Iceni shook her head. “Neither of you can bargain. I suppose it’s better that you partner each other rather than both of you wandering around waiting to be taken advantage of by someone else.”
* * *
TWENTY-FOUR hours later, Drakon was wearing his dress uniform, which was liberally salted with weapons and defensive measures that were invisible to outside appearance. He was all too aware that for every defense there was a countermeasure, and any weapon was useless unless you got a chance to employ it.
Surrounded by bodyguards, he walked into the Presidential complex. The bodyguards took up positions guarding doors and hallways as he walked, their numbers gradually dwindling until Drakon reached the last door alone.
Colonel Bran Malin waited there. Just Malin. That felt wrong, after so many years in which Malin and Morgan had been Drakon’s right and left hands. But he had never broken faith with her. She was not here today because of Morgan’s own choices.
Drakon could not help worrying about what choices Morgan might make today.
Malin saluted, looking as happy as Drakon had ever seen him. It wasn’t much in the way of joy, but for Malin it was a lot. “This is an important moment,” he said.
“I like to think so,” Drakon said.
Malin blinked as if trying to understand the joke. “Oh. Yes. For you and for President Iceni. But also in terms of creating a stable governing structure—”
“Thank you, Bran. That’s not why we’re doing it. Anything to report?”
He shook his head. “No sign of either of them, sir.”
“Bran, if there is anyone in this universe who might understand what Morgan is up to, it would be you.” Drakon saw Malin stiffen a bit more, plainly unhappy at having his relationship to Morgan mentioned. “How much do I have to worry about her? Because I would much rather focus on worrying about Togo.”
Malin did not answer for a long moment. “Morgan would never do anything that she did not think was in your best interests,” he finally said. “As you are fully aware, General, her judgment on what is in your best interests can be seriously flawed. She will not attack you. But she may attack anyone who she thinks is a hindrance to you.”
“Did she ever seriously attempt to kill you, Bran?”
Another long pause. “Not in cold blood. There were a few times, of which you are aware, when Morgan’s temper nearly led to that.”
Drakon weighed his next words carefully. “I want you to know something. I’ve been thinking about you and Morgan, and every action you’ve participated in. There were a lot of opportunities that Morgan could have used to bring about your death, Bran. Times when she could have paused for a second or two before acting, times when she could have gone left instead of right, times when she could have chosen other targets. But she never did.”
“She didn’t want the blame, General,” Malin said. “She didn’t want to alienate you, not until her plans were far enough along.”
“I suppose that’s possible.” Drakon, knowing that if either Togo or Morgan had planned something, it would take place very soon, felt a reluctance to set things into motion by moving ahead. “There’s something else. We’ve blamed a lot of the problems in the Syndicate on the Syndicate mind-set. The idea that all that matters is profit and efficiency, that self-interest is the ultimate good. But Togo and Morgan are acting out of a different mind-set, personal loyalty to either me or President Iceni, and that’s producing the same results.”
Malin shook his head. “No, sir. Both Morgan and Togo would declare that they are motivated by personal loyalty, but both are, in my opinion, merely using either you or President Iceni as tools for their own ambitions.”
“And what about you, Colonel?”
“I hope I am motivated by higher goals, General, but I do not pretend to lack flaws, and personal delusion may be among them,” Malin said, perfectly serious.
“I’ve met far worse people, Bran. I’m grateful to have worked with you. Before we go in, I want you to understand that if an attack goes down and you have to choose between protecting President Iceni or me, you choose her. Is that clear?”
Malin nodded. “I feel obligated to advise you, sir, that President Iceni has already ordered me to give your protection priority over her.”
For some reason, that struck Drakon as funny. “I guess you’ll just have to use your best judgment if it comes to that. All right. I’ve stalled long enough. Let’s go.” They entered the room, Malin in the lead as he scanned for threats, Drakon trying to do the same but losing his concentration when he saw Gwen Iceni in a practical but exceedingly flattering outfit. Her clothing was probably laced with as many defenses and weapons as Drakon’s, but there was no way of telling that from where he stood.
Bradamont, Rogero, and Colonel Gozen entered as well to serve as official witnesses, but all of them had more eyes for their surroundings than for the couple. Drakon wondered just how many weapons were now in this room.
