Everyone at the table remained stone-faced. A few nodded.
“I’d hoped the President and the CIA would come to their damned senses given enough time,” Karl continued, “but not only have they pulled back on what our mission should be, they have all but given the green light for an invasion by this Nine Systems Alliance. One of their operatives was setting up vast resource chains secretly when she was running around murdering humans.” He snorted. “And now it’s even worse because I’ve learned that Company assets are going to be tasked for one of Senator Johnston’s new whims, and it’s obvious they’re trying to make sure we’re not involved. We have the right to defend the Earth, and we will defend it.”
Curiosity rather than irritation covered the face of one of the agents, McKenna. “Are Franklin and Winters and their damned little group of troublemakers going to be involved in Johnston’s operation?”
Karl nodded. It was good to know that some of the others understood just how much trouble Timothy Franklin and Daniel Winters had caused them, even if they were allegedly brother CIA agents. Their little group had gone from being rogues to somehow making Fortis the enemy, despite Franklin and Winters working with hostile aliens.
Traitors. They should be executed. No, death is too good for them. They’ve betrayed the country and planet because they’re weak. I wish I could use one of those matter transformation guns on them to remind them just who they’re dealing with.
“Yes.” Karl slammed his palm on the hard glass surface of the table, raising the eyebrows of a few of the agents. “We’ve let them poison the CIA and the President, even as they work with all their little foreign mercenaries and Oriceran friends and undermine this country. Fortis has defended this country from hostile threats, and we must continue to do it, even if certain people don’t have the stomach for what has to be done. Everything we’ve done, we’ve done for the love of country and humanity. If at the end of the day, they want to lock us up and throw away the key, fine, but not before we’ve purged all alien threats from Earth.”
He stood and walked over to a window. The Washington Monument was visible in the distance. It was too easy to forget that such a monument wouldn’t last forever. Lines from one of Nast’s favorite poems drifted through his thoughts.
Nothing beside remains: round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare,
The lone and level sands stretch far away.
Nothing lasted forever if you didn’t have the strength to protect it, and he would protect it.
How many tourists were standing near the Monument, and what would happen if an alien ship fired a weapon of mass destruction right at it? Karl doubted people would be overly worried about diplomacy after that. Earth should only negotiate with the aliens from a position of strength.
This isn’t about game or ego, but about protecting the safety of the United States. Are they really going to take away our ability to do that just because a few civilians have been collateral damage now and again? Because we needed to use extraordinary measures to get information from hostile aliens? They accuse us of being the ones trying to start a war when we’re trying to stop the war before it ever starts.
Aliens aren’t people. They are creatures, and they have to be dealt with accordingly.
Karl narrowed his eyes as he stared at the Monument. The loss of a few lives here and there, or even a town, was a small price to pay. What were hundreds of lives measured against billions?
It was like protecting the body from cancer. Some cells had to die to save the rest.
Agent McKenna frowned. “Agent Nast?”
“We’ve all made sacrifices,” Karl replied, turning back to the table. “Both our fellow agents, and even our fellow citizens. I know that at times, some of you might have questioned those losses. You might find a question arising in the back of your mind if Franklin is right and some of our tactics have been inappropriate or extreme.”
A few agents looked down.
They need to make their decision now. It’s not going to get any easier for them. This is our chance to finally take back control of the situation.
“It’s all right to have those questions, but you need to come to the right answers. This is a war.” Karl walked back over to his chair and took a seat. “People die in war, including innocent people and children. Sometimes there’s no choice if you want to save everyone else. Consider it triage if you must, but make no mistake; we can’t pull back now.”
The agents nodded slowly, although a few still looked uncomfortable at such a blatant statement confirming the truth of Fortis’ harsh tactics.
“This is a war with enemies that share no history or values with us,” Karl ranted. “Hostile aliens who fear this planet, so they hide in the shadows, plotting against us in ways the most depraved terrorist would never think of. In war, there is always a sacrifice for the greater good, and we’re rapidly approaching a tipping point where the future of this planet will be determined by men and women willing to make the tough choices.” He stared down the table, his face grim. “We don’t have the resources or personnel we once did, but that doesn’t mean we will give up. We will continue to fight, not just for ourselves, but for our country and planet, no matter what the cost.”
Agent McKenna snorted. “Franklin and Winters might be the sword, but Johnston’s swinging it. That damned old man is as much of a problem as that damned little band of self-righteous rogues.”
“Maybe we should assassinate Johnston, then,” another agent suggested. “It’ll be easy enough to pin it on someone else. I don’t understand why we’ve let him live this long, considering how often he’s interfered with us.”
Several agents nodded their agreement, no one showing the slightest concern about assassinating a US senator.
Karl shook his head. “The only reason we haven’t been crushed totally is that we’ve shown a certain restraint. There’s a tacit understanding here. If we target other members of the CIA or aliens, the politicians can look away and pretend it has nothing to do with them, but if they start dying, they’ll be forced to act. But we have an even bigger worry.”
