I saw what the play was; if I took the shot and killed Magnus, I was certain the next move was to remove me from the board and claim I was working with the Obouros Enclave. If I didn’t take the shot, they’d find a way to remove Magnus, blaming Obouros and me. Shortly after, they would come after me with the help of Obouros. Shadow Company never allowed loose ends. For good measure, they’d try to eliminate Monty, too.
It was lose-lose for me every way I looked at the scenario.
That was the straight play. If I factored in that Rott or Douglas were working with Magnus to loop me into a vendetta mission, it made even more sense. Rott would get his revenge for Cassandra, Magnus would be seen to remove Slif’s killer, reinforcing his position as enclave leader. Douglas was the outlier. I couldn’t see what he would get out of going along with Rott’s plan.
“You will do this for me, for Cassandra,” Rott said after the plan was laid out. “You owe me, Strong. You do this, and the scales are even.”
“You think starting a dragon war will balance the scales?” I asked, letting my anger get away from me. “What part of this entire op brings your daughter back?”
“I think…starting a dragon war will remove their cancer from my city,” Rott said gripping the conference table. “I will do this, and you will help me so that no father has to bury his child because a monster cut her down.”
I saw Rott’s fingers press into the table, punching holes into the wood. It would seem his transformation was more than cosmetic. There was no rationalizing with him—his course was set and he would follow it to the end, even if it meant the end of his life.
“I don’t see why you would need a mage for this op,” I said. “I assume you have coms and diversions handled. I’m guessing Carlos is your blaster, and Feelds here is surveillance. If I’m the shooter and Rott is driving, that leaves Douglas to run comms and run tactical. We don’t need him.”
“He’s our insurance,” Rott said. “Like you said, we’re facing dragons. I’m stronger than I was”—he looked down at the holes in the table—“but I’m not as strong as Balfour. That’s where he comes in.”
“You are seriously overestimating my abilities,” Monty said. “Balfour is stronger than me by orders of magnitude.”
“Then it would behoove Strong to put him down quickly, don’t you think?” Rott said. “This time, you won’t have a choice. You either drop Balfour, or your friend, the mage here, dies when he confronts an angry dragon.”
“Why would I do that?” Monty asked. “This entire plan is a disaster.”
“I could see how you would think that way,” Rott said with a nod. “Let me see if I can help you see the merits of this op. After my transformation, I was able to pick up on particular energy signatures in the city. Specifically those magical in nature.”
I didn’t like where this was going.
“There’s a reason why we’re meeting here,” Rott said. “Aside from it being the place where I lost my little girl, it’s also the place where someone close to you works, isn’t it, mage? A certain Director DeMarco?”
“She’s in a secure location,” Monty said and I could feel the menace in his words. “Surrounded by a security team.”
“Not exactly,” Rott said. “We couldn’t get to Elias, the head of the team, but the rest of the sorcerers we inserted into Haven are ours.”
“How many?” Monty asked keeping his voice calm. “How many have you placed in Haven?”
“More than you can easily handle, mage.”
“You have no idea how many I can handle.”
“Doesn’t matter. If you fail to follow the plan, I will instruct them to eliminate everyone in the building, starting with your Director.”
“There are hundreds of patients in that building,” I said. “What are you saying?”
“They can remain patients or become casualties,” Rott said. “That’s up to the mage. Imagine how many sorcerers it would take to wipe out the entire facility. I have twice that amount in there. What will it be?”
“You don’t want to do this,” Monty said, quietly.
“It’s already done. One call from me and the place becomes a graveyard.”
“You’ve made a fatal error.”
“One I intend to rectify, with your help.”
“What do you want?”
“You do what I ask you to do tomorrow night and this will be all over, like a bad dream,” Rott said. “You don’t, and you will get to bury Roxanne DeMarco—or at least what’s left of her. Trust me when I tell you, burying a loved one will make your life an absolute hell.”
“What exactly is it that you want?” Monty asked. “Be specific.”
“Tomorrow night, Balfour’s vehicle will suffer engine trouble,” Rott said. “I will make sure he gets out of the car.”
“Engine trouble? How are you going to manage that from inside the car?”
“Carlos is our explosives expert. He’ll take care of that, as well as making sure Balfour’s reinforcements are delayed coming from his estate.”
“I’m going to need a clean line of sight for this to work. If Carlos causes too large an explosion I’ll be shooting blind. Would hate to hit the wrong target.”
“The vehicle damage will be enough to be convincing,” Rott said. “The vehicle is armored, but if Balfour refuses to exit, the runes on those rounds will allow you punch through it and him if needed.”
“If he doesn’t get out I may need to get creative,” I said, seeing at least ten ways this could go wrong. “What’s my location?”
“Strong, you’ll be positioned on a roof here”—Rott pointed to a building on the map—“but I need Balfour distracted. That’s where the mage comes in. You will keep him occupied long enough for Strong to take the shot. After Balfour is down, you two are done. We’ll take it from
