Enemy One (Epic Book 5) (43 page)

“That’s right. Antipov lost contact with Oleg shortly after EDEN attacked
Novosibirsk
. Right now, he doesn’t even know where they might be.”

The scout leaned forward with a follow-up. “But surely Oleg could’ve just lost his ability to communicate, right? He could be in hiding with her, or…” She shook her head, unable to find another example off the cuff.

“I’d love it if one of those possibilities was true, but by the sound of things, they are genuinely MIA. I mean, this is all coming from Antipov. He’s been giving me insight into
Vector
, for crying out loud. If Oleg or Svetlana was somewhere on his radar, he’d have let me know.”

Eyes narrowing, Esther asked, “Would he?”

Tightening his lips together then glancing briefly at Esther, Scott answered, “Yes, I think he would.” He hadn’t been sure how or even whether to bring this up—but if he was going to, this was as good a time as any. “One of the nurses here at
Northern Forge
is Antipov’s daughter.” Eyebrows across the Fourteenth shot up. “Her name is Marina. You’ll recognize her, if you’ve ever seen Antipov. I highly doubt Antipov would feed us too many lies with his daughter here with us.” Not that Scott would ever use her as leverage, but Antipov would still think of those things. “Frankly, Antipov has no reason to lie—and if he was going to lie, he’d probably try and convince us that Svetlana was just fine. For him to tell us this, it’s probably true.

“But the thing I want to say is this: my ability to function will not be compromised. You all know how I feel about Sveta.” Scott looked at the Falcons. “And I’m sure those of you new to this outfit are figuring it out now.” Nodding toward David, Scott made eye contact with several others directly down from him. “David has his wife and kids. Jay, you have your family. Falcons, you guys all have loved ones back home—fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers. No one here owns a monopoly on the pressure that that causes. We’re all suffering in our own way, even though we may not be saying it. So let’s keep that in mind when the stress levels rise—not that they aren’t high already.” He shook his head with disgust. “Then let’s blow the lid off EDEN Command, because those guys sure have it coming.”

“Amen to that,” said Lilan. Several others offered utterances of support.

When Scott paused, Valentin looked at him. “Is there anything else that needs to be discussed in this group meeting?”

Before Scott could answer, Esther chirped, “I think we should consider releasing Ju`bajai.”

Whoa
, Scott thought. She was on
that
train again?

Valentin looked at her scrupulously. “I already discussed this with Captain Remington. That request is absurd and not happening.”

Leaning forward at the table, Esther said, “I just
really
think we’re overlooking a valuable—”

Pointing to Esther, Valentin looked at Scott. “Is she deaf?”

Scott sighed. “No, she is not.”

“Scott, please,” she said.

“Esther.” The look Scott gave her could not have been more indicative of
no
. What would prompt her to even ask that here, after he’d already relayed Valentin’s prior answer to her? It was almost a little suspicious.

Closing her eyes in defeat, Esther leaned back in her chair.

“Are there any
relevant
questions?” Valentin asked the table. No one spoke. “Then we have many things to get started on.” He looked at Lilan. “Colonel, if you will come with me, I will bring you to the room where you will record the video message.” Lilan affirmed. “The rest of you are dismissed.” Without another word, he turned for the door and left. After giving Scott a brief look, Lilan followed the keeper out.

As the operatives began to dismiss, Scott’s attention went to Esther. “Ess, go talk to the forge master. The sooner he can get you in some tactical armor, the better.”

“Yes, sir.”

Scott snagged her as she tried to hurry past. “Hey.” She blinked her brown eyes at him. “Is there something going on with you and Ju`bajai?”

“What? What do you mean?”

“The way you asked for her release after I already told you what Lukin said. It was almost…” When she offered nothing back, he just shook his head. “Go get that armor.”

The scout lowered her chin. “Yes, sir.” Quickly, she left the room.

So this was it—the beginning of an operation. If the evidence that could blow this thing open was in
Nagoya
, then that’s where they’d go—someway, somehow. Despite his last conversation with Antipov, Scott was eager to speak with the eidola chief again. He was fairly certain Antipov would be equally eager, if for no other reason, to receive assurance that the Golden Lion hadn’t suffered some emotional break upon hearing about Svetlana. Slipping out of the room, Scott made his way to his quarters before anyone could intercept him.

