Allie's War Season Three (57 page)

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Authors: JC Andrijeski

BOOK: Allie's War Season Three
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"Are you reading her?" Jon said.

Wreg gestured in an impatient kind of affirmative, even as his eyes blurred again, his expression growing more distracted.

"We have to move..." he said after another pause.

"Why?"

"The bank's security has picked up the delay in the info transfer...they'll start triangulating any minute..." He shook his head, chuckling again. "Cocky little shit..."

Jon couldn't help but hear the note of admiration in the seer's voice.

Great, they'd found a new criminal for the rebels to embrace, one endorsed by those magic pieces of paper from the organic chip. They'd probably have her hacking into Black Arrow databases by the end of the week...or maybe knocking off a few more banks.

Wreg glanced at him, that glint back in his eyes, but he didn't bother to answer Jon's, admittedly loud, thoughts.

"Are we moving?" Jon grumbled. "I thought we had to grab her?"

"Jax is doing it. He's closest. He saw an opening..."

Even as he spoke, an explosion rocked the street in front of them.

Jon hit the deck instinctively...his reflexes moving him a lot faster than they would have even when he'd been at peak condition as an instructor for that kung fu school he'd practically lived in before he'd been yanked out of San Francisco.

Even so, Wreg's were faster.

The muscular seer yanked Jon down by the arm before Jon made it halfway down on his own. The force of his pull brought the pavement up like a stone wall...and might have broken Jon's jaw, but somehow Wreg managed to get his arm under Jon's face and neck to break the worst of his fall. Jon found himself lying flat on the cement, struggling to breathe with the weight of the seer half over his as debris rained down around them.

Before Jon could react, even to tell Wreg to get off him, the seer leapt to his feet, speaking loudly into his headset in a mish-mash of that older-style Prexci and Mandarin. Jon caught bits and pieces, mostly from the Prexci end.

"...girl was confirmed target. Did they get her?" Another string in Mandarin that Jon couldn't follow. "Grab her, then! Grab her now! Before they..." Wreg trailed, once more listening to something going on either in the Barrier or in his headset. "...He's got her," he affirmed, giving Jon a direct look. "Are you all right? Brother?" His voice sharpened when Jon didn't answer immediately. "...Brother, are you injured?"

"No. No, I'm good..." Jon was still pulling himself to his feet, brushing off his jeans and coughing in the smoke and dust that filled the air. In front of him, screams made it difficult to hear. "What the hell was that?"

Wreg didn't answer though...not Jon's actual words, that is. Half in the Barrier and half out, he spoke to Jon, but more in the cadence of a report.

"She had a lucky break...shielding armor of some kind...illegal of course, Black Arrow. She's injured, but seems to be all right..." He gave Jon a grim look, his dark eyes holding a fire that Jon had never seen in them before, but that made the seer look dangerous in a way that reminded Jon of what Wreg had been, and how many times war had been a part of his everyday life. "...They targeted her...her, specifically, as soon as they knew that we were after her." His black eyes hardened on Jon's. "...Someone knows what we're doing. They may not have the actual names, Jon, but I bet they know where we got them...and that we're recruiting.
 
We have to assume they're going to be taking out those on the list as soon as we go near them..."

"Where is she now?" Jon said, waving a hand in front of his face, still coughing. "She's all right, you said?"

"Her friend is seriously injured. She had someone else there with her, that she was working with, I guess...no," Wreg paused, listening in his headset again. "...Make that two someone's. She had a remote partner...the tap came from someone from Black Arrow, but they think maybe the tap came from a kid, too...so maybe the kid of the guy who actually works for them. Either way, that trail's already going cold. I've got another team deployed out there...Jorag will take care of it. Jax is going to bring her back to the hotel...she can walk, so that's good. Holo will make sure they aren't being followed..."

"What, she's coming with us?"

Balidor gave him a look like he thought Jon had brain damage.

"Jon, for fuck's sake...they just tried to kill her!"

"I know, but won't they follow..."

"We'll handle it. We know they're watching us now, at least. I've got Balidor generating a shield from the hotel." He grabbed Jon's arm, yanking him backwards down the alley. "I have to get you out of here, brother...now." He sounded angry at himself. "Fuck. You shouldn't be in the field. Not now...Fucking stupid. Adhipan is already chewing me out..."

But Jon barely heard this part. "Dante...are they
kidnapping
her?"

"They're pushing her, Jon," the seer said, his voice still distracted as he steered Jon rapidly down the brick alleyway. Debris covered the ground, but nothing like what Jon had glimpsed through the smoke in Times Square. It looked like whatever it had been, it ripped a hole in the pavement the size of a miniature crater.

"Laser," Wreg said, his voice a half-grunt. "They targeted her from a damned satellite station...minimizes damage in a close, urban setting." Glancing at Jon, his dark eyes held another glimmer of that worry, right before he spoke into his headset, using Mandarin.

That time, Jon practically felt the construct clamp tighter around him.

He felt a whisper of Balidor that time, too...along with Revik, and even Allie. It felt like being crammed inside a coat closet with all of his friends, all of them facing him and breathing on him simultaneously. To call it claustrophobic was an understatement, especially when he could feel all of their worry aimed at him, too...especially Allie's. He could almost
see
her glaring at him from one of the hotel rooms, her lips moving as her hands gestured in anger at him for even being there in the first place.

