Prime, p.8
Prime, page 8
part #13 of Nathan K Series
Mrs. Haugen had donated some of her husband’s clothes, but they ill-fit Nathan. Still, the heavy boots and coat provided some protection against the cold. Anton could wear the dead man’s trousers and shirt better, which he gratefully did, but that meant little since Nathan assigned him the task of assisting Robin in the van.
“I know you want come with me, but I can’t do my job if I have to worry about your safety the entire time.” Nathan knew the reasoning did not sit well, but to Anton’s credit, the man did not argue. He had agreed to follow Nathan’s orders. To bolster the decision more, Nathan mentioned the worst part of their situation — other than Maggie, they had no serious weapons. On top of all that, Maggie had limited ammunition remaining.
That had been a half-hour ago. Nathan replayed the entire day to keep his legs moving through the thick snow. Or maybe to torture himself. He should never have agreed to bring Anton along — especially after hearing about Danuta. All the sentimentality that lured Nathan into letting Anton join this assault on Larkin should have been used to insist, to force, Anton back to his lovely Danuta.
“Still working on getting eyes on you,” Robin said in his ear, “but I’ve got a little good news.”
“We can certainly use it.”
“All the chaos you created when you left —”
“I think you did that with your missiles.”
“Fine, all the chaos we created has forced Clockwork into clean up duty online. I can see him trying to erase all mention of an explosion, of a missile strike, of all of it. But he’s also got to work alongside Larkin’s political team to soothe the US and Norway both.”
“And this is good because it means Clockwork can’t pay close attention to whatever you’re doing, right?”
“You keep learning every day. A year ago, I don’t think you would have figured that out unless I threw you some breadcrumbs. Not that I’m going to let you run an op on any of my equipment but at least I know that you can find the on button now.”
Nathan halted. Just ahead, the woods ended. He faced the front of Building Two — the opposite side from the fallen skybridge — and he did not like what he saw.
“Nobody’s here,” he said.
In the dim, morning light, he spotted dark smoke rising in the distance. The destruction caused by Robin’s tomahawks would require emergency crews hours of work and clean-up crews would follow for days, but surely Larkin had people to spare. Yet nobody manned the front entrance. Stranger still — all the first-floor lighting blazed bright as if putting on a grand display of its emptiness, as if saying Hey, Nathan, you can see there are no threats, so come on in.
Robin had not stopped talking, and Nathan finally heard her saying, “— and when she came back, she wore half the takeout and nothing else. That woman was one the best in bed I ever had but crazier than a — hold on a sec, I got something.” Keyboard typing and the crunching of potato chips. Then: “Looks like after your helicopter flew off last night, the pilot went to the nearest airfield to refuel and see if he took any bullets. He reported all was fine to Larkin. I’m reading between the lines since this report was filed for air traffic, but it’s obvious since we were there when it happened.”
“I was there, and I made it happen.”
“Thing is — Larkin’s called that helicopter back.”
“How long before it arrives?”
“Don’t know yet. I’ve been concentrating on fighting through Clockwork’s hastily reconstructed security so that I can help you again. To find the helicopter means either locating a flight plan or hacking into the radar systems that track all air traffic. Neither is too hard, but it will take time.”
“Then get on it.”
“Already started.”
Nathan cradled Maggie in a two-handed grip and approached the building like a police officer ready to fire. The burnt woods charred the air with the pleasant aroma of a campfire mixed with the chemical sting of firefighting foam. Stepping away from the tree line, exposed against the stark white of snow, he headed straight for the main entrance. He would have rather reconned the area, seen if all this lighting was part of a trap, learned where the remaining guards were, searched for a better way in, all of it, but when that helicopter reached Building Two, Larkin would escape — that could not be allowed to happen.
Despite his reckless approach, no sniper shot him, no mine detonated, no alarms blared out. He could hear coordinated commotion in the distance, but he didn’t accept that the urgency over his escape and the missile attack had ended the need for basic security. If nothing else, lighting up the first floor like a showroom promised something more was going on.
Answering his thoughts, a woman walked to the front door, fiddled with the lock, and opened it. Octavia. She stepped outside and arched her head towards him — more quizzical than threatening.
“You can lower your weapon,” she said. “I want to talk.”
When he reached the handful of stairs leading to the entrance, he paused. Keeping Maggie aimed straight at Octavia, he said, “Go ahead.”
“It’s freezing. Come inside. We can sit and talk and be warm.”
“Why should I trust you? When we left Australia, you promised that I wouldn’t be a lab rat.”
“I promised you that I would do all I could to protect you from such an event. I kept my promise. Why do you think you were offered a way out of this mess you’ve created?”
Nathan dropped Maggie a few inches. “That was real? I hunt down a bunch of targets for Larkin and he would have let me go?”
“I convinced him that hurting you would only undercut his power, that the other Immortals would think less of him, and that to betray all Immortals in such a way would also betray me. I told him I would leave.”
“Yet you’re still here.”
“Not exactly. Please, come inside. All of Larkin’s army is either dead or dealing with Building One, the skybridge, and the missile strike — quite an impressive feat, by the way.”
