Allie's War Season Four (139 page)

I jerked open the door of the room in question and walked in, making my way to the other side of the room before I turned and waited for them to filter in after me.

The room was basic, plain.

Really, it looked like a conference room from one of my crap temp jobs back in San Francisco after college, only with more expensive equipment.

A semi-organic, brushed-metal conference table filled most of the space, ten feet long with two screens embedded on either end of its oval length. Sixteen plain, metal chairs with low seat backs stood around it, so yeah, those were nothing like the faux-leather monstrosities used by most corporations back home. A third monitor, one that stretched nearly the length of the conference table, had also been embedded in the wall, which told me the room probably had full VR capability, too.

I knew they used that kind of thing for interrogations, as well.

After I watched Balidor close the door behind all of us, I used my headset to switch off the normal surveillance feeds in the room. Without waiting for any of the other four to sit, move closer to me, open their mouths, or do anything really, I basically rounded on them, cutting them off before they could even start.

“Look,” I said. “I don’t want to hear it...not from any of you. Not one fucking word about me, about Revik...or about what I just did.”

They all stood on the opposite side of the table from where I stood, open mouthed.

They all fell silent in their minds as soon as I spoke, too, but their reactions weren’t uniform. Wreg and Balidor looked vaguely surprised, Chan I couldn’t read at all, and I saw Jon frown, his expression holding its normal, well...expressiveness. Jon actually looked pissed, I realized. It also occurred to me that he’d fully intended to chew me out for how I’d just treated Revik, especially since I’d done it in front of other people.

“I know what I did,” I said, aiming my words at Jon. “Believe me, I know. And believe me, I’m going to hear about it.” Feeling a pulse of pain shiver through my light, I gritted my teeth. “We’re not here for that. I want to talk to you about something else.”

The silence grew deeper, even as I caught another series of exchanged looks between a few of them, especially between Jon and Wreg.

I saw similar but different looks flow between Wreg and Balidor, though.

“Seriously,” I said. “I don’t want to hear a fucking word about Revik. I’m going to deal with that, all right? I want to talk to you about yesterday. About the Children of the Bridge. And by that, I don’t in any way mean whatever personal relationship you might have knowledge of between Revik and the representative of that group we met last night.”

They all looked at me again.

That time, the surprise was unmistakable. Jon looked particularly startled, especially in relation to the last thing I said.

“What?” Jon said. “What does Revik have to do with that?” He looked at Wreg, then Balidor, as if waiting for them to clarify.

“He has absolutely
nothing
to do with it,” I said, my voice an open warning that time. “Like I just said.”

Jon shut his mouth, but his expression, if anything, grew more bewildered.

Then Wreg cleared his throat, making the sign of the Bridge with his hand.

“Cut the formality crap,” I snapped. “...Jesus. Just talk, Wreg.”

Jon jumped a little, then frowned, looking between me and Wreg. I thought for a minute, he might have something to say about how I’d just talked to his husband, too, but Wreg laid a hand on Jon’s arm as if to calm him, addressing his words directly to me.

“Perhaps I simply do not wish to be demoted, too, princess?” Wreg said, his voice holding a faint humor above the edge. “There seems to be a lot of that going around today...so you’ll forgive me for being a little cautious...”

When I didn’t answer, he bowed again. I couldn’t help noticing that when he finished, he kept his head slightly lower than usual. Giving me a cautious smile, he watched my eyes, his own obsidian orbs holding a wariness on the surface.

“What is it about this group do you wish to discuss, Esteemed Bridge?” he said, his voice still openly careful.

I looked directly at Balidor, who was the only one who didn’t look all that confused.

Instead, he watched me warily, a harder set to his jaw.

I knew by looking at him that he now understood exactly why I’d chosen this particular group to have this conversation. I fully intended to gang up on him, and I could see him realizing that even as he measured my eyes.

“Balidor knows them,” I said, my words direct. Placing a hand on my hip, I motioned towards him with the other. “I know he won’t like this. But I’m looking for some transparency, brothers and sisters. Balidor knew the seer that Jon ran into last night. His name is Dalejem. And he used to be Ahdipan, under Balidor, before he was recruited to the Children of the Bridge.”

Letting my words sink in for a few beats, I continued to stare at Balidor.

“I was told that any further information on that group, and who runs it, was strictly need-to-know,” I added. “Further, I was told that I was not a part of that privileged group, for security reasons. I intend to ask my husband some of these questions, as well, since he, too, had prior knowledge of this group...but I thought I might start that discussion here.”

The silence in the room deepened.

Chandre, Wreg and Jon were all looking at Balidor now, though.

In particular, I noted the angry scowl on Wreg’s face.

“I can see from your faces that none of you are deemed in this ‘need to know’ group, either,” I said, looking back at Balidor. “And while I understand that you likely have good reason for your silence, brother Balidor...as you always have good reasons for the decisions you make for your intermediaries...I admit, my patience is below zero with the secrets and factional bullshit going on in my leadership team. Secrets about Revik’s light, and his ties to Menlim’s construct...” I added, again giving Balidor a hard look. “...And secrets about a group that I do not even know if I should count as my enemy or a friend.”

Feeling my jaw harden more, I dropped the formality all at once.

