by Byrd, Daniel
Doe thought on it. “Counting the civilians? A lot.”
“Damn.” Houseman started to leave the room while Doe grabbed a nearby Air Force Second Colonel.
“I want you to have all stationed squadrons ready to fly on a moment’s notice. The 135th Squadron is to be kept grounded until help is needed. Keep them on alert, just in case.”
“Understood.” The colonel left the command room, which was boiling over with anxiety over the new threat.
Chapter Twenty-Two - Rethink
Max didn't know what to think of the situation. In the span of a day he and Jackson had been practically kidnapped, shot at, nearly blown up, and now they were watching another poor soul learn that he too was in deep shit. The woman’s friend had finally woken up a little while ago, and she was busy filling him in and trying to convince him not to go for a weapon. After he'd calmed down they began discussing something about Italy that Max didn't really pay much attention to. Those two were currently upstairs in a bedroom while he and Jackson sat in the den bouncing questions off of one another. Max found himself fixated on the fear that the old man and his friend were about to just kill them all.
Jackson was taking the whole thing in stride, but when Max thought about it he didn't really seem to freak out a lot over much. It was his calm mind that got them out of nearly being killed twice in Berlin. Then again, they had Mr. Mikhail to thank for the second time. At the moment, all six of them were in an old, dusty house somewhere near the border of Germany and Poland. The helicopter they'd arrived in quickly departed the scene as night fell. Jackson wanted to get a feel for the area, but Mikhail had assured him that the living room was nice enough for the time being. It was, minus the lack of everything from a radio to a TV. There was no way to contact the outside world, and that was the only concern Jackson seemed to have.
“Houseman is already going to have me killed, but he's sure to torch the country to find out where the hell we are, and if the doctor made it safely.”
“Zach, we’re already AWOL. I don't think there's much more to worry about beyond that, really.”
Jackson stretched his arms along the back of the couch and leaned back, staring up at the ceiling while he let his mind go and drive the consequences deeper into his thoughts. Max was about to say something else when the sound of footsteps on hard wood came from the direction of the hallway. It was the guy called Roman.
“Americans? Mikhail will be in shortly to speak with you.”
“Russian? Fuck off,” Jackson replied without even bothering to look directly at the man. Max prepared for the worst, but Roman simply walked away further into the house.
“Zach, can you not pick a fight with the guys who saved us, please?”
“I'll pick a fight with everyone until I get answers. Those two knew to be there, so I say they tell us what they know.”
Max had thought about it too. Mikhail and Roman knew something was going down in Berlin. The question was how? Judging from their briefing back in Philadelphia, the only people who knew of the operation other than the the United States Military were the Germans, and that was only the former were operating within their borders. How did two Russians know about the meeting?
Someone was walking above them. Another pair of footsteps soon followed, both traveling downstairs before entering the den. The pink-haired woman and her friend had arrived. He was still wearing his dirty suit, and looked to be about Jackson’s age. The way he talked sounded like he was pretty peppy about the situation, but there was no telling if he was just trying to keep face.
“So,” the woman’s friend began, “we haven't really gotten a chance to meet. U.S. soldiers, huh?”
Neither Jackson nor Max answered him. The awkward silence clung to the air before the woman cleared her throat.
“You two are far from home. Care to explain that?” Again, the two said nothing. “Fine, but right now I'm having a hard time trusting anyone here. Two soldiers and those two Russians? Add us in and we have a nice trio of duos who don’t know anything about one another.”
“Wrench, right?” Jackson asked. When she nodded, he looked around to make sure the other two weren’t nearby. “Just who are you two anyway? Come on, we're not those guys. Hell, we’re not even really military anymore.” Wrench and her friend exchanged nervous glances. She shook her head as he shrugged his shoulders. Jackson frowned, but carried on, “Look, right now we’re all three separate parties with our own ideas. We're going to have to piece things together soon if we want to be ahead of those two.”
“That will not be necessary.”