“What?” McKenna asked, his brow furrowed.
“That damned alien bounty hunter.” Karl’s hand curled into a fist.
“Brownstone?”
“Don’t give that thing the dignity of a human name. It’s just an alien pretending to be a man.” Karl’s face twitched. “He represents the worst-case scenario, long-term infiltration. And it’s obvious now that he or others allied with him used significant resources to hide his presence from us until such time as he didn’t care, but idiots like Johnston think they can use him. We should have let the Nine Systems Alliance take him. At least we’d have fewer threats.”
“You don’t buy into Johnston’s theory that we can use the alien as a weapon?”
Karl sneered. “A weapon is something you control, not something you have to bargain with. No. If we were lucky, he probably would have ended up killing a lot of the other aliens before they finished him off and we’d be safer overall. Now we still have both threats at full strength.”
“Why don’t we finish him off ourselves, then?” another agent suggested.
Agent McKenna stared at the man, disbelief on his face. “You’re not the first to suggest that. It didn’t go well for the Harriken.”
“Pathetic gangsters who lacked our training and access to artifacts and technology.”
“What about sending him to the World in Between?” Agent McKenna looked at Karl. “It doesn’t matter if he’s dead, just that he’s not on Earth.”
Karl scoffed. “This wouldn’t be like a normal job. We’d need to gather a large number of magicals, and that’s without the full resources of the CIA. Purely mercenary wizards might lack the skill to do it, or they’d leak it, and then Franklin and Winters would come after us.”
“We should have killed Winters years ago when we first suspected what he was doing,” Agent McKenna replied. “Troy Wil
liams should have done his damned job.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Karl narrowed his eyes again. “We have to deal with the future, not the past. I’m not convinced the alien is invincible, especially considering some of the tech we have access to. We’re not going to purge the alien influence on Earth by being afraid of aliens. We need to try everything we can, and we do still have a few powerful tools left to us. Besides, the alien is one consideration, but Johnston’s latest scheme might help us there, too.”
“How?”
“From what I’ve been to able to find out, he’s going to recover some sort of anti-alien weapon, a powerful old magical artifact. If the assassination attempts fail, we can simply use whatever toy Johnston manages to dig up. The first step is to figure out what and where it is. Then we can make sure we get it before Johnston gets his hands on it.” Karl surveyed the table, enjoying the belief and confidence displayed on the other agents’ faces. “Earth will be safe with Fortis protecting it.”
2
Damien Philips, the owner of Philips Bar-B-Que, set a tray of ribs in front of James, a huge smile on his face. “Haven’t seen you in a long time, Brownstone. I was beginning to think you hated my place, but then I figured, why would you have paid to have it rebuilt if you hated it?” He pulled some napkins out of his apron and set them on the table.
James looked around at the heavy wooden tables and dark wooden booths. The restaurant looked nothing like the white plastic fest it had been the last time he visited. That wasn’t surprising. Getting blasted by Council goons had assured that some redecoration was necessary.
Those fuckers really picked the wrong place to come at me. Dumbshits. Lucky the fuckers didn’t go after my house.
He pondered that. He’d killed them, so it wasn’t clear what worse punishment he could have meted out.
“You need to understand that I don’t always have the best luck,” James replied.
Damien frowned. “Luck? You’re one of the most successful bounty hunters on the planet.”
“Yeah, but that shit means people are always coming at me, and that means places like yours get wrecked. So after all that, I decided not to press my luck. You got everything fixed, and I didn’t want to walk in here and get your place blown up again because some crazy-ass Oriceran or fucking wizard had a hard-on for trying to kill me. That shit doesn’t happen to me nearly as much these days, but I can’t guarantee it never will.” James shrugged.
“I never thought about it that way.” Damien laughed. “That makes sense. I know this sounds twisted as hell, but my place getting blasted by those guys was the best thing that ever happened to my business.”
“Huh?”
“You see, I was just kind of getting by, but now I’m raking in the dough. At the rate things are going, I might even be able to open up a second place soon. Not sure if I’m going to call it Philips Bar-B-Que Two or something else.”
James sampled a rib, taking a few bites. Good sauce work. There was a reason he used to hit the place regularly. “How does that work? Somebody come in and invest?”
“Nope, just better business. Lots more pick-up orders and foot traffic. It didn’t cost me anything to rebuild, thanks to you.” Damien pulled out a chair and took a seat across from James. “And because the attack was related to the Council, I got a lot of publicity. All sorts of news types wanted interviews about the attack, about you. Hell, about barbeque.” He gestured to the ribs. “Turns out they’re right.”
“’They?’ Who is ‘they?’”
“You know, ‘they.’” Damien made air quotes. “The they who always say shit like, ‘There is no such thing as bad publicity.’ I always thought people would be too afraid to come, but I was wrong. Once my place reopened, tons of people wanted to come to the restaurant where Brownstone took those bad guys down. A lot of barbeque people figured if you were a customer here, there was a good reason.”
