Authors: Alexis Morgan
“I can't speak for decisions made in the past, but here's what I can do now.” She turned the screen so he could see it. “Of your top five items, I thought these two should be given the most priority.”
She highlighted the ones she meant. “If you agree, first thing tomorrow I'll submit the request to purchase more physical therapy equipment for the gym and to hire three more trained medics to work in the labs. I like the idea of recruiting candidates with military backgrounds. It only makes sense.”
He nodded. “That was one of Laurel's suggestions, but the guys agreed. With more medics doing triage and treating the more superficial stuff, the Handlers can get started on the serious wounds and the dead faster.”
Sasha couldn't help but shudder at the images that came flooding back. The blood, the screams, the dead and dying.
Devlin cocked his head to the side and stared at her for several seconds. “Flashback?”
“Yeah, it's getting better, but every so often it takes me by surprise.” She mustered up a small smile. “If you want to yell at me some more for what happened, go ahead. You won't be saying anything I haven't already told myself.”
“Actually, don't take this wrong, but all things considered I'm almost glad it happened.”
Although she wouldn't have wished it on her worst enemy, she'd had the same thought herself.
Devlin continued, “I know it was tough on you, and you probably still feel guilty about what happened to Larem. But now you have a lot better understanding of what it's like for us down in the trenches. It will make you a better Regent than most.”
Okay, that surprised her. How did he know that was her dream? She sat back and crossed her arms over her chest. “I never said I wanted to be appointed as this area's Regent.”
“You didn't have to paste your ambitions on the nearest billboard, Sasha. If all you were here to do was assess the situation, you would've shown up, reviewed a few files, and then headed back to St. Louis. Besides, if your stay was going to be temporary, you wouldn't be moving into Laurel's condo. Not to mention the way you keep poking your nose into places where it doesn't belong.”
Okay, she was tired of hearing that last part, too. “Other than the tunnels, as administrator I should have free access to all facilities. How else am I supposed to know what's going on?”
He held up his hands in surrender. “I don't mean to piss you off, but I've seen my share of do-gooders come through here over the years. I'm smart enough to take whatever you're willing to give me to make things better for my men. That doesn't mean I'm naive enough to think that this new enlightened attitude will last. It never does.”
She fought to control her temper. “Once again, I can't change what was or wasn't done in the past. I've already
said I'll order the equipment and hire the medics. That still leaves some money in the budget. We can talk about other options later if you'd rather.”
Devlin pinched the bridge of his nose. “I think we got off track here. I really do appreciate what you're doing. I even believe you'd like to see some changes in how things are done. I'm just saying don't be surprised if these funds suddenly dry up when you try to use them.”
He obviously believed every word he said. A sense of dread settled in the pit of her stomach. What if he was right? Would the Board backtrack on their promise when she sent through the authorizations to utilize the funds? She'd already processed the request for additional funding for Laurel's studies. If approval didn't come through in the next couple of days, Sasha would start pushing.
“Let's go over the rest of the list. I'll do what I can.”
He nodded. “That's all anyone can do. At least you're trying, which is more than Kincade did in all the years he was here.”
As praise went, it wasn't much. But then she was here to do a job, not to win any popularity contests.
“Okay, how about item number three?”
Chaz looked around for something to kick. According to Rusty's latest report, his daughter had come within a hair's breadth of getting herself killed. What the hell had she been thinking? Civilians weren't allowed in the tunnels for good reason.
He'd talked to her since the attack, so she'd obviously survived the experience. But why hadn't she reported
the incident? He was her father, damn it! This was exactly the kind of thing that made him wish she'd chosen another career path. One that wouldn't get her killed by crazies.
To make matters worse, she'd been saved not by the Paladins but by one of their fucking pet Others. The last thing Chaz wanted was for Sasha to come into contact with those freaks. God knows, the Paladins were unstable in their own right, but no one knew for certain what caused the Kalith to turn into Others. The bastard could've turned on her as easily as not.
The thought of a phone call telling him his little girl had been butchered was the stuff of nightmares. He had half a mind to hop the next flight to Seattle and drag Sasha right back to St. Louis where she belonged. The only thing stopping him was the knowledge that he might not succeed and that she'd never forgive him for even trying.
He also wanted to know where Rusty had been when all this was going down. George had made it clear to the guard that his primary duty was to make sure Sasha was safe. Yes, he had to pull enough shifts to make his transfer to Seattle seem legit, but screw that if it meant he couldn't manage the job he was really sent there to do.
At least for now Sasha was safe and had hopefully learned her lesson. He'd only seen the aftermath of the battles Paladins fought and that was horrible enough. He'd had nightmares for days after seeing a dead Paladin come back to life. Talk about a freak show!
Maybe seeing the carnage Others caused would be enough to ensure that she would figure out a way
to rid Seattle of its Kalith residents. The Board of Regents had considered issuing direct orders to dispose of them, but he'd reluctantly argued against that idea. If they ever managed to piss off the Paladins enough that they walked away from the job, the whole world would be screwed, not to mention overrun with Others out for blood.
He picked up the authorization requests Sasha had submitted and skimmed them. After stopping to read them more carefully, he considered the implications and had to smile. His daughter sure was hell bent on making her presence known, and not just in Seattle. Once her proposed expenditures were approved, the Regents would be hearing from every Paladin installation in the world wanting some of the same, most likely starting with the ones right here in Missouri.
Maybe it was time to roll the dice and see what happened. He reached for his pen and scrawled his name on the requests.
D
uke glared at the e-mail on his laptop. The sender's address was unfamiliar, the kind he normally deleted without opening. But the subject line on this one was clearly meant for him.
He read it out loud: “Duke, the bastards must die.”