“The sooner, the better,” Gwen said, with a look at him that told Drakon how much the tension was unnerving her as well. He walked up beside her and they stood before the scanner to register their commitment. It felt very odd to be making such a personal decision on a standard-looking form with touch-sensitive check boxes for things like “duration of commitment” and “number of previous commitments.”
He was reaching toward the scanner when an explosion elsewhere in the building caused the room to shudder.
“Diversion!” Malin, Rogero, and Gozen all yelled at once, weapons appearing in their hands.
Drakon’s defensive array sounded an alert.
“EMP burst outside the room,” Malin reported. “The upgraded shields stopped it.”
“Reports of penetration attempts at the east perimeter,” Rogero said. “I can’t confirm whether the reports are accurate.”
Everything that had happened, every threat trying to draw their attention, was outside this room. Which meant—
“Someone is already inside,” Iceni cried, having reached the same conclusion as Drakon.
Out of the corner of his eye Drakon saw part of the inside wall begin to move.
Drakon could never afterward sort out the sequence of everything that happened next. In his mind, it all seemed to take place at once. Only by reviewing security scans later was he able to break things down into a sequence.
Togo, in a chameleon suit that he had modified to fool sensors designed to spot it, swung one arm up to aim at Drakon.
Drakon’s reflexes shoved a ready weapon into his hand, but the hand was still pointed toward the table.
Iceni lurched forward to block Togo’s line of fire, another weapon in her hand but also a wide arm swing away from being able to target Togo.
Malin already had a weapon out and almost on target, but he was so close to Iceni that Togo only had to shift his aim very slightly to put two shots into Malin before Malin could fire.
Another shot tore over Malin’s shoulder as he fell, aimed at Togo but too high to hit him. Morgan had appeared out of nowhere, only to find that her line of fire was blocked by Malin. Later they discovered that she had burrowed through from a maintenance shaft, bypassing all alarms and defeating all barriers, breaking into the room just as the firing began. Instead of simply firing through Malin as Drakon would have expected of her, Morgan wasted one shot over his shoulder, then took a precious moment of time to sidestep more slowly than her usual deadly speed to get a clear shot at Togo.
Togo didn’t pause for even that moment. He was firing quickly and with terrible accuracy. Malin staggered as two more rounds impacted on his head and chest, but he still got off one shot of his own before he fell.
Malin’s shot smashed into Togo’s shoulder, but Togo kept firing remorselessly with his other hand, swinging his barrel to cover Morgan. That moment spent clearing her line of fire cost Morgan dearly as several shots to
re into her, but she still managed to fire three times, knocking Togo back with the impacts.
Before Morgan could hit the floor, Iceni and Rogero had pistols aimed at her, while Gozen and Drakon had lined up on Togo. Neither Iceni nor Rogero fired at Morgan as her limp form fell, but Drakon and Gozen shot rapidly, riddling Togo despite defensive elements in his suit that deflected a number of shots.
Pinned to the wall by the impacts, Togo dropped to his knees, even in death his expression betraying no clues to how he felt before he slammed face-first to the floor.
Her weapon sweeping the room in case of other threats, Gozen cautiously approached Togo.
Rogero knelt by Malin, checking for any signs of life.
Bradamont, her own weapon finally out, had moved to put her body between Iceni and where Morgan lay.
“Are you all right, Gwen?” Drakon asked Iceni, not taking his eyes or his weapon from Togo’s fallen body.
“I’m fine,” she said calmly. “Help is on the way.”
Gozen had almost reached Togo when his body twitched. She emptied the rest of her clip into him to ensure the almost unstoppable Togo wouldn’t be getting up again.
Several quick strides took Drakon to where Morgan lay. As Drakon moved he heard Rogero’s strained voice. “Colonel Malin is dead, sir.”
Drakon knelt next to Morgan, his gaze racing over the terrible wounds on her and coming to rest on her eyes, where the light of awareness somehow still gleamed. Those eyes rested on Drakon. “. . . got him?” Morgan managed to barely whisper.
“Togo is dead,” Drakon said, slowly and clearly, wanting to be sure she understood.
“For . . . you.” One of Morgan’s hands was still locked on her pistol, but the other relaxed from a fist, allowing a bloodied data coin to roll out onto the floor and drop to lie flat. “Ours . . . raise . . . her . . . Gen . . . ral.”
“I will,” Drakon promised. If Morgan had been carrying that data coin, she must have believed that she would not survive this mission. “Medics are on the way.”
