“Yeah, well, it’s only fair, I guess. If it weren’t for me you’d still be a security guard in Vegas, and you’d still have both your legs.”
I actually chuckled.
LORENZO
Ostrava, Czech Republic
Three weeks later . . .
Europe was in chaos. It was like Kat’s bomb had set off every simmering bit of built-up anger and resentment on the whole continent. There were riots in every major city. And then there were counterprotests that turned violent because people were sick of the rioters’ bullshit. Militant assholes used the chaos to strike. Governments cracked down on threats, both real and imagined. In my old life it was exactly the kind of volatile situation that I would have found a way to take advantage of.
But I was retired. And this time, I meant it.
I hadn’t seen Exodus since the night everything fell apart. Antoine had gotten hurt, but Skunky had taken a bullet to the chest at Evangeline, and had been touch and go for several days. Reaper’s war-criminal doctor network had gotten a little richer, but Skunky had pulled through. Exodus had gotten out of France their own way after that. As for my brother, I had not even gotten to tell him goodbye before he’d gone to the U.S. Embassy and started raising hell. Before he had turned himself in, he had made a bunch of calls, so there were enough law enforcement and intelligence VIPs there watching like hawks to make sure Majestic didn’t just murder him.
After I had gotten patched up, Jill and I had fled the country too. I told myself if I hadn’t just been used as Anders’ punching bag I might have felt up to trying to relieve the decapitated Illuminati of some of their wealth, but to be honest, my heart just wasn’t in it. So we had headed east until the rioting stopped and we found a quiet place to hide out. Jill and I were both still a mess, and we spent most of our time lying in bed and healing. Reaper caught up a few days later, and tried to take care of us. He was a terrible nurse.
Jill kept healing, and one day while she was watching the news, and they were showing something about London—and it wasn’t a smoking radioactive crater—it finally sank in what we had accomplished, what she had spent a year fighting for. She looked over, tears in her eyes, and didn’t have to say a word. I went over and held her, and that was the day she began to forgive herself for being human and having to make a call.
She was going to be okay. We were going to be okay.
It kind of blew my mind thinking about it. Valentine, Skunky, his buddy Tailor, and me; four former Switchblade mercenaries, all trained by Hawk, brought together by crazy coincidence, and we’d changed the course of history. I knew Hawk would be proud. Hell, I think even Decker would have been proud, if he knew. If nothing else, it demonstrated how capable his guys really were.
Reaper was being even more jittery than usual, and that was saying something. But it wasn’t the pensive, mopey, afraid of the dark Reaper I had been dealing with recently. He was excited about something, and after a couple weeks of relative quiet, he finally let me in on his secret.
Wincing at every step because of my ribs, Reaper had led me down the narrow stairs to the private lane behind the house we were renting. There was an unremarkable van parked there.
“Okay, Lorenzo, before you freak out, I just want you to know that this is a little scary, but I think it is the best idea I’ve ever had.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Sala Jihan is still out there. It’s about that burn on your chest. Yeah, you’ve been talking in your sleep ever since you got out. I know about the nightmares. I know you can still hear stuff occasionally, just like I can still see stuff once in a while when I close my eyes, and it scares the hell out of me, you know?”
“Sadly, I do.” I had fulfilled my part of the bargain, but I still wore the devil’s mark. One day he might decide to reclaim what he owned. “Wait, have you been watching me in my sleep?”
“Don’t worry about it. I got a message from the Oracle. She said because some of the bombs came from him, he’ll be hiding for a bit, but after that he’ll start rebuilding his empire. She said that with time she could figure out how to get him, that you could get to him.”
I still didn’t know what that girl was, but she was on the opposite side of the Pale Man, and that was good enough. “Reaper, I just want to find a home, and go there. Just me and Jill. No more of this . . . whatever it is.”
“And what if the Pale Man decides he’s not done with you?”
“I can only hope we’re done with him.”
Then, grinning like a maniac, Reaper opened the van doors and showed me his souvenir from France. “What if this time we could make sure?”