As Scott knew it would, the conversation with Antipov went smoothly. The eidola chief confirmed what Lilan speculated: that
Nagoya
had in fact been the facility to receive the salvage from the
Interspecies Conflict
. Though Antipov had no initial ideas as of how to infiltrate
Nagoya
, he made it quite clear that there were some agents of his that had access—albeit limited. He requested that Scott give him a day or two, during which his resources would be tapped into from afar and a concrete plan could be formed. Scott was more than happy to hear it.

The only other business to tend to was business that wasn’t Scott’s responsibility. Shortly after his conversation with Antipov concluded, Scott was informed by Valentin that Lilan’s video message had been recorded. Not wanting to waste time by requesting that he review the video, Scott gave Valentin his blessing to send the video off to Moscow, trusting Lilan’s judgment to have done the job correctly.

Things were moving. The Fourteenth—and the Falcons—had direction. All compasses pointed to
Nagoya
. Soon, the truth would be unveiled, and the crimes of EDEN against its own would come to light.

Until then, it was time to start taking care of things at home. Or at least, their temporary home at
Northern Forge
. And for Scott, there was no better place to begin than with Max Axen.

*
      
*
      
*

Needless to say, this wasn’t what Scott had hoped for. Upon arriving at the medical bay on Level-4, Scott, David, Becan, and Jayden found themselves denied access to the room entirely. No update had been given to them regarding Max’s condition, and they hadn’t even spoken to Gavriil at all. All they knew was that work of some sort was in progress to get the technician “admitted.”

It was as helpless a feeling as Scott had felt in a very long time, at least as it pertained to someone being in the hospital—or a room that was the equivalent of one, anyway. It harkened back to the day Galina Lebesheva died, a victim of Scott’s blind fury and recklessness. That Max wasn’t Scott’s fault—at least, not directly—didn’t make the situation feel much better. More so than Galina, though, this reminded Scott of his parents.

It was a wound that rarely reopened. He was a teenager, barely old enough to make a good decision on his own, when he’d lost them to a drunk driver. His mother had been killed instantly in the almost-head-on collision. His father died several hours later at Lincoln General Hospital. He didn’t remember every detail of that night, as it seemed more like a blur than anything else, but he recalled being at the hospital, waiting to hear something. Anything.

Then wishing he’d heard nothing at all.

Prior to the events at
Novosibirsk
, it had been the worst night of his life and a subject of much bitterness until he’d learned to accept it. He never dreamed it would be a night that would prepare him for the rest of his life. Nicole. Sergei Steklov, the young man he murdered. Galina. Svetlana was only the latest victim.

But Svetlana was still out there.

Sighing deeply, Scott leaned back against the wall and waited. At some point, they’d have to hear something. Gavriil’s crew knew they were out there. It was just a matter of time before the door opened with news.

The door opened. As all four of the operatives leapt upright, Gavriil himself walked through it. “Well, I have news.”

About vecking time.

“Your friend is in stable condition,” the doctor said, much to the relief of Scott and company. “That was not a given, considering the way he was removed from Novosibirsk Hospital and secretly transported here. But, he is okay.”

“Can you elaborate on that?” Scott asked, echoing the question on all of their minds.

Gavriil nodded. “He seems to have received a bullet wound right here,” he said, pointing to a spot on the right side of his throat. “I have seen some forge workers who received injuries such as these from one means or another—very few of them survive. Your friend is lucky.” He crossed his arms. “As far as the details of his condition, I am afraid I will not be able to tell you as much as you’d like to hear. We are receiving him
post
-treatment for his wound.”

Not wild about that opening statement, Scott listened on.

