Book 3 ~ Shadows of Dawn
"Any word on the Brigade?" Silverton demanded the moment Cronen entered his office. The wheels of his chair creaked faintly as he rolled to the bar, already fixing his guest a drink. He may be a tough boss, but at least he's got great manners. Although the afternoon had grown dim, enough light filtered through the windows to shine off the wispy layer of white hair pasted to Leon's crown. The old man steadied shaking hands as he poured the whisky, placed the twin tumblers on a tray on his lap, and rotated his chair to roll to the centre of the room.
Josh breathed deeply, enforcing calm on his overstressed nervous system. The battle at the Citadel had opened the floodgates to his near endless supply of adrenaline. Accepting the glass, he drank briefly before setting the whisky aside and wiping his mouth.
"Something better, I hope. A pair of agents looking for the boy caught up with me at the club. One was a middle aged man, the other a young woman." Josh scratched his chin, remembering the tone of their skin, the shapes of their faces, and the familiar rapport between them. "I think they were a father-daughter team, if you can believe it." Josh snatched his tumbler and swirled the contents so swiftly they formed a whirlpool straight to the bottom of the dark glass.
The office darkened a shade as clouds gathered and daylight waned, but Silverton's face brightened by contrast, a stack of worry lines evaporating.
"Did you kill them, by any chance?" The old man mused, wheeling himself behind the desk and setting down his drink to free both hands. Like a thief scouring for coins, he searched the papers spread across the oaken surface.
"No, I managed to trick the man into a delay at the Citadel, and gleaned a little more from the daughter." Placing his palms on the corners of the desk, he leaned over and joined Silverton in scanning the documents. "They were definitely professionals, though. She probably wouldn't have let slip word about her employers, even under the knife." Josh rocked back on his heels, remembering the young lady's fervour. "She couldn't resist letting slip that she's a spy, and Akashiman-trained." Josh snapped to attention as Silverton slammed both hands down, scattering several scrolls.
"Are you sure?" The former Brigadier asked, a sudden fire melting the glaze in his old eyes. He pushed back a hand's length from the desk and pulled open a bottom drawer, thumb flitting through rows and rows of files, some yellow with age. "Can you be certain she wasn't just boasting, or throwing you a false trail?" Sighing with exasperation, Silverton heaved a stack of parchment out of the file drawer and began leafing through them carefully, muttering about his own carelessness.
Pacing to the hearth and lighting a pair of wax candles from the well-supplied box there, Josh wedged them into a brass holder and carried the flickering light back to help Silverton make out the words. As the old man licked ink-stained fingers and grumbled, Cronen reflected on each blow and counter of his battle with the woman who'd named herself a spy. Finally he nodded.
"Not only did I believe what she said, her fighting and fashion style reminded me of the best ninja I ever knew, Kyosku Tetsoma." Cronen spoke carefully, but Silverton thrived on the information. Finding the file he wanted, the former Brigadier threw back his head and all but cackled. Josh waited patiently as his friend took a celebratory swig of Yurik's, leaning over the desk once more to scan the triumphantly displayed sheaf of parchment.
"I received notification almost a month ago that some of the Villeneuves were available for hire," Silverton said, once more composed, rubbing his hands together slowly. "I wouldn't have hired them for any of this business - they're loyal only to themselves." Cramming papers back into the emptied drawer, Silverton fished a key out of his inner pocket. Leaning down to unlock the lower drawer on the opposite side of his desk made his voice echo hollowly. "But I'm not surprised the Coalition would hire them, and I may just be able to discover who supplied the gold."
Joshua's heart raced with excitement, and nearly punched through his breastbone when someone knocked on the office door.
"Master Silverton," came the secretary's voice, "my apologies for disturbing you in a meeting, but the patient is awake."
Out of Character:
Submit Thread for Judgment