Epic: Book 02 - Outlaw Trigger

by Lee Stephen

  “Of Silent Fever?”

  “Yeah.”

  “We still knew him,” Becan said.

  David sighed and stared at the Irishman. “The only thing that matters right now is that Nicole’s dead, and Scott’s about one step away from insane.”

  Esther winced at David’s words. “Does Galina think he’ll…?”

  “We don’t know. That’s why she’s got him on watch. He just lost his fiancee, for God’s sake. They’ve been together more than six years. How would you deal with that?”

  Esther’s gaze sunk to the floor.

  “I talked to Clarke earlier,” Max said. “He’s gonna relieve Scott till he’s ready to come back. Just like he did with Svetlana.”

  Jayden’s eyes widened in realization. “What if he leaves? Like she did?”

  “Who is Svetlana?” Oleg asked.

  “Don’t ask,” Becan answered. “Touchy subject.”

  David eyed the Irishman, then turned to Oleg. “She was in the Fourteenth. She dated a lieutenant who was with the unit, too. He got killed—”

  “Got murdered,” Becan corrected.

  David eyed him again. “He died.” His gaze returned to Oleg. “And she left the unit.”

  “You think Remington will leave?” Oleg asked. “Where will he go?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t have all the answers here.”

  “Does he have family?”

  David shook his head. “His parents died when he was young. He has a younger brother.”

  “What about Nicole’s parents?” asked Jayden.

  David frowned. “He called her parents a few hours ago.” He bit his lip, hesitated, then finally spoke. “They won’t be checking up on him anytime soon. That’s all I can say.”

  “They’re gonna blame him…” Jayden said.

  “He already blames himself.”

  “Does his brother know?”

  David nodded.

  “What’s he gonna do?” Jayden asked.

  “What can he do? He’s not even in college yet. Mark’s just a kid.”

  Travis shook his head. “I can’t believe this just happened. I can’t believe we’re talking about this. How could someone as good as Scott go through this?”

  “Because life ain’t fair,” Max said.

  Becan glared at him.

  “What? What’d I say? It’s true, ain’t it?”

  Before an argument could erupt, Esther spoke up with a question. “When can we visit him?”

  Becan and Max settled down.

  “Whenever you want,” David answered. “I wouldn’t go tonight, though. He’s sleeping, and that’s exactly what he needs to do right now.”

  “Would tomorrow be okay?”

  “Give him time to wake up. Then I think it’d be fine.”

  Esther’s eyes lingered on David for a moment. She touched the back of her neck. “Do you think it’d be…appropriate for me to visit him? I haven’t known him for very long, I just…”

  As her words trailed off, David looked at her and tried to smile. “Esther, you can go. Believe me. It’s okay.”

  She offered a single nod.

  Oleg folded his arms. “So now, what do we do? What do we do if we get called on mission? Does he go with us?”

  “How the bloody hell’s he goin’ to go with us like he is?” Becan asked.

  “I am sorry,” Oleg said. “I am only asking.”

  “It’s true though,” Travis said, looking at David. “What if we get called out?”

  Max answered before David could. “Like I already said, as of right now he’s relieved. Galina’s an epsilon, she can handle officer duties.”

  Travis shook his head. “Yeah, but…Scott keeps us alive out there. I mean, it’s no offense to Galina, we all think she’s great, but…she’s not Scott.”

  “Then I’ll keep you alive out there, Travis.”

  “We’ll do fine on the field,” David said. “Dostoevsky and Max can handle us.”

  After nobody else spoke, Esther sighed. “I was so prepared to follow him. I was so excited to begin my career after his example. To see how he is now, after he was so uplifting before…I can’t even describe it. I don’t know what to say.”

  “Say it’s all bollocks, ‘cos tha’s wha’ it is.”

  “Scott will be okay,” David said. “He needs time, and more than that, he needs us. But he’s a strong young man. I think everyone who’s worked with him knows that. He’ll be okay.”