Everyone in the room froze. Mikhail was standing on the other side of the room near the kitchen entrance. His good eye glassed the scene while the four present tried to look innocent.
“I believe we should all talk, yes? I currently have Roman preparing tea, so let us become acquainted. I am Mikhail Guskov. I already know two of you in here, but why don't you all share?” He looked to Lydia. “Real names.”
“I'm Zachary Jackson,” Jackson started with his hand raised, “and I'm not an alcoholic.”
Max rolled his eyes. “Max Dawson.”
The pink-haired girl smiled. “Wrench. Sorry, but I’m sticking to that until I know more.” She was still giggling over Jackson’s comment. Her friend crossed his arms before speaking.
“I shouldn't have to tell you anything, you know?”
Mikhail chuckled. “You do not have to say anything to me, Aaron Craven of Kriegspartei Industries.”
Aaron's face melted into shock. “How the fuck do you know that?!” Mikhail held a hand up for calm.
“I will speak to you and your friend in another room, please. If you will follow me into the kitchen where Roman is.”
Max nudged Jackson, who only shushed him as the three strangers left them alone in the den.
“What do we do?” Max asked him.
“I've got an idea.” Jackson carefully got up from the couch and took his boots off, before tiptoeing slowly behind them. Max leaned forward and watched as Jackson carried on with one of the dumbest things he'd ever done.
***
Mikhail led Aaron and Lydia into a dimly lit kitchen with one buzzing light overhead. The sound of a tea kettle boiling took over the silence in the room.
“We have unfinished business, young one,” Mikhail told Aaron.
Aaron went from angry to confused. There wasn't much of a line to cross there at the moment. “What the hell are you talking about?”
Mikhail held up a finger. “Do you remember a man you were supposed to meet roughly a year ago in Italy?”
Aaron got stuck on that thought, but as he turned to Lydia, her face reminded him. “In Italy…I…”
“I believe the meeting was considered off the books for you.” Mikhail pointed his cane at Aaron’s chest. “You were to sell a few weapons to a man with no true name who offered a large sum of money.”
Realization seized Aaron. “The man in the suit who was shot in the town square. It was how all of it started, how-”
“Aaron!” Lydia warned as she jabbed her elbow into his chest. “Hush!”
Mikhail nodded. “Yes, the man in the suit who was assassinated, and the shooter never found. The Carabinieri were forced to act, and bombs were discovered in unoccupied buildings near the site. The person the dead man was supposed to meet disappeared, and I never received my equipment from him. I only had a picture to go by so that who I sent would know. It was all you gave me to go by besides a location.”
Aaron stepped forward. “You were the one I made the sale to?” Mikhail nodded. “So the man who died, because…” Aaron stared at Lydia, who was hiding her face.
“Because he was assassinated by a sniper, yes.” Mikhail grabbed a cup of tea from Roman. “He was essentially one of my middle men. He never returned, and I noticed his name make the headlines in that scuffle. I was forced to relocate myself at the time over that ordeal.”
“He was a friend,” the other guy spoke, eyes
still on the cups he was pouring tea into.
“Indeed he was, Roman,” Mikhail affirmed.
“I didn't intend for him to die,” Aaron explained, “it was just-”
“An unfortunate event?” Mikhail asked, “Where did you disappear to, Mr. Craven?”
This time the other Russian gave him a stern look. Aaron considered reaching for the .45 in his shoulder holster, but with the soldiers in the other room he didn't know how any of this would go down. Mikhail’s eye was burning into him, like it was searching for an answer inside of him.
“Look, it wasn't my fault! Besides, I didn't steal the money! The police confiscated it from next to his body! Then I got pulled into some shit with Tiamat Unbound that day, and-”
Mikhail’s eye widened. “Tiamat Unbound?”
“Yeah, you know, the PMC-”
“We are aware of the defunct organization,” Roman commented with distaste as he sat the kettle down. “What do you know?”