The body of the e-mail said more of the same, but again there was no signature to identify the sender. Okay, he was down with the idea if this guy was talking about killing those fucking Others who'd managed to worm their way into living on this side of the barrier. The adults should've been gutted the minute they crossed over and the two kids shoved back into their own world. Neither of those things was going to happen, not with a bunch of the Paladins ready to go down fighting to protect them.
So, yeah, he was ready to sign on to any feasible plan for getting things back to the way they were before that creepy Barak crossed paths with Devlin Bane. The
e-mail said to simply send a blank reply if he wanted to know more. He'd do it in a heartbeat if he knew for sure it wasn't a trap.
“Who the hell are you?” he asked, wishing he could expect an answer.
His hand hovered over the mouse, his left forefinger itching to click the button. If he chickened out, he'd have to go on watching his friends fight and die, and for what? Not a damned thing if the Regents and the Paladins started treating the enemy with more respect than they did the guards.
He knew for a fact that part of the Seattle budget had been diverted to pay the three adult Kalith's salaries. Barak was paid to work with his woman. No doubt about how he earned his money. Hell, Duke would've applied for that job himself, but Lacey Sebastian had never given him a second glance.
The other two were “instructors.” Sure, they could teach everyone how to counter the style of fighting the Others used. But in return, the Kalith now knew everything about the human weapons and how they were used.
The question he had was whether the Kalith could duplicate the technology used to produce firearms or stun guns. Who knew what kind of intelligence Barak and Larem had been sent across the barrier to gather?
As Duke considered his options, he wiped his sweaty palms on his pants. On the one hand, he could ignore the e-mail and go on just as he had been: reporting for duty, doing his job, and eating antacids by the handful. Or, he could click the button and see what happened.
He clicked the mouse before he could convince himself otherwise.
It wasn't until he was well into his six-pack two hours later that he remembered to check his mail. Sure enough, his mysterious contact had responded. Before opening the e-mail, Duke snagged another beer.
Okay, it was now or never. He opened the e-mail and scanned its contents.
“Well, I'll be damned.”
He couldn't sit still, so he walked a couple of laps around the room before sitting back down at the computer to read the message again:
Friend, from now on we won't use names or at least real ones. This Sunday, take the ferry across to Whidbey Island and drive down to the state park on the south end. Be there at noon and carry a newspaper opened to the sports page so we can recognize each other. I can't tell you how many of us to expect and wouldn't if I could. You have one last chance to back out of the deal by replying with “cancel my subscription” typed in the subject line. Otherwise, you're in this for the long haul. The fight for our world begins now!
The words burned themselves into Duke's brain. After deleting the e-mail, he purged the trash file and then emptied the recycle bin, hoping to destroy all records of the correspondence except a hard copy. Sunday was his day off. Had the mysterious sender known that? It was pretty damned spooky how much the guy seemed to know.
Duke would know more come this weekend. Until then, tomorrow was another workday, and it was time for
bed. But as he lay staring up at the ceiling in the darkness, he had to wonder whether he'd just signed his own death warrant.
The money had been approved. Sasha danced around her office whooping it up, grinning from ear to ear and toasting her reflection in the window. Her little celebration didn't last long though. It was no fun when she was the only one tapping her toes.
She dialed Laurel's number but decided against leaving a message when it went to voice mail. She also struck out when she tried Devlin. That was okay. In an hour she was due at Lacey Sebastian's house for a Saturday night barbecue. It would be a whole lot more fun to tell Devlin and Laurel in person.
The geologist had called with the invitation right after Sasha had finished up her meeting with Devlin. Lacey had warned Sasha that there was likely to be a mob, but that was okay. It would be nice to get to know the locals in a more informal setting.
Her father had made it a policy not to socialize much with the hired help, as he called anyone other than the Regents themselves. His theory was that maintaining an emotional distance made it easier to make the hard decisions. Maybe that worked for him, but not for her. The choices the Regents made had a direct impact on everyone in the organization. She wanted people to feel that she was approachable and open to their suggestions.
She ducked into the ladies' room to see how she looked. This time of year the weather could change in a matter of minutes, so she'd picked black jeans with a
dark gold tank top and matching black jacket. Right now the sun was shining, but clouds were gathering out over the Sound.
Lacey had said they'd move the party inside if necessary. Since she didn't seem bothered by that possibility, Sasha wouldn't worry either. After retrieving the dessert she'd bought as her contribution for the evening, she flagged down a cab and gave the driver Lacey's address.
It wasn't hard to find the right house on the block. The driveway was overflowing with cars, with a few even parked on the lawn. She'd heard the Paladins had drawn straws; those with short ones remained on duty so the rest could party. Sasha paid the fare and climbed out of the cab feeling a bit intimidated by the number of people who'd shown up.
Even from the street she could hear the murmur of voices coming from the backyardâmost of them male. She braced herself and headed for the front door. Someone must have been watching for arrivals, because the door swung open before she had a chance to ring the bell.
Her smile faded a bit when she saw who it was. “Larem, I didn't know you'd be here.”
Although she should have. It only made sense that Barak and Lacey would invite all the Kalith in the area. Larem didn't look any happier to see her.
“Go on through the kitchen. Lacey is expecting a few more people, so I offered to man the door until they all arrive.”
There wasn't much she could say to that, but she wasn't about to let his presence ruin the party for her.
Luckily, Laurel spotted Sasha as soon as she stepped out on the deck. The Handler made a beeline for her.
Sasha smiled at the doctor. “I'm so glad to see a familiar face, Laurel, especially because I've got good news!”
After Sasha told her about the funding, the two of them stood together, looking down on the backyard from the deck. There were only a few women mixed in the crowd. Sasha recognized Brenna standing with Trahern. The woman she was talking to had to be Lusahn q'Arc, her pale eyes and dark hair with silver streaks clearly marking her as Kalith.