Epic: Book 02 - Outlaw Trigger (34 page)

“
Man down! Man down! Travis, we need Varya here now!”

Scott swapped an odd look with Dostoevsky. Why were they calling Varvara? Wasn’t Galina right there?

It hit Scott in that very instant. But Dostoevsky stated it first.

“…
Galina…”

Without a second’s pause, the two men dashed from the ship.

As soon as he saw her, Scott’s heart stopped. Galina was lying face up in Oleg’s arms, while Max was in a panic above her. There was a burn mark straight through her breastplate. Her chest was torn open.

Scott was wrong. She hadn’t fallen back with the others. She’d been shot.

“
It is so cold,” Galina babbled incoherently in Russian.

No…
Scott’s mind raced.
Oh no…

Her chest was charred chaos. He could make out the organs beneath.

David’s eyes bulged red with anger. As soon as he saw Scott, he attacked.

“
You trashing dregg hopper!”
He smashed his hands to Scott’s chest. Scott toppled back to the ground.

Dostoevsky jumped in to defend. “Stop!” he said, grabbing David. “Stop it, now!”

“
Why couldn’t you do what you were told?”
David spewed.
“Is this what you wanted?”

“
Jurgen!” Dostoevsky protested.

“
Varvara,” Clarke said, trying to be calm, “Galina has a six-inch sear in her upper left chest. Her lungs are completely exposed.”

“
I am fine,” Galina mumbled. “Where are my papers?”

“
Galina, be still!” the captain said.

Scott pushed himself up as Galina struggled against Clarke. “She’s going to be all right,” Scott said. It was more out of hope than assurance. “She’s going to—”

“
Shut up
, Remington!” Clarke cut him off.

“
I need my papers,” said Galina again.

Above them, the
Pariah
made its descent.

“
We will stay,” said Dostoevsky. “We will remain with the Coneship. Bring Galina back to
Novosibirsk
now.”

“
I’ll go back with her,” said Scott.

Clarke shot him a look. “
You
will remain here, lieutenant. You didn’t care about Galya then, I won’t let you care about her now.”

Scott could feel it welling up in his stomach. He could feel himself starting to burst.

“
Remmy,” Becan said, pulling Scott away, “she’s goin’ to be okay. I know yeh know this. Please, let them work.”

Scott couldn’t take his eyes off her. She was talking but her words made no sense.

“
It’s all righ’,” said Becan. “It’s not your fault.”

As the
Pariah
lowered to the ground, Varvara stood at the bay door’s edge. “Don’t move her! Let me see.” As soon as the Vulture was perched, she hurried out with a military stretcher. When she saw the gaping wound, her eyes grew panicked.

“
Varya, it is good you are here,” Galina said. “I need you to go get my papers.”

Varvara ignored her and dashed to the ground. She quickly pressed dressing on the wound. “I need help moving her inside,
now
!”

Scott stood. “I’ll get her.”

“
We
will get her,” said Clarke. He pointed out David and Boris. “The three of us will lift her on three. One. Two. Three.” The three men hoisted her up as Scott watched. They moved her on top of the stretcher, where Varvara inspected the wound. The young medic began speaking rapidly in Russian.

“
She says she must go back immediately,” Dostoevsky translated. “This is beyond what she can do.”

“
Everything’s beyond what she can do,” muttered Clarke.

“
She is in critical condition, captain. She may not survive the flight.”

“
I need two people with me,” ordered Varvara.

“
I’m going,” said David.

Varvara looked at Boris. “You come, too!” The two men lifted the stretcher.

“
Max and I will come along as well,” said Clarke.

Dostoevsky shook his head. “She does not need that many, captain.”

“
We’re not going for her sake.” Clarke set his glare against Scott. “We’re leaving for his.”

Dostoevsky said nothing and looked away. Clarke and Max boarded the ship. Within moments, it was off of the ground.

Scott fought to justify his emotions. Yet it wasn’t his fault. It couldn’t be. The charge was clearly what they’d needed to do. It was Clarke who had erred with his moment of hesitation.

“
Hey man,” Jayden said, “you all right?”

Scott had no helmet to slam. He tore out his earpiece and threw it to the ground.

“
She’s gonna be fine, man. You wanna pray?”

“
I don’t need to pray!” He didn’t want to pray. He didn’t want to think that Galina wouldn’t make it. She had to make it. He was the Golden Lion, and she was his friend—his shadow. Scott had made it out. So would she.

In that instant, he hated the Nightmen more, despite the fact that they’d joined him in the charge. It was because of them that this was all happening. It was because of them that he’d lost Nicole. And now this.

“
I’m going to kill him.”

Becan shuddered. “Remmy? Who yeh talkin’ abou’?”

“
I’m going to kill him, Becan. The one who did this.”

“
Wait? Wha’? Yeh talkin’ abou’ the Bakma? They’re all dead.”

Scott twisted his gaze into a glare. “I’m talking about
him
. The slayer.”

Immediately, Becan and Jayden swapped a look.

“
This is
not
me. This is
him
.”

“
Remmy, yeh need to be calm…”

Scott turned around to face the Nightmen. “I know one of you knows him.” Scott wasn’t even on the battlefield anymore. In his mind, he was holding Nicole’s corpse.

Dostoevsky eyed him.

“
I
know
that one of you knows him!”

“
Who?”

“
You know who!”

Becan interjected. “He’s talkin’ abou’ the murderer, yeh dregg!”

“
Tell me if you know him!” Scott said again.

“
Remington,” said Dostoevsky, “you do not know what you are talk—”

“
If you know his name,
tell
me, Yuri!”

Dostoevsky said nothing—his jaw had dropped. He only stared oddly at Scott, while the slayers around him stood still. For a moment, his countenance changed.

