The Legend (16 page)

“Don't flatter yourself, Bex,” he chuckles mirthlessly. “Not everything is about you.”

“Then why?”

“Because I want this war over just as much as you do. Regardless of what happens afterwards, I'm tired of living in this limbo. I want to get on with my life . . . I want to play ball with Alex without the threat of a NUSA invasion. But it's even more than that. I want to make a difference because it's the right thing to do. Somewhere along the line I started believing . . . really believing, in
here
,” he thumps his hand over his heart. “And yeah, I want to help you – to be able to protect you – like he does.”

I sit down on the bed beside him and take his hand.

“I don't know what I would have done if anything had happened to you.”

“Well, that's just an added bonus,” he grins.

“I don't suppose I can convince you to stay out of this?”

“Not a chance. Besides, I can't wait to kick McCoy's ass.”

I take Alex to the lab to say goodbye to his father, and then I lead him back to where Jenna and Chase are waiting with Brooke. Reed's expression is guarded as he hugs her goodbye.

“You ready?” Jenna asks, and Alex mumbles an indiscernible, “Yeah.”

“I'll see you soon,” I hold him tightly for a moment and then I surprise Jenna with a bear hug.

“You're the best, Jen.”

“I know,” she replies airily, squeezing me back. “And best you don't forget it again.” She pulls a face and I can't help but laugh at how easily she has forgiven me for what she now refers to as my “dark” period.

 

 

 

chapter 24

T
he absence of the children acts as a catalyst, and with their departure our training knows no bounds. Without our loved ones to offer any distraction, there is nothing else to do but hone our skills. Between our alliances with Heath's and Fiona's groups, and the successful Gifting of our own soldiers in the new lab, our numbers have increased beyond our most optimistic forecast and it has galvanised our army. There is finally a crackling of electricity in the air that stems from the presence of true hope.

Henry declares Aidan well enough to be discharged from the lab the following day. Much to his chagrin, Kwan wants him to rest for a few days before he can begin training, but nothing can keep him from spectating our sessions. He is itching to get involved and I marvel at how much his confidence has grown. Reed watches him with amusement, and grudging respect.

Kwan is pushing the Legion harder than ever before and I can't help but wonder if he is subconsciously competing with Fiona, who shows her own men no mercy. Michael too, seems to be channelling all his emotions over Morgan's defection into his own training and is improving by the day. Archer, on the other hand, is not coping well. I underestimated his feelings for Morgan, and his despair at her absence. I suspect he is also harbouring a lot of guilt that he allowed her out of the Carlisles' apartment and enabled her to make contact with her father. I watch as he practises with his bow, missing the target more often than he hits it. Lydia is standing beside him, sharing the same target. Unlike Archer's arrows, her small daggers fly straight and true every time.

“I'm worried about him,” Adam murmurs from beside me. He is also watching Archer rather than the defensive demonstration that Kwan is giving. Many of Adam's men participate in the training programme, despite their lack of superhuman ability, and there are a fair number of competent fighters in his group. “You need to talk to him, Rebecca.” Archer had transferred his loyalty from the Ordinary to the Legion shortly after we had met. Adam had accepted this willingly, being the pragmatic person that he is, but this also meant that I was now responsible for Archer.

“I will,” I reply and he smiles in that enigmatic way of his.

“There's no time like the present.”

“Adam,” I figure that he is right, and now is as good a time as any to enlighten him to my plans, “I want to instate you as President when this is all over.” He doesn't look surprised or shocked, but instead nods his head thoughtfully.

“I thought you might.”

“You're the best of us all,” I explain. “You are the most selfless, the most compassionate, the most philanthropic. You can't deny you would make a fine leader.”

“Perhaps,” he smiles. “I am honoured, truly, but I need to give it some thought. Instating me would hardly be the most democratic solution.” I don't say anything else. I know Adam too well to try to convince him. He will let me know his answer when he is ready, but I have an inkling that he will accede.

I wait a few more minutes until Lydia leaves and then I make my way over to Archer.

“How's your mom?” I ask, distracting him from his latest miss.

“She's good. She's gone into town with the others. She and Henry are helping Norman and Cathy in the orchards. The two of them are behaving like a couple of newly-weds.”

