Night In A Waste Land (Hell Theory #2) - Lauren Gilley Page 0,70
relieve us out here, and fewer conduits besides, that we treat it like an op. Us. Golden Company. We’ve got your dagger, and lots of experience under our belt. And, hell, we’ve got Morgan. We’ll be careful, and covert, and…” He trailed off when she frowned. “What?”
“If a company of Walkers could take care of it, why has the army waited until now to put that forward?”
“They didn’t put it forward. I did.”
Her brows finally lifted, high up on her forehead, the rest of her expression smoothing. “Why?”
He sighed. This was the part that she really wouldn’t like. “I don’t suppose you keep up with the news?”
“It’s all shit. What’s there to keep up with?”
“Do you at least know that the British Prime Minster was in town a month ago? Or, well, in DC?”
“Vaguely.”
“It’s the first PM they’ve had since the London gangs wrested control from the government. The first since the First Rift.”
“Lance.”
“Right, well, he brought his family. It was a lot of trouble and hassle, and the government was trying to keep it all under wraps – but the vehicle was attacked on the drive between bases. The Prime Minister’s son, Logan, was kidnapped. He’s being held for ransom by a New York gangster named Timothy Shubert.”
She sighed. “And they want him rescued.”
“They asked if anyone had the skills to rescue him. Shubert and his people are demanding a ransom. The PM is willing to pay it, but Shubert said the best they’ll do is turn him loose.”
“Which puts a civilian walking through hell, as you put it, alone and unarmed.”
His pulse beat faster telling her than it had while proposing it to Captain Bedlam. “I suggested an extraction. And, before that, an assassination.”
Her gaze narrowed. “Of Shubert, or his whole outfit?”
“As many of the bastards as we can take out.”
She studied him a moment, then nodded, and turned back to scan the map. “When?”
“We’ll spend a week preparing. Draw up a strategy, make sure we’ve got enough weapons.”
Another nod. “What about Morgan?”
“What about her?”
Rose looked at him again, scrutinizing. “You brought her up. I think we should at least ask her if she’d be willing to come along and help.”
“Bedlam won’t like that.”
“Bedlam’s willing to let us walk into a shitshow. If we want to take our own secret weapon, where does she get off telling us no?”
He couldn’t help a chuckle. “You know, sometimes I don’t think you understand how this whole being in the military thing works.”
She snorted, and glanced toward the wall, her shoulders settling; a subtle squaring-up that, even naked and rumpled, left her as regal as a queen. “There’s a difference between understanding and approving.”
He wanted to tuck her hair behind her ear – but didn’t. “Yeah. I guess you’re right.”
~*~
The Present
Tris slapped his hands down on the opposite side of the table, sending up a wave of dust and mold spores. His expression, when Lance met it, sparked with uncharacteristic aggression. “You understand this is fucking stupid, right? Or did you hit your head?”
Lance took a slow, measured breath, in and out. His nerves were already buzzing, and if he let it, Tris’s obvious, outwardly-projected anger would touch his own carefully-banked fury like a match to paper. “Look, I know it’s not ideal–”
“It’s fucking suicidal.”
“We agreed,” Lance snapped. “We took a vote before we ever left for Wales, and you, and Gallo, and Gavin all put your hands up and said you’d come along, and you’d help, and that you wanted to stay a part of this company, no matter what happened with Becket.”
A muscle in Tris’s jaw worked. “I didn’t think she’d actually be able to bring him back.”
“Well, she did, and he’s here, and we asked him for help, which means we’re not calling the shots anymore. I’m not – I’m not in command.” His breath caught at the end, chest squeezing tight. Holy shit, he’d thrown away his own command, and for what? To make Rose happy?
No, he told himself. Because they were in over their heads and needed help, even winged, tailed, potentially demonic help who’d most definitely just had sex with his girlfriend.
“If you want out, then radio base,” Lance said, more harshly than intended – harshly enough that Tris’s face blanked. “But I’m staying here, and figuring out how to - to–” He gestured helplessly to the map he’d spread out. “Do something about all this. Fuck. I don’t know. Whatever.”
Tris straightened. His voice lowered – footsteps sounded outside the massive dining room, echoing in