"Thank you, sir."
He watched as Browning's hands flew about in a blur, quickly assembling a pistol. Browning may have been old, but he'd done this millions of times. He continued working as he spoke, "I hail from a persecuted people, Mr. Sullivan. My family was driven from place to place. We would build a home, only to be forced out by mobs and murderers. I've seen persecution firsthand. That is why I joined the Society. I became a knight of the Grimnoir because no one should have to bear such cruel treatment." He worked the slide several times and checked the trigger, nodding in satisfaction. "Excellent."
Sullivan did not recognize the pistol. It looked like the old favored 1911 that he'd broken, only fatter, and with a concealed hammer. Dozens of tiny designs had been hand carved into the metal grips.
"I have lived a very long time. The last few years have been on borrowed time thanks to magical Healing. Yet, even in my old age, I've yet to see the end of violence against the innocent… I provide the weapons to prevent such things. Whatever task Black Jack gave you, Mr. Sullivan, please do not let him down."
"Yes, sir," he answered as Browning passed the pistol over. He took it tenderly. It even felt like his old 1911, just thicker, which was more comfortable in his big hand. The sights were bigger and easier to see than he was used to. It felt like it had been made for him.
"The M1921, designed for Army Brutes, except the contract was cancelled. Based on my 1908, only with fourteen rounds of.45 automatic in a staggered column magazine. It is the only one of its kind, so please do not lose it. There are twenty magazines in the box on that top shelf. I will provide ammunition, as well as any supplies you need, including money. J. Edgar Hoover has been sent a telegram stating that the Army has requested your services at the American Battle Monuments Commission. Unfortunately. the Army will require you to be out of the country and unable to communicate for the foreseeable future. If anyone asks, you are detailed to the staff of one Colonel Eisenhower. Hoover will not like it, but the General had many friends. Do you still have his ring?"
He pulled it out of his shirt pocket. "I do."
"I believe he would want you to keep it. You will need it as a full member of the Grimnoir Society. Should you accept, I will administer the oath to you before you leave. It will provide a small measure of magical protection."
"I thought that your bosses said no new members?"
"Bureaucrats are the same in every endeavor, even magical ones. I do not know what your assignment is, but I will not have Black Jack's dying wish denied because of me. When will you be departing?"
Sullivan thought about it for a moment as he inspected the pistol. He needed to get to Southunder as fast as possible, but he'd started on this quest for personal reasons, and he wasn't the type of man who left things unfinished. "I've got one last thing to do." Lick Hill, California Madi folded his arms and rested them across the roof of the automobile. The summer sun beat down on him. Across the fields of waving yellow grass and small hills sat the power plant; beyond the smoking stacks was a ravine, and then the largest hill in the area. The narrow steel-strut tower that rose from the plant seemed somehow too tall. In a way, it was every bit as unnatural as he, an aberration in the laws of physics, created from wild Cog imaginings.
"What do you think?" he asked the advance scout from the Shadow Guard contingent.
The young woman removed her sunglasses and studied the tower's defenses. She did not need a telescope any more than he did, revealing that she surely wore the kanji granting the vision of a hawk. "They are complacent."
Her assessment matched his own. He'd studied this location carefully when the Chairman had commissioned the study of weak points in the American defenses. The fact that they were able to park so close was a testament to Americans' foolish pride. There were half a dozen other automobiles parked along the road here as well, mostly travelers stopping to gape at one of the legendary Peace Rays. Pathetic. "Can you take it?"
"Easily. Judging from the number of vehicles, traffic, and visible guards, I would say that they are understaffed. Even if they have any Actives, we will take them by surprise," she stated. It was a well-known fact that the military had atrophied since the last war left the country in an isolationist stupor. After all, who could invade a country that had so many Peace Rays? "It will take at least twenty minutes for reinforcements to arrive. Their lack of fear has made them soft."
"We'll have to remedy that…" he muttered, glancing over at the Shadow Guard. The fact that she was female meant nothing. The Shadow Guard was made up of Fades and Travelers, perfect assassins. The Chairman would never waste one, even if they were of the weaker sex, but he'd been surprised to find that she was as white as he was.
She caught him looking, and turned her eerie grey eyes on him. Her hair was dark red. She obviously knew what he was thinking. "My parents were British missionaries in Burma when it fell. I was raised in an Imperium school. It was a great honor. As you are well aware, a Caucasian is able to do more among the Americans without arousing suspicion." She put the cheaters back on to hide her unnatural eyes.
She was beautiful, and she knew it. Madi was impressed with the way that her every unconscious move managed to display her perfect body just enough to keep his constant attention. The Shinobi Academy had taught her well. Seduction was a valuable tool of espionage. Even if she wasn't a Traveler, he had no doubt that she would be an effective tool. "What do they call you?"
"For the purposes of this mission, my identity is Gladys Mays of Toledo, Ohio. In the academy, I took the name Toshiko." She returned his gaze without fear. That was something else he would have to fix. Madi had masters and he had followers. He didn't have equals.
He'd taken so many kanji onto his body that all physical sensations had become dull. He had taken to cutting himself with a razor just so he could feel. It was a rare occasion to find a woman that got his attention. Madi decided he would take her for himself when this mission was complete. He'd see just what tricks the academy had taught her, and he'd consider it his reward. Being an Iron Guard had its privileges.
"Brief your men, Toshiko. We strike tonight…" Mar Pacificia, California Francis had watched Faye training for the last hour. She was learning at a frightening speed, and he found it nearly impossible to keep track of how fast she popped in and out of sight, appearing suddenly at totally unexpected directions and speeds. Lance was clearly befuddled trying to keep up. Though he knew it was impossible, the girl didn't seem to be capable of running out of Power.
He had needed to do something to get his mind off his grief, and his first inclination had been to raid the liquor cabinet and drink himself incoherent on his family's finest vintages, but he knew that the General would have disapproved. Pershing had been like a father to him, far better than the man who'd spawned him.
His father hadn't been a bad man per se, simply weak. He was a politician first, human being a distant second. He was the type who tested the wind before stating an opinion. There were no truths, only the path that had the least economic repercussions. When he'd been appointed ambassador, and had seen the Imperium's evil firsthand, even that hadn't been enough to goad him into taking a stand. Francis, on the other hand, had left Japan haunted with nightmares from the things he had seen.
He was a Mover from a long line of Movers, only he was far more talented than his forbearers. To them, it was just a parlor trick, something that could become an embarrassment should it ever become public knowledge, and he had constantly been admonished to keep his Power secret. General Pershing had seen his talent, recognized his potential, and had shown him how he could use it to make things right. Pershing had taught him how to be a man. He owed him his life, except now he was gone.