Enemy One (Epic Book 5) (41 page)

“Yeah, that’s kind of where I thought this was heading.”

She went on. “She’s feeling a bit tentative at the moment, and I can’t say I blame her. Without Ju`bajai’s help, we would have never escaped
Cairo
. We’d be dead if it weren’t for her, yet there she is, freed from one cell to be placed in another.”

Scott could understand the request—and Ju`bajai’s trepidation. But it all boiled down to two things. One was Valentin. Two was reality. “Ju`bajai is an Ithini, Ess. The Ithini are the enemy.”

“Was Tauthin the enemy?”

“Yes.” If she was looking to convict him by going that route, it wasn’t going to work. “And I never forgot that, regardless of how many times we sat across from each other in Confinement.” He leaned forward across from her. “This is about trust, Ess. Can we trust an alien?”

Ever so slightly, Esther’s chin lifted, almost as if she were eyeing Scott down to figure him out. Though subtle, it was a curious gesture. Before Scott could comment on it, Esther answered, “Do you trust Ju`bajai less than you trust Valentin? Or Antipov? Even Natalie at this juncture?”

Now that…was a good question. The answer was
no
. Though Scott tried to hide his being semi-blindsided, Esther picked up on it right away.

“You know I’m right, don’t you?”

He frowned, but said nothing.

Leaning back on the bench, she sighed and crossed her arms, arching her back against the
Pariah
’s interior hull. “Look, I’m not saying we give her a key to the ship and teach her to fly it. I’m just saying that there’d perhaps be a benefit to shortening the leash. A supervised release.”

The next question was obvious. “Supervised by whom?”

There was a long pause—an indicative pause—before Esther answered. She didn’t even make the attempt to disguise her resigned tone. “I’ll do it.”

“That doesn’t sound like it makes you happy—”

“Of course it doesn’t make me happy,” she snapped, “but I’ll do what I must. I always do. I’ll ‘suck it up,’ as you Yanks like to say.” Her stare stayed on him. “I’m not wild about this, Scott, but there’s a tactical benefit to having her on our side and believing in
us
. I’m not saying I’ll share a sodding bunk with her…”

Scott smirked, not amused. “You know it might come down to that.”

“Like I said, I’ll do what I must."

“You mean exercise tolerance?”

She smile placatingly. “Humility and patience.”

Humility
struck Scott as an odd word choice. Just the same, if she was willing, he would approach Valentin with the same argument she’d given. If a little freedom would provide them with answers—much needed ones—then Scott was willing to try. That didn’t mean he thought this was a good idea or that he trusted Ju`bajai. It simply spoke to their desperation. The ‘worst that could happen’ with Ju`bajai wasn’t much worse than what was happening to them now. “All right. I’ll mention it to Lukin.”

“If possible,” she said, raising a hand in defense, “and I know I’ve already asked for a lot…I think there’d be a benefit to having her freed before the meeting, so that she might attend it. I have a feeling she might be forthcoming on what she knows right out of the gate.”

“I’ll mention the potential benefits of timeliness,” Scott said, each word spoken carefully. “We’ll just see what happens.”

She smiled. “Thank you, Scott.” Pushing up from her seat, Esther glanced nonchalantly around the troop bay, her brown eyes lingering on the four corners of the ship’s interior as a look of peace washed over her. “Ironic, that with all the system failures and glitches this rusty old girl has seen, she becomes our last safe place to sit and talk.”

Ironic, or was it fitting? Glitches weren’t the only things that came to mind when Scott thought about the
Pariah
. That ship, for all its wear, had always brought them home. Well, almost always. “Yeah, well, if there’s anything we need to discuss of significance, this is probably the safest place to do it. Just be careful.
Safest
doesn’t necessarily mean safe.”

“Understood.”

Rising, Scott walked to the troop bay door and hit the button to lower it. The Vulture’s gears moaned as the ramp lowered to the floor, the fresh, frigid Norilsk air hitting them through the hangar doors once again. Bitter cold. It was their lot in life. With Esther in tow, Scott walked down the ramp.