Aaron’s stomach knotted. “Look, I’ll talk, just don’t kill us, please?”
Lydia grunted in disgust as her hand moved to grab her pistol, but Roman already had his out at his side, waiting. The bastard was sneaky.
“You have a shady history already, Mr. Craven,” Roman explained, “so forgive me if I find it hard to understand why else an arms dealer was in a city that just blew up.”
“Why would we kill you?” Mikhail inquired, eye shifting from one to the other. Aaron tried this hardest not to turn his head to Lydia as he spoke.
“Because I’m not responsible for killing your friend. Look, the drop was going as planned until he was shot through the head. I was a greedy fuck, so why was I going to blow my reputation by shooting a man out in the open with people all around us? I didn’t do it! It was…” He caught himself. In a sense, he wasn’t wrong. That situation was, after all, how he was introduced to the expert shot of a woman to his left. It was hard not to consider her the ruin of his normal life before that day. Selling firearms and doing shady business was one thing. Taking down a rising world power and getting into shit like this was another terrible one. Mikhail wasn’t through with them.
“Do you have any affiliations with them?”
This time Lydia spoke up, and fast. “No, we don’t! Look, I’m responsible for Aaron here being alive. When the attack happened, I took him in.”
Roman stepped forward, hand tightening around the gun in his hand. “And who are you, really?”
“The proud daughter of a Spetsnaz agent who died in his later years fighting jihads, but not because of them.” She shook her head. “No, because of those mercenary bastards. They killed him right before me! They…” her hands balled into fists. Aaron forgot about the other two. Even he didn’t know the full story there.
“Roman, I believe we are among allies.” Mikhail finally spoke. “They can be trusted to know.”
“Despite the evidence?” Roman asked. “Also, Spetsnaz? She could be the child of someone we've wronged, Mikhail. I do not trust any of these people.”
“There is much to know on all sides,” Mikhail stated. “With everything as is, I believe we can have a civil discussion about these circumstances, no?”
Roman finished preparing the tea and placed the cups on a saucer. With a sigh, he finally spoke, “Perhaps. Should we take the discussion into the other room so that the Americans can stop eavesdropping?”
***
Jackson swore under his breath and quickly crept back to the couch, putting his boots on as the others entered. Everyone took a seat while Roman began going around with the saucer. Max cautiously accepted a cup and looked at the liquid, before noticing that Jackson was doing the same.
“Roman did not poison your tea,” Mikhail assured them.
Jackson leaned towards Max and spoke out of the corner of his mouth. “I’m more worried that the asshole spit in it.”
Roman set the saucer down on the coffee table and took a seat in an armchair off to the side by a window, where he could keep an eye on everything. Max wondered if he was waiting for the right moment to shoot one of them. Mikhail cleared his throat.
“Now, let us all relax and drink.” He reached into a pocket inside of his coat and withdrew a flask. After pouring some of whatever was in it into his tea, he stirred it with is finger before taking a sip. “That is better. So, you all wish to know what is going on as well, yes?”
Everyone only nodded, wary to what this old man might say. He sat his cup down and crossed his fingers over his cane as he gazed at the others.
“You are all so young. Yet here we are, facing a world-ending crisis that has brought us together.”
“I would not agree,” Roman commented from the window seat, his eyes outside as he peered past the curtains. “I would call this many failures culminating into one big disappointment. The failure of the United States, the failure of the Allies who invaded war-torn Germany, and-”
“Whatever the fuck you two were planning,” Jackson added. Roman still had his fingers on the curtain as he shifted his head to glare at him.
“None of that matters,” Mikhail insisted, “what is important is that my fears have been realized. Tiamat Unbound is not gone.”
“What?” Lydia leaned forward, leering at the old man. “It was in the news. They fell apart a year ago and the UN swept in and cleaned up the rest.” Not to mention the fact that she'd just been insulted by that statement. It took everything to bring those assholes down, and she was supposed to think that it was all for nothing? Sure, they were after Lewis with good reason, but not the entire company of mercenaries? There was no coming back from being shut down that hard.
