Soldier of Fortune
Chapter 22

Gideon was pleased to find that Tiago had been correct; the tunnels were stable. Even better, the cops didn’t seem to know they existed.

All of which was good.

Less good was the fact that the light shafts which had once illuminated the tunnels had long since collapsed, so their vision was limited to the narrow beam Tiago’s torch provided.

“You’re counting again,” Mia said.

“Sorry.” Gideon stopped.

“What are you counting, anyway?”

“Steps.”

She angled to stare up at him, half her face illuminated by the torch. “Why?”

“Long story,” he said.

She looked as if she wanted to ask about the long story, but Gideon started moving again, leaving her little choice but to follow.

Eventually (after another 223 steps) Mia came to a stop.

“Here we are,” she said, pushing through a half-open door.

“And here is?” Gideon asked, following into a basement that looked pretty much like Tiago’s, except here there was a sliver of window letting in just enough light to see a floor covered in dust, rodent droppings, and gnawed-up bits of paper and wood.

“Part of a school,” she explained. “Ain’t been used since the blitz.”

Something in her voice had him looking more closely at her. “How do you know about it?”

She looked at him. “Long story.”

Had that coming, he thought, then strode over to peer out the window. “How safe is this place?”

“Safe as houses,” Mia said, finding a relatively clean spot on the floor to hunker down.

Gideon turned from the empty street to look at her. “Have you seen the houses around here?”

“Double double ain’t no trouble gonna find us here, safe,” she clarified.

That would have to do. “In that case,” he said, crouching in front of where she’d folded herself into a small, hunched knot, “it’s time to come up with a plan.”

“For Wendell?”

“For everyone.” He looked down at his hands, bruised and scraped and marked as a traitor, then up to see her watching him, her dark eyes uncertain in the dim light. “Starting with Celia Rand.”

“The one who’s a spy?”

“The one who’s a spy. And then, of course, there’s Killian Del, and the Fagin Ellison issue is still pending.”

There was a silence as she stared, then looked down at her own grubby hands. “I thought you said you was done.” Sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ (ꜰind)ɴʘvel.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“Were done, and I thought I was.” Had thought so, for too many years. “Guess I was wrong.”

Of course it wouldn’t be simple.

Gideon’s intention—to net Celia, Del, Wendell, and Ellison—would each require several elements.

First, an irresistible lure; second, no possibility of collateral damage; and third—

“—more than just you, me, and Elvis to execute properly,” Gideon explained.

“I thought there weren’t to be no killing,” Mia said, her face splitting in a yawn.

“Wasn’t, and any,” Gideon corrected before he caught the yawn contagion himself. “In this case, execute means . . . facilitate. We need a team if we’re going to facilitate the plan,” he clarified, then fought off another yawn. “And maybe a nap.”

“You go ahead. I’m fine.”

Gideon looked at Mia, whose eyes were at half-mast. “Uh-huh.”

“Well, I am. And anyway, don’t you want someone t’keep watch?”

“Elvis will let us know if anyone gets too close. He has ears like a draco.”

She groaned.

“Yes, the joke is lame,” Gideon admitted, “but he does. Come on.” He patted the floor as if it were a nice comfy mattress. “It’s been a long night for both of us, and you didn’t even get a morph nap like I did.”

“Fine,” she said, huddling up to the wall, “but don’t blame me if the bad guys come upon us all unawares and like that.”

“I promise, if any bad guys come upon us unawares and like that, I’ll take full responsibility.” He leaned against the wall and stretched his legs out in front of him, crossing at the ankle while Mia curled up next to him, grumbling only a little.

Elvis, who’d been roosting on the spindle of a broken chair propped in a corner, hopped over and stretched himself out on Gideon’s leg.

Gideon let his head fall back against the chill wall while Mia’s breathing slowed and Elvis’s tail ceased to twitch.

It was almost homey, he thought.

Except for the creeping damp.

And the fact he was being hunted.

And that Celia had his coat.

Gideon felt a shiver at his side and, without thinking, draped an arm over the sleeping dodger and was surprised when she burrowed deeper under his shoulder.

It was the sort of thing he thought a daughter might do, if he and Dani had ever . . .

“How long will you be away, do you think?” Dani asked, leaning her chin on her crossed arms, her hair spilling over the pillow like black rain.

“No more than a month,” Gideon said. “Less if there are no Midasians involved. What about you?”

“One week out to the drop zone, we do what we do in a day.”

“Cocky.”

“Confident,” she corrected. “Another two days for the ’ship to scour the region, and a week back for resupply.”

“Which means you’ll be out on another mission by the time I get back.”