Epilogue: The Blood of Patriots, and Tyrants
VALENTINE
Hays, Kansas
Three Months Later . . .
Kansas was cold and windy in January, but today was a pretty nice day. The sky was blue, the sun was shining, and I was sitting on the back porch of an old farmhouse, bundled up, sipping hot chocolate as I talked with my visitor. Tailor and I had been moved from safehouse to safehouse ever since we’d been brought back to the United States. We’d been smuggled into our own country on an Air Force C-17, and hadn’t stayed in one place for too long since. The old farmhouse was heavily guarded.
Bob Lorenzo was leaning on the railing, looking out over the snow-covered field behind the house, awkwardly trying to make small talk. “So how’s Ling?”
“She’s fine,” I said tersely. She was out of the country, far away and safe, and Bob didn’t need to know where she was.
“How’s your kid-to-be?”
Ling had told me in an encrypted email that she’d been examined by Dr. Bundt. The pregnancy was going fine so far. It was too early to tell if it was a boy or a girl. “Fine.”
“Parenthood is great. It changes everything. I sure missed my kids while I was locked up. Still do, but at least I know they’re safe. And they know I’m alive. Having children really puts things in perspective. It makes you realize the importance of leaving them a future.”
“I already agreed to testify about Majestic in exchange for a pardon, Bob. What else do you want? I’m giving my full cooperation.”
“First things first. I have something to give you. Here.” He handed me an ornate wooden case that he retrieved from an attaché case.
“What is this?” I asked. I undid the brass clasp and opened it. The case was lined with silk padding and contained some kind of medal. It hung from a long red neck ribbon, connected to an ornate badge by an enamel laurel and oak wreath. At the very center of the badge was an engraved image of a woman’s head. The inscription on the badge read, République Française. The inside of the lid had a plaque affixed to it, which read, On Behalf of The French Republic, in both English and French.
“You’ve been inducted into the National Order of the Legion of Honour, at the rank of Commandeur. It’s the same award they gave General Patton. There are similar awards, though ones of lesser rank, available to your former teammates if you ever to decide to give the French their names.”
“I don’t think that would be a good idea.”
“I understand your caution, but you saved Paris from a nuclear bomb. The whole thing is being kept secret for the time being, but they love you more than Jerry Lewis now. There’s rumblings that the British want to grant you a knighthood, too, for saving London.”
“You’d think they’d be mad I collapsed the Chunnel.”
Bob shrugged. “We’ve briefed the Ministry of Defense on everything that went down, and gave them your sworn statements. Nobody who matters thinks there was anything more you could have done. You need to quit beating yourself up.”
“Fine,” I said again. “Is this why you came all the way out here?”
“No, Valentine, it’s not. Listen, we both know that a cancer like Majestic isn’t something that can be rooted out with just hearings. They’re still out there, sinking their claws into everything, trying to rebuild their shadow governme
nt. But they’re on the ropes. This is our chance to root them out, once and for all.”
“Did the FBI give you your old job back or something?”
“No. This is bigger than the FBI. The president gets it now. He knows how dangerous Majestic is, and he wants them gone. He’s created a special task force. Since he wanted somebody motivated, and somebody he thought trustworthy, he put me in charge. Now I’m recruiting people that I can trust.” He turned around and gave me a very solemn look. “Your country needs you again, Valentine.”
I scoffed and sipped my hot chocolate. “You know, Gordon Willis told me the same damn thing. You know how that worked out for me.”
“I need people who hate Majestic just as much as I do, who know what they’re capable of, who can’t be corrupted by them.”
Is he for real right now? “So you get a secret government task force, to fight the last secret government task force that went out of control?”
“I’ve got men who can follow orders and pull a trigger, Val. I want people like you running it specifically so we don’t turn into the very thing we’re fighting against. It isn’t about just building an operation; it’s about having the courage to tear it down when we’re done.”