The hour that followed felt like three. Scott contacted the members of the Fourteenth, informing them that their meeting had been pushed back to allow for Valentin’s attendance, as well as making them aware of Max’s arrival at the base. Though he’d considered dropping that as a surprise at the onset of the meeting, a desire to hit the ground running and without distraction ultimately won. It was better to give them that extra hour now to get the excitement out than let it impede the progress of what was going to be a critical gathering.

Scott also contacted Valentin, who met his request to free Ju`bajai with laughter. Though Scott made every case and argument that Esther had for him, the keeper was clear that the alien would remain locked in her cell. It wasn’t a decision Scott could rationally argue against. He understood Esther’s reasoning, especially with Ju`bajai possibly withholding information, but the fact remained that the Ithini was an enemy. For a man as paranoid and controlling as Valentin was of
Northern Forge
, it would have been a shock had the keeper even entertained the possibility of freeing Ju`bajai. Scott relayed the update to Esther, who sounded disgusted to a degree that somewhat surprised him. Just the same, she accepted the answer—or so she claimed. All in all, things felt as positive as they could be going into the meeting.

Walking to the conference room that Valentin had set apart for them to use, Scott began his preparation.

*
      
*
      
*

Thrusting her palms forward, Esther crashed open the doors of the medical bay. Inside their cells, Natalie and Ju`bajai jumped. Gavriil and Marina’s collective heads whipped in Esther’s direction, and the doctor opened his mouth to speak. The Briton’s sharp words cut him off. “You!” she said, pointing at Ju`bajai in her cell. The alien stared at her expressionlessly. Esther snapped her fingers and pointed to her head. “Get in here, now.” Turning around, she stormed back out of the room, leaving the doctor and Natalie dumbfounded.

Stepping into the same room she’d gone in earlier to communicate with Ju`bajai, Esther slammed the door behind her and locked it promptly. Arms folded across her chest, she tapped her foot and waited. A second later, the construct began.

Esther was once again in Room 14, once again staring at a bunk room in familiar disarray. This time, there was no stopping to take in the view. The scout made a beeline for the lounge. As soon as she rounded the corner that led into it, she saw the ponytailed version of herself waiting.

“Well, well, well,” said Ju`bajai, still stirring her bowl of porridge. “That was a tad brazen, don’t you think?”

Esther never stopped walking. She trekked right across the lounge, slapped the bowl of porridge right out of Ju`bajai’s hand, and grabbed the wide-eyed construct by the collar. Slamming Ju`bajai back into the wall, Esther shrieked at the top of her lungs,
“Give me something to work with, you revolting little squid!”

“Have you gone
mad
?” the alien asked.

“I need
something
to tell them! Some clear indicator that you’re willing to help, even if to the faintest sodding degree. You can’t demand I not rouse suspicion then place me in a position that begs for it!” Letting go of Ju`bajai’s collar, Esther shoved her against the wall then stepped back. “Regardless of what you do to me, if I don’t succeed, you rot in that cell. Act like that matters.” Setting her hands on her hips, Esther blew the hair from her face. She waited in silence.

Her eyes narrowing, Ju`bajai stared at Esther from against the wall. At long last, she drew a breath and replied. “As you wish, Miss Brooking. A taste—but
just
a taste. I can still ruin you.”

“Only if I let you,” Esther said.

Lifting her hand, Ju`bajai snapped her fingers. The construct melted away.

Esther was once again standing in the room she’d slipped into from the hallway, right near the medical bay. Room 14 was gone, and there was no additional presence in her mind. Ju`bajai had left her.

But she’d left something behind.

It took a moment for Esther to find it, but surely enough, the new information—the taste—drifted to the surface of her consciousness as it awaited discovery. When her mind seized it, the scout’s eyes opened widely. She inhaled out of shock. “Oh,” she said. “That’ll do, sprite. That will do.” Without another word, Esther unlocked the door and made her way down the hall.

Sunday, March 18
^th
, 0012 NE

1130 hours

Norilsk, Russia

GAME TIME. At long last, after fleeing from
Cairo
on the wings of a prayer and surviving the flight to
Northern Forge
, Scott was on the verge of actually holding a unit meeting. It felt a million years overdue. The only strange part now was that it wasn’t going to be held in Room 14’s lounge. But the Level-3 conference room would suffice.

