Yet, even in my old age, I've yet to see the end of violence against the innocent… I provide the weapons to prevent such things. Whatever task Black Jack gave you, Mr. Sullivan, please do not let him down.'
'Yes, sir,' he answered as Browning passed the pistol over. He took it tenderly. It even felt like his old 1911, just thicker, which was more comfortable in his big hand. The sights were bigger and easier to see than he was used to. It felt like it had been made for him.
'The M1921, designed for Army Brutes, except the contract was cancelled. Based on my 1908, only with fourteen rounds of.45 automatic in a staggered column magazine. It is the only one of its kind, so please do not lose it. There are twenty magazines in the box on that top shelf. I will provide ammunition, as well as any supplies you need, including money. J. Edgar Hoover has been sent a telegram stating that the Army has requested your services at the American Battle Monuments Commission. Unfortunately. the Army will require you to be out of the country and unable to communicate for the foreseeable future. If anyone asks, you are detailed to the staff of one Colonel Eisenhower. Hoover will not like it, but the General had many friends. Do you still have his ring?'
He pulled it out of his shirt pocket. 'I do.'
'I believe he would want you to keep it. You will need it as a full member of the Grimnoir Society. Should you accept, I will administer the oath to you before you leave. It will provide a small measure of magical protection.'
'I thought that your bosses said no new members?'
'Bureaucrats are the same in every endeavor, even magical ones. I do not know what your assignment is, but I will not have Black Jack's dying wish denied because of me. When will you be departing?'
Sullivan thought about it for a moment as he inspected the pistol. He needed to get to Southunder as fast as possible, but he'd started on this quest for personal reasons, and he wasn't the type of man who left things unfinished. 'I've got one last thing to do.' Lick Hill, California Madi folded his arms and rested them across the roof of the automobile. The summer sun beat down on him. Across the fields of waving yellow grass and small hills sat the power plant; beyond the smoking stacks was a ravine, and then the largest hill in the area. The narrow steel- strut tower that rose from the plant seemed somehow too tall. In a way, it was every bit as unnatural as he, an aberration in the laws of physics, created from wild Cog imaginings.
'What do you think?' he asked the advance scout from the Shadow Guard contingent.
The young woman removed her sunglasses and studied the tower's defenses. She did not need a telescope any more than he did, revealing that she surely wore the kanji granting the vision of a hawk. 'They are complacent.'
Her assessment matched his own. He'd studied this location carefully when the Chairman had commissioned the study of weak points in the American defenses. The fact that they were able to park so close was a testament to Americans' foolish pride. There were half a dozen other automobiles parked along the road here as well, mostly travelers stopping to gape at one of the legendary Peace Rays. Pathetic. 'Can you take it?'
'Easily. Judging from the number of vehicles, traffic, and visible guards, I would say that they are understaffed. Even if they have any Actives, we will take them by surprise,' she stated. It was a well-known fact that the military had atrophied since the last war left the country in an isolationist stupor. After all, who could invade a country that had so many Peace Rays? 'It will take at least twenty minutes for reinforcements to arrive. Their lack of fear has made them soft.'
'We'll have to remedy that…' he muttered, glancing over at the Shadow Guard. The fact that she was female meant nothing. The Shadow Guard was made up of Fades and Travelers, perfect assassins. The Chairman would never waste one, even if they were of the weaker sex, but he'd been surprised to find that she was as white as he was.
She caught him looking, and turned her eerie grey eyes on him. Her hair was dark red. She obviously knew what he was thinking. 'My parents were British missionaries in Burma when it fell. I was raised in an Imperium school. It was a great honor. As you are well aware, a Caucasian is able to do more among the Americans without arousing suspicion.' She put the cheaters back on to hide her unnatural eyes.
She was beautiful, and she knew it. Madi was impressed with the way that her every unconscious move managed to display her perfect body just enough to keep his constant attention. The Shinobi Academy had taught her well. Seduction was a valuable tool of espionage. Even if she wasn't a Traveler, he had no doubt that she would be an effective tool. 'What do they call you?'
