“Will that help?”

  “I’m operating off the hypothesis that there’s something in the beings’ makeup that protects them from the cytolytic effects of the pathogen. If we can identify and isolate it, we may have a remedy. I plan to stay here until we do.”

  “You’re not returning to Vegas?” I asked, surprised.

  “No, and I’ve already cleared it with Purdy.”

  Man, she’d come around to his side in a big way. “How’s Shayne doing?” I asked.

  “The pathogen’s rate of division is picking up again despite the treatment. His skin is beginning to blister.”

  I swore inwardly, still faulting myself for his exposure. “I should leave you to your work, then. I’m taking a separate flight to Texas. I’ll be back on the campus at some point, but I’m not sure when.”

  Sarah nodded absently, eyes glued to her screen.

  “So, I guess I’m saying goodbye.”

  She blinked rapidly, sending a tear down her left cheek. “I know.”

  That got me. I considered hugging her, but she wasn’t giving me an opening. I squeezed her taut neck instead.

  “It’s been an honor serving with you,” I said.

  She sniffled. “For me too.”

  Back at our decaying house for a base, the rest of Legion was breaking down equipment. I joined in, setting weapons in foam-embedded containers and snapping them closed, probably for the last time.

  “Can’t say I’m gonna miss this place,” Rusty remarked.

  “Oh, it was not so bad,” Yoofi replied with a giggle. “It is actually quite pretty.”

  “Yeah, well, you weren’t the one soaking in his own butt sweat for the last twenty hours,” Rusty shot back. “I knew I’d forgotten to pack something. Talcum. I can already feel a rash coming on,” he muttered.

  “Would you like me to heal it?” Yoofi asked.

  “Hey, get that stick away from my backside!”

  I cracked a smile as I absorbed their post-mission banter from the armory. Even Olaf made a grunting sound that could have been a laugh. But I noticed Takara wasn’t saying anything. I stepped from the armory with a stack of weapon containers to find her going listlessly about her tasks.

  “Do you have a minute?” I asked her.

  She followed me outside, where birds were getting into their morning songs. I set the containers inside the cargo van and turned to face her.

  “I’m worried about you,” I said bluntly.

  When she folded her arms, I expected push back, like she usually did, but she only stared up into the trees.

  “The message you gave me about your dragon nature and biogen … I’m afraid you’re giving up.”

  “Why shouldn’t I?” she snapped. “I have no country, no clan. And now I have no cure.”

  “You have Legion.”

  “An organization that manipulated me—that manipulated us—with promises?”

  “Forget the organization. I’m talking about your teammates.” I nodded past her. “They care about you. They’re going to need a strong field commander. You may not have heard, but this is my last mission.”

  “And you’re lecturing me about giving up?”

  Anger flashed through me. “I’m not giving up. My term is finished.”

  “And your wolf?”

  “What about him?” I asked.

  “You’re just going to return to your old life as if he doesn’t exist? Good luck.”

  I hadn’t ruled out a cure, but I didn’t mention that to Takara, for whom the option no longer existed. Anyway, the Blue Wolf was the last thing on my mind. I was thinking of Daniela being pumped full of toxic chemicals that might or might not kill her cancer.

  “What I’m going back to will be nothing like my old life,” I said.

  As if sensing she’d touched something raw, Takara backed away until she was leaning against the van. “When I learned to control my dragon,” she said after a moment, “I believed I was free of her. That I could turn her on and off at will. But Senshika is always with me, always talking. For decades it has been this way. It is like living with a constant madness. Through practice, I have resisted her. But for how much longer can I be expected to do this? I am older, my mind is not as strong.”

  This was one of the rare times I’d heard Takara admit weakness.

  “The things Senshika tells me to do…” She sighed. “There will come a day when I won’t be able to resist her. And on that day, it will be better for everyone if I’m no longer her vessel. If I’m no more.”

  “Then you hold on for as long as you can,” I urged.

  Defiant crescents flashed red around her irises. “Why?”