“They
are
newly-weds,” I point out wryly.

“Yeah, but I don't really want to be witnessing it first hand,” he retorts.

“I'm sure you miss her,” I probe.

“Yeah, but at least I see her now, far more than I did before.” Archer had left his mother in his teen years and had only reconciled with her years later when he joined Adam's Ordinary. “How's Alex?”

“Fine. Full of excuses why he shouldn't be going to school.”

“Situation normal then,” he smiles, drawing back his bow again. I notice how his smile doesn't reach his eyes and that there are dark shadows below them.

“Archer, about Morgan . . . it wasn't your fault.” He releases the bow string and the arrow whizzes two feet shy of its target. With a moan of frustration he drops the bow onto the table beside us.

“Morgan has always been headstrong,” I continue but he cuts me off.

“I let her go. Not you, not anyone else. If I hadn't, she would be here right now.”

“Morgan left because of
me
,” I insist firmly. I would rather Archer blamed me than himself, even if technically neither reason is correct. Kwan was right – Morgan is an adult and accountable for her own actions. Being so close to Morgan emotionally, Archer will not understand this, so I give him a plausible alternative. “I pushed her away. This is on me, and all I can do now is apologise and make sure it never happens again.”

“You think I'm going to run off and abandon the Legion because you were hard on me?” he asks dubiously, a ghost of a smile playing about his lips.

“No,” I shake my head, “but I do need you to stop moping around and actually hit that.” I point at the target. He stares at it for a moment, and then picks up his bow with a sigh of resignation.

“You know, Adam would have been far more sensitive to my feelings,” he murmurs, pulling the bow back, his thumb resting against his cheek. Letting the bow fly, we both watch as the arrow torpedoes into the centre of the board.

“It's a good thing I'm not Adam, then,” I say simply.

Our laughter reaches the others and Adam looks approving. Even Reed cracks a slow smile. As soon as David and Jethro finish their spar, Kwan makes his way over to me.

“I want to move the training into the auditorium,” he says.

“Why?”

“It's easier for the others to watch, and I can point out mistakes from the stage.”

“Isn't the auditorium Lakeside Five territory?”

“Yeah, but Adam seems to be making headway with them. He's going to ask if we can work out a schedule of designated training times.”

“Okay, sure,” I nod. “Whatever you think is best. How are we coming along?”

“Well,” he muses, “I think we're as ready as we're ever going to be.”

“And Aidan?”

“He starts training tomorrow,” he hesitates and then, “there's something you should know. I was training him before.”

“I know,” I reassure him. “He told me. I also know that you weren't aware of his plan to go through with the procedures.”

“Well, that aside, you should know he's pretty good already. We covered a lot of the basics. I don't think it'll take him long to learn.”

“I can't say I'm looking forward to it,” I admit. “Look, I'd better go. I want to see the General before the meeting starts.”

“You're heading up there now?” he asks and I nod. “Good luck,” he whistles sympathetically as he turns back to the others.

As I reach the door I pass David.

“Hi,” I greet him fondly. His answering greeting is not quite as warm. “I wanted to say I'm sorry for what I said about your . . . well, your fitness.”

“Or lack thereof?” he raises his brow.

“Well, yeah. That. I was out of line – you've helped me immeasurably in the past and you didn't deserve it.” He looks pensive but gives no indication that he accepts my apology. “If it makes you feel better, I was a bitch to everyone,” I point out, and at that he cracks an unwilling smile.

“I'm glad I got into the programme,” he concedes eventually. “Kwan is a hard taskmaster but for the first time in my life I have abs.”

“So this worked out well, then,” I grin, clapping his shoulder as I emerge into the sunshine.

Five minutes later the elated feeling at having been forgiven evaporates as I knock on the old wooden door. While I wait, I wonder idly how many more apologies I will be making today.

“Come in,” a gruff voice barks and I open the door and step inside. Harrison Ross regards me over his enormous mahogany desk.

“General, I wanted to apologise,” I begin, making my way to the seat opposite him. “I shouldn't have attacked you like that.” I gesture at his chest.

