Dragon_The Final War

by JC Andrijeski

  “Where is Feigran?” Talei asked in English.

  Alyson gave her an even colder stare.

  Then, making a fluid motion with one hand, she made a downward slashing gesture at the end. The gesture meant nothing to Brooks, but clearly she was in the minority.

  More gasps erupted around her.

  The seers behind her erupted in chatter, all speaking different languages and seemingly at once. Most of them still seemed to be aiming their words at Alyson Taylor, however.

  Brooks got the impression they forgot all about her in those few seconds.

  “What the fuck does that mean?” a brunette demanded in English. Unlike the others, she didn’t even pretend deference; her voice was openly angry. “Gone? How can he be fucking gone? Where is he?” Stepping forward, she aimed her next words at the male seer now walking abreast with the Bridge. “Jem? What the fuck is this shit? Where have you two been?”

  “Not now, Mara,” the male growled.

  “Not now?” she said. “If someone has him, we have to go after them!”

  The male bodyguard scowled, then glanced at Alyson.

  “She’s got a point,” he muttered in English. “We could send scouts, at least.”

  Alyson gave him an incredulous look.

  “Absolutely not.” She glared at the male seer, even though he probably stood seven inches taller than her and had to be two or three of her in weight. “Are you kidding me right now, Jem? How long do you think they’d last? Or are you thinking I have infiltrators to spare right now, that I can throw them away on a fucking suicide mission?”

  Brooks flinched at the language in spite of herself.

  The male seer’s expression altered. He looked about to argue, then frowned, as if rethinking what he’d been about to say.

  He looked at the hazel-eyed seer he’d called Mara.

  “She’s right,” he said, blunt.

  “Jem!”

  “Not now, sister,” he snapped, motioning toward Brooks. “We have a guest… or had you forgotten that? Along with your manners?”

  “Manners?” Mara snorted. “You were just yelling at her yourself! What, do you think part of your role as bodyguard involves taking the place of her husband, Jem?”

  The male seer’s gaze jerked sideways. He glared at the brunette with the stunning hazel eyes, his sculpted mouth set as his expression grew murderous.

  “Lower your fucking head!” he snapped. “The Esteemed Bridge and I were having an operational disagreement… which is totally within the bounds of propriety and you know it. If you think for one second that’s an excuse for you to continue to treat the Esteemed Bridge without even a modicum of fucking respect, you’re sadly mistaken, sister. I’ll re-teach you the protocols myself, if you find yourself needing a refresher.”

  That time, Brooks saw the Bridge give the male an annoyed look.

  She didn’t speak, though.

  Brooks saw the hazel-eyed female, Mara, back down.

  The rest of them fell silent, and now Alyson was looking at Brooks. She walked directly up to her and thrust out a hand once she was close enough, her expression still taut. Before Brooks could decide how to react, they were already shaking hands.

  “I apologize, sir,” she said, her voice surprisingly sincere. Warm, too. “As you’ve probably surmised, we had some unexpected trouble today.” She shrugged, her eyes still studying Brooks’ face. “That’s no excuse, of course. Despite our lack of manners, know you are welcome here. Very much so. More than I can adequately express, truthfully. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate the risk you’ve taken in speaking with me at all.”

  Clear, unwavering gaze.

  Simple but strong handshake. No bullshit.

  Polite but not subservient. Not arrogant, either.

  A woman who had nothing whatsoever to prove.

  Brooks decided she already liked her a little. Maybe more than a little.

  “It’s no problem,” she said, releasing the Bridge’s hand with a smile. “It may surprise you to know this, but I’ve had a few days like that myself lately.”

  Blinking at her words, Alyson Taylor seemed to hear them suddenly.

  Then she shocked the hell out of Brooks.

  She laughed.

  It was a real laugh; it reached her eyes and then her body as her shoulders abruptly relaxed. She laughed again, even as she seemed to be trying to suppress it. The laugh dissolved into a giggle at the end, containing even more warmth than her smile and managing to surprise Brooks again if only because for the first time she looked fully human.

