seen this. In every single vision. Not just one.”

  Cady didn’t say anything. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Felt her energy ground itself, and looked deep within. Do I get involved with this?

  You already are, came back the answer.

  “I’ll be at the meeting,” she said.

  8

  Damon

  Damon stood in the empty gravel parking lot watching Roosevelt’s new people spar with Morrigu’s army. None of them had weapons. Some of Roosevelt’s new people were experienced, most were not. It was probably pie in the sky thinking to hope they’d be fast learners.

  Rain drizzled down his face. He shivered in the cold and acknowledged the ache in his left knee. The one that had been dislocated years ago. He slowly rolled his ankle in small circles. Moving the muscles. Warming them up without drawing attention to himself. He never counted on the advantage of people he worked with not coming back at him later as an enemy. No need to give away any of his weaknesses.

  There. That one. The stocky guy with the pony tail. Using a martial move Damon had never seen before. The man took down an agile, muscular man larger than him. The fallen guy got up and went right back to it. They were fairly evenly matched on the surface of things. Except that the agile guy was breathing heavily and the stocky one wasn’t winded at all. He was basically playing with the other man. The stocky one might be useful to put in a position of power. Maybe.

  Damon paced up and down the line, watching Gregor, Morrigu’s
fight trainer, weave in and out through the sparring. The big man was keeping people in line. A couple of the new people, one man and one woman were clearly out to prove themselves. Out for blood. Neither had much control. Just rage. Although they did have some skill. If they could get their emotions under control, they might be good.

  Then again, how many of them would be cannon fodder in a week?

  He stopped pacing and glanced at the people fighting. This whole thing was a mess. No one, except maybe Morrigu had ever been in a large-scale war. None of them had been in an air fight. Or a battle on the water. There was no general, except Morrigu, who liked to wing it.

  That made him very nervous. He needed to plan. It was his job to keep her safe, he couldn’t do it with all this going on. He had never flown in a plane and didn’t want to. Being out on the water scared him. The Salish Sound was too cold. Even if he could swim, hypothermia would kill him before he could get to shore. And who knew what was lurking beneath those waves. There were rumors of white sharks. Big ones. He shivered.

  Morrigu had no general. She’d never needed one. She’d often led the skirmishes in the past, back when she and Roosevelt had been at war.

  That was completely different. Both of them fighting over a small patch of land, that they knew intimately. It was close fighting. Knives and handguns, maybe a semi-automatic. Lots of ambushes and hand grenades.

  Not the same as attacking an unknown enemy, who might be armed better than you were since you just grabbed any weapon you could get your hands on. In a place where you didn’t know the terrain, the buildings, nothing. Using planes and boats you weren’t trained to use. Weapons you weren’t familiar with. With no real battle plan.

  It wouldn’t work.

  They needed a plan and it looked like no one was going to come up with one, except him. And there was also no sorcerer, other than Roosevelt’s. Morrigu hadn’t replaced Santoni and didn’t seem to even be thinking about it. He needed to remind her to do that. Because Damon was sure that Collins had a sorcerer. Maybe more than one. He needed to find out more about Collins and get a feel for what they were up against. He might have to go on a flyover.

 

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