  Becan’s stare hardened as he turned to face David. “Speakin’ o’ Dostoevsky just now…where the hell’s he been? Does he even know wha’ happened?”

  “Yes, he knows,” Max said. “I told him myself.”

  “An’ wha’ did he say?”

  “Not a whole lot. But that’s nothing new.”

  “Well tha’ nuggerknocker had better visit him. Or at least send him a bleedin’ sympathy card.”

  “You know Yuri won’t do that. He’s a Nightman.”

  “I don’t understand the Nightmen,” Esther said. “I’ve seen several since I’ve been here, but I’ve not actually met any, aside from the commander.”

  Maksim spoke up for the first time. “You do not want to.” The room turned to him. “My uncle was a Nightman before they disbanded. They are horrible people. My uncle was horrible person.”

  “Yuri’s human,” Max said. “He feels as much as we do. He’s just not gonna show it.”

  No one commented. As the clock ticked 1830, David’s gaze fell to the floor.

  “Yeh look knackered,” Becan said.

  “I am.”

  “Go catch some zeds, then.”

  David looked at the clock. “It’s not even curfew. I’ve got three hours to party.” It was laced with dead sarcasm.

  “Welcome to the party,” said Travis.

  “I don’t know. It’s just early. It feels too early.”

  “We won’t be loud,” Becan said, “cross our hearts. Yeh need some rest, you look like someone took a spiz on yeh.”

  “Thanks a lot.”

  “Get some rest, man,” said Jayden. “You deserve it.”

  After several moments, David answered. “You know, this hasn’t even hit me, yet. The reality of all this.”

  “It hasn’t hit annyone, yet,” Becan said. “Get some sleep before it does.”

  “I will,” said David. He drew a deep breath, pushed back his chair, and stood up. “First I’m going to call my wife, though. I feel like I need to do that.”

  “Does she know?”

  “Not yet.”

  “All righ’ then. Get to it.”

  “Good night, guys,” David said, waving to them.

  “Night David.”

  “Night Dave.”

  They watched as he stepped through the lounge room door, easing it shut in his wake. The lounge returned to silence.

  Jayden looked at Varvara. Her eyes were already on him.

  “Hell of a day this turned out to be,” Max finally said.

  As Varvara’s eyes began to glisten, Jayden moved to her side.

  Nobody else made a sound.

  Over the next few hours, the occupants of Room 14 filed out one by one into the bunk room. Conversation remained elusive all the while, as quiet company seemed the only appropriate thing to share.

  When the last person left the lounge, most of the Fourteenth was already asleep. Minutes later, all of them were. It was the first time that had ever happened before the nine o’clock curfew.

  Not one of them cared enough to notice.

  10

  Sunday, August 7, 0011 NE

  EDEN Command

  Leonid Torokin lowered into his chair at the black table of the High Command’s conference room. It was their first official session since Archer’s banquet. The new judge was given the extra time to acclimate himself to the job, and Pauling decided that no sessions would be held until he had done so. That wasn’t unusual—all new judges took time to transition in. Thanks to a relative
ly quiet week on the battlefront, High Command could get away with it this time.

  “Good morning,” Grinkov said, sitting beside him.

  “Good morning.”

  “Did you sleep well?”

  Torokin half-frowned. “No.”

  “Are you still having nightmares of combat?”

  “They are not nightmares of combat,” Torokin answered. “They are dreams of combat.” He inclined his head to the High Command. “This is the nightmare.”

  His gaze roamed the circular table, around which the other judges sat. Finally, it came to rest on Archer, who sat directly opposite him. He remembered his brief conversation with Archer in Confinement Command. The new judge looked comfortable in his chair and was seated appropriately beside Judge Rath. On the other side of Archer sat Richard Lena.

  Pauling cleared his throat, and the conversation around him fell silent. The president stared at the tabletop, where the pages of his notebook sat open in front of him. “Good morning, everyone. It’s been a while since we last met, so hopefully we still remember one anothers’ names.”

  Poor attempt at humor, Torokin thought. Several judges chuckled nonetheless.