James grunted. “True enough. I was coming here because I liked the barbeque.” He held up a rib. “I still do. Sorry I made you think I hated it.”
“No problem. The important thing is that you’re here now.” Damien pointed to a picture across the room. “I’ve even got a photo of the burned-out old place next to the picture I have of you on the wall. I think this is what they call creative destruction. It sucked at the time, but I’ve got no problems with how things went down now.”
James chuckled. “You’re a much better businessman than I am. I would have just been pissed and kicked ass until I felt better. Fuck, I was pissed at the time, and I did kick ass.”
“You’re the reason this is happening, though. You even paid my staff’s wages during the construction. I still don’t know how I can thank you. If it wasn’t for you, I’d have been so screwed and so would they, thanks to my worthless insurance company.” Damien snorted. “I got a new one. Don’t know if they’ll be better in that situation. We’ll just have to see, the next time I get blown up. So thanks for all your help.”
“It was my fault your place got fucked up, and I clean up my messes. Simple as that.” James shrugged. “You’ve got nothing to thank me for. I’d be pissed at me if I was you. I brought you a lot of shit, and you had to deal with the aftermath. That wasn’t fair.”
“I’m not pissed, I’m grateful. Let me make that clear.” Damien shook his head. “It doesn’t sit right with me that I haven’t paid you back somehow. Can I at least offer you free food when you come? Like the ribs you’re eating?”
“No. I pay for what I eat.” James grunted. “If you want to do anything, you can offer a discount to my guys. I’ll let them know, but don’t let any of those fuckers try to con you out of free ribs. I don’t want Brownstone Agency employees running around freeloading.”
“In other words, more business for me.” Damien looked thoughtful. “Can’t say I don’t like the sound of it. Not a bad deal at all.”
“Yeah, and a lot of them are on our barbeque team, too, so it’ll help for them to sample high-quality barbeque. Also, having Brownstone Agency guys coming here regularly who aren’t me will probably cut down on the chance of petty robbery. The big guys like the Council come after me, not my guys.” James frowned. “Well, usually, but I can’t make any guarantees.”
Damien waved a hand. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. I’d love to have your guys.”
It wasn’t as if he needed the business. Every table and booth was filled, the occasional person lifting their phone to take a picture of James.
Several people had already come and asked for autographs, but he had made it clear that once his food had arrived, people were to leave him the fuck alone, other than pictures. He didn’t get the appeal of some random phone picture of him, but it didn’t hurt him, either.
This barbeque was great even before the place got wrecked, but he said his business sucked. Flavor isn’t everything, huh?
“Did you always want to have your own barbeque place?” James asked. “Is this like a family deal or something?”
He felt bad for never asking before, but he tended to care about taste first and everything else a far distant second.
“No, not a family deal. Everyone I knew said I was a damned fool for opening a barbeque place. My family was the loudest about that.” Damien folded his arms as he pondered the question. “I was an accountant before opening this place.” He laughed. “I worked in a big fancy auditing firm for a while. I can’t complain about it. My bosses weren’t dicks, and I made good money. It was a good, steady job. Easy in its own way.”
“How did you end up doing barbeque then?” James watched a woman take a bite out of a brisket sandwich.
“I always liked cooking barbeque, but I always figured owning a restaurant wasn’t a stable career path, and like I said, everyone I knew kept telling me that, too. It’s hard to swim against the current when no other fish is even trying.” Damien nodded to a couple in a booth gobbling down ribs. “But I asked myself at one point, ‘When am I happiest?’ And the answer was always the sam
e. I was happiest when I was cooking barbeque for people. It wasn’t like I hated my old job, but when that time hit where I was questioning choices, midlife crisis or whatever you want to call it, I decided to open a restaurant instead of buying a sports car.” He chuckled.
James finished off another rib. “Do you ever regret it? Ever think you should go back to your old job?”
“No, not for a second.” Damien shrugged. “Every day, I think I made the right choice. I make good food that people like, and I’m doing something I like. Sure, margins were tight at first, and I could have made more money at my old job, but there’s something to be said for doing what you love. And now everything’s going my way. I just needed to hang in there.”
James considered the man’s story. Unlike Damien, the bounty hunter had millions of dollars in savings and a successful business that no longer required his direct involvement. Financial considerations weren’t relevant if he decided to open a place. He could operate at a loss until the day he died if he wanted.
But he didn’t want to do that. If he was going to open a restaurant, doing anything less than striving for success was pointless. He already cooked as a hobby, but running an actual restaurant should be different. If he ran it like a hobby, it’d never be successful.
“Must feel good, seeing all these people enjoying something you made.” James stared down at the ribs on his plate as he pondered the balance of spices in the sauce. “When you’re a bounty hunter, a lot of people aren’t happy when you’re doing your job.” He chuckled. “Other than the cops, but it’s not like they’ve ever been happy to see me when I have shown up at a bounty’s house.”
“I can imagine.” Damien laughed. “Why? You thinking about quitting the bounty hunting game and opening a barbeque restaurant?”
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