  “Because people are depending on you, and anything can happen between now and then. Think about everyone you’ve already helped. Hell, think about last night. Purdy’s saying we stopped an apocalypse, all because you showed up with the lumina when you did. Just take it a day at a time. Anything can happen.”

  “So what you’re offering is faith?”

  “For some things, that’s all anyone can offer.”

  For a long time Takara didn’t say anything. Finally, the crescents thinned from her irises. “I’m going to miss you. Not only for your leadership, which I’ve come to admire, but because you understand what it means to live with a deity. A deity no human was ever meant to carry, much less control.”

  “You’ve taught me a lot about how to do that.”

  She studied her palms as if she could see through her gloves to the red sigils inked into the skin. “I’ll hold on,” she decided. “But when I feel myself slipping, I will end it. That’s the best I can offer.”

  I extended a hand. She stepped past it and placed her arms around me. A hug. I swallowed her in my own arms. Through her suit, beneath her burned flesh, I felt the violent, thrumming power of her dragon.

  “That’s all I ask,” I said.

  Our two planes were waiting at the small airfield when we arrived. To avoid a lengthy goodbye, I assured my teammates I’d be back at the Vegas campus to officially end my term, that we’d do our farewells then. It only half worked. Yoofi turned my handshake into a bro hug, clutching my back with his staff hand.

  “I am going to miss you so very much, Mr. Wolfe.”

  “You too, man, but I’ll see you again,” I tried to remind him.

  While Yoofi held me in his half embrace, Rusty seized me around the waist from the side. “It ain’t gonna be the same without you, boss. It just ain’t.” He sniffed. “Do you remember the first time we met? How you lifted me by the vest and called me a parasite?” His muffled laughter turned to snuffles.

  “Yeah?” I still regretted my actions on that first morning with Legion.

  He peered up at me with puffy eyes. “Do you think you could do that again?”

  “Huh?”

  “For old time’s sake?”

  “Sure… Maybe at the reunion back in Vegas.”

  As I freed myself from Yoofi and Rusty’s affections, Takara stood back with a small smirk. She and I had already exchanged goodbyes back at the base in so many words, but I felt I needed to say something to Olaf.

  “Good work back there,” I told him, extending a hand.

  He looked at it for a moment before accepting it. “Good work,” he echoed.

  I studied his eyes for the humanity he’d shown in the armory the day before, but they only stared back dully. Stepping toward him, I lowered my voice. “Remember what I told you in the fall. If there ever comes a point where you want out, you let Sarah know, all right?”

  He nodded once. Reflex? Understanding? Hard to tell.

  “That’s an order,” I added, squeezing his cold hand for emphasis.

  Having said all I wanted to for now, all I could bear, I hiked my pack up my shoulder, gave a final wave to my teammates, and boarded the smaller of the two planes. I was damned sure going to miss them.

  15

  I waited until the plane was airborne, the vast wetland falling away to the south, before pulling out my sat phone. With the time difference it was still too early to call Dani, but there was someone else I’d been thinking about, and he was in my time zone. He answered on the fourth ring, his voice thick with sleep.

  “Hello?”

  “Croft,” I said. “This is Jason Wolfe.”

  In the background, I heard a voice mutter, “Who’s calling at this godawful hour?”

  Prof Croft’s hand must have gone around the phone speaker because his cat’s complaints were suddenly muffled. “Hey, man. I’ve been thinking about you guys. How are things going in Drochia?”

  That was where our team had been when I’d last phoned him a couple days earlier. He’d provided good intel on our opponent as well as lumina mineura, the ore with magical properties that could also bolster the power of a god. We’d ended the call with me saying I would update him on how everything turned out, but between then and now, too much had happened for me to get back to him.

  “Mission accomplished,” I said.

  “No kidding? I was seriously worried.”

  “Yeah, sorry for not calling earlier.” I gave him a quick rundown of the rest of our time there. “I’m actually calling about something new. We just wrapped up another assignment in South Florida.”

  “Whoa, you guys really get around.”

