David Leadbeater: Weapons of the Gods

But now the darkness ended to be replaced by a starry night. They were high up, standing on a balcony that overlooked the center of Moscow. Below, myriad sparkling lights lit up the great city. Pedestrians roamed the sidewalks and vehicles clogged the streets.

A man sat in a chair, overlooking the city, staring through the gaps in the balcony. “It is good that you are here.” Thick Russian accent, but a young voice. What she could see of the figure told her he was strong too, and lithe.

“I came a long way.”

“And I thank you for that. But you are also curious. You want to know who I am and what I have planned. You want to know how I discovered your greatest secret. And, in truth, you want to know if you can stop me.”

Karin used her soldier’s training to seek out lurkers, guards maybe. She sensed none. “I guess you could call me curious.”

“I brought you here for a one-time offer. Don’t worry about your safety now. You do figure in my plans a little way down the line but…” He paused. “No single battle plan ever stays the same.”

Karin paced to the balcony and put her hands on the railing, staring at all the many aspects of life bustling below. The noise, the smells, the sights existed because so many people were content not to notice the hellish visions that passed them by in the shadows.

“Who are you?”

“I will tell you,” the Russian said. “After you respond to my offer.”

“Spit it out.”

“Eh?”

“Please ask away. What is your offer?”

“I have a legacy. Until a year ago I could not accept it or, rather, I could not pursue it. I was forced to reclaim, rebuild and own an empire. I did that, not without sacrifice, you understand? Do you know me now?”

Karin glanced over to the shadows. “No.” But there was something nagging at her. Something from the past.

“I fought tooth and nail to reclaim all that was my legacy. Loved ones died. Faithful friends were killed. I washed my hands in the blood of my enemies, fought my way back up the ladder, back to the top. Took that highest rung with my raw bones and red-hot blood.”

It was a realization too terrible for Karin. The past was dead. Her brother, her mother and father were dead. The mental anguish of it all struck her once more like an axe sawing across every last nerve.

“Do you see me now?”

“I don’t believe what thought just occurred to me. It can’t be true. It’s all wrong. You are not him.”

“No, but I repossessed my legacy,” the man said. “And now I will claim my revenge.”

“You’re trying to trick me.”

“I think you know who I am. So, we’ll leave it there. I have a plan to wipe out the SPEAR team. I have a plan to take and publicly destroy the President. Do you want to be part of it?”

So there it was. Karin could barely believe her agenda, her new ideals, had led to this position where a terrible madman was offering her a place in his plan to wipe out her old friends, not to mention President Coburn.

It was do or die time. Dino and Wu had been correct — her resolve had wavered as soon as she set eyes on Drake and the others back in Egypt. She recalled what they stood for, what they fought for. The world wouldn’t be as safe as it was if it weren’t for them.

“You have weakened?” The man was incredibly perceptive.

“I don’t know what I want,” she said truthfully. “But what would happen if I tried to throw you off this balcony?”

“You are welcome to try, Miss Blake. If you think we’re alone.”

The mention of her surname jolted her, brought everything into solid reality. She gripped the rail so hard it hurt. “I lost my brother and my parents to this,” she said. “I will fight for them, as they fought for me, and as Drake and SPEAR would always fight for them.”

“Then that is your answer. As I said you are free to leave. We will see each other a little further down the line.”

Karin backed away, still not entirely sure who this man was, still scared of the shadows that surrounded him. “I still don’t see you,” she said.

He turned, and then, finally, there was no doubt. Karin stifled a scream as the face of her nightmares confronted her.

“I am Luka,” he said.

Somehow, the team could not rejoice, nor even relax. They were back in Washington DC, reunited, alive, nursing their wounds, but a kind of sinuous tension wove among them, a thread of threat and uncertainty. It was all down to reports and half-sentences, dark mutterings and exaggerated truths. Karin still hadn’t called in, but reports told of her traveling to Russia.

From where the new darkness emanated.

They should be celebrating in their usual manner, but this time it was different. They were all sitting or standing inside a darkly illuminated warehouse, a safe area designated and guarded by the President’s Secret Service staff until final announcements were made regarding their innocence.

Even Secretary Crowe was among them, determined to support the team and thank them for saving her life.

“How is Lauren?” Drake asked Smyth.

The soldier smiled. “I was with her earlier today at the hospital. Another week maybe, and she’ll be okay to leave.”

“Fantastic. Maybe you two can sort yourselves out then, eh?”

“I think we already have.” Smyth looked younger when he smiled, Drake decided. Long may it last.

Mai stood beside Luther, both leaning across a barrel, drinks in hand and surveying the room. “It won’t be long now,” Mai said. “And then we’ll be free.”

“What’s the first thing you’re gonna do?” Luther asked.

“Oh, I don’t know. Call Grace, probably. Grace is my foster daughter. Sort of.” She sighed. “It’s complicated.”

“Always is,” Luther said. “And after that?”

“A shower. A sleep. A good meal.”

“Cool, do you want some company?”

Mai narrowed her eyes and returned the warrior’s gaze with a cool glare of her own. “I’ll allow you to pay for my meal, yeah.”

“Well, that’s a start. I assume you’re allowing me to share it with you?”

“Steady on, Luther. That’s a big presumption.”

But even then, with her heart lifted, Mai couldn’t help but stare up into the rafters where the shadows coiled. It wasn’t anything physical, or obvious, just something out there in the world oppressing their contentment.

Most of the team stayed together, perhaps feeling a deeper solace in company. Drake sat with Alicia and Dahl, quietly reassured. Hayden and Kinimaka chatted a meter or so to their right, and the big Hawaiian asked her if she’d like to try again. Hayden’s smile of joy was more than enough of a response.

At one point they managed to get hold of Yorgi, though the line was crackling and the young thief sounded incredibly distant.

“I am okay,” he yelled intermittently, as if through thick ice. “I am being… I think… strange… but nothing I can rely on. It is… cold… the north.”

All was good. Drake yelled out a promise to join him if they needed him but Yorgi’s reply was lost to the severed connection and the snow and ice. He hated to think of their friend struggling on alone.

Luther and Molokai both sat on the hard floor, shot glasses arrayed around them like small offerings, all of them empty. Kenzie slid them over a fresh bottle with her boot. In the same movement she caught Dahl’s eye.

She beckoned him over to a corner.

“I am leaving,” she said. “Right now, I’ve done my time with this group. Earned my pardon. If you don’t want me, Torsten, I don’t want to be here.”

Dahl felt something tug at his heart. “I can’t say I’m not torn, Kenzie, but I haven’t changed my mind.”