“You were not in Berlin, so I do not expect you to understand. Those two,” Mikhail pointed to Jackson and Max, “can attest to what I am saying.”
Lydia focused her anger on them now. Max tried to shrink down in the cushion while Jackson’s head rose suddenly.
“Those guys in the red and black armor!” Mikhail nodded. “That's…I mean, we've heard of Tiamat Unbound back home. They became corrupt and started causing conflicts worldwide. They made the news for two incidents back in our country alone.”
Max remembered. “The explosion in that building in Pittsburgh, and the terrorist attack in the subway by Wall Street.”
“That is correct.” Mikhail took another sip of his unknown concoction. “That private military company was proving to be a disaster to everyone. It is a shame, really. I believe that the founder had many good intentions when it all began.”
Lydia choked on her tea. She’d killed the bitch herself. To her, Elizabeth Belmont was just a crook who had it coming. She built her kingdom atop the lives of others, and Lydia was just glad that she was one of the few who helped to bring it crashing down. Sure, it was cold-blooded murder no matter how you looked at it, but Tiamat Unbound had torn lives apart. The woman deserved death, even if it would sit on Lydia’s shoulders forever as a weighted guilt of shooting a woman who had lost the will to fight back as her legacy burned around her. Now this man was trying to say that their efforts were in vain.
“In any case,” Mikhail continued, “there is something important that you all should know. Roman, that means you as well.”
Roman kept his attention outside, but Mikhail didn’t wait to see if he was listening. “I have many informants, and one of them is inside of an organization now. That is how I learned of the event taking place in Berlin.”
Jackson nodded, happy to have one answer. It was starting to look like this was going somewhere after all. Roman didn’t take that information lightly, turning around in his chair to face them all.
“You have someone on the inside?!”
“Calm down, Roman. I did not want to threaten his cover. He is former KGB, and he knew what he was doing when he volunteered.”
Roman sat with his arms crossed, grunting before he went back to staring out the window. Max noticed he hadn’t touched his tea. Mikhail shook his head and went back to addressing th
em.
“Listen to me. This man has been feeding me valuable information about the group. Unfortunately, he has not checked in for quite some time. I am afraid for the worse, but he did his part. I am confident in my theories now.”
Aaron still wasn't following this crazy man’s words. “What theories?”
“As I said, I do not believe that Tiamat Unbound is dead. Rather, I believe that they have taken on a new life.”
Aaron looked over at Lydia. She was staring at the floor, fingers digging into her knees. It was beginning to look more and more like they were right in assuming Lewis was up to something. If the city exploding didn't say enough, then maybe this old man would.
“I am not sure how, but from what intel I do possess the organization is rather powerful. I even have a location of a base of operations, but it is…complicated.”
“Why’s that?” Max wanted his part in this too. He'd lost a lot of people to the deadmen, and if he had a chance to stop it he'd take it. Then again, he had to stay alive to. He still had something to live for back home.
“Tell me, what do you know of the World to Come?”
Jackson and Max were now hanging onto Mikhail’s every word. Jackson spoke up first. “They're the bastards we’re here for. They're…” he thought on the consequences of speaking about the operation to outsiders, but at this point, damn the consequences. “They're why all of us are here. The U.S. Military and other forces are looking for them. They claim to have the potential to replicate what happened in America.”
“Their claims are valid,” Roman remarked. Jackson couldn't argue with him there. The evidence was all over the world.
“You've seen them?” Aaron asked incredulously. “Tiamat Unbound, I mean. You're sure?”
Mikhail’s eye rolled around to him. “Yes, my child. This eye does not deceive me.” Roman coughed by the window. “Well, not always.”
“Unless someone is using their colors?” Max suggested.
“No one wants to mimic an organization that still has members sought out for war crimes,” Roman argued. Max sank back into the couch in defeat. Jackson tried.