  “No kidding. This one involved a breach that was letting in a flesh-eating pathogen and then some big creatures we’d never heard of.”

  “A breach, huh?” His voice grew concerned. “Associated with magic?”

  “Technology,” I said, going on to describe the buried contraption we discovered.

  “That’s a new one. Tell me about the beings that came through.”

  “They were big. Ten feet tall with exoskeletons that looked like armor. Massive legs. Their arms had been weaponized, one with a blade, the other with some kind of cannon that shot and spewed biological warfare agent. The beings themselves were crawling with pathogens, practically made of it. They reduced a man in battle armor to liquid within minutes.”

  “One of yours?”

  “No, a bad guy.”

  I had spoken with the magic-user enough times that when silence fell on his end, I knew he was in his library, consulting his collection of esoteric books. I heard pages flipping followed by occasional muttering.

  “Congratulations,” he said at last. “You’ve stumped the professor.”

  “No info on the beings?” I asked in surprise.

  “I had a couple thoughts, but neither one checked out.”

  “So what were we fighting?”

  I heard a book clap closed. “Have you considered that the breaches might not be interdimensional?”

  “Then where did they…?” It clicked. “Are you saying we’re dealing with aliens?”

  “If there were interdimensional breaches of the size you’re describing, my order would have been all over it. That’s what they do. That’s all they do. But a breach to another part of our physical universe? Not so much.”

  “All right,” I said. “I’ll let my higher ups know.”

  “Sorry I couldn’t be of more help. You said the breaches are closed now?”

  “Depends on how many of those contraptions are out there,” I replied. “We have a team analyzing the two we found to determine their origin and what kind of energy they’re putting out. Once that’s done, they should be able to locate any others.”

  “I’ll run it by my Order just in case,” Croft said. “Anything else I can look into?”

  The breaches weren’t the only reason I’d called. “Hey, have you known magic to cure cancer?”

  “Cancer?” He hesitated. “Well, ah, just one case that I can think of. It involved fae magic, but I’m pretty sure the same fae planted the supposed cancer in the first place. Smoke and mirrors to manipulate someone. Otherwise, just the usual quacks making quack claims. Cancer is notoriously obstinate when it comes to magic. Why?” he asked carefully. “Is something going on?”

  “I’m asking for someone close to me.”

  “Man, I’m really sorry. I’ll see what I can find out.”

  The realness of his concern touched me. “Thanks.”

  When we ended the call, I stared out the plane window, the sat phone pressed to the underside of my snout. I hoped it wouldn’t come to needing magic, that conventional care coupled with the experimental treatment would be enough. But I regarded Dani’s cancer as a cunning enemy, one I would need to stay several steps ahead of.

  Before it can get the upper hand.

  Not wanting to carry the thought further, I switched to the question of the breach. Not to another dimension, but another part of the universe? When I went to punch Purdy’s number, I saw my sat phone had lost its connection. Same with my tablet. A moment later, the plane began a steady descent.

  I keyed my radio. “What’s happening?”

  “Our instrumentation went screwy,” the pilot answered. “We’re landing at a general aviation to do a diagnostic.”

  I didn’t like the timing. “Any other crafts on radar?”

  “Just normal air traffic. Better strap yourself in.”

  Still not liking it, I took inventory. I was wearing my battle suit, the helmet on the seat beside me, but I’d shed my tactical vest with its ballistic plates. The vest, along with my MP88 and grenades, had become cargo on the other plane. My lone weapon was a sidearm, a couple spare mags in my pack.

  We dropped toward a small airport on the Gulf. The plane landed smoothly and taxied through a bay door and into a hangar.

  “Want to stay onboard?” the pilot asked as we rolled to a stop.

  The inside of the plane suddenly felt claustrophobic, like a shooting gallery.

  “I’ll step out,” I said, donning my helmet and pack.

