Chapter Twenty-Eight – Kris

 

Nearly exactly this was precisely what I was trying to avoid when I gave Hunter Jackson the file and told him he was free.

We’d just gotten to Imogen Smith’s part of the briefing on the town of Del Noche, one of the lesser bastions of the White Feather in the southwestern corner of Mexico, when Hunter had knocked on my door. And now, rather than continuing, she’d turned her narrowed, piercing gaze to him as he took a seat in the second visitor’s chair.

Imogen Smith was the type of woman who would have been the harsh schoolmistress of an all girls’ boarding school if this had been a century prior. The type of woman who would pop your wrist so hard with a ruler, or your backside with a hickory switch, that a nun would blush at the sight and sound. Ghost-white hair, like even the grey was terrified of her, was all that sat atop her crown. Beneath it, crystal clear blue eyes that seemed so discerning they could look at any object and intuit the elemental makeup at the atomic level through a simple glance.

Where Col. Harrington was known for his finesse and manipulation, Imogen Smith was clearly the one known for discernment, research, and analysis. Where the colonel would intuit where his enemy would move by a simple glance, Smith would analyze every piece of data available on the very same opponent and come up with the exact same outcome through a completely different angle.

“You’ve met these people before?” Imogen said to Hunter.

“They asked me to join, years ago. Back during what, I now suppose, would have been their first attempt at a revolution.”

“Tell me,” she said, opening the file in her lap as I came around in front of them and leaned back against the desk, “do you recognize this man?” She pulled a color photograph of an older man, likely in his late fifties or sixties, wearing a white linen suit. She passed it over to him.

Hunter sucked in a breath and bit his lower lip, a flash of recognition lighting up his eyes as he held the photo in front of his face. “I believe so. He was one of the leaders of the White Feather the first time around, I think. I never met him directly. He hasn’t aged much.”

“Do you remember his name?”

His forehead wrinkled. “Khan? Or Hun? A conqueror of some sort, if I remember correctly.”

“Attila,” Imogen said, as Hunter handed the picture to me, “but close. At the time, at least, that was his name. Cid is the preferred moniker now.”

“Who is he?” I asked as I looked at the photo of him crushing out a cigarette on the dirt road with the toe of his well-polished loafer. It was daytime, and he was bathed in sunlight as he was making long strides to a black SUV waiting for him.

“Well, clearly not a vampire,” Hunter said.

I shot him a look, but he just shrugged.

“Who he is, precisely, is the leader of the reformed White Feathers. In their last iteration, which Mr. Jackson was familiar with, they used a committee model much like the communist revolution as favored by Mao and Lenin. Consensus rule, and so on and so forth.”

“Which fell apart,” Hunter said, his tone musing.

“Precisely. Which is why Cid is using a strong man model.”

“Okay,” I said, brow furrowed. “I understand. But what exactly does he want to do?”

“Create a free state,” she said. “A place where supernatural creatures can reveal themselves to the world and live in safety. It was their dream before, and that has not changed in the slightest. The only thing that has changed is their methods, and their final goal.”

“Final goal?” I asked, looking between the two of them.

Hunter shrugged.

“Simply put? The destruction of most of humanity.”

“Excuse me?” Hunter and I both asked at the same time.

“Just what I said, Ms. Cole, Mr. Jackson,” Ms. Smith replied, her eyes flickering back and forth between us. “They have a weapon in their possession, hidden outside the town of Del Noche. We were close to discovering what exactly it was, but our informant has gone dark. We need you to go in to the location, find our informant if possible, and destroy the weapon.”

Arms crossed, I leaned back a little. I almost laughed, but I didn’t think Ms. Smith would have appreciated it in the way I intended.

“And this weapon?” Hunter asked after clearing his throat. “What is it?”

She shrugged. “Who knows? We just know they believe it’s capable of eliminating most of humanity in one fell swoop, and we need to stop it. Somehow, it’s integral to the dig sites around town, and our informant ”

“Any idea how we find it?” I asked. “You have to have some idea.”

Ms. Smith shook her head. “Unfortunately, all we have are satellite images of the surrounding area, along with some old archaeological records. The area was a hotbed for a rival to the Aztec tribe some six centuries ago, before Spanish disease wiped them out with the rest of the empire, and ruins of their temples dot the area. We believe their weapon, if magical in nature, is likely linked to these.”

“Jesus,” Hunter said as Imogen handed separate, identical sat photos to both of us. “Few and far between? There are seven locations here. Do we need to search each one?”

“Activity has been spotted at all of them, yes. I suggested you focus on the most recent one. It was almost wholly unearthed recently, which leads us to suspect the other sites were clues to the discovery of this one.”

I looked over the pictures. Standard temple layouts, most deteriorated over time. The central structures looked remarkably intact, though, and there were signs of fresh excavation at all of them: dig marks from a scoop, fresh tire tracks in the desert around the perimeter, work tents. Col. Harrington and Ms. Smith were right—the White Feather was definitely active at these locations.