I looked up at him incredulously. “Do you have any idea what you’re asking me? I’ve lost friends. I was tortured. They screwed with my mind in ways I still don’t understand, I should be with the woman I love while she’s carrying my child, and let’s not forget,” I knocked on my prosthetic right leg, “I’m crippled. You want me to do more?”
“Yes,” he said, so earnestly I wanted to punch him in his big, stupid face. “I know the gravity of what I’m asking, but I also know what’s at stake. I think you do, too. Are you willing to do what it takes, or will you sit back and hope things work out for the best?”
“The question isn’t whether or not I’m willing to do what it takes. The question is, how far are you willing to go? What needs to be done won’t be pretty. It won’t be within the confines of the law. It can’t be, because they don’t operate within the law. We can’t use due process when they can corrupt the process itself so easily. In order to do what you’re suggesting, we will have to do things that are illegal, unconstitutional, and unacceptable to the American people. We’re going to have to hunt down and probably kill American citizens, and there’s no guarantee that we’ll succeed. Sure, this president says he’s on board, but as soon as things get ugly he’s liable to change his mind. Politicians won’t have the stomach for what needs to be done, and God only knows how many of them Majestic has its hooks in. Even if we do pull it off, even if we uproot Majestic from the ground up and wipe it out, then what? Now that the dirty work is done, we’re a liability. We’re a liability and sooner or later they’ll be tempted to come after us.”
Bob nodded. “I know.”
“Then why are you doing this? Why should I? What is the point if we do all of this, only to end up in prison or in an unmarked grave someplace?”
He was quiet for a long time. “Project Red tore China in half. Project Blue was supposed to do the same thing to Europe. Those aren’t the only such projects out there. There are rumors of another one, aimed at the United States itself.”
My titanium and polymer leg creaked as I leaned forward on it. “What are you talking about?”
“Project Black is the Majestic contingency plan to overthrow of the government of the United States. It was originally cooked up, way back in the 1950s, as a hypothetical failsafe in case the government was compromised by Communist agents. Well, more than half a century later, we’ve backed a rabid dog into a corner. We have no way of knowing how much of this contingency was set up, how many assets are in place, or what all it would involve. But you know what they were willing to do to China, and you saw what they were willing to do to Europe. These are the same people that left you all to die in Zubara as soon as you became a liability. These are the same people that use American citizens for science projects. You know what they’re capable of. You know what kind of state the country is in already. Something like this? It could be the end, Valentine. Your country is at stake.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“The Tree of Liberty must be refreshed, from time to time . . .”
I didn’t let him finish the quote. “Yeah, yeah, I took American History too. I said I’ll think about it.”
“I’m confident you’ll make the right choice. Mr. Tailor is already on board, and we’ve got other leads we’re chasing down. He’s trying to contact your teammate, Hudson, I think, from Dead Six. I want you to know, too, that if you do this, I’ll guarantee the safety of your family. They’ll be given the same protection as mine. So please, think it over.” He turned to leave. “Oh, there was another package for you. I left it on the table. I’ll be in touch.” He zipped up his jacket. “Stay warm. It’s a cold one, this year.”
I waited until I heard his car leave, then I limped to the kitchen. I was still going through a lot of physical therapy, learning to walk all over again. It made me glad Ling couldn’t see me like this. Standing over the package, I hesitated for just a moment. It was a plain cardboard box. No. No more fear. I snapped open my automatic knife, and cut the tape holding it closed. Bob wasn’t the type to leave a bomb or anything for turning down his offer, and the house had his people in it, guarding me. It was stupid paranoia, and some days it was a struggle to overcome it.
The box contained my Smith & Wesson 629 revolver, my custom sidearm, my lucky sixgun, completely caked in dried mud. Knocking hardened clay off of the frame, I got the cylinder open. It still had six fired brass cases in it. I was going to have to detail-strip the gun to get all the crud out.
There was also a note.
Thanks for the loaner. I used it on our mutual friend. I heard you dealt with my ex. Thanks.
