Page 58 of Exit Strategy

Kurt…

Getting to Indigo City was easy enough, after getting through the horror show of DC traffic. It was one of the few times that I regretted having the stick shift in the truck instead of the electronic tranny that the sedan had. But I didn’t drive that car – I sat in it and could tell it where to take me and the thing would actually drive itself, for the most part. I didn’t like being a passenger in my own driver’s seat. Crossing the Chesapeake was a slightly different matter, either heading around land side and going through Annapolis or skirting south to pick up the Chesapeake Bay Bridge. That meant getting into the outskirts of Norfolk.

DC was just busy, lots of traffic. I didn’t like the idea of going through places that were deeply tied to branches of military. Senators and lobbyists liked their anonymity and privacy to do the shite they did. Given some of the things that were in those other cities, there would be security, smart systems, and the sort of things a tech savvy group could access one way or another. I didn’t want to go through either of those, but it wouldn’t be that big of a deal for us to hit Indigo and see about a ferry crossing over.

But that wasn’t important. What was important was meeting up with Captain Roan. He was the one who knew about making good on a bad situation. We both left the military at the same time, on the same slate of shite, and I was a cross-country fugitive with a few dozen dollars left to my name, an old truck, and enough weaponry to arm a small insurrection.

And Calanthe.

The reception was warm, much more so than I had expected.

The new house was impressive too. I had been in it before, back when I was working for the Escadrille Cartel, but I didn’t recognize it. There was almost nothing left that I recognized other than the smashing full-length windows in the kitchen, facing the Chesapeake Bay. Bloody hell, that room had to have turned into a sauna every morning.

Maybe it was for the view?

The last time I was greeted like this, it was just outside of Kandahar, Afghanistan. The situation had been a bit better. Sure, there were a few thousand Taliban racing to engage us, and we had lost half of our vehicles, were almost out of ammo, and the last chopper supporting us had flown away trailing smoke, but we had reached an American firebase.

That was what this felt like. Sadie was the medical staff rushing out to grab our wounded and pull us back in with painkillers, and bandages, and a surgical hospital to turn the walking dead into decorated heroes ready to go home. Lachlan, he didn’t say much, but I had seen that sort of face. Men who looked like him were the wolves who went tearing into the middle of any opposition with attack helicopters and tanks, or nothing but their bare hands, and they came home and told everyone they were safe. Then the captain, with his bum leg, was the CO sitting at the desk, wanting to know just what in the bloody hell had been going on for the last seventy-two hours. Any other officer might have yelled and thrown things. Instead, Roan would steeple his fingers, give you a sideways look, and suddenly it was like sitting in an exposed confession booth.

* * *

“You can relax,”Roan said. “They know how to pour a proper pint here.”

“I’m not sure if I’ll be able to relax for a while, sir,” I said. The pint was properly poured and even more, it was the right temperature. That was one of the charms of the Black Watch. I could feel a calmness moving through me, not relaxing, not yet. Being back at the pub, reconnecting with the captain, a second time even, and knowing that things should be stable now, put me at a sort of ease but I couldn’t let my guard down. Not knowing New Eden.

I took another sip of Guinness. God, it was so wonderful having a proper pint, almost like my own personal reverie.

So many Americans were obsessed with getting the beer as absolutely cold as possible. The colder something was, the less you could actually taste it, which made sense for so many American beers. A cool, but not cold Guinness and Harp, and a full English breakfast down to the beans and black sausage, it was almost like being home again. I let out a breath. “As nice as this place is, I’m surprised it’s not you wiping down the bar.”

“You’ll never catch me on the backside of a bar, mate,” he smiled. “A little too much temptation on that side.”

“I can’t thank you enough, sir,” I said.

“Why don’t you start from the beginning. The emails have been a little chaotic, and don’t call me sir, we’re not in the Corps anymore.”

“That just feels off, but as you say,” I said, biting the sir off at the end. “So, I took that reference and got on as security chief for Arik Rex, through New Eden. First couple of months, easy peasy. Most everyone was professional – followed orders, though there were almost no other people with any military experience. Lots of ex-cops, mall-security types, some bouncers looking to move up into legit work, things like that.” Roan nodded.

“Then I found out what sort of person Arik Rex is.”

“Womanizer?” he guessed, taking a drink of his own pint.

“And then some – physically abusive and controlling.”

“Did you playThe Bodyguard?” he asked.

“No, I was literally going to Arik’s office to confront him about beating his wife, and to tender my resignation. Legally it was all I could do, since I signed several NDAs to not publicly disclose any of his personal business, or the production company, or New Eden.”

“This is where it went tits up?”

“Yeah, to say the least. Arik was in a full rage, had Calanthe down on the couch and was using her head as a punching bag. Full knuckles to the skull, like I’m sure he was breaking his own fingers the way he was hitting her.” I paused and drained the pint.

“You need another?”

I nodded. He gestured and the barkeep bobbed his head.

“Then what, lad?”

“I pulled him off her and put him on the ground and to sleep. He got in a few licks, hit me with one of his awards, but I didn’t leave any marks on him. That seemed important at the time. If he had like a broken nose or dislocated shoulder that could be medical evidence.”

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