  She also looked surprisingly young.

  “Yeah,” the seer said, wiping what might have been a mirth-induced tear from her cheek. She grinned at Brooks as she clasped her arm. “I’ll bet.”

  That time, Brooks couldn’t help it.

  She laughed, too.

  Still smiling, she found her eyes drifting down, resting on the torn place on the Bridge’s combat pants. Once she refocused there, the humor on her lips faded.

  Inside that ripped cloth was a violent red mark, obviously recently new.

  Alyson Taylor hadn’t been shot.

  She’d been burned… or really, branded. It took Brooks a few seconds longer to make out the brand’s shape, what the design there actually depicted.

  It was a dragon, she realized.

  It was a winged dragon coiled around the sun.

  29

  HEADS OF STATE

  I FOUND MYSELF shaking my head, clicking at her sharply before I remembered who I was talking to.

  If someone had told me, even a few years ago, that I’d be having a heart to heart with the President of the United States in an abandoned farmhouse just outside of Colorado Springs, I would have laughed at them.

  Or thought they were nuts, more likely.

  Subduing my voice and my light, I cautioned her, “Respectfully, sir, I don’t think that’s a good idea. It won’t be enough.”

  Brooks barely hid her exasperation. “Then what do you suggest?”

  I sighed, forcing myself to think before I answered too quickly.

  So far, I liked Brooks. I liked her a lot, actually, which I hadn’t really expected, at least not so soon. I’d gotten a good feeling about her, seeing her on the feeds, but then, I’d gotten a good feeling from Wellington, too, and he turned out to be a Terian body.

  Granted, he’d been one of the saner versions of Terian I’d ever come across, but still.

  Hesitating, I shrugged, human-fashion.

  “I think you need to let us clean house for you,” I said. “We’ve already ID’d Novak as a plant of this Shadow we’ve been telling you about. There will be others.” Seeing her frown, I shook my head, clicking. “I think you should let us help you with this. And then I think you need to get out of here, with whoever and whatever you can. Whatever you feel is salvageable, both in terms of people and resources.”

  I hardened my voice a little.

  “Respectfully, I also think you need to act on this now, sir. Before they begin relocating people into that facility under the airport, and start doing a little housecleaning of their own. I think it would be an absolute miracle if they don’t have a seer assigned to you already. The fact that you made it out here at all actually shows that you have more loyal people within your current regime than maybe you realize. Including a fair few seers, I would guess.”

  Hesitating, I met her gaze, wincing at the expression there.

  “We can’t wait,” I cautioned her. “Not after what I saw today. Not now that we know what Shadow’s people have built under that airport. Not with another telekinetic on his way to––”

  “You want me to abandon my damned presidency?” she broke in, outraged.

  I held up a hand. “No. Well… no. Not really. But I’d like you to acknowledge it’s been infiltrated and rebuild it to a degree. That doesn’t have to mean abandoning it.”

  “With zero resources?” She threw up a hand, letting out a humorless laug
h. “Are you really thinking my presidency can just be ‘carried’ out of here? Maybe on the backs of a few of my cabinet members? And we will take all of these people––where, exactly?”

  Her black, curly hair, streaked lightly with gray had fallen most of the way out of the soft bun she’d knotted it into. She’d used two emerald green chopsticks to hold it together before, which I couldn’t help but find funny. She’d obviously been a knockout when she was young and was still a stunner in what must be her late-fifties, but normally on the feeds I saw her as more distant and unapproachable than I did now. She looked softer with the messed up hair and more human than I’d ever seen her look in speeches, but there was nothing soft in her voice or her dark brown eyes when she glared at me.

  “You presume a lot, Esteemed Bridge,” she said. “A hell of a lot.”

