was a lifetime ago. Magic had different plans for both of them.
He thought briefly of taking her out now, dismissed it. She was surrounded by enemy, and who knew how many sorcerers were down there in addition to the Gahe . He could call in an air strike and condemn civilians for blocks to a fiery death.
He’d done his recon. Harlequin turned, motioning the helo to follow, and made for Battery Park, Scylla’s face haunting him. He toggled radio channels until he raised Cormack.
‘You’ve got comms with Washington?’
‘Yes, sir,’ Cormack said. ‘Satellite’s a little spotty, but it’ll hold.’
‘Great. Get a video teleconference going as high up the chain as you can. General Gatanas at a minimum, President Porter if you can raise him.’
‘Sir?’
‘You heard me, Captain. Get it done. I’ll be landing in a few minutes, and I want to go right into the call.’
‘I’ll need to give them a reason, sir.’
‘Crisis. That’s your reason. We’re about to be outgunned. Tell them we’re going to need help, and we’re going to need it right fucking now.’
Chapter Four
Underway
And now we hear that Oscar Britton has appeared at the Ng ā puhi R ū nanga, negotiating directly with the M ā ori. The American government has been unsurprisingly silent on Britton’s whereabouts and actions, afraid to condemn such a public hero as a traitor and terrorist. Britton is clearly taking advantage of this, working to build a public movement in favor of the repeal of the McGauer-Linden Act. There are signs that he’s gaining ground, particularly on the topic of Limbic Dampener. But I will bet you anything that the Porter administration has every spook working around the clock to find and stop him. If Britton suddenly goes silent, it won’t be hard to guess what happened.
– Dick Schumann, News analyst, Action6 News at Six
Brigadier General Alan Bookbinder stood on the aluminum ramp and looked down at his cell phone. His home number was dialed in, his wife on the other end. All he had to do was push CALL , and he’d be speaking to Julie in moments. He twisted the simple gold band on his finger, staring at the phone. Touching it had become a habit over the long days away from his wife, and now it had become a ritual, his talisman against loneliness.
His thumb hovered over the button, his eyes hovered over his shoulder. The ramp led from the pier at Staten Island’s Sector New York to the Coast Guard Cutter Breakwater . The black-hulled buoy tender sat low in the calm water, 225 feet of steel, his reward for the insubordination that had saved thousands and made him a folk hero. He’d helped Harlequin and Oscar Britton save the division of people trapped in the Source, under siege on FOB Frontier, helped bring them safely back home. The surge of support had gone viral on the Internet, a groundswell that the government couldn’t ignore.
They’d pardoned him. Promoted him. And put him out to pasture.
As the SOC’s liaison officer to the Coast Guard, Bookbinder could do no harm to anyone and was still in the grip of military justice.
Just in case he had any other ideas that ran counter to orders.
The woman charged with keeping an eye on him waited at the bottom of the pier. She was slight, young, her uniform looking a size too big for her. Her dark hair was swept into a regulation bun beneath her patrol cap. He’d been her commanding officer at FOB Frontier, and like many of the ‘heroes’ who’d survived the base’s destruction, she’d been brevetted up a rank. Her name tape read RIPPLE , which was also her call sign. Her Hydromancer’s lapel pin was askew on her uniform.
Ripple did her best to cast a steely eye at him, a no-nonsense look she hadn’t mastered. Bookbinder felt his heart go out to her. The role of guard fit her as poorly as the uniform.
Ripple was there as more than a guard. She was there to keep an eye on Bookbinder’s unique ability, which he had sworn to keep secret. Alan
He thought briefly of taking her out now, dismissed it. She was surrounded by enemy, and who knew how many sorcerers were down there in addition to the Gahe . He could call in an air strike and condemn civilians for blocks to a fiery death.
He’d done his recon. Harlequin turned, motioning the helo to follow, and made for Battery Park, Scylla’s face haunting him. He toggled radio channels until he raised Cormack.
‘You’ve got comms with Washington?’
‘Yes, sir,’ Cormack said. ‘Satellite’s a little spotty, but it’ll hold.’
‘Great. Get a video teleconference going as high up the chain as you can. General Gatanas at a minimum, President Porter if you can raise him.’
‘Sir?’
‘You heard me, Captain. Get it done. I’ll be landing in a few minutes, and I want to go right into the call.’
‘I’ll need to give them a reason, sir.’
‘Crisis. That’s your reason. We’re about to be outgunned. Tell them we’re going to need help, and we’re going to need it right fucking now.’
Chapter Four
Underway
And now we hear that Oscar Britton has appeared at the Ng ā puhi R ū nanga, negotiating directly with the M ā ori. The American government has been unsurprisingly silent on Britton’s whereabouts and actions, afraid to condemn such a public hero as a traitor and terrorist. Britton is clearly taking advantage of this, working to build a public movement in favor of the repeal of the McGauer-Linden Act. There are signs that he’s gaining ground, particularly on the topic of Limbic Dampener. But I will bet you anything that the Porter administration has every spook working around the clock to find and stop him. If Britton suddenly goes silent, it won’t be hard to guess what happened.
– Dick Schumann, News analyst, Action6 News at Six
Brigadier General Alan Bookbinder stood on the aluminum ramp and looked down at his cell phone. His home number was dialed in, his wife on the other end. All he had to do was push CALL , and he’d be speaking to Julie in moments. He twisted the simple gold band on his finger, staring at the phone. Touching it had become a habit over the long days away from his wife, and now it had become a ritual, his talisman against loneliness.
His thumb hovered over the button, his eyes hovered over his shoulder. The ramp led from the pier at Staten Island’s Sector New York to the Coast Guard Cutter Breakwater . The black-hulled buoy tender sat low in the calm water, 225 feet of steel, his reward for the insubordination that had saved thousands and made him a folk hero. He’d helped Harlequin and Oscar Britton save the division of people trapped in the Source, under siege on FOB Frontier, helped bring them safely back home. The surge of support had gone viral on the Internet, a groundswell that the government couldn’t ignore.
They’d pardoned him. Promoted him. And put him out to pasture.
As the SOC’s liaison officer to the Coast Guard, Bookbinder could do no harm to anyone and was still in the grip of military justice.
Just in case he had any other ideas that ran counter to orders.
The woman charged with keeping an eye on him waited at the bottom of the pier. She was slight, young, her uniform looking a size too big for her. Her dark hair was swept into a regulation bun beneath her patrol cap. He’d been her commanding officer at FOB Frontier, and like many of the ‘heroes’ who’d survived the base’s destruction, she’d been brevetted up a rank. Her name tape read RIPPLE , which was also her call sign. Her Hydromancer’s lapel pin was askew on her uniform.
Ripple did her best to cast a steely eye at him, a no-nonsense look she hadn’t mastered. Bookbinder felt his heart go out to her. The role of guard fit her as poorly as the uniform.
Ripple was there as more than a guard. She was there to keep an eye on Bookbinder’s unique ability, which he had sworn to keep secret. Alan
Similar Books