When he turned his attention back to Wreg, he realized the seer was talking into his headset again.

"...Fighting the push? Drug her, damn it. Just get her off the street..."

"What?" Jon said. "We're drugging her, now?"

"...They have to move fast," Wreg snapped, barely sparing him a glance. "...did you think we would invite her along for tea with her little school chums...take a polite no when she declined? Jesus. For a leader you're pretty damned pansy-ass sometimes, Jon..."

Jon felt his jaw harden involuntarily.

He knew it was ridiculous. Worse, it was completely high school. But Jon had been called that exact same thing enough times growing up that it still hit a few buttons hidden somewhere deep in his psyche. He was still fuming and trying to shove it out of the forefront of his mind when Wreg glanced at him, lifting an eyebrow as he appraised Jon's expression.

"You'll need to learn to control that," he said seriously. "You've got a couple of hot spots in your light like that, Jon..." Still looking at him thoughtfully, he added, "You know, you should talk to Yumi, see if she can help you. Adhipan or no, she's been really good at working with my team on things like that. I have to admit, it was a good suggestion, when Balidor brought that up...he could tell some of the ex-rebels were vulnerable to taps and other infiltration hits due to their past experiences at work camps and whatever else. He basically made those sessions mandatory, even for me..."

But Jon was still chewing over the more basic meaning behind Wreg's words.

"You're
training
me?" Jon said, feeling his jaw harden. "Out here? When we just almost got killed?"

"Out here, in there...everywhere, Jon," Wreg growled.
"...Everywhere,
you got me? There is no time off...not until you learn." Seeing Jon about to speak, Wreg cut him off, his voice still cutting. "...Did you not notice that your name has the word 'command' next to it, my brother? How long do you think we can wait before we make you operational? You think this can be a leisurely thing, like a few adult-learning classes you take after work for fun...but Nenz was fucking
serious
when he said we had to step it up with you. He was pretty pissed off at Adhipan for doing so little with you already, if you want the truth. He said your sister's the only one who's done anything with your light at all in the past two years..."

Jon found himself staring at the seer in some bewilderment.

The fact that Wreg, Balidor, Allie and Revik had been talking seriously about this, kind of blew his mind. He'd taken Wreg's comments to that effect in the past with a grain of salt, more as teasing than as any kind of real strategy discussion...especially one where Revik might actually get pissed off if it wasn't going the way he wanted.

Jon also found himself stuck briefly on a totally irrelevant question. How the hell would Wreg know anything about adult adjunct learning classes?

As soon as he thought it, Wreg burst into a laugh.

"Gods, Jon," he said, clicking at him. "I'm going to have to do it...as much as you'll probably hate me for it, it has to be done. You've been asking for it all week..."

"What?" Jon said, alarmed. "What do you have to do?"

But the seer only grunted, pivoting on one heel towards the lighter opening in the alley, still heading east, away from Times Square. Wreg walked out into the crowd at the end of the litter-strewn alleyway without slowing his strides, moving in that strangely graceful gait he used to cross any distance longer than a few yards. Jon hurried after him, in spite of himself, annoyed when he ended up bumping into people in that same crowd that Wreg navigated so effortlessly, despite his enormous size.

Seeing the smirk on the older seer's face, Jon felt the tension worsen in his neck and shoulders. He hated the fact that the seer was getting to him even as he tried to imagine what Wreg might be threatening him with this time.

"More barfing?" he said, catching up enough to speak without raising his voice.

"That's up to you, I guess...and to him."

"Him?" Jon said. "Him who?"

Wreg only clicked at him, laughing a little.

"Wreg," Jon said, letting anger creep into his voice. "What are you going to do? Seriously. I'm sick of this cagey crap. Can you just answer a question straight for once?"

Wreg didn't stop walking; if anything he slightly sped up his pace, but this time, he caught hold of Jon's arm again, pulling him along after him.

"Simple, brother," he said with a grin, glancing back at him. "...Once we get through the craziness of this week with his bride, I'm going to have to ask Nenz to take over your training personally. He's busy, but I think he'll make the time..."

Immediately, Jon's tension deflated.

He found himself rolling his eyes instead, irritated with himself for falling for Wreg's melodramatic b.s. He'd take Revik in a heartbeat over this monster. If nothing else, Jon could at least
reason
with Revik. Revik was also less likely to get pissed off at him for making a mistake, or start yelling at him for no reason. He would push him, sure, but Jon probably wasn't going to spend another full day hanging over a toilet.

Wreg laughed harder, giving Jon a look of open disbelief.

"You think I am messing with you," he said, grinning. "That is extremely funny, Jon...I will have to remind you of that in a few weeks, after brother Syrimne has gotten his foot lodged up your ass..." Still laughing, he added, "I will tell you right now, little brother...I will tell you the truth. If you think I'm bad, just wait until Syrimne starts giving you sight lessons..."

Jon snorted again. "Whatever, man. That boogeyman crap doesn't scare me. You're forgetting, Revik is my
friend..."

"He made half the seers in our senior infiltration team break down, at one point or another. I saw a few of them crying, brother..."

"Yeah." Jon rolled his eyes, walking faster to keep up. "Sure he did."

Wreg didn't answer, other than to laugh again, knocking playfully into Jon's arm and nearly plowing him over sideways, since Jon hadn't seen it coming.

That time, something about the sheer happiness behind the infiltrator's laugh made Jon nervous, in spite of himself.

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