I saw my brother. He made me the same offer he’s going to make you. I told him no. Any organization that would hire me is too disreputable to work for. Besides, I’ve got my own business to handle. But I know you won’t say no. You’ll take his job. I don’t know how you’ll justify it, but you will, and then you’ll go ruin some assholes’ day, because that’s what you do best. A warrior needs a war.
This time, I’ll try and stay out of your way. You need me for something, you can figure out how to reach me. I don’t say that lightly. I don’t have many friends. I consider you one of them.
I set the letter down, looked at my gunked-up gun, and sighed. I had a revolver to clean. Then I needed to call Ling, tell her I love her, and hope she wouldn’t be mad at me for taking a new job.
LORENZO
Altay Mountains, Russia
Three Years Later . . .
My message had been delivered. The face that haunted my nightmares appeared on the screen. Sala Jihan stared through me with his unnatural black eyes. Even though I was sitting in the back of a truck, upwind, twenty miles away, his gaze was still unnerving. It was like he could reach through the glass and rip out my soul. Maybe he could, I didn’t actually know.
“I warned you never to return.”
The scars on my chest burned as he said that. “The two of us had some unfinished business.”
“You have made a grave error.” He must have been holding the device too close to his face, because now all I could see was his teeth. That was somehow even worse. “You will pay for this trespass.”
“Probably.”
“Why has the son of murder called upon the Pale Man?” As he said that, he turned the camera enough that I could see the concrete walls of the missile silo he called home.
Location confirmed. “I’m returning something you lost.”
When Reaper had shown me what he had taken from France, I hadn’t believed it, at first. It was hard to comprehend the fact that my friend had stolen one of the four horsemen of the apocalypse. Guided by the Oracle, it had still taken a long time and a lot of meticulous planning to get the nuclear warhead buried into the mountainside next to Sala
Jihan’s fortress. Ariel had insisted on that to minimize fallout to the regional villages. I had been all in favor of an underground detonation, because it didn’t matter if he lived at the bottom of an impenetrable missile silo, if I dropped a whole mountain on top of him.
I opened the control box, and turned the key, and placed my finger on the red button.
“What do you think you are doing?” the Pale Man demanded.
“You once told me you like digging in the earth. Dig your way out of this.” I pushed the button. There was a roar like thunder. The earthquake hit a moment later. The screen went black.
Reaper’s voice was in my headset. “Detonation confirmed, Chief.”
VALENTINE
Flagstaff, Arizona
I leaned in the doorway of my daughter’s bedroom, watching her sleep. Sarah Mei Song-Valentine was an energetic toddler, to say the least, and she wore me out. Even after running around the house all morning, she stubbornly refused to take a nap until she was so tired she fell asleep on the floor in the middle of her toys.
My wife appeared next to me, leaned her head on my shoulder, and looked in on our daughter. “You finally got her to go to bed,” she said, quietly.
“It was a struggle today,” I said, smiling.
“It will be a struggle tomorrow,” Ling agreed. “She’s so full of energy.”
“I hope you got in a nap yourself.” She had taken Sarah to the park that morning, and apparently there were a bunch of screaming toddlers there. I was gone a lot, so I tried to do as much parenting as I could while I was home. Raising a kid was a full-time job, and I felt guilty about Ling doing it by herself so much.
Task Force 151 had kept me busy for the past three years. When Bob first approached me, on the porch of that old farmhouse in Kansas, I’d never have imagined that his proposal would grow into what the task force had become. What started as a handful of patriots grew into over a hundred, backed up clandestinely by the FBI, the CIA, the NSA, and the military. The tentacles of Majestic and its subsidiaries went farther and deeper than we ever would have guessed, too. We’d made a lot of progress in the first three years, and Majestic was on the run. Many of its key personnel were in witness protection, prison, or buried out in the desert. The president had kept his word to let us do what needed to be done, and we kept our part of the bargain by keeping him in the dark about it.
Alliance of Shadows (Dead Six Series Book 3) Page 43