In his grief, the man fell into the woman’s lap. To Nina, the woman appeared shell-shocked and sad but strong. She kept her own heartache at bay and held the man in her lap, stroking his hair gently and whispering something-some attempt at comfort-into his ear.
The sight amazed Nina. Such strength, but such compassion. She wondered-she wondered if she…
“I am tired of this game! I don’t want to be the leader anymore. I don’t want to have peoples’ lives depending on what I say. I don’t want to fight anymore. I want to go hide and cry myself to sleep. I don’t want to be strong and sure and none of that shit ANY-MORE!”
Nina said nothing. What could she say?
“There’s your great leader, Nina. I’m not the man you think I am. I’m Richard Stone. I sell Chevrolets. I live at home with my parents. I don’t know who this Trevor guy is. I don’t think I like him very much.”
Nina forced an arm around him. He tried to pull free, but she would not let go. She tugged him close. He started to push free again but instead began to sob.
“Let it out-you can-you can let it all out with me. You can try and chase me away, but I’m not going away.”
He buried his face in her lap.
Nina stroked his head and told her lover, “I know Trevor Stone. He’s got a tough job, but he does the best he can; better than anyone else could do. I know it used to be a lonely job but that’s not true anymore. Trevor Stone is never alone as long as I’m here. As for this Richard Stone guy, I’ve seen him from time to time. And you know what? I love him, too. So I don’t care who is here next to me, Trevor or Richard. You don’t have to hide from me. But when you need me to, I’ll hide with you-in the dark.”
Without thought, without planning, Nina found that, yes, she could give comfort to another human being. She could do more than kill; she could deliver mercy, too…
Nina felt the world spin. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to find mental balance. Instead, she heard voices from a past she should not remember; she felt the satisfaction in holding Trevor in her lap and shepherding him through a night of misery. She felt the chill of a December evening as she stood on a balcony in that black dress and he gave her their new world; the world they were trying to remake.
Why now? Why am I remembering all this now?
The bridge to Trevor’s mind through that old man-had that given her Trevor’s memories of them being together or had that power somehow unlocked hidden secrets that survived the removal of the implant? Or was it more? That old man-he was no old man; he was something of much higher power. Being so close to something so powerful-could that be the reason?
“Enough.”
She spoke aloud to herself.
They took control from me when they stole my memories. And now they are returning but I refuse to let them control me. I will not be distracted. I have a mission.
She opened her eyes again and surveyed the ragtag group of survivors rummaging through the supply crate. Vince Caesar approached her with a sealed envelope that had been mixed in with the supplies.
“I think your buddy Gordon Knox sent us something,” Caesar said.
She opened the envelope and found a map and aerial photos.
One of the survivors from the fort approached. It was the man in BDUs with his arm in a sling. The rank on his shoulder said ‘corporal’.
“Excuse me, Captain; can I join up with you? I still have some fight left in me.”
He held his arm in a sling yet Nina wondered if he might not be a better choice than her; at least his mind remained focused on fighting.
No, I will not let these memories rule me. They were taken from me by force, now I will control their return. I am in control!
Vince jumped, “What about the rest of the them, Cap? We’ve got quite a haul here. We can’t take them with us but if we just let em’ hike away they’re going to come to a bad way.”
Nina ran a hand across her forehead both to wipe off sweat and to express frustration.
“Look, corporal, I need you to do something.”
“Anything you want, Captain.”
“Lead these people out of here. Take them to…” she glanced at the map sent to her by Intel and searched for a place where she might be able to send any survivors they might come across. “Take them to here-Clinton, Missouri.”
“What’s there?” The corporal asked.
“I don’t know. But it’s close enough to the front lines that maybe command can send in some choppers or something. Just stay as far away from KC as you can.”
“Nina,” Vince said, “the front lines, I think, are moving east every day.”
“Well it’s something, Vince.”
The corporal pointed out, “Captain, I’ve got a bum arm and there’s nothing but civvies here.”
“Listen, corporal, just about everyone was a civvie before all this. They’ll make do,” Nina considered, nodded to herself, and then called, “Odin, Campion, Mallow!”
The three dogs hurried to her position.
Nina placed a hand on the corporal’s shoulder, looked at the K9s, and instructed, “Protect. Follow.”
“Captain?”
“They’ll listen to you, just keep it simple. They won’t let anything sneak up on you.”
Nina knelt to the ground in front of Odin: the one consistent friend she’s had through all this. She patted him on the head and he licked her nose in affectionate response. It occurred to her that the elkhound probably had a better chance at survival than her.
Then she stood. The three K9s shuffled over to the corporal’s side.
Caesar asked, “What about us, Cap? They give us something fun to do?”
Nina glanced at the proposed target on the map and smiled.
It might be our last mission-but it’s going to be good.
15. Hammer and Anvil
“J’ai pris les armes pour la liberte de tous.”
Trevor bit into the final chunk of bread and savored the taste. The bread ranked as the best part of the meal, although the stew certainly stuck to his ribs despite only a few morsels of meat-probably pork-in a bowl of broth and old vegetables.
To his surprise, Jorgie did not complain or wrinkle his nose. Something in the broth (which hinted of red wine) captured the boy’s taste.
Hauser ate, too, but his not-so-well-hidden expressions of disdain indicated he certainly would have preferred more traditional cuisine. Back home old-world fair such as burgers, chicken breast, and cheese made a strong return after the liberation of the Midwest.
After two days in Europe, Trevor came to know that the majority of their diet consisted of seafood for those villages near the ocean or lakes and produce for the rest, such as vegetables and baked goods made from wheat and flour. Meat from cattle in the Murol area remained a rare luxury because there existed little excess crops for the creation of livestock feed and the trade routes to other fiefdoms had been greatly diminished after Voggoth’s European offensive last summer.
Wine, however, could be found. Apparently there were some sacrifices up with which the French would not put.
The trio of visitors sat at a wooden table in a cafe at the village center. Plastic plants decorated tadelakt walls on the inside while natural ivory grew on black metal latticework erected between the dining area and the side walk. The tables remained beneath shade but out beyond the reach of the protective awning a sunny day bloomed. Horses, bicycles, and pedestrians traveled the tiny street outside.
The tables inside were mainly full. Customers wore garb ranging from a variety of military clothes to borderline rags. A handful of waiters tried to keep pace with demand, but food came slow and what came did not usually match the quality of Trevor’s stew and bread. Nonetheless, the cafe maintained an aura of propriety. Conversations remained hushed; proper table manners observed; servers treated customers with politeness and received the same.