Guardians of the Gates - Part 3, The Osiris Gate - Jeff Schanz (story reading TXT) 📗

cough through Sebastian’s lungs. “No need for anything further. We’re square.”

For a supposedly simple man, I don’t know anyone who’s more of a mystery to me. He and Nigel would have a hell of a poker game.

Sebastian swallowed to relieve the coughing feeling. He had temporarily forgotten about the soldiers seated across from him, and now gave them a once over. All of them still had their rifles ready, feet planted to spring from their seats. Harris wasn’t in need of rescue, and seemed a little perturbed that the soldiers hadn’t figured that out.

“Oh, for Christ’s sake, Captain, tell your men at ease,” said Harris.

The captain was the man on the far end of the line of seats closest to the cockpit. He raised his hand and said, “At ease,” as if the remaining eleven men hadn’t heard Harris themselves. On his order, they relaxed their posture, their rifles becoming one-handed parcels rather than two-handed weapons.

Harris leaned closer to Sebastian and said, “They’re mercenaries. Most of them retired Marines, all of them handpicked by me. They’re sum-bitches in a fight, and they’re loyal as long as the checks clear. Benedict wanted me to create a personal platoon, so I goddamned did.” He laughed like a king on a throne watching his knights joust. “They ain’t seen your monsters yet, but they won’t run. The monsters might.”

Sebastian nodded. He was somewhat amused by the casual acceptance of the so-called monsters by Harris. Ghosts, monsters – it’s all good to the Sergeant Major. Yet, at Harris’ house, the Sergeant Major had alluded to an ignorance of the kinds of things The Saints organization defended the world against, offering respect for that work based solely on Sebastian’s word. Since then, he had witnessed a telescopic view of hideous creatures that should only belong in movies, but were instead running around on a very real London rooftop. Even an old hardened Marine should have been shaken by the sight of those things. But not Harris. Regardless of his real feelings, he remained stoic and flip, only deepening the mystery that he had created in Sebastian’s mind.

As for the mercenary soldiers, Sebastian would just have to trust Harris’ word. Sebastian had faith that his associate field agents could handle a fight with any kind of creature Ashe could throw at them, but it never hurt to have military-trained troops backing you up. A good call overall. Plus, he had no idea the numbers they might be facing, wherever this ground zero was going to be. Ashe was a smart guy, and he would guard what was important with his best defenses. Likely, that would include purported private army armed with guns and explosives, plus a subsidiary army of ugly looking things with fangs, claws, and maybe wings. And probably a few technological booby traps for good measure. But Ashe also didn’t know what information Sebastian managed to get out of GPI’s office. And he didn’t know Sebastian survived his fall into The Thames. So, there was the distinct possibility of catching Ashe off guard. Somehow, that just sounded too hopeful.

Maybe Severinus had communicated with Ashe. Maybe Ashe had eyes and ears that had told him that Sebastian was doing just fine. Maybe Ashe knew that The Saints and their allies knew too much about his operation. He knew that they knew that he knew that they knew. Or something similarly confusing.

Harris produced the little recording device he had held out earlier. He tapped it for effect and smiled at Sebastian, but this smile had less of the patronizing mood than the previous one. Harris bowed his head and lowered his eyes. “I am sorry we put you in the middle of that drama, Sebastian.”

Sebastian, not son. Ok. A step up.

Harris did not meet Sebastian’s eyes, which was normally a good thing, but it seemed like he was attempting a real apology. “Benedict and I thought it was the only way to be sure you played your part to get Severinus to blab. Which he did in spades.” Harris tapped the recorder again. “We knew you could handle yourself, and if that assassin thought you were wise, he might try to do something stupid.”

“With a dozen soldiers sitting right over there?”

“I didn’t say he’d get away with it. But no telling what some crazy asshole might do. Or what abilities he has.” Harris aimed his chin at Sebastian’s own eyes to allude to Sebastian’s ocular abilities. “Maybe he’s got stuff like you, and he can zap us with some kind of mind control, or fry our brains.”

Sebastian blinked and shook his head. “It doesn’t work that way. I’m not like Dracula or a wizard. You have to be really staring at my eyes to…”

“Whatever,” interrupted Harris. “We don’t know what he can do, and how it may work. Understand?”

Sebastian did. Which was a whole new can of worms as to why, who, where, etc., all these specially gifted humans were cropping up. But he could get into that mystery later.

“Ok. So, Lucian was an unknown, and best to let one freak take care of the other freak. I get it,” said Sebastian. “I still don’t appreciate being used.”

“Copy that,” said Harris.

Sebastian nodded. He had said his piece and now needed to get the Sergeant Major squarely back on his side. He smiled meekly and held out his hand for a handshake. Harris spent an awkward moment to react, eventually bringing his hand up to accept Sebastian’s proffered one.

Sebastian offered an apologetic smile and said, “And, I’m – uh, sorry for the elbow to the face thing, earlier.”

Harris shrugged and took back his hand to cross his arms. “Ehh. I’ve had worse.”

