The Glass Mountains: The Saboteur Chronicles Book 2

by J. V. Roberts

  “Greener than most,” Pinkerton said.

  “Whatever.” Caldwell was dealing a row of cards to himself.

  “So, anyway, this kid can’t shoot for shit. But his test scores were off the charts. He was a born officer if there ever was one.”

  “Mom’s brains and Pop’s balls.” Caldwell was flipping the cards over one at a time.

  “And grandpa’s eyesight.” Reyes erupted into laughter, almost losing control of his cigarette.

  Dan and Pinkerton joined in the hysterics. Dan leaned over and shook Caldwell by his bicep, drawing a smile out of him.

  “Fuck all of you.” Caldwell collected the row of cards and began dealing again.

  “Okay, so we invite young Caldwell up to Hause’s office to discuss his future with the military. Hause is behind his desk, looking regal and shuffling papers. I’m standing there with my thumb up my ass. He walks in and I swear, to this day, I’ve never seen him looking so squared away, you could have cut yourself on those creases.”

  “Tell me something, Caldwell, how long did it take you to limber up your tongue for that ass licking?” Reyes was still chuckling.

  “Your mom had a lot of extra time on her hands after your daddy started sucking dick, so she let me practice on her.”

  Reyes bunched a fist up around his mouth. “Damn! Look at you, going old school.”

  “I’m a fan of the classics.”

  “Okay, fellas, can I finish this fucking story? So, Caldwell is wearing that fancy pistol his daddy gave him. And you know how Hause is. Naturally, he wants to see it. As Hause is coming around the desk, Caldwell is just standing there shaking, mouth half open, like he’s seeing a pair of tits for the first time. Hause asks him for the gun and this limp dick just starts nodding like a fool, drool running all down his chin.”

  “You’re so full of shit,” Caldwell said, shaking his head.

  “As he’s removing the gun from its holster, his hand is just rattling, like some windup toy.”

  “Oh shit, don’t tell me,” Reyes leaned forward, palms flat on the table, eager for the final morsel, “he shot Hause?”

  “Even worse, he shot his desk. Put one right through the flag. Guards came rushing in and saw him standing there with the gun in his hand; I thought they were going to shoot him on the spot.”

  “How are you a Captain? Hell, how are you still in Genesis?” Reyes asked.

  “He almost wasn’t. Hause wanted to dump him in the Outlands. It took a lot of whiskey and a lot of me reminding our good Lord Marshal what a hero Caldwell’s daddy was. Even so, Caldwell had to spend a night in the dungeon while Hause slept on it.”

  “Must be nice to have coattails to ride,” Reyes said.

  “Jealous cause your daddy pushed dirt?” Caldwell tossed a card at Reyes’ face.

  “His work kept your belly full.”

  “Also kept me bent over the toilet a few times.”

  “Nah, don’t go blaming my pops because your ma was a shitty cook.”

  Pinkerton cleared his throat. “Gentlemen, if I may, before we get too far off base. Let’s get back to the reason we’re here.” Pinkerton wasn’t prone to saying much, but when he did, it was usually to cut through the bullshit. “These two tell me that you’ve got your eyes on Hause’s office.” He turned in his seat and was now facing Dan, an ankle propped across his knee.

  Dan was still smiling. “It’s a hell of a view, but it’s not about his office or his title.”

  Pinkerton nodded. “So what is it about? From what they’ve said, what you’re proposing sounds an awful lot like mutiny.”

  “And what have they said?” Dan scanned Reyes and Caldwell; both were boring holes through the top of the table with their eyes.

  “We just explained it to him like you explained it to us,” Reyes said.

  Caldwell gave a nod of solidarity.

  “It is my belief, and the belief of many others, that Hause is driving us towards a cliff.”

  “Others?” Pinkerton questioned.

  “The men. They want less talk and more action,” Dan said.

  Caldwell nodded. “I’ve heard a lot of my boys whispering. They’re not happy about the Lord Marshal’s indecisiveness. They want blood for the men we’ve lost and they want it now; to hell with this push for peace. They feel like the Rebels are kicking us in the teeth and the Lord Marshal is tying our hands.”