Scott took note of it instantly. “You know him,” he said accusatorily.

“
Remington, you would be wise to watch how you speak—”

Scott stormed toward Dostoevsky and shoved him in the chest. The fulcrum commander stumbled back. “You know him,” Scott said. “I saw it in your face.”

The slayers behind Dostoevsky stepped forward.

“
Remmy, not here!” pled Becan.

“
He knows, Becan,” Scott pointed. “Look at him. I
know
that he knows him.”

Oleg positioned himself between them. “Please, everyone, we need to not do this. This will only be bad.” He glanced to Dostoevsky, who said nothing.

“
You know the man who murdered her,” Scott seethed. “Tell me who it is.”

“
Lieutenant Remington,” said Dostoevsky, but Scott cut him off.

“
Tell me who it is!”

“
Enough!” shouted Oleg. “No one else speaks! That is enough.” He motioned to Becan and Jayden. “You two, take the lieutenant over there. The rest of you, go to the Coneship. No one else speaks.”

As the chain of command disintegrated, Dostoevsky stepped aside. The slayers followed him back to the wreckage.

“
He knows, Becan,” Scott said lowly. “He knows.”

“
I know. I know, Remmy.”

“
I’ll kill him if he doesn’t tell me.”

“
Just be calm.”

The
Pariah
did not make its expected return. A different Vulture, one from an entirely different unit, arrived instead. A sweeper team was dropped at the wreckage, while the Fourteenth was taken back home.

Not once did Scott or Dostoevsky speak to each other. The men sat on opposite ends of the troop bay with their respective teammates blocking the space between them. Only when the silence became unbearable did Scott move to seat himself next to the pilot in the cockpit. It was the only other room in the ship.

No one met them when they arrived back at
Novosibirsk
. No one was expected to. Scott, Becan, Jayden, and Oleg left the hangar together, where they sought out an update for Galina. The only words that stood out were ‘irreversible shock.’ She’d been moved to emergency surgery; they were told nothing else.

Scott had no urge to see his teammates. Room 14 was a distant thought. He retired to the quiet of his personal quarters, where he remained for the rest of the day. Not once did anyone visit him, and not once was he tempted to leave. Galina’s cot remained empty in the corner, but today she’d be staying somewhere else. All because of him. Not because of Scott. All because of
him
.

When Scott would find him, it would all come to end.

17

Wednesday, August 10
^th
, 0011 NE

EDEN Command

Archer stood before the Council, a collection of formalized papers in his hand. He looked satisfied. “My friends, I’ve got a solution to our
Novosibirsk
problem.”

As Archer passed the stack of papers to the judge at his right, Torokin and Grinkov watched from the opposite end.

“
The paper I am distributing to you now is one that I’m sure you’re familiar with. It is our current protocol for mission response—Article 115A in the EDEN policy manual.” As the papers were passed around the table, the judges scanned over their copies. “What I am proposing is not a new policy. It is merely an alteration, an amendment. We put much trust in our generals to respond to hostile incursions, and that won’t change. In fact, there’s nothing being added or subtracted from these procedures. It’s simply being reordered.”

Grinkov leaned in close to Torokin and gave him a wry look. “At least he speaks eloquently.”

Torokin ignored the comment and listened.

“
Currently, Article 115A states that when an EDEN facility responds to a situation, Command are to be notified. We’re going to reverse that. In my revision—115A-2—Command are to be notified
prior
to any EDEN responses. Our job will simply be to confirm the responses requested by our generals—to give them our blessing.”

Several of the judges raised their eyebrows.

“
What this will do, quite innocently, is give us the final word on who responds to what assignment. All we do is say
yes
. This won’t slow down EDEN’s response time in the slightest…because the only base we’ll be paying attention to is
Novosibirsk
.

“
As soon as
Novosibirsk
Command contact us, we’ll be able to pull up a description of the units they intend to deploy. We can immediately determine if the assignment is intended to weed us out. If it
is
…we simply say, ‘negative,
Novosibirsk
, send this other unit instead.’ We may insert whatever unit we wish, Nightman or not. We can combat their insolence with bureaucracy.” He smiled smugly.

President Pauling stared down at the paper. Archer went on.

“
This reordered policy will ensure that EDEN and the Nightmen are being dispatched to equal assignments. We eliminate Thoor’s say-so on who lives and dies.”

Grinkov spoke up immediately. “If you are correct about General Thoor, he will never abide by this regulation.”

Archer smiled.
“Precisely.”

Grinkov looked skeptical.

“
That’s the revision’s purpose,” said Archer. “Thoor has no reason to challenge this amendment. The amendment is meaningless. That is…unless he has an ulterior motive. General Thoor is the only person this change will affect. If he challenges it, then we know there’s a good chance my hypothesis was correct—
Novosibirsk
has been weeding us out for years.”

Carol June—the auburn-haired American—leaned close to Judge Blake. “This guy’s sneaky,” she whispered. “I like him.”

Blake held back a smile.

Grinkov addressed Archer again. “And what if you are correct? What do we do then?”

Archer stared at the Russian judge for several seconds, then looked down at the tabletop. “There comes a time, Judge Grinkov, when serious steps must be taken to ensure the uncompromised safety of Earth. That always includes the use of force.”

For the first time, murmurs swelled around the table. Judge Castellnou laughed sardonically and leaned back. “This is what we should have been doing for
months
now.”

“
I’m not quite finished, if you please,” said Archer. The chatter around the table settled down. “This revision would merely confirm our apprehension. We will need to take it several steps further. I’d like to propose a formal investigation of
Novosibirsk
, with the intent of proving General Thoor’s recalcitrance.”