“Which,” I said as I nodded at the photos, “would lead one to believe it’s the most important site.”

“Precisely,” Imogen said, nodding. “Very good, Cole. You get a biscuit.”

Hunter swore, sighed deeply. “Anything else?”

“If you can manage to locate our asset on the inside, he may have insights he didn’t offer to us before. Perhaps he’s learned of some new information to which he wasn’t privy, or he needed a more hands-on approach to his debriefing? We can’t say for sure. We just know the sites themselves are linked, and are the crux of Cid’s plan. Take them out, and we remove his opportunity and operational capacity.”

“Gotta name for this contact?” I asked. “Description?”

She shook her head. “Just his codename: Coyote. We were using a digital dead drop system to avoid detection, but he hasn’t checked in in some time.”

“Shifter?” I asked.

“Uncertain. As you saw last night, Cid has more than just supernatural creatures filling out roles in the White Feather. Besides, as I’m sure you’ll agree, Ms. Cole, humans are sometimes better at following orders. He may be completely human, or Navajo, even, for all we know."

“Where should we start looking for him?” I asked.

“Del Noche, his last posting, I would imagine. Anything other than that location is pure speculation on my part, and I’m never prone to such a thing.”

“Figured,” Hunter said, still frowning down at the images in front of him as he flipped through them.

I rolled my eyes. “Look, Hunter,” I said as I collated the pictures and put them beside me on the desk, “you don’t have to come along and do this. You know that. This is completely voluntary at this point. I can lead a team in here with or without you. You wanted out.”

Hunter shot me a glaring look, which only lasted the length of a breath. “It’s not that—”

“Let me stop you there,” Ms. Smith said, straightening up in her chair. “You two seem to be laboring under some misconception about your role in all this.”

I arched an eyebrow. “We are?”

“There is no team,” she said, her words flat and uniquely British. “You, Ms. Cole, are the only ones capable of entering that place. We can’t risk a full military insertion from either the coast or overland, and air is out of the question. Simply put, they have that place locked down, and the only movement options available are to agents who can move under the cover of darkness, and beneath radar. Overland movement will not be an option with our insertion protocols on this.”

“You want me to Jane Bond this shit, then? License to kill, all that?”

“That’s not the most apt description, but yes, more or less.” She shifted in her seat again. “The PDB is still new, and still gaining its war footing. We’d need another year at the very least to properly prepare for a threat of this magnitude, and we simply don’t have the time. You’ll be entering in through Mexico City, then making your way west to the environs of the latest location discovered, Del Noche. It’s four and a half hours by car, through areas heavily patrolled by both the Mexican military and federal agents, any of whom are capable of blowing your cover.”

“We need to go over them, is what you’re saying,” I replied.

“Precisely. And you won’t have much time to settle in, either. As soon as nightfall hits, you need to be moving.”

“Because,” I said as I looked down at my feet, “you think this is all going to happen during the next full moon.”

“Precisely.” She paused, licking her lips. “And, so far as Mr. Jackson is concerned, I’m afraid you can either agree to the mission and see it through, or you can come to a secure facility with me until either it’s completed, or we’re all dead because our plan has failed. Which would you prefer?”

Hunter let loose a bark of laughter. “Ex-fucking-cuse me? You have got to be kidding!”

Ms. Smith’s lips somehow tightened into an even thinner line. So tight, I was surprised she didn’t have diamonds suddenly embedded in her flesh when she spoke. “Unfortunately, I am not. Someone within the PDB has been leaking information to the White Feather, and there’s no way to know exactly who. In light of that matter, I must insist you either go along with the operation, or resign yourself to the fact that we need you under wraps for the time being. Even this information is too sensitive.”

“Wish you would have told me this before I came in to the briefing.”

“Well, Mr. Jackson,” Ms. Smith said with a flash of white teeth that approximated a smile, “I assumed you knew the risks of associating yourself with this kind of thing. My mistake. Consider it all a learning exercise.”

He sighed and ran a hand back through his hair. Something almost faltered there, for a moment, and I genuinely believed that he was going to just go along with her to some secure place. That the risks would be too high, and he’d just rather sit it all out on the sidelines. But then, that glimmer hardened, and something seemed to set within him, and he just nodded with acceptance. Not with resignation, though. This was more confident. Like an embracing of responsibility.

It was in that split second, that complete change, that I saw the man I’d, for whatever reason, come to admire over the last nine months. Just like when he’d turned down the girl at the hotel, just like when he’d come crashing in through my living room window, this was the Hunter I’d begun to actually respect and appreciate. The one who didn’t shirk responsibility, but could actually step up and be a man.

“Yes, I understand,” he said, his voice resolute. “It’s either all in, or nothing at all.”

“I can assume you’re in, as you say?”

“Yes. I assure you. I am.”

“Good. Then please, allow me to continue.”

When I looked over at him again, I realized he was looking right at me. I couldn’t help but lock eyes with him…and smile.

We were going to war. And we were doing it together.