  “Widows aren’t too happy either, let me tell you. Knowing that the men that killed their husbands are still roaming free…well…it doesn’t sit right with them,” Reyes added.

  “A lot of people are starting to question whether the Lord Marshal is fit to hold office,” Dan said.

  “That seems to be overstating it a bit, don’t you think? We have that Rebel in the dungeon. When is he due to be executed?”

  “Two days,” Caldwell said, holding up a pair of fingers.

  “In two days, justice will be done and Genesis will have its required allotment of blood. The rumbling will quiet down after that, I’m sure of it. Don’t you want justice for your daughter and for Perkins?” Pinkerton asked.

  Dan felt his stomach drop at the mention of his daughter. “Of course I want justice, but that’s not justice. They stole our fucking gold and slaughtered dozens of our men. Do you think the Saboteur did all of that on his own? And they still have my daughter.”

  “Defense Minister,” Reyes’ voice sounded as if it were coming from the other side of a closed door, “I hate to say it, but perhaps your daughter is—”

  “Then don’t fucking say it!” The table went up on two legs as he lunged towards Reyes.

  “Whoa, calm down. Let’s just take it easy.” Pinkerton gently urged Dan back into his chair. “He didn’t mean anything by it. But we’re soldiers, Dan. We’ve got to think about these things strategically, we can’t make decisions of this magnitude based off of emotion.”

  “I apologize, Reyes. I was out of line.” Dan wasn’t usually prone to outbursts. He left that particular trait for the Lord Marshal, a man infamous for spraying his emotions across anyone in his path. Dan’s anger was usually much more focused; he could remove and replace the cap at will.

  “It’s your daughter. No apology needed.”

  “Even if my daughter is…” he couldn’t bring himself to say the word, “there’s still the coin. There’s still the matter of our men. The Rebels are shitting in our mouths and we’re chewing, swallowing, and asking for more. We can’t just stand by.”

  “The people of Genesis are tired, Dan. We’ve had entire generations live and die, knowing only war. If we can avoid more bloodshed, then why not try?”

  “Are these your words or the Lord Marshal’s? There is a striking similarity.”

  “If these were the Lord Marshal’s words, I daresay, you’d be in chains right now.”

  “Careful, Pinkerton, I still hold rank.”

  “Of course, Defense Minister, I was under the impression we were speaking plainly.” Pinkerton had as much history with Hause as Dan did. They’d probably eaten just as many dinners together. It was chance that’d put Dan a step up on the totem pole. Dan knew that swaying Pinkerton was going to be a challenge. Hause was his friend. Dan could appreciate the sentiment; he still held fond feelings for Hause as well. But fond feelings or not, Hause was their Lord Marshal, he was responsible for leading them. And right now, he was doing a shit job of it.

  “We are speaking plainly, so hear me when I say that Perkins was more than a colleague, he was our dear friend. I think each and every man at this table can attest to that.” Dan’s proclamation was confirmed by nods and grunts. Even Pinkerton seemed to collapse a little under the memory of his fallen comrade.

  “I went by to see Amanda the other day,” Caldwell announced.

  “How is she?” Pinkerton crossed his arms over his narrow chest, his one good eye watching the wall behind Caldwell’s head.

  “She says she’s alright. But she looks beat to shit. The kids still don’t know wh
at happened; they think daddy is out saving the world.”

  “Damn,” Reyes muttered.

  Dan held his arms up in exasperation. “And we’re okay with that?” His eyes fell on each of them. They looked ashamed, all except for Pinkerton; Pinkerton held his gaze. “We’re okay with the rest of the men responsible just running free, while we sit here and watch our people suffer?” Dan knew he had Caldwell and Reyes on the hook. This entire meeting was about Pinkerton. But he couldn’t get in his face, couldn’t come on too strong, or he risked getting shut down completely. Even worse, he risked Pinkerton exposing them to Hause.