“He has a tracheostomy tube in his neck to support his airway due to the injury he sustained. He is attached to a ventilator, which is helping him breathe, so we are keeping him sedated. The last thing we want is for him to start ripping things out. We will likely try to ween him slowly off of sedation, but…no offense, we would rather not have any of you present while we do that. He will likely be very disoriented and not even himself. Even after he is awake, he still may require medication to keep him calm. Think days for this process, not hours.” The doctor sighed. “He also has a chest tube, meaning he must have had a lung collapse, but that has also been dealt with by whoever treated him. I am hopeful that that can be removed soon. The tracheostomy tube may or may not be permanent, too. Sometimes they are only needed temporarily.” Smiling sadly, he said, “And that is all that I know.”

It wasn’t much, but Scott was thankful to hear it all. It was better than not knowing anything. “What’s his prognosis?”

“His prognosis? I am confident he will survive.”

That was good. “Do you think he’ll be able to recover fully?”

For several seconds, Gavriil simply stared, the emotionless expression on his face indicating that the answer they were about to receive was not one that they wanted. Drawing a breath, the doctor said simply, “I do not know. We will have to observe and see. We are receiving him after the fact.” Seeming to judge by the looks on the others’ faces that his answer wasn’t as informative as they’d hoped, he said, “Speaking, eating, drinking. All of these things become part of the challenge when you have a tracheostomy tube in your throat. He will have to relearn them to some extent.” He frowned. “Unfortunately, we do not have a resident respiratory therapist.” When the group looked at him despondently, he sighed. “Please listen and understand. Your friend is very,
very
lucky to be alive, let alone stable right now. He must have been treated relatively quickly after sustaining the gunshot wound. If not for that, I am positive he would have perished. We are not in a perfect position to know the exact road he must face to recovery. It does not appear that he suffered any brain damage from the limited chart information that came with him, but it will be easier to assess this once he is awake.”

“Can we at least go in and see him?” asked Jayden.

The doctor hesitated just enough to prompt the others to echo the request. At long last, under mounting pressure, he bowed his head in acquiescence. “I will allow you in to see him. He is sedated, so he will not know you are there. And please do not touch him. But yes, I will let you go in, for a
brief
visit.”

That was all any of them could have asked for. Standing behind the doctor as he turned to enter the medical bay, the four transfers were escorted inside.

As prepared as Scott thought he was to see Max up close, nothing could have prepared him for the reality of Max’s condition. Besides having the obvious tube in his neck, Max’s face looked outright beat up, bruised and bloodied. He looked swollen. Yellow.

More than anything, he simply looked weak.

Casting a quick glance to his comrades to see if they were as affected as he was, Scott saw that they were. None of them had been ready to see this. Max looked worse off than Centurion.

His gaze wandering briefly, Scott locked eyes with Ju`bajai, then Natalie, both of whom were looking directly at him. Both were expressionless. Natalie, at the very least, didn’t look pleased with Scott and his comrades’ horror. That had to count for something.

“Your friend?” asked a woman’s voice to Scott’s left. When he glanced that way, he saw Marina. She, too, seemed at least partially affected by Scott and his friends’ concern.

Scott nodded. “Yeah.”

“I am sorry. I am sure he will be fine.” Casting a brief look to Gavriil as if to see if the comment was permitted, a stern look by the doctor advised her that it wasn’t. Giving Scott a sad smile, she turned away to return to her other momentary duties.

His focus shifting to Gavriil, Scott asked the doctor, “How long will he be out, again?”

“A few days,” answered Gavriil. “There is no reason to wake him earlier than that—not while everything is the way it is. We will begin weening him off of sedation, but that will be gradual. I will let you know when he becomes fully aware and in his right mind.”

I wonder what his last memory is
, Scott thought. Max was liable to lose an entire week’s worth of consciousness.
This is crazy.

“All right,” Gavriil said, “it is best to move on out. He needs to rest.”

Scott stepped back into the hall behind the other three men, all of whom were rubbing the backs of their necks, unsure of what to say. The sentiment was shared and understood. The Fourteenth was so far removed from its traditional condition. But at least Max was there with them.

You’re next, Sveta.

Not entering a state of panic over Svetlana’s whereabouts was one of the hardest things Scott had ever tried to do. First, she was with Max. Then, she was going to be picked up by Dostoevsky. Ultimately, she ended up with Oleg. Until he lost her.