Convergence - The Last Science #2.1 - In Plain Sight

Transitions II - I

  "Win what?" Malton asked.

  "We were bettin' on how long it'd take for the news to break." He nodded at his partner. "Tess said six months, I said January. I was thinkin' winter would drive 'em out in the open."

  "You already know?"

  "No shit. We know they didn't die." He shrugged. "What's the plan, then?"

  "Get back out there. Bring me someone who won't be missed. A volunteer if it's possible, but anyone will do. No beating around the bush this time."

  Viper nodded. He glanced over at Rook, wondering how she felt about it. He felt a little uneasy about handing someone over to the scientists to be examined and probably cut open. She was as stone-faced as the day he met her, a Finnish immigrant serving in the Marines. He didn't know much about her past (or even her real name—it definitely wasn't Tessa Hunter), but he knew she'd bounced around so many countries as a child that she'd never had a real home. He had no idea why she'd joined the military, but he couldn't deny she was a perfect fit for where she'd ended up.

  They'd ended up a team, a sniper-spotter pair despite the reluctance from the brass to make a mixed-gender duo that would spend weeks totally alone in the field. Idiots. She was a consummate professional, and Viper had never worked with someone more dedicated or effective at her craft. In spite of every hurdle, every idiotic decision made by sexist or simply incompetent COs, she excelled. When his childhood friend Cornelius Malton had called him up, offering him a cushy position as a private contractor with full control over the missions he accepted, it was a no-brainer to get Tessa in on the deal.

  These days, he had no idea what Rook did with her free time. He spent most of his at his favorite pub, enjoying his status as the only American in the area and picking up girls, trying to enjoy every last moment of a life he'd nearly lost a dozen times over, and probably would a dozen more times before he made it to forty.

  It was the life he chose, and every time he punched out on a chopper, felt the adrenaline of a real firefight, or even just the cool gratification of getting in and out totally unnoticed with Rook on his heels, Stefen Gearhardt was pretty satisfied with his life.

  They prepped and packed up their gear for the trip. This was a snatch job, not an execution, so Viper didn't bother bringing a whole lot of lethal firepower. If they got into anything heavy, they'd retreat. With what they could be up against, he couldn't be sure guns would even be effective in a real fight. Who knew what those fuckers had come up with since he'd left?

  Tranquilizer rifles and pistols, tasers. His trusty Beretta and Benelli combo from his days in the Marines before being assigned to Rook. He figured ol' Nelli was probably his best bet against the golems, since spread and stopping power were more important than range and penetration. Besides, if they really needed range, Rook always had her rifle.

  No matter where she went, in the whole world, Rook's rifle was never more than a couple dozen feet away. Viper honestly believed she probably slept with it even at home, though he'd never dare to find out. It was an M/28-30 rifle, the Finnish variant of the classic Russian Mosin Nagant. Despite being outdated and even declared obsolete, Rook somehow cleared the rifle for use in the field through sheer exceptional marksmanship. She'd installed modern scopes onto the rifle herself, tuning them and re-tuning them endlessly, and she never missed a shot under a thousand meters. Even well beyond that range, he'd spotted for her to land shots with her wooden rifle that put modern arms to shame, a piece of history she'd carried with her everywhere.

  The squad loaded up onto one of Malton's private jets, which he'd tasked to them for the duration of the mission. They'd land at a strip in Canada, unload and regroup with their chopper pilot.

  "Back to fuckin' Rallsburg, huh?" he commented.

  Rook made a noncommittal noise of agreement, staring out the window at the clouds.

  "You good?"

  "It is just another mission."

  He glanced around the empty plane cabin. "We're alone, Tess. Talk to me."

  She sighed, finally looking back at him. He was the only one she ever seemed to let her hair down around—metaphorically speaking. Her pale blonde hair barely made it past her ears, and she never put it up in the first place. "Our last mission changed him."

  "You mean Malton?"

  "Yes. He has lost his focus."

  "What focus is that? He was runnin' a business, and he still is unless I'm mistaken."

  "Not that. His business is fine. It is his goals. He was trying to make the world a better place. He had a vision, and now his vision is tainted."

  "Tainted by magic, you mean?"

  "Yes. I think he has let visions of personal power cloud his judgment. He was already a man in control of the world, but now he wants control over nature itself. I fear this."

  "What about me? I'm awakened."

  "We have already discussed this."

  Viper shook his head. "You brushed me off, Tess. Time to spill the beans."

  "I believe you spilled the beans first."

  He rolled his eyes. "That was one fuckin' time, and I said I was sorry."

  The corner of her mouth twitched slightly before she went on. "I do not know Malton, so I do not trust him. I know you."

  "Do you now?" He grinned.

  "More than I wish to."

  "Ouch."

  Her face broke into an actual smile, something so rare that Viper had only seen it twice before. Once, when she'd first passed the qualification tests for sniper, and again when he'd invited her to come work for Malton. He couldn't say what had brought it on this time, but it warmed his heart.

  "If there was a man in the world who was responsible enough to handle such power, I would choose you."

  "...What's that supposed to mean?"

  "You know what power means. How it can affect people. I have seen how you treat such power."

  "This ain't like guns."

  "Not just our weapons." Rook turned back to look out the window again. "I trust you, Stefen. So if you say that Malton is a good man, I will follow your word."

  "We're splittin' up though."

  She stared back at him as if he'd said something stupid. Which, after a moment, Viper realized was pretty much true. He shrugged. "I don't fuckin' know who's good or bad. So if you think we're steppin' over the line, you tell me. Agreed?"

  "Agreed."