  Pinkerton dabbed at his ruined eye socket with the knuckle of his index finger. “I think all of us are sore about Perkins. We’re sore about your daughter and the coin. We’re sore about the other men that were killed out there. But at the end of the day, you, me, everyone at this table, we serve the people of Genesis.” The idealism was oozing from Pinkerton’s pores; he was an older, more broken down, version of Lerah. “The reality here is that the people are ready for peace and stability. They’re happy to see one man swing for the crimes of many, it’s cathartic, they can transfer all of their angst onto his bloated corpse and move on with their lives.”

  “Not everyone is happy. Our men aren’t happy. The widows aren’t happy,” Dan said.

  “The men fall in line,” Pinkerton said. “The widows are a single voice among many.”

  “Okay, you’re right, let the people of Genesis decide. But let them decide from a place of truth, not with lies serving as the guideposts.”

  “The job of the Lord Marshal is to lead the people. Don’t you think he has the same desire for blood and vengeance that the four of us have?”

  Dan shook his head. “No, I don’t.”

  Pinkerton dismissed him with a wave of his hand. “Hause knows Genesis. He’s got a read on the pulse. Genesis can’t handle another war. Not right now. And it’s not because we couldn’t win it. We have the men. No, it’s because this entire society is liable to come apart at the seams. There are enough wives without husbands and children without fathers, we don’t need more.”

  “That’s not the reason and you know it. Hause is the one that can’t handle another war. He’s afraid of stirring the pot and losing his place at the top. He’s obsessed with this push for peace because it’s safe. He’s going to leave us destitute and weak. Did you hear that he’s already gathering more coin from the coffers?”

  “I did. There will be much more security attached this time. Our best men—”

  “Do the people know that their coin and the blood of their men are being sprinkled across the Outland so frivolously?”

  It wasn’t a question that required an answer, but that didn’t stop Pinkerton from trying. “They know the broad strokes. The people of Genesis trust us to act with their best interest in mind; they don’t want the gory details.”

  “If they knew the true cost, I don’t think they’d see it as being in their best interest, gory details or not.”

  “I’m with Dan on this.” Caldwell had his chin in his hands. “Seeing Perkins’ wife like that, seeing the other families…I know I don’t want any more of my friend’s lives being gambled on the Lord Marshal’s peace. We’ve tried the new way. It’s time to go back to the old.”

  Reyes nodded. “Agreed. Plus, you’ve gotta question the Lord Marshal’s judgment. Working with that Saboteur was a terrible call. I know I’d have never done it. It’s just a shame Lerah was forced to get caught up in it. You know, Dan, none of the men hold her responsible for what happened to Perkins and his men.”

  “Why would they?” Dan could feel his blood start to simmer.

  “Well, you know, cause she was there and everything, and—”

  “And what could she have done? You’ve seen the Saboteur. You know what he’s capable of.”

  “No….yeah, I mean, that’s what I’m saying. Nothing she could have done.”

  Dan continued. “And the Rebels took her against her will! She’s their hostage! If there’s ever any doubt about her loyalty, you just remember that!

  “Of course, Dan…no one doubts her loyalty…the Lord Marshal is to blame if anyone is. He’s the one that put her out there with that scheming bastard.”

  Dan and the Lord Marshal had kept the truth about Perkins demise away from the public. Sure, people asked questions. There were rumors flying among the men. But they could contain rumors. The truth would have hurt everyone involved in the operation. The fact that Lerah had taken part in killing Union soldiers, alongside Dominic, wasn’t something the Lord Marshal wanted getting out. Even if it was in the defense of innocent Outlanders, it wouldn’t have been an easy pill for the public to swallow. To them, Outlander lives, innocent or not, just weren’t worth as much as Union lives. The official report said that Lerah was an unwilling spectator, forced into passivity by the Saboteur. The fact that she’d been kidnapped by the Rebels only served to reinforce that narrative.

  Pinkerton looked uncomfortable with being the odd man out. “Perhaps there’s another way. We could go to Hause. We could reason—”

  “Tried it,” Dan said. “I got threatened with shackles and iron bars. Hause is paranoid right now. He’s striking out at anything he perceives as a threat to this false stability he’s trying to construct.”

  “I’m not really sure what you want from me. I understand where you’re coming from. But he’s the Lord Marshal. Do you want a civil war in the Towers? Haven’t enough of our men died?”