The conference room had a distinct Old Era smell to it, a certain agedness, that almost made Scott feel as if he was about to begin a discussion about nuclear weapons or Cold War politics. Just the same, he was grateful for the space, which was more than adequate enough for everyone to have a seat around the table.

The news about Svetlana had been a punch to the gut. Though the time spent alone in his room had been helpful, this wasn’t an ache that was just going to go away. Svetlana was missing. There was no silver lining to that. The best Scott could hope for was that some kind of update would turn up.
Press on
became the phrase of the day.

There was no trickling in of participants, as had been customary back in
Novosibirsk
when bullet points revolved more around upcoming workout regimens and determining who would walk Flopper that week. This time they were facing world-altering events. This was a meeting universally recognized as mission critical. Nothing highlighted that more to Scott than the distinct lack of chatter as everyone made their way inside and took seats. With so many people in the room, the level of silence was downright eerie.

Valentin, expectedly, took a position at the head of the table, with Scott to his immediate right and Colonel Lilan to his left, like three heads of state. Scott realized as he sat across from Lilan that he hadn’t even had a chance to talk with his former colonel yet about the events that’d occurred between
Richmond
and
Novosibirsk
—most importantly, Scott’s fall as a Golden Lion. There was a lot that Scott needed to say. But that would have to wait.

“Begin when you are ready,” said Valentin in a tone that hinted that Scott needed to be ready
now
.

Shifting to face the group, Scott began. “As everyone here knows, we have a lot to talk about, and I think we all realize that time is critical. So let’s get right into this.” And right into Max. “I know everyone here has gotten the word already that Max is here.” He briefly looked at the non-Fourteenth members present. “For those who don’t know, Max is our chief combat technician. For everyone in the Fourteenth, I’ll save us all some time and say that I don’t know what his condition is yet—it was quite a scene when he arrived and they’re still working on getting him set up in the medical bay. I hope to get more information on him soon. Until then, though, let’s just pray for him and be glad he’s back with us.”

It wasn’t the most informative little blurb, but it was literally all he knew. The rest, he’d have to get from Gavriil after things settled down. So right on Scott went. Nodding in Lilan’s direction, he said, “I don’t think anyone’s had a chance to
formally
get introduced to Colonel Lilan yet, so…this is Colonel Lilan.” There wasn’t much else to say. “I think most of you guys know that he was my own colonel back in
Richmond
, where I myself was in Falcon Platoon along with David, Becan, and Jay.” His focus shifted to the colonel. “Colonel, I know you and I have a lot to talk about, about a lot of different things. For the moment though, just so we can all be on the same page, would you mind sharing with all of us what exactly happened in Falcon Platoon when you guys got shot down?”

Nodding his head, Lilan looked down the table. “Good afternoon to those I’ve met and to those I haven’t.” A quick acknowledgment in Valentin’s direction indicated a special inclusion for the keeper in that statement, which Valentin met with what seemed genuine respect. Lilan continued. “The story from our side is not too complicated. Four days ago, Falcon Platoon got called out on a mission over the Great Dismal Swamp, which is a swamp that runs between North Carolina and Virginia. It was a routine Bakma callout—nothing spectacular. What matters, though, is that shortly after our arrival over the swamp, a squadron of Vindicators showed up on radar, and without communication, engaged us and shot us down.”

For as much as Scott and company had been through, he couldn’t imagine being subjected to an attack as vile as what Lilan had encountered. This wasn’t the Nightmen who’d upended him. This was EDEN, the organization Lilan had dedicated the past decade of his life to. Scott listened on as the colonel continued.

“Shortly after we were shot down, what I can only describe as a sweeper team of sorts landed to look for any survivors. Oh, and they shot at us while we were in the water, too,” he said, pointing for emphasis. “That’s really when I realized this hadn’t been some kind of friendly-fire incident. A mistaken one, I mean.” Craning his neck a bit to see Tiffany, he indicated to the pilot. “Ms. Feathers ended up in one of their Vultures—”

Cordially, Tiffany interrupted. “The
Pariah
, actually. The one we flew in to get here.”