“Give your praise to Robin. Remember her? That pesky human you refuse to accept is worth all that I do.”
Octavia sighed. “I’m not going into anything more until I can feel my fingers again. Come inside or don’t. But if you want a chance — a real chance — at finding an end to all of this, then you’ll talk with me.” She paused at the door. “In case you didn’t figure it out, stopping this war with Larkin will also protect the life of that human you care so much about.”
“Don’t believe her,” Robin said. “You made us come back here to finish this, so let’s finish it.”
Nathan stared at Octavia holding the door open. If she lied, he would have to start fighting sooner than he had intended, but he would be inside the building. Plus, he expected to fight anyway. If she told the truth — well, he didn’t know what to make of that, but if it meant saving Robin from further threat, then perhaps it would be worthwhile.
He holstered his weapon and climbed the stairs.
In his ear, Robin grumbled to Anton, but Nathan could not hear the words. The tone told enough — she would factor in this alteration to their plans and come up with new contingencies. She wouldn’t like it, but she would do it.
The lobby of Building Two mimicked a five-star hotel. Lots of brass, marble, and dark woods. A chandelier of vertical glass panels hung like a piece of modern art, and an oversized fireplace warmed a section of the lobby marked off with a massive, expensive rug and contemporary, stylish furniture. At the front, a finely crafted reception table greeted all. Gentle piano played. Nathan scanned for an actual musician but decided the music had to be recorded and brought in through well-hidden speakers.
Indicating the corner where two firm couches met with an end table between, Octavia sat. She waited. Once Nathan finished visually securing the area and became convinced no ambush would occur, he took the other couch.
She crossed her legs, tented her fingers under her lips like a prayer, and gave him some serious thought. He had the distinct sensation of being evaluated by a teacher, and since she was his Immortal mentor, that could have been the case. But when she finally spoke, he heard something different, something new in her voice — admiration.
“I’ve often thought,” she said, “that despite the chaos you have created, there is a dark beauty to what you’ve been doing. All this violence, all this death, is abhorrent, and yet it has been done to earn your freedom. The thing I’ve never understood is why you refuse to use the great power you’ve been given. I don’t mean our immortality. You have displayed abilities far beyond any regular Immortal. You are more like a Prime. You could have gained freedom with ease by digging into those strengths.”
“Except then I become like a Prime. No thank you.”
“When I look at myself — a former slave — maybe I’ve been alive too long, too set in the ways I had been raised. I don’t know. But it seems that I should have been more like you, instead of working for anybody.”
“Never too late to start.”
“Except for this.” She grinned as she raised her hand to stop him. “I’m no slave to Larkin. I chose to work for him. I chose to believe in the future he has envisioned. And I chose to fight for it like it were my vision, my dream, just like you fight for your dream of freedom.”
Nathan kept still. His knee wanted to bounce, his eyes wanted to rescan the lobby, his hands wanted to make fists and start this fight. But he did not move. He concentrated on listening to Octavia and holding his adrenaline-soaked body in check.
“For us both, we’ve had to learn a hard truth that no amount of time can change — when you seek to achieve a dream, sacrifices must be made. Some of those are the same as any human deals with. Choices of what to prioritize, what to ignore, who to care about, and who to let go. But living forever also means there are choices unique to us, sacrifices unique to us.”
“If this is about Robin again —”
“Not in the way you think, though saving her life has been a choice you’ve made repeatedly — one that has led to your current predicament. After all, if not for trying to save her, you would never have made the deal with me that ended up here. But let me tell you about an incident that happened to me long ago. I think you might start to understand.”
In his ear, Robin said, “I still can’t get hold of a satellite. Clockwork has jumped into the ring with me and it’s a brutal fight. But don’t worry. I’ll be like Mike Tyson and rip him to pieces. Also, I got Anton running to the edge of the forest doing recon. He reported no activity around Building Two. Whatever Octavia’s up to, she doesn’t have Larkin’s men blocking off exits. Not that you’re trying to leave just yet. Okay, okay, I can hear your silent responses. I’ll stop talking for now.”
Nathan clamped down on the laughter rising in his throat. Tilting his head, he said to Octavia, “If this is an attempt to stall me long enough for Larkin to escape, that’s a bad idea.”
“You’re welcome to leave anytime you want. But if you hear me out, you may understand why Larkin is not your enemy. Not anymore.”
He couldn’t pinpoint what had changed in her tone, but he heard a difference. “Is Larkin dead?”
“Not at all. Will you be quiet and listen? I know that’s nearly impossible for you, but try anyway.” She paused for him to quip back, but when he said nothing, she straightened and gave an approving nod. “During my early years with Larkin — and I mean early in Immortal terms — we were faced with challenges brought on by the Big One.”
“World War I?”
“Yes. But at that time there was no World War II, and nobody thought there would be. After the Big One, people hoped it would never happen again. The trenches, the gas, it was a new kind of warfare that took an already-barbaric human behavior and made it worse. Now, the Larkin Group was not nearly the size it is today, but we did have around forty or so Immortals working for us. I remember sitting in a café in Cairo and suggesting that we use our abilities to intervene. I thought forty Immortals could easily tip the scale and end the war in a matter of months.