“How the fuck am I supposed to operate like this?” I said, slamming a palm on the organic table. “Seriously?” I said, glaring at Balidor. “How am I supposed to make tactical decisions? My own fucking
team
doesn’t trust me with sensitive information!”

When I looked up that time, Balidor had paled.

Wreg looked pissed off now, too, and so did Jon. I couldn’t tell who Jon was mad at, but it was pretty clear from Wreg’s face that most of his anger was aimed at Balidor.

“How are we going to resolve this?” I said.

I phrased it more as a demand than a question.

When no one spoke, I looked around at all of them again.

“Who do I go to, to resolve this?” I said. “The Council? Tarsi? Who the fuck is actually in charge here? And if it’s not me, who should I be giving my recommendations to?” My gaze swiveled back to the Adhipan leader. “Is it you, Balidor?”

I saw his light spark out as I stared at him, holding more emotion than maybe I’d ever seen on him, at least outside of a personal context. Realizing I’d just hit probably at the core of his identity, by questioning his loyalty, I only frowned.

Clicking, I stared down at the table, shaking my head.

“I can’t have this,” I said, looking up at them again. “I can’t fucking have this. Do you all understand what I am saying? If you want someone else in charge, then fucking
put
someone else in charge. Do you want Revik in charge again, like he was when I was gone? Fine. I’ll answer to Revik. No questions asked. If that’s what everyone wants, then that’s what we’ll do. But I’m not going to fucking deal with bullshit and dishonesty
from my own team...”

When I looked around at them that time, they all looked pale.

Wreg shifted his weight on his feet, then looked around at the rest of them.

“Do we need to bring the Council into this?” I demanded.

The one person who hadn’t seemed to react as much as the others was the first to answer.

“No,” Chandre said, her voice hard.

Stepping forward from where she’d stood by the door to the interrogation room, she glared around at the rest of them, her arms crossed. “I love the Sword,” she said, jerking her chin forward as she spoke. “...I will follow him, if my Bridge commands it.” She stared directly at me. “But
you
are my leader, Esteemed Bridge. Not him.”

I felt a pulse of agreement off Wreg, who glared at Balidor.

“I second that,” Wreg said, his voice gruff.

Hearing the emotion there, I looked at him, then at Jon, who also looked angry.

Exhaling at the frustration I felt on Balidor’s light, as well as how closed he felt, I looked down at the table again, leaning on the surface of it with both of my palms.

“I know you are not happy with me, brother Balidor, for ganging up on you like this,” I said. I shook my head, clicking softly as I did. “But I chose to ask the question this way, first...with just a few of us...rather than to bring it to a public forum.” I looked up at him again, measuring the expression in his gray irises. “Perhaps I should ask you this. Do you agree that we have a problem in our command structure?”

I saw a different look flicker across Balidor’s eyes, even as some of the anger left his light and his facial expression.

After another pause, where I watched him think, he abruptly relaxed.

“Yes,” he said, exhaling.

“Then what do you propose?” I said, my voice harder. “What would you suggest to me, assuming you wish to offer your advice?”

Balidor seemed to think about that, too.

That time, again, I watched as a deeper understanding penetrated his face and his light, in a way that it hadn’t before, especially not last night on the pier when we talked.

“I think you are correct,” Balidor said, even as I thought it. He raised his eyes, meeting my gaze directly. I felt the apology in his light, even before he voiced it. “You have my sincere apology, Esteemed Bridge. You are absolutely correct that I acted wrongly in this...and that the current situation is untenable. I have inadvertently caused the situation today, by permitting information to become segmented, rather than ensuring that it reached you, and your entire leadership team, unfiltered.”

Pausing, Balidor frowned slightly, his eyes growing distant once more as he seemed to be thinking more concretely about this.

“...If you will permit me a few hours,” he continued, saluting with one hand. “I would like to attempt to contact the leader of the Children of the Bridge.”

Wreg rounded on him at that, his nearly-black eyes holding a thinly disguised fury.

“You fucker. You are in
contact
with them?”

Balidor’s jaw hardened perceptibly, but his gaze never wavered from mine.

“If you will give me that time, Esteemed Sister,” he continued, his voice still deferential. “...I will ask her permission directly, if I may be released from the oath I gave her, that I would disclose nothing about her people...or about her...to any living soul.” He hesitated, his eyes holding that apology once more. “...Including you, Esteemed Bridge.”

I blinked, surprised.

Then, turning over his words, I gave him a seer’s nod.

“Granted,” I said.

He nodded to that once, then met my gaze again.

“I will also speak to Tarsi,” he added, his eyes holding an additional meaning. “...About the other question you asked me...regarding your husband’s light, and the fears we have about its potential interactions with Menlim’s construct.”

That time, I felt my light open for real.

“Thank you,” I said, nodding again. “I would very much appreciate it. Especially since I still intend for us to attempt an extraction in Dubai.”

For a longer pause, no one moved, or spoke.

Then I sighed again. “There’s one more thing,” I said. I straightened from the table, feeling something in my shoulders relax, but only just.

“And what is that, Esteemed Bridge?” Wreg said, his voice cautious once more.

I looked around at all of them, clicking a little in amusement at the wariness I saw there.