  “I’m trying to keep you alive,” I said, as patiently as I could. Exasperation leaked into my voice. “Seriously. Why would I bother with any of this, if I wasn’t trying to help you? You know we could have just infiltrated the whole compound by now, right? That I could have ordered my people to go forward with eliminating Shadow agents without asking you a damned thing? I realize it’s risky for you to meet with me like this… but it’s damned risky for us, too.”

  She frowned, looking at me, her arms folded near the Formica table.

  Something about her expression told me that thought had occurred to her.

  I was making a very concerted effort not to read her more than absolutely necessary, so I didn’t touch her light to confirm that impression.

  Her fingers picked at the cracked metal rim of the green-patterned table.

  The farmhouse looked like it had been decorated sometime circa 1954.

  Checked and faded cloths hung in the windows as makeshift curtains, what might have once been cheap hand towels. The clapboard cabinets had been painted white that had since faded to gray; the paint had worn away to wood in a lot of places.

  The floor had been white once too, I guessed, a thin linoleum now scored with black marks and ripped around the edges. Water from broken windows and what must have been at least one roof leak had damaged just about everything.

  We had coffee cups in front of us, filled with powdered instant coffee and boiled filtered water, both from my people.

  I think the cups came with the house. Thin, white and ridiculously small, they looked like something my human grandmother would have owned.

  Brooks exhaled while I watched, still picking at the linoleum with her fingers.

  “We had a suicide recently,” she said.

  I blinked. I felt pieces of what she referenced in her light along with the emotions she still carried from the incident.

  After a short pause, I sighed.

  “Yeah,” I said. “You’re probably right.” At her puzzled look, I shrugged. “Novak. She probably killed him. She’s the one person in your administration we’ve definitely ID’d as working for Shadow.”

  Brooks nodded slowly. Her eyes narrowed. “And your husband? Who does he work for these days?”

  I swallowed down a tepid sip of the coffee, avoiding her eyes.

  “We got a bulletin,” Brooks said. “He’s been seen in Hong Kong, Esteemed Bridge. Didn’t you say just now that was a Shadow city?”

  I nodded, still not answering.

  She wasn’t willing to let it go, though.

  “Does he work for this Shadow seer?” Brooks said. “Or not?”

  Hesitating, I gestured more or less with one hand, seer-fashion.

  “Possibly,” I admitted. At her disbelieving grunt, I held up the same hand. “It’s complicated. We have a daughter. He’s trying to protect her. Both of us, really.”

  Brooks shook her head though, her expression openly frustrated. “How can I possibly trust you, if your own husband––”

  “You don’t have to trust me for long. As for Revik…”

  I hesitated, wincing at the pain in my heart just from his name. A swell of anger hit me when I remembered Dalejem mocking me for that very thing.

  “…My husband only left us recently,” I finished, focusing back on Brooks. “He can’t hurt you from where he is. He also has no idea where I am right now. If all goes according to plan, he won’t know before we’re long gone.”

  Frustration continued to seethe off Brooks’ light, but she only nodded, staring at the table. I could sense that she felt like she had no choices but bad ones.

  I couldn’t really disagree.

  I checked the timepiece in my headset.

  “We’ll send Talei and Chan back in with you now,” I said, trying to reassure her. “If anyone noticed your absence in a relevant way, they’ll signal me and we’ll move at once. Otherwise, follow the plan we just discussed. Whatever happens, my people will get you out safely, if that’s what you want. I’ll do whatever I can to make that happen. I promise you.”

  When Brooks still didn’t speak, I made another vague gesture with my hand, still fighting not to read her too much.

  “I can spare a few more of my seers, too, if you think you can get them in past security.”

  I gestured another smooth reassurance in seer, baffled that I couldn’t seem to remember most of my human mannerisms anymore.

  “Look,” I said, slipping more into my California accent. I leaned over the table and she finally met my eyes. “We’re not going to force the issue. I’m offering you an option. I’m also offering you protection. If you decide not to do it, then just tell my people when it becomes relevant. They aren’t going to kidnap you. We’ll leave you here if you really want that.”