Not exactly an acceptance of apology, but ok. “And also all the other stuff I said. I was just baiting you. I didn’t mean it.”

Harris shrugged again and gestured that it wasn’t worth a further response. He pulled out his Ka-Bar knife and worked the blade with an oil rag. The signal was pretty obvious that Harris was done conversing.

However, Sebastian wasn’t quite done. “Forgive the question, but I’m really curious. Why did you miss those wolfers on the roof?”

Harris took a deep breath, not saying anything. Sebastian didn’t look away. He waited a few more moments, then said, “I know the bullets wouldn’t have killed them, but it might’ve helped.”

Harris breathed out in a quiet huff, looking disappointed. He paused his knife oiling, shook his head slightly and said in an almost inaudible voice, “I was just rusty.”

Sebastian almost asked him to repeat the comment, though he had heard it clearly enough in Harris’ head.

Oh. Well – copy that.

 

 

 

The next few hours went by in pockets of awkward silence. Sebastian tried to get information from Harris about what came next, while the Sergeant Major deflected most of the questions and countered with variations of the phrase, “You will be briefed on that later.” The only information Sebastian was able to pick from Harris’ brain was that Benedict would meet them at base camp, and there would be transportation from the airstrip to said base camp. Where base camp specifically was, and what kind of support existed there, remained unknown to Sebastian. He wasn’t even sure The Saints, as an organization, were the authorities in this case. In the past, there would’ve been no doubt. But now? With Severinus undermining the project, and also now deposed, plus Sebastian’s murky status within the organization, he had no idea who was in charge, and what was to be expected. Despite this, and not even knowing what kind of team was being assembled, whatever it was, he wanted in. Saint or not, he believed himself to be valuable.

Harris kept mentioning Benedict as if he were the person making all the calls. Now that Severinus was outed as the traitor, maybe it was that simple to Harris. Benedict had the seniority, support, and experience to take temporary command in an emergency situation. But Sebastian felt like there was more to it than that. Plus there were the other elder council members, any of whom would have claim to the lead role. Had Benedict seized control? Had he purposefully sought to usurp Severinus’ position? Sebastian was fine with that, although he worried what power grabs did to organizations. But, even the simple question of who was in charge wasn’t answered by Harris. As with most other answers, Sebastian would be briefed on that later.

The authority structure of the Saint organization was not the only problem vexing Sebastian. He was deep in thought about his brother, and Ashe, and the meaning of the drugs. He had temporarily put those puzzle assemblies away to deal with the 3-act drama he had just been a part of, plus the insurrection against Severinus, and now that the newer distractions had subsided, the remaining time of the long flight called him back to his inner Sherlock. Like the iconic detective, he steepled his fingers and bowed his head in thought. He took an off moment to glance over at Harris who was tucking the recording device into a pocket. Sebastian wasn’t sure what his interest was in the device, besides the obvious, but it kept nagging at him that there was something about the device he needed to consider. Nothing had hit him, and he wasn’t going to rack his brain to figure it out since there were so many other variables in the bigger puzzle that was occupying his mind.

Quick thoughts of Jillian would occasionally invade his head, and he would shake those off because she was something that would have to wait until this operation was over. Yet there was a small spark in his mind that said she was something important that needed his attention now. At first, he thought it was just his little voice trying to help him not lose another girlfriend. No, there was something more to it than that. If he considered it rationally, she was at least a small factor in this play. She was an employee of GPI. She had helped him research Ashe’s dealings, even though she was unable to find anything of real use. Regardless of success, she had put herself on the line for the cause. It certainly wasn’t safe for her to do what she did, especially helping him recover. That also didn’t make her a prime factor in the operation going forward, though it probably puts her as a puzzle piece somewhere. Was she only a little unique piece that nothing branched from, or was she something more important, and he just wasn’t seeing the connections?

Though she was associated personally with Morgan Ashe, it was no more than any other assistant or common employee of a façade company. She didn’t know she was part of a façade. She just did whatever it was she was hired to do. Obviously, Ashe had never confided in her about his real activities, so besides being associated with the company, she wasn’t a part of the ugly side of Ashe’s plot.

Something clicked in Sebastian’s brain about the recorder again. It and Jillian were related. Something obvious. Beyond obvious. Harris had done surveillance on Jillian’s apartment for no other reason than security. Sebastian was no longer upset about that, but it reminded him that Harris wasn’t the only one who could do that. Jillian was Ashe’s assistant. She didn’t have access to his secrets, yet she did have access to him. And like his files, he would want to keep her close. She wasn’t anonymous anymore. She had been in the news. She was the one who had been attacked by Ashe’s monster and was associated with the mystery man who Ashe knew was actually Sebastian. Jillian would be a potential lead to Sebastian. If Ashe was smart, and he was, he would keep her under surveillance. He would’ve already done it a long time ago.

Ashe knows that I’ve been in Jillian’s apartment. The realization hit Sebastian like a sucker punch. He had been so preoccupied with