'For the purposes of this mission, my identity is Gladys Mays of Toledo, Ohio. In the academy, I took the name Toshiko.' She returned his gaze without fear. That was something else he would have to fix. Madi had masters and he had followers. He didn't have equals.
He'd taken so many kanji onto his body that all physical sensations had become dull. He had taken to cutting himself with a razor just so he could feel. It was a rare occasion to find a woman that got his attention. Madi decided he would take her for himself when this mission was complete. He'd see just what tricks the academy had taught her, and he'd consider it his reward. Being an Iron Guard had its privileges.
'Brief your men, Toshiko. We strike tonight…' Mar Pacificia, California Francis had watched Faye training for the last hour. She was learning at a frightening speed, and he found it nearly impossible to keep track of how fast she popped in and out of sight, appearing suddenly at totally unexpected directions and speeds. Lance was clearly befuddled trying to keep up. Though he knew it was impossible, the girl didn't seem to be capable of running out of Power.
He had needed to do something to get his mind off his grief, and his first inclination had been to raid the liquor cabinet and drink himself incoherent on his family's finest vintages, but he knew that the General would have disapproved. Pershing had been like a father to him, far better than the man who'd spawned him.
His father hadn't been a bad man per se, simply weak. He was a politician first, human being a distant second. He was the type who tested the wind before stating an opinion. There were no truths, only the path that had the least economic repercussions. When he'd been appointed ambassador, and had seen the Imperium's evil firsthand, even that hadn't been enough to goad him into taking a stand. Francis, on the other hand, had left Japan haunted with nightmares from the things he had seen.
He was a Mover from a long line of Movers, only he was far more talented than his forbearers. To them, it was just a parlor trick, something that could become an embarrassment should it ever become public knowledge, and he had constantly been admonished to keep his Power secret. General Pershing had seen his talent, recognized his potential, and had shown him how he could use it to make things right. Pershing had taught him how to be a man. He owed him his life, except now he was gone.
Francis jumped as Heinrich appeared on the bench beside him. The Fade always managed to move with unnerving silence. 'Sorry,' he said calmly. 'I did not intend to startle you.'
'Well, you didn't,' Francis sputtered. 'I heard you coming,' he lied.
Heinrich was quiet as he watched Faye disappear just as Lance tried to hit her with a padded stick, only to reappear ten feet in the air over his head. 'She's too talented to just be some poor country girl. I do not trust her.'
'You're incapable of trust,' Francis muttered, then regretted it.
'I've earned that right,' Heinrich said softly. 'Where I come from, trust is an honor given to very few…'
Francis was once heir to the world's greatest blimp magnate. Who was he to judge someone who'd grown up as a homeless urchin inside the walls of Dead City? Francis had never been inside the ruins of what had once been Berlin, but he'd heard the legends. The smoking blight left by the firing of the Peace Ray had ended the Great War, but had burned the land and poisoned the air. Then it was made hell on Earth as the Kaiser's undead soldiers had been rounded up and walled inside. He couldn't even begin to imagine what it had been like to be one of the humans trapped inside, especially as a child. 'I'm sorry. That's not what I meant.'
Heinrich continued as if he hadn't heard Francis's apology, which was probably for the best. All the Grimnoir knew that behind his friendly demeanor, Heinrich was a pained man. 'This girl… She is not as dumb as she pretends to be.' He couldn't disagree with that assessment. Faye was smart, just not in a normal way. 'She shows up and immediately kills a prisoner just as he is starting to talk… That doesn't strike you as odd?' He didn't wait for a response. 'Then soon after, we lose the General…'
'We all knew it was coming soon.' Maybe that was why he didn't feel as sad as he thought he should have. Part of him was relieved that the suffering was done, and that made him feel even guiltier. 'That big Heavy was in there when he died, not Faye.' The very thought gnawed at Francis. He'd known the General since he'd been a little boy, had become a knight under his tutelage, had forsaken his family to serve under his command, and given him a