Morgan’s eyes rolled to one side as if trying to see into the room. “Ma . . . lin?”
“Bran Malin is dead.”
“Damn.” The word was barely audible. “I . . . al . . . ways . . . knew . . .”
Drakon saw the light go from her eyes and bowed his head, remembering the young officer who had joined his staff and served him so well for so long. He wished he remembered some of the beliefs that the Syndicate had worked to stomp out, that he remembered enough to say the right words to plead for Morgan’s spirit. The reality of Malin’s death hit home at the same moment, and he sent a wordless plea to whatever might be out there to welcome them both.
What had her last words meant? If it had been the old days, Drakon had no doubt they would have ended with a contemptuous dismissal. I always knew he’d fail, or something like that.
But even in the immediate aftermath of the exchange of fire, Drakon knew that Morgan could have gotten off the first shot, could possibly have killed Togo in that instant. But she had instead chosen to avoid hitting Malin.
Had she been about to say that she had always known that Malin was her son? When faced with the ultimate choice, had she sacrificed herself for him?
He would never know.
Drakon picked up the data coin carefully and stood, looking over at Iceni. “Are you sure you’re all right, Gwen?”
“Not a scratch.” She put away her own weapon as guards and on-call medics finally stormed into the room.
One medic checked Malin and immediately confirmed Rogero’s assessment.
“He’s gone. Zero recovery chance.”
Another medic checked Togo and unsurprisingly announced that he was also beyond help.
A third reached Morgan and quickly scanned her. The medic gave Drakon an anxious look. “She has died, with multiple critical injuries, but there’s a chance we could revive her and keep her going, sir. Not high, but it’s there.”
Drakon looked down on Morgan’s still face. Was it just his imagination that saw there a serenity she had never revealed in her stormy life? “No. Don’t try a revival.”
Perhaps Morgan had not finally found her own peace. But as long as there was any chance that she had, he would not haul her back.
“Sir,” the medic said as he got up, “I should mention that she’s also got a badly healed injury to one leg that must have slowed her down, but that happened probably a few months ago. A rebuild unit could have fixed her up, but it would have required a few weeks of immobility to repair that much damage.”
“Colonel Morgan clearly didn’t think she could spare that amount of time immobilized,” Drakon said. He could easily imagine her shrugging when asked about it. “I had things I needed to do, General.”
Iceni came to stand beside him as the medics left, looking down at Morgan. “She saved your life.”
“Our lives.”
“No. Togo was trying to kill you, not me. Just as we thought. Right to the end he thought he was being loyal to me. But, from her position in this room, Morgan might have been planning to take me out. See? Look at the lines of sight. That meant she was slightly out of position to target Togo, but saving you was more important to her than killing me.”
Drakon wanted to argue the point, but knew Iceni might well be right. “Two assassins who canceled each other out, and poor Bran Malin who took the shots that would have killed me.” His gaze met Iceni’s eyes. “He would have done the same for you.”
“I know, and he did do it for me as well as for you. Malin took many risks for us. Without him as an intermediary to establish covert contact between us, we never would have worked together and would have both died at the hands of the snakes instead of successfully rebelling.” She pointed to the bloodied data coin. “What’s that?”
He looked at it. “Unless I miss my guess, this contains directions for finding my daughter and getting to her safely. Morgan . . . asked me to raise her.”
Iceni paused, then nodded. “I couldn’t ask you to abandon your daughter.”
Drakon shook his head in reply. “I couldn’t ask you to accept the daughter of myself and Morgan as our own.”
“Excuse me, but I couldn’t ask you first. She is your daughter, too.” Iceni tilted her head to indicate where Malin’s body lay. “And he was her son. Obviously, her blood has some good qualities.” She shifted her gaze from the body of Morgan to that of Togo, then to Malin. “What exactly were they loyal to, Artur? Their own dreams. To what they thought we were, you and I. To what, in their eyes, we could become. The past lies dead around us. You and I need to continue to create the future that we want to see.”
“We couldn’t have achieved a chance at that future without their help,” Drakon said. “They made it possible. And then it passed them by.”
Gwen Iceni reached out and took his hand. “I won’t let another innocent suffer, Artur Drakon. There’s been too much of that. Find your daughter, and we will raise her as ours. Someday, she will be the sword and the shield that protects what you and I have built.”
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Shattered Spear Page 35