Convergence - The Last Science #2.2 - Heroes and Villains

Interlude IX - Magnanimity of the Modern Man - I

  "What the fuck just happened?" he shouted over the pulsing helicopter blades. The city rushed past underneath, a blur of light cutting through the darkness.

  "Unexpected resistance, sir."

  "Unexpected—" Viper cut off as the helicopter made a hard turn, tilting nearly halfway over as it swung north. "...It was two goddamn college kids in a hotel room! What kind of unexpected fucking resistance was there?"

  "The girl caught us off guard. Couldn't attempt the original exfil safely. Had to take a detour."

  "I noticed," he snapped. "You blew up a neighborhood. Civilians, asshole."

  "Collateral damage."

  Viper glanced over his shoulder, leaning out of the co-pilot seat to look at his men in the rear compartment—ten in all, out of the fourteen he'd originally arrived in the country with. Three dead, while Rook was long gone doing God-knew-what. They all had basic medical training, and were busy patching each other up from the scrapes and cuts caused by one of the collapsing buildings. Another had taken a hunting rifle bullet straight through the shoulder.

  "Syke, Piller and Mauer?" he asked, just to be absolutely sure.

  "Dead."

  "Everyone else clear?"

  "Yes, sir. Stukov took one in the shoulder but it's clean. Entry and exit. Minor casualties otherwise. No disabled."

  He took a headcount. "Son of a bitch," Viper growled. "You didn't even get Walker?"

  "No."

  "Turn us back around," he said, turning back to the pilot. "We ain't done—"

  "Sir, we got something."

  "Got what?"

  His second in command—technically his third, but his second had just gotten pulverized by a golem out on the pavement, so a field promotion was in order—dug into his side pack and pulled out a tiny crumpled piece of paper. Not even a plain piece of paper as he expected, but ragged, ancient parchment, covered in writing he couldn't make out in the dark helicopter interior.

  "Is that—"

  "It's legitimate," the man added proudly. "Checked it myself. I saw her."

  Viper smiled, while relief washed over him like the howling wind blasting through the chopper doors. He settled back into the co-pilot seat, and actually started to enjoy the ride for once. "Guess this wasn't a waste after all." He rubbed at his arm, finally freed of the sling after so long. It still felt strange, being able to use it again, but it was a gift he wasn't about to resent any time soon.

  "Take us home."

  It was a long, disjointed ride back to London. They landed over the border in B.C. at a private airstrip, where they boarded a cargo plane that was waiting on the tarmac. It flew them straight across the Canadian wilderness, staying well out of sight of towns and low enough to avoid tripping any flags, which meant they had to go a bit slower. Most of Viper's men stayed behind in Quebec, while Viper and Napowsky—his new second-in-command—boarded a smaller, lightning-fast private jet belonging to their benefactor.

  Viper took the opportunity to sleep. It was a life lesson he'd taken to heart while serving with Rook: every opportunity he got for some downtime, he took it. Never could be too sure when the next one was coming around, and after so many long, exhausting days out in the deserts and the jungles, he'd learned to sleep pretty much anywhere, anytime.