  She waved away my words though, grimacing.

  “Those kinds of assurances are meaningless to me right now. You must know that. No offense, but I can’t believe anything you say about that.”

  Sighing, I nodded. Not much point in arguing that, either.

  It was amazing, really, that she’d come this far.

  Brooks exhaled, as if still fighting indecision. Straightening her suit jacket, she leaned back in the rusted chair, adjusting her ass on the seat, probably because it felt as numb as mine did on the warped metal.

  Frowning, she met my gaze.

  “And what is this ‘List’ exactly again?” she said, pursing her lips. “You said my name is on it. What does that even mean?”

  I shook my head, clicking softly.

  “It would take awhile to explain that, sir,” I said truthfully. “To explain it well, at least. We don’t have that time now. Suffice it to say, we have our own reasons to take great pains to keep you alive. We believe you would be a significant asset in helping us to rebuild a civilization for humans and seers––hopefully in a direction that won’t enslave either of our races.”

  I met her gaze, speaking more frankly.

  “It’s our main assurance in regards to you.” I gestured a short apology, one she wouldn’t even understand, I realized. “…In our trusting you, I mean. Like you, we don’t really know who our friends are right now. We also have at least one plant at a high level. I vetted this team carefully, though, so I don’t think they’re among us now.”

  She gave me a skeptical look.

  It occurred to me that she thought, because I was a seer, I would be able to sniff out anyone who wasn’t loyal. The thought almost made me laugh aloud.

  It wasn’t really funny though.

  And according to my timepiece, this meeting was over.

  As much as I wanted her with us, I didn’t have any more time to spend on this now.

  “Think about it,” I said to her, rising slowly to my feet, wincing at the pain in my thigh. I gave her a short bow, keeping my light and my tone respectful. “The offer to let you stay is sincere, whether you want to trust it or not. Some of my people will be in your complex already, so you need only follow the protocol outlined and they will either assist you and your allies in getting out… or not. But we’ll have to move fast on our end. Preferably within the next few hours.”

&
nbsp; I gave her a grim smile, gesturing respectfully.

  “I have already given my people orders not to impede your free will unnecessarily. But I hope you understand that I am retaining operational authority in terms of our own security interests. I’ll pull the trigger if any of them feel the mission is in danger. If you haven’t made up your mind by then, you might be shit out of luck…”

  Trailing, I flushed, realizing what I’d just said and to who.

  I gestured another apology with one hand.

  “…They’ve also been authorized to take out any agents of Shadow they find while they’re there. Whether you approve or not.”

  Brooks’ eyes shot up.

  She stared at me, her eyes incredulous.

  “You don’t get a vote in that, sorry,” I added, my voice a touch warning, even with the apology. “That’s an operational necessity for me. So if my people determine you might thwart their attempts to remove someone they’ve ID’d, they already have my permission to make sure you don’t get in the way. Not by killing you, of course,” I added hastily, seeing the alarm growing in her brown eyes. “But you’ll be neutralized, yes. Temporarily.”

  Moira Brooks leaned back in her chair, arms folded.

  From the look on her face, I wondered if she was marveling at my audacity.

  Swallowing a bit, I made a more concessionary gesture with one hand.

  “We’d like you with us,” I said. “I mean that. I really do. But I have my own shit to deal with. I can’t jeopardize that just because you don’t trust me.” Feeling my face flush hotter, I added, “I hope you’ll take the time to think about what you really believe… and what’s important to you in terms of this new world. Maybe titles aren’t the thing to be focused on right now? Or holding onto a system that was pretty fucked up by the end, anyway?”

  Again, I got that incredulous look. Her eyebrows rose so high they nearly disappeared behind the shorter fringe of her black hair.

  Not focusing there for long, I bowed again.

  “Thank you very much, sir,” I said, using the formal cadence of Prexci, although I spoke in English. “…For agreeing to meet with me. And for hearing me out.”

  Without waiting for her to get up, I excused myself.