  “Richard, we’ll begin today’s session with you. What’s the latest news out of Sydney?”

  Judge Lena rose from his chair. “Things are excellent, sir. She should be ready to open up by early 0012. We’re ahead of schedule.”

  Australia had been pressing for the past two years for a major EDEN base on its continent. It was finally coming to fruition, and Torokin felt it was deserved. While its number of enrolled was smaller than most nations, every Australian he’d met had impressed him. EDEN owed them their own facility.

  Lena continued. “The final schematics should be done by the end of next week. This is going to be one hell of a base, sir. To rival London.”

  Judge Malcolm Blake, one of two black judges on the Council, spoke up. “Should I take that personally, Richard?”

  “Not at all, Malcolm. Just admiring your British functionality.” He turned back to the president. “Like London, Sydney won’t be the largest. But she’ll pack a punch when we’re through. They’ll like what they’re getting, I assure you.”

  Pauling rubbed the back of his neck. “As soon as those schematics get in, let me know. This is a big deal. I don’t want to be a single day behind schedule.”

  “Absolutely, sir.”

  Pauling’s focus switched to Rath. “Moving to our next topic, then…Jason, what’s the state of Novosibirsk?”

  Torokin and Grinkov simultaneously leaned forward as Judge Rath rose to his feet. Novosibirsk always sparked a debate.

  Rath cleared his throat and began. “Repairs are going well. The new infirmary is up and running. The last thing we’re obligated to do is restock the base as a whole.”

  “And how is that coming?”

  Rath’s gaze drifted across the other judges before settling back on Pauling. “They’re getting a fair share from Philadelphia…but Thoor’s not making it simple.” Pauling remained silent. “Novosibirsk lost over three thousand EDEN operatives in the assault. They’ve been reinforced with under six hundred.”

  Judge Javier Castellnou, the lone Spaniard on the High Command, entered the discussion. “Then how is Novosibirsk being fully restocked?”

  “Nightmen. They lost about eighty Nightmen in the assault. Over five hundred have replaced them.”

  “Where are they coming from?”

  The room fell silent as every gaze turned to Torokin and Grinkov. It never failed. Every time Nightmen were mentioned, the Russians were asked for their opinions. It was as if they were supposed to have inside information. This time was apparently no exception.

  Torokin leaned forward, propped his elbows on the table, and cleared his throat. “Not all Nightmen are at Novosibirsk. There are many in all of Russia. There are enough Nightmen to stock that facility, and more so if Thoor chooses.”

  Castellnou stared. “And you tell us this now?” His eyes danced wildly around the table.

  “Shut up, Javier.” Castellnou was an idiot. “We have discussed this a thousand times. This is not new information.” He turned to Judge Rath. “Thoor wants to strengthen his ranks. I do not see why that is a problem now. It never was before.”

  “It’s a problem because he’s taking over that base,” Rath said. “And we are continuing to ignore it.”

  “Thoor is too valuable to lose,” Pauling said, his voice tired from repetition. “We’ve gone over this already. No other facility could have mounted that attack in Siberia with just three units. And there may not be another base that could have survived a full-fledged Bakma assault.”

  Castellnou’s nostrils flared excessively. “At what point is enough, enough? Don’t see you see that he is stealing Novosibirsk from us?”

  “If we press him, we may lose Novosibirsk. This is a rare case when bending is acceptable.”

  “Then what if Leningrad wants the same? Or Berlin? Or Nagoya? Let’s just give every base the power to do what it wants!”

  “You know this situation is different,” Pauling said.

  “It is not different!”

  Pauling sighed. “Javier…”

  “It’s ridiculous,” Castellnou replied. “We cannot allow him to run Novosibirsk as if it were his own little kingdom!”

  “I know he’s a drama queen,” said Lena, referring to Castellnou’s outbursts, “but he does have a point.”

  Torokin couldn’t help but smirk.

  “I’m not going to challenge our strongest asset,” said Pauling.

  “The president’s right,” added Blake.

