Lin looked around at the room. “It’s too late for me to go home. I will sleep there.” He pointed at the couch, and then his face brightened. “You have pizza. I’m starved.” Lin went to the dinner table and helped himself.
Faust was patting Jim on the cheek.
“Leave him,” Roen said.
“What if he has important intel?”
“We’re in no position to mount anything actionable anyway,” Roen replied. “Get some shuteye.”
Roen watched with a sense of resignation as Lin finished inhaling a slice of pizza and then lay down on the couch, the only place with cushions. Stan magically appeared with a blanket and pillow, offering them to Lin as if they were tribute. Roen later found out it was the only pillow and blanket in the entire place.
“I don’t suppose you have a nice place we can stay, Master?” he asked hopefully.
Lin chuckled. “A very nice place. I had a very nice pension with the Prophus. You are crazy if you think I’m going to risk it for you sorry lot.”
A total pipe dream.
“Ah, well, it was worth a try. Tao, we get pension?”
That program was canceled years before you joined. On account of us losing the war and all.
“Man, I want pension.”
I am still working on that Brazilian lingerie model you asked for five years ago.
Roen waited until the rest of the team settled in and then took an unused corner in the kitchen. Before he turned in, he took the time to clean out his pistol. The soothing ritual helped clear his mind as he went through the process of disassembling the gun and wiping down each part. When he finished, he placed it in its holster, stood up and stretched. His back wasn’t happy about being hunched over for so long, another indication of the wear and tear on his body.
He made one final jaunt around the apartment to check up on his men. He nodded to Grant, who was on watch, and then brushed his teeth with his forefinger in the kitchen sink. Toothbrushes were another casualty of the night’s escape.
“Excuse me, sir,” Grant said as Roen turned to leave. “Those stories about Lin, are they true? Is he as good as everyone says he is?”
“Even better,” Roen replied, chest puffing up a little. Lin was his master after all.
Get some sleep. Tomorrow’s another long day. The team is fragile and will need your leadership.
“What leadership?”
That is why it will be a long day.
TWENTY-TWO
TRAINING
During the hundred years that we stayed in Europe, I climbed the ranks of French and Prussian nobility while Yol moved in philosopher circles. Eventually, I reached the pinnacle of the empire and my host became the Royal Prince, Archduke Franz Ferdinand, at the time still a young child.
Nobility of birth, however, did not guarantee nobility of stature. Franz was a strange host. He was hard to influence, and prone to reckless and self-involved ways. I admit that he would have made a terrible emperor. However, we will never discover what his rule could have been. The Black Hand who assassinated Franz and his wife Sophie saw to that. Unfortunately, it also paved the way for the Great War.
Baji
Jill stared at the black hole of the gun barrel pointing at her.
Uneven ground, fifteen degree slant. Cover to your right, three shrubs and a cliff edge. A flat clearing to the left. Go now!
She dove just as Marco pulled the trigger. The hammer slammed down on the empty chamber with a loud click. She rolled off her shoulder into a kneeling position, her own pistol pointing at his head.
Well done.
“Good,” he remarked. “Again. This time, don’t telegraph. Your eyes wandered. Trust Baji’s signals.”
Jill nodded. They were three weeks into her training and had just started integrating free running into combat. They were working on basic techniques, from coordinating leg and hand movements during a climb to tucking the body during a jump to rolling out of a high drop. It was physically exhausting, and she went home every night a walking mass of welts, but she was starting to get the hang of it. Tonight, the ground was a wet mush of dirt, gravel, and grass, which left her looking like she was wearing a ghillie suit. If anyone from the Hill saw this, it would probably end her career.
They rehearsed the encounter several more times, each time putting her through a different scenario. At a distance, she trained to juke and angle toward cover. Close up, she was taught to dive forward and sweep her assailant’s legs. And as a last resort, she now carried a rack of knives strapped to her thigh.
This was the plan that Baji and Marco had devised for her self-defense: dodge, counter, and flee. They called it her Flight and Flight tactic. It took Jill a while to warm up to it, but eventually, she found herself enjoying the game. It was a demanding mental exercise and wasn’t yet second nature, but she was getting the hang of it.
Always have a dodge direction ready. Angle at opponent’s sixty degrees. Stick and move.
“Alright,” Marco said an hour into their session. “Let’s free run.”
Jill grinned. This was her favorite part. She took off and disappeared into the forest, hurdling over rocks and brushes. A second later, she heard Marco crashing through the trees behind her. The forest was dark but her eyes had already adjusted and as long as she paid attention, she was fairly confident she wouldn’t smash into anything.
She scanned ahead and zigzagged around cover, constantly taking angles and changing directions to throw him off her trail. She grabbed a tree trunk to her right, swinging around and changing directions without slowing down. She caught a glimpse of him cutting toward her. She jumped over a fallen log and flattened herself to the ground, her pistol aimed up. A moment later, Marco passed by and she pulled the trigger. He stopped when he heard the click.
“Good,” he said. “Continue.”
Jill smirked, held up one finger, and then took off running again. They played this game of tag for another five minutes until she found her next ambush point. She scampered up a short cliff, using free running to climb over a three-meter rock. A moment later, Marco passed by and she pulled the trigger again. She held up two fingers once he acknowledged the kill.
The next few attempts weren’t as successful. When they reached a clearing with sparse coverage he drew his gun at the same time she did. That was a point for him. It was imperative she always drew first. The last encounter was near the river. Jill crossed the brook, backtracked upstream and doubled back. Several minutes later, she caught sight of Marco and tried to get the jump on him.
But just as she was about to pull the trigger, he heard her rustling among the leaves and faded back into the woods. They played a game of cat and mouse, each looking for an opening. However, Marco won this round and somehow corralled her back to the river.
He advanced on her with a large smile on his face. “Situation change. Holster your sidearm.”
You should have retreated and regrouped.
“Duly noted.”
Jill grimaced, put her pistol in its holster and crouched, trying to make herself a smaller target. She tried to circle away from the river, but he cut her off. Watching his eyes, she stayed out of his arm’s length as he advanced.
Right thirty degrees… now!
She dove toward the river bed and rolled onto her feet as he pulled the trigger.
Sixty left… now!
Again she just got out of Marco’s sights.
Two meters range. Attack!
Jill instinctively followed Baji’s instructions. She slid in close to Marco and kicked at his legs. She felt the satisfying contact of her heel digging into his ankle as he readjusted his aim. The blow knocked him off balance. Unfortunately, he toppled directly on top of her. She grunted as her body cushioned his fall.