  “I believe we can do this without a shot being fired. Between the four of us, we can gather enough men to force him into handing over the reins. He’s not going to fight if he’s outnumbered.”

  “But Hause is popular among the people. Unless the public is on our side—”

  “Let me worry about that.” Dan stood. “Are you with us?”

  Pinkerton looked as if he were playing out the possible scenarios in his head. He was Union military through-and-through, a born strategist. Will of the people or not, he wasn’t going to intentionally place himself on the losing team. “Let’s see if you can herd the flock to your side of the fence, then we’ll talk.”

  “Fair enough, we’ll meet back here tomorrow night.”

  Handshakes were exchanged around the table and they went their separate ways.

  Dan took the staircase to the nineteenth-floor of Tower One, just below Hause’s office, and took the Skybridge over to Tower two. The plan was to cap off the evening at Pepper’s Pub with a drink, or four, and fall into bed. He needed the alcohol if only to dull the sound of the ticking clock in his head.

  Two days until Dominic’s execution.

  Two days until he lost his only chance at getting Lerah back.

  Hause wasn’t stupid. He was playing the game two steps ahead. The dungeon was locked down tight. Men loyal to the Lord Marshal (six in total) watched the entrance day and night. There was also Buddy and Loviatar to contend with. Breaking Dominic out wasn’t in the cards. He’d end up dead or in a cell right beside him if he tried.

  He needed men.

  He needed guns.

  Genesis had plenty of both.

  3

  Lerah was lying on the black beach. Her hands were bound above her head, her shirt was torn open, and she was naked from the waist down. The sky had grown darker. The fires up and down the beach had been extinguished. The Rebels slept.

  Footsteps approached. She didn’t stir. Whether it was another drooling animal coming to use her for pleasure or death coming to unshackle her from the burden of life, she didn’t care. There was nothing more for them to take. The only adventure left for her existed beyond the constraints of the mortal world and she welcomed it with open arms.

  She turned her head away from the shadowy visitor and attempted to draw breath through clotted nostrils. “Do me a favor and get it over with quickly, I’m trying to sleep.”

  “Lerah,” the squeaky whisper was familiar, “it’s Hawthorne. I brought you
some clothes and food.”

  “Get the fuck out of here, kid. Let me die in peace.”

  “The food is some leftover stew. The clothes were just layin’ around, ain’t no one gonna miss ‘em.”

  “Clothes and food, what’s the point?” She drew a sandpaper tongue across chapped lips.

  He shifted closer and she felt the weight of his shadow fall across her. “Can’t be comfortable layin’ on this sand like that. Besides, don’t you want to be decent?”

  “Yeah, Hawthorne,” tears welled in her eyes, “I want to be decent.”

  “Alright then, let’s get you up.” He placed an arm beneath her knees. “You mind if I…”

  She arched her back without saying a word.

  He curved his other arm behind her, clasped his hand around her waist, and lifted her into a sitting position. He began working the clothes across her limbs. She gave herself over, lacking the energy to resist, allowing him to manipulate her however he needed to. “I’m not tryin’ to put hands on you improper or nothin’.” He got the pants up around her waist and gave a satisfied sigh. “We got one part down. I had to finagle the shirt a little bit, seeing as how you’re all bound up. It sits below your arms and ties up front. It ain’t nothin’ special, but it’ll do the job of covering what needs to be covered.” He reached out, keeping his elbows flared and his body arched as he wrapped the piecemeal shirt behind her back, doing his best to avoid any accidental contact with her breasts. “I got to tie it…”

  “Just…stop talking and do it. I trust you.”

  His hands froze. “You do?”

  “Sure. Why the hell not?”

  He began tying the shirt. His fingers moved slow and careful. Despite the new clothes, she felt no less exposed. She wanted to be alone, to crawl back inside herself. His kindness was an unwelcome breeze, rocking her chilly shelter, threatening to remind her that she was still human.

  Somewhere on the north side of the beach, a baby’s cry shattered the stillness of the night.

  “Probably Margie’s little one, she doesn’t seem to be able to get through the night yet.” Hawthorne was weaving the final strings together, his fingers shaking.