  Outside the plane, I stood with my back to a wall lined with fuel drums. Despite the open door and a ventilation fan roaring overhead, fumes hung heavy in the air. Across the hangar, a couple mechanics in greasy coveralls chatted over cups of coffee. My pilots remained on board. Through the window, I could see them bent over the instrument panel. Everything looked routine enough, but my instincts weren’t having it. My heart rate stayed high, breaths charged, senses at peak alert.

  I checked my sat phone again. The signal was still out.

  The plane’s instrumentation going down at the same time as my commo equipment?

  I switched my tablet to broadcast on an emergency frequency. The signal was dead, and it wouldn’t be secure, but it was all I had. I tapped out an SOS to my teammates. Even a small uptick in signal would broadcast the message. Maybe I was being overly cautious, but worst case, their plane would make an unplanned stop and then take off again.

  I was sending it out when the screen fractured. Pain exploded through my head and I was thrown from my feet, slamming into the metal wall at my back. Fuel drums scattered around my landing.

  The hell?

  I struggled to push myself up, but my muscles were pudding. A goring headache blurred my vision. We’d been attacked by some kind of concussive device. A scent like burnt cotton candy entered my skewed helmet.

  I inched back behind the cover of the drums that had remained upright. Beneath the roar of the ventilation fan, I picked out the sound of boots entering the hangar. But I still couldn’t see clearly or stand.

  C’mon, I urged my healing.

  The parked plane returned to slow focus above me. The windshield was cracked and blood-spattered, a pair of amorphous figures slumped beyond. The pilots. I imagined the mechanics sprawled on the far side of the hangar, blood and brain fluid leaking from their ears. My helmet and supernatural abilities had spared me, but only for the moment. If I couldn’t fight or flee, I’d be just as dead.

  The hangar dimmed as the main door slid closed. The boots fanned out. I didn’t have to look to know they were using hand signals, suggesting I was dealing with soldiers. Several moved in my direction.

  I managed to close my fingers around the grip of my sidearm. But as I tried to draw it, my recovering muscles spasmed, locking my arm in place. Control, dammit.

  I closed my eyes, focusing on the motion I wanted. I deepened my breaths. Gradually, the arm released, but the boots were almost on top of me now.

  When I opened my eyes, a black helmet rose over the fuel drums, rifle in the ready position. The soldier stiffened, but the banging reports came from my sidearm. His head snapped back. Return fire thumped and rang against the fuel drums. I wiggled backwards and managed to shove myself upright.

  The first soldier was down. The soldier he’d arrived with was backing away, fire flashing from his muzzle. In the moment it took for him to adjust his aim, I caught him twice in the throat, dropping him.

  I took quick stock of the hangar. Eight remaining soldiers in unmarked spec-ops gear. Likely a private force. Must’ve hit our commo with a jammer, I thought. Forced us to land, where they were waiting.

  But who were they working for?

  As the soldiers darted for cover, I tracked a laggard with my weapon and dropped him beside one of the planes. Three down. But though I’d caught them by surprise, their numbers and weapons would give them the advantage once they organized. I had to create havoc before that happened.

  Several of the drums around me had been punctured and were spilling fuel. As return gunfire arrived, I palmed the underside of a drum and heaved it out into the hangar. It arced, trailing fuel, before smashing against the cement floor. My suit absorbed a round, a rib on my right side flaring as if it had been hit by a hammer.

  “No time for pain,” I grunted.

  A moment later, I was palming and hurling another drum. The soldiers shifted positions, improving their angles, coming closer. I imagined their growing confidence as drum after drum missed, but I wasn’t aiming for them. By the time the fifth drum crash-landed, the hangar was soaked in fuel.

  I drew my Zippo, thumbed the wheel, and tossed it into a nearby puddle.

  Flames roared up and spread along the spilled fuel, reaching for the ventilation fan. Rounds snapped around me as the soldiers fired blindly. I swapped mags and picked my shots, sighting on the sounds of scuffing boots. One soldier went down, then another. But even though I was recovering my strength, muscles hot with adrenaline, my instincts were talking again, telling me to get out of the hangar.