“Life in the Corps,” she said, turning to her side so they were eye to eye. “The war won’t last forever.”

Gideon wished he could borrow some of her determined optimism, but he’d been up close and personal with the enemy for far longer.

Dani’s home colony of Fuji lay too far west for the Coalition forces to easily reach, meaning she’d grown up far from the conflict. Her childhood, at least, had been unclouded by air strikes and occupations and reprisals . . .

“Hey,” she tapped the pillow, “Fortune to Quinn.”

“Sorry,” he said, but he did push down thoughts of endless battles to focus on the woman currently sharing his bed. It was still difficult for him to believe she was here. “You were saying?”

“I was saying when it’s over, you could come home with me.”

“Home,” he repeated the word, which felt foreign on his tongue.

“You’ll like Tendo,” Dani continued. “All of Fuji is beautiful, but Tendo’s tree line goes all the way to the ocean, and we have snow in the winter. Kids,” she added meaningfully, “really love snow.”

Home, he thought, staring, and kids.

Practically in the same breath.

“Why are you looking at me that way? And if it’s because you don’t want children—”

“What? No,” he said. “I mean yes. I mean,” he paused, because he wasn’t sure what he meant.

“Gideon? You’re staring.”

“Because you’re not real.” The words fell out before he could stop them. “I keep looking at you because I can’t believe you’re real,” he admitted in a rush and then backtracked. “What I mean is, you couldn’t—shouldn’t—be here. Not with me, I mean.

“Keepers!” He flung himself onto his back and pressed his arm over his eyes. “Never mind. Just shoot me now and put me out of your misery.”

“No, I think I understand,” she said, pulling his arm down. “I’m just too good to be true, is that it?”

“You’re too good for me,” he said, meaning it.

“True,” Dani said, though she was smiling as she said it, “but I’m also human, and therefore as flawed as the next person.”

“Well, you do have odd taste in music,” he said, trying to match her tone and failing miserably.

“Gideon,” she murmured his name softly, then propped herself up on one elbow so she could trace her fingers along the line of his jaw, slowly and carefully, as if she were an artist and he her pallet. “Do you really need a reason for my being here?”

“No,” he said, then sighed. “Maybe?”

She smiled. “Then let’s just say that nature abhors a vacuum.”

Ah, well, yes, that explained everything. Not. “So, what, I sucked you in?” he asked, though as her hand continued to explore, he started to lose the thread of the conversation.

Her smile went a little sad. “You have a big, empty space, in here,” she told him, tapping his heart. Then she leaned closer, her warm lips brushing his neck, then his cheek, until they reached his ear where she could whisper, “Makes me want to fill up all the lonely.”

“Hallooo, Fortune to Gideon!”

“Dani?” Gideon shot up from his crooked slump, dislodging Elvis and causing an unfortunate twang in his neck.

“Who’s Dani?” Mia asked.

Gideon let out a pained breath. “No one,” he said, hating that his voice sounded hollow—as it would if he had a big, empty space inside.

A Dani-shaped space.

Mia just looked at him, one hand soothing Elvis.

“Someone,” he admitted. “Just . . . someone.”

Mia looked at Elvis, who looked at her. The two seemed to have formed a bond. It was a comfort to Gideon, as it meant they’d be able to look after each other if the plan went swarm.

“Okay.” He scrubbed his face the rest of the way awake. “Where were we?”

Mia’s head tilted. “You was saying we needed an irresistible setup, no possibility of collateral damage, and a team.”

“Were say—never mind.” He shook his head, crossed his legs, and leaned forward on his knees. “First order of business, the team.”

“This Dani gonna be part of it?”

“No,” he said after a short beat, “but I think I know who will.”

Then he told her.

Then he waited for her to stop laughing. “It’s not that crazy,” he said.

“The only thing more crazy is you thinking it’s not that crazy.”

“Maybe it’s a little crazy, but it’s an important part of the plan.”

“I think I changed my mind,” she said, sitting back on her heels. “You’re better off quitting. Take your draco and run for it.”

“Ha,” he said.

“I’m serious,” she said back.

“Okay.” He straightened, mostly because he’d been hunched over so long. The light seeping through the small window had thinned some, as the suns rose above the nearby rooftops. “What, in particular, worries you?”

“What doesn’t?”

“Listen, even if the guy’s not as decent as you supposed, he’s going to be more interested in getting to me than giving you grief. It’ll be honey in the comb.”

“Promise?” she asked.

He looked at her. “If I promised, I’d be lying, and I won’t lie to you.”

“In that case,” she said, “I’ll do it.”

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