“Because it wouldn’t make any sense at this juncture,” Beatrice hissed. “As much as I despise admitting it—” she sighed “—I need your help, Seth.”
Seth lost his balance for a split second. “Do what? You need my help? What is this?”
Beatrice steeled her expression. “It’s the truth. Authority is something I have. But what I do not have are connections. You happen to be one of the founding members of the original ‘get along gang’, as it were. You know all the usual suspects. If…items are needed, you know how to go about obtaining them. And, if not, you know who does.”
A smile slid across Seth’s face. He didn’t trust anything she was saying, but he couldn’t help but feel emboldened by her request. “So let me get this straight, you need me…because of my knowledge, my tenure, and my connections?” He chuckled. “Whatever it is, you must need it bad.”
Beatrice batted her lashes. “Oh, I do. I most surely do.”
“Tell me what it is.”
“Really? You’re just expecting that I come right out and tell you? Right now? In the state I’m in? After openly admitting my own ineptitude?”
Seth folded his arms and puffed out his chest as best he could without looking as though he were trying too hard. He nodded. “If you want my help.”
Beatrice looked away in contrived disappointment. “Well, fine, have it your way.” The melodrama began seeping from her pores. “You know that little ole winged drone thingy we’ve been known to use on occasion for aerial surveillance?”
“The Pred? Sure I do. I was the one who oversaw it being placed into service,” he crowed.
“That’s right, the Pred—how silly of me, I keep forgetting what it’s called.” She slapped her thighs playfully. “I’m looking for some payload for it. The kind that goes boom.”
Seth’s look turned serious. “You mean like bombs? Rockets?”
Beatrice nodded slowly, her hips beginning to rock.
“Honestly, I haven’t the vaguest clue. And believe me, if we had any, I would know. I’ve inventoried this whole camp backwards and forwards.” He thought a moment. “Have you checked with the armory?”
“I’m sorry, the armory?”
“Yeah, the gun-cage crew. They might know. They might even have what you’re looking for locked behind the cage with them.”
“That’s a capital idea, Seth. A good place to start. Definitely easier than opening every door and prying open every crate I come around.” Beatrice strode past, making her way to the door. “You have been a service to me. Thank you so much.”
“Hey, wait. Don’t leave just yet. There’s a flipside to this coin.”
“Oh?”
“You asked a favor of me. Now I believe it’s my turn.”
Beatrice scowled internally. She did her best to conceal the metastasizing anger within. “I suppose you’re right, quid pro quo being what it is and all. What can I do for you, Mr. Bates?”
Seth produced a devious smile. “Nothing much, just something simple.” He paused. “I want back in.”
“In?”
He pointed to the floor. “Yeah, in. Meaning here. No questions, no stipulations, no bullshit—and no takebacks, either. It doesn’t have to be my old position, just something upper echelon, with an office that has working climate control. I know I screwed up, but I’ve done my time and paid my penance. I’m done being a grunt. Enough is enough. I want back in.”
Beatrice widened her stare. “That’s a tall order, Seth. A real tall order.”
“Bearing in mind all that you have accomplished in such a short amount of time, I have no doubt in your ability to swing this.” He patted her shoulder. “I’ll be expecting your call.”
Beatrice watched him rotate and trot away, but she didn’t let him get two feet before exploding onto him. Grabbing a handful of his hair, she shoved his forehead into the wooden doorframe, then repeated the motion a few times for good measure. She then stomped her heel into the backs of his legs, caving them in and bringing him to his knees. Bending him over, she latched onto the brass handle on the antique oak door and pulled hard, crushing his head between it and the doorframe.
Bates dropped lifelessly to the floor. Wide-eyed, his body, arms and legs twitching, he grunted and snorted, unable to voice anything else.
“Sanctimonious, self-serving, ignorant pecker weasel!” Beatrice roared. “No one misuses me! And no man speaks to me in that fashion, either! Especially an effeminate poo prodder like you.” She pulled her pistol and deliberately placed two shots to the back of his head. “Consider yourself fired.”
Chapter 11
Trout Run Valley
Monday, January 10th
Jade pulled the Marauder around a slick bend on Trout Run Road and slowed upon nearing a field that was now evidently being utilized as a tactical gun training range. Hesitating at first, she turned the wheel and pulled off-road, aligning the APC in parallel with a lineup of parked JLTVs and all-terrain vehicles, seeing that the field had been mostly plowed free of snow.
Sensing an arrival, though not necessarily hearing it over cracks of gunfire and through plugs in his ears, Woo Tang looked over his shoulder in time to see her disembark and smartly make her way over to him. He sent her an inviting nod before returning his attention to the range. “Good morning, Jade Hensley,” he said, with added volume such that he could hear his own voice. “Did we wake you?”
Jade leered at him. She hadn’t yet become accustomed to being addressed by her first and last names, something Woo Tang uniquely seemed to do with everyone. “No, not at all. I was up early, like always. I was going to go for a run until I heard all this gunfire.”
Woo Tang turned and squinted, appearing as though he hadn’t heard what she’d said.
Jade moved to within a thoughtful distance of his