  Not surprisingly, Castellnou flipped out. “He is stealing Novosibirsk! This cannot be allowed to go on!”

  “For God’s sake, Javier, calm down!”

  “I will not be calm!”

  The volume of the argument intensified. The usual judges chimed in. Blake backed the president. Rath stayed on the fence. Lena and Castellnou challenged them—while still managing to challenge each other. Even Grinkov was getting involved.

  Torokin looked at Archer. He wondered how the newcomer would react to this one. He wondered what side he would take. The Novosibirsk debate was a heated one—the most heated one High Command ever had. And at each meeting, no progress was made. Only shouting.

  Archer’s eyes danced between them all. First to Pauling, then to Castellnou, then to Rath. Then to the others.

  Then down to his own notebook.

  At that moment Torokin’s expression changed, as he continued to watch the new judge. His expression changed, because Archer’s changed first. There was a look in Archer’s eyes—one the Russian hadn’t expected to see. There was a thoughtful look. A calculating look. A knowing one. It caught Torokin off guard because for a split second it didn’t look like the gaze of a judge. It looked like the gaze of a president. And it was right then, in the height of the verbal fistfight, that Benjamin Archer rose to his feet.

  “Everyone, please,” he said, his eyes still fixed on his notebook. Despite the passiveness in his voice, the conference room hushed into silence. Every head turned in his direction. “Judge Rath, can you restate the death count for me, please?”

  Rath watched him for a moment, then quizzically angled his head. “From the Assault on Novosibirsk?”

  “Yes, please.”

  Rath exchanged a glance with the president, then read the official numbers aloud. “The exact tally is 3,291 EDEN and eighty-six Nightmen. That comes to a total of 3,377.”

  The room fell quiet as Archer closed his eyes. Torokin leaned forward in his chair. Archer was thinking. But about what?

  “3,377,” the new judge finally said. “Listen to that number. 3,377. Of 3,377 losses, eighty-six were Nightmen.” His gaze returned to Rath. “What is the EDEN-to-Nightman ratio in Novosibirsk?”

  “About a third. Almost ten thousand to three thousand. Or it was before the assault.”

  “Listen to that,” Archer re
sumed. “Fathom that for a moment. EDEN suffered a mortality rate close to forty percent. The Nightmen lost less than five percent.”

  Several of the other judges raised their eyebrows.

  “Are the Nightmen really that superior? We all know the tales of Thoor’s army, but forty percent to five? Are they forty-percent-to-five-percent superior?”

  Torokin narrowed his eyes.

  Archer turned to the wall monitor. “Can we view the official log of the assault, please?” After several seconds, the monitor came to life. Archer observed it for a moment, before he moved beside it and pointed at the screen. “Look here. The attack began at 0136 hours. At what time did the Nightmen charge the airstrip?”

  The battle log scrolled for several seconds. Then it stopped. 0225.

  Archer panned his gaze across the table. “Fifty minutes. It took fifty minutes for the Nightmen to muster their forces.” Nobody in the room said a word. “These are the Nightmen we’re speaking of. It took the Nightmen fifty minutes to muster an offensive. Why so long?” When no one answered, he turned to the monitor again. “How many Nightmen were killed before they made their charge?”

  The log scrolled to its end. When the precharge tally stopped, several of the judges drew hushed gasps.

  “Ten on record,” Archer read. “Prior to the charge…the Nightmen lost ten. I understand their superiority, but in the midst of a total invasion, how could they lose only ten?”

  Silence captured the room.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” Archer said, “I present to you a new hypothesis. It didn’t take General Thoor fifty minutes to muster his forces because he needed it to take fifty minutes. It took him fifty minutes because he wanted it to.” He swiveled to face Rath. “He gave the Bakma fifty minutes to slaughter us. Then he stepped in, and he saved the day. He allowed the Bakma to pick EDEN apart, so that the Bakma could dwindle our numbers. And they did. We lost forty percent of our operatives. And guess who’s come in to replace them?”

  Torokin couldn’t believe it. The math was there. The answer was there. And none of them had caught it.