“Miss Davis, I saw more combat than you ever will.” He gets heavily to his feet. “I've been shot twice, and I still have grenade shrapnel in my left calf. Do you really think this tiny scratch would bother me?” He rocks on the balls of his feet.

“I . . .” I am not sure whether his question is rhetorical or not and I flounder around for something to say.

“You know, Miss Davis, that I have always questioned your leadership of this army. Women are not meant for war. They lack the gumption, the hunger, the . . . well, for want of a better word, the balls.” I raise my eyebrows, but he continues regardless. “I have always doubted that you will be able to finish off Kenneth Williams. Your natural maternal instinct is a weakness and he is, after all, an old man – vulnerable and slightly pathetic.” The General's disdain for his former friend is obvious.

“General, we have been over this,” I begin, but he raises his hand, calling for me to be quiet. I bite my lip to stop myself speaking.

“Until this happened,” he points at his chest. “The way that you attacked me – let's just say, I am no longer in any doubt. You are capable of murder.” I blink in surprise at the tone of respect. “And I couldn't be prouder.”

“Thank you,” I mumble, not sure if he has just paid me a compliment or insulted my character.

“You are the rightful leader of this army,” he concedes, sitting back down and clasping his hands together, “and you have my full and utter support. Now,” he adds brusquely, “don't we have a council meeting to attend?”

As everyone files into the boardroom, I call Veronica aside.

“How is Jethro?” I ask, making sure the others aren't listening. Veronica and Jethro have been seeing each other for some time now.

“He's okay,” she smiles at the mention of his name.

“How's he coping after learning about Mason?”

“He's getting there,” she admits.

“You'll let me know if there's anything I can do?” I touch her arm, which is uncharacteristic of me and she looks taken aback but pleased.

“I will,” she promises, hastening inside before the General notices her lateness.

We start the meeting, as always, by discussing the Gifting of our soldiers. Adam shares some surprising information – a few of his men want to undergo the procedures, including some of the recently rehabilitated Deranged.

“You're sure?” I ask. The members of Adam's Ordinary have always been more interested in saving survivors of the holocaust than in fighting against NUSA, regardless of how involved in Kwan's training they are.

“They have not forgotten Hope,” he replies, and I spare a thought for Adam's brave, feckless daughter who lost her life when NUSA invaded our Nevada camp.

“I have their names,” Adam adds and hands the General a sheet of paper.

“Unfortunately, many of your previously disadvantaged people lack the good health to survive the procedures,” my father points out gently. “Their years of living in the barren lands cannot be overlooked. Poor diet and perpetual dehydration have permanent effects on the immune system.”

“Understood,” Adam acknowledges. “But I promised only that I would deliver their names. You have the final word – they understand that.”

“So,” the General defers to me, “what is our plan, Miss Davis?”

“You still think Kenneth will have men scouring the Rebeldom for us?” I reply, and he nods grimly.

“More so than ever, I would think,” Reed drawls, “after the Missouri episode.”

“It won't be long before they find us,” my father adds. “Kenneth knows my connection to Georgia, he'll send them here eventually to check it out, with or without Morgan's input.”

“If he's expecting to find the entire Legion army, he'll expect one hell of a battle,” I point out. “He'll send a lot of men.”

“Plenty,” the General agrees. “I doubt he would make the journey himself – he knows he is our main target. He'll be nestled in the safety of Chicago's fortress.”

“Except Chicago won't be quite as safe as he expects. With so many NUSA resources out of the States, Williams will be more vulnerable than ever before.”

“The NUSA army will be divided,” the General has already guessed where I am going with this. “He won't risk sending a small squadron after us – he wouldn't take the chance, he could too easily lose too many men. He'll send a formidable army.”

“Then I say we wait and let him come to us,” I press, hearing Veronica's gasp of horror. “It won't be like before,” I assure her. “This time we'll be ready for them. And it will be on our own turf.”

“What about Kenneth?” my dad asks.

“We hit him when he least expects it,” I reply. “Kenneth will never expect us to attack while our people are in danger. He will assume all our resources will be focused on defence, not offence.”

“It's clever,” Kwan concedes, “but dangerous.”

“It's war,” I point out.