“Larkin said that sounded like a splendid idea. He had only one question — which side do we tip the scale for?
“The incredulous look on my face made him laugh. He assumed I would want the British and her allies to win, but why not the Germans? They were a more practical people, and they had a great appreciation for hierarchal structure. If we intervened, we would certainly end up making ourselves known — at least, on some level — and the Germans would probably accept us as superior beings, submit to our superiority, and become servants to our leadership. The British, the French, and most definitely, the Americans would not. In fact, the odds were quite high that if we helped defeat Germany, we would become the next enemies of the world.
“And then, Larkin did an amazing thing. He left the decision in my hands. Whatever I wanted to do, he would agree. At first, I thought this was some kind of test. I had yet to be alive for a hundred years, and as you will learn, after your first century, your understanding of your existence no longer is a theoretical matter but a real one.”
Nathan gathered this was less a cut at him and more a statement of reality — even his current reality. He had already learned that though Immortals could comprehend the urgency of a particular moment, they rarely reacted as humans would. After all, how important could anything be when, in the long run, it would all be buried in time? Even Larkin fell into that reality. Nathan didn’t want to let the man escape, but if that happened, so what? Nathan had infinite time to hunt Larkin again. That was the Immortal attitude. But Nathan did not accept that. If for no other reason than he refused to spend another day under Larkin’s thumb.
Hoping to speed Octavia along, he said, “Which side did you finally choose?”
“Neither. The real choice was not which side to help but whether to help at all. That’s what Larkin wanted me to see. The real decision was if the Immortals should intervene, and in doing so, make ourselves known widely. We would be shortening the war, saving countless human lives, but we would be sacrificing some of our own people, too. Fear-driven mobs would ambush Immortals. Governments would capture and experiment on others. A few Immortals would be permanently killed while others would suffer for decades. Even back then, our numbers were not large, so losing as much as one Immortal weighed a lot against us. But I could also choose to sit back and do nothing. Let the war play on without us. The Immortals would remain hidden and safe, but then I would have to sacrifice huge numbers of human lives to the destruction of a war.”
Robin’s voice returned to Nathan’s ear. “Still no sat-support, but I have broken into one of the side security systems. Every person in that building has a keycard and the cards are tracked so that they can know where every employee is at all times. Weird thing is that according to the data, the building’s been cleared out. I mean, sure, after all that we caused, they probably sent the civilians home, but the entire building?”
Turning his head to the side, he whispered, “Larkin?”
“He’s on the top floor.”
With a sly grin, Octavia tapped her ear. “Clockwork tells me he’s zeroing in on her. Should have her location within the hour.”
Nathan smirked. “If you could find her, you would have shut her down already.”
The keyboard typing stopped. Robin said, “He doesn’t have a chance finding me. I’ve got him too busy dealing with security attacks. Not to mention —”
“My tech assures me that your tech isn’t as close as he reports.” Nathan sat back. He had to admit that the couch was very comfortable. “Considering what she’s accomplished against this place, despite all Larkin has spent on it, I’d bet my money on her over your people every time.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Octavia presented her hands open. “When you turned yourself over to me, I promised you she would not be harmed. Even when Clockwork finds her, I’ll keep my promise.”
“Except I did start yesterday morning losing my mind in a jailcell one building over. Or perhaps the promise against all of that was one of those unique sacrifices you wanted to talk about.”
“You never stop behaving like a child. Petulant because things didn’t work out the way we had intended.”
“This wasn’t a promise to take me out for ice cream. I was experimented on. Tortured.”
“Then you shouldn’t have broken the deal with Larkin. That was a sacrifice he made against his real and strong desire to rip you out of that body and destroy your soul.”
“I didn’t break the deal. He did.”
“Larkin has made plenty of mistakes, but he has never lied to me. The only way you could have ended up here was to go against the agreement.”
“All I know is that I tracked down the target I was given, but when the time came, Larkin sent your Prime boyfriend to intervene.”
“The Cardinal showed up?”
“Next thing I know I’m trapped here having my mind scrambled and my body dissected. Thinking about it now, I’d say I’ve sacrificed enough.”
The distinct voice of Dr. Kempo interrupted, echoing from the other side of the lobby. “Mr. K, you have hardly begun to sacrifice.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Nathan bolted to his feet, whipped out Maggie, and aimed at Dr. Kempo. He squeezed off four rounds. The bullets shattered a glass partition and plowed holes into a wood door. If he hit the doctor, she never made a sound, and the wounds never slowed her. She was gone before the glass shards finished plinking tunes on the hard floor.
“Don’t go after her,” Octavia said, still calm on the couch. “She’s taunting you on purpose.”
Nathan pointed his weapon at Octavia. His heart raced and sweat jittered on his skin. “You knew she was here. You knew she was coming for me. All this talk about sacrifice and war and decisions — I thought you were stalling for Clockwork’s benefit, but it was for Dr. Kempo.”
