CHAPTER 32 - FISHER

“You’re telling me she went right out the window?” Miss Millennium laughed, and laughed hard. A genuine laugh, not the death rattle that he’d heard last time. Fisher could tell that the sudden jovial paroxysm hurt, knew that it’d only hasten her ossified tomb, as each sucking breath fused more bone around and through her rib cage. But some part of him marveled at her ability to do so regardless.

Sitting at her bedside, he just smiled. “Just like that,” he said. “The kid gave her one good kick and, bam, there she went.”

Warm sunlight streamed through the window, illuminating the harsh growths on Millennium’s cheeks and jaw. But it didn’t dull her smile, as slight and rigid as it was. Fisher could see her picturing the literal downfall of their old nemesis.

“Wish I could’ve seen it,” she said.

“There’s always next time.”

“You’ll have to bring the fight to me, then,” Millennium replied. “Getting out of this bed... it’s not as easy as it used to be.”

She had managed to sit up, though, which was something. Millennium ran her hand along Octopus’ sleek coat. Her hand, her whole arm—the limb was rigid from the elbow down, like one of those ancient prosthetics. Fisher tried not to stare, failed. How long would it be until she couldn’t move at all?

Octopus didn’t mind, though. His purr practically reverberated throughout the entire room.

“That’s not true, Katherine,” Fisher replied. “Come on, you’re going to let a little bed stop you?”

She snorted. “It’s not the bed, it’s the bone fusion. And when did you get so optimistic, anyway?”

“About the time I saw Taurine go out the window. But I don’t think it’s optimism,” he added. “More the thrill of the hunt.”

“What hunt? The big bad bull is in custody.”

“It’s more than that.”

“Going to let me in on it?”

“It’s a long story.”

“Somehow, Pavel, I think I’ve got the time to hear it.”

And somehow, he knew that the conversation wouldn’t lead anywhere good. It’d been a week since the assault on the Citadel, and he’d spent it trying to chase down leads and hunches and all of them had given him the same result: absolutely nothing. Unsurprisingly, SOLAR hadn’t been able, or willing, to discuss things with him. But the fact that their team leader, infamous Aegis herself, had backed him up meant there was something there. Something that he had seen before anyone else.

Something that didn’t quite add up. Not yet.

“I’m still figuring it all out,” he said, “but it goes back to what we talked about last time—that there’s something going on here, and Taurine’s involved. Thing is, I don’t think she’s orchestrating it.”

“One of your mysteries again,” Katherine replied.

“Yeah, but not just mine—Aegis agrees with me.”

“Aegis?” Katherine asked, surprised. “They haven’t put that old warhorse out to pasture just yet?”

“Doesn’t seem like it, no. She thinks there’s a puppet master involved, and this was some kind of plan.” Not the absolute truth, but close enough. “I’m going to find out who, and I’m going to get to the bottom of it.”

Miss Millennium stared at something on the far side of the room, fingers turning circles in Octopus’ fur. “Do you ever think about her,” she said. “Alexandra, I mean.”

It took Fisher a moment. “Taurine? No.”

“There’s a part of me that’d like to force my way out of this bed and go see her, before they drag her away to somewhere she’ll never see sunlight again.”

“Don’t act like that’s too good for her.”

“I’m not. But there’s not much for me to do in this bed but think. Shit, Pavel. Eventually I won’t be able to move, I won’t be able to breathe. Will that even kill me, or will I be trapped inside my own head? I don’t know. The doctors sure as hell don’t know. Do you, Pavel?”

She shut her eyes, composed herself. Fisher waited.

“If I could,” she said, at last, “I’d reconcile with her.”

The anger hit him like the burning hand of God. “You’d what?”

“I’d sit down and I’d talk with her and I’d listen to her and I think we’d find we had a lot in common,” she continued, like it made any sense at all. “She’s come a long way since that first night we threw down. What was she doing—stealing meds from someone’s home?”

That’d been it. She’d been breaking into houses for painkillers. At the time, he’d been young enough that he hadn’t cared about her reasons. And now, the thought of sympathy made his jaw clench and his wrists ache. Miss Millennium never had anything to fear from Taurine.

“The Collapse fucked up a lot of people,” Fisher said, “but only some of them turned into murderers.”

“Pain begets pain,” Millennium replied. “You, me, her, Mark—we’re all tied together, even now. Everyone else is gone, Pavel. I’m flattered that you’ve come to see me, that you’re trying to make up for lost time—but we parted ways so many years ago.”

She was really enunciating as best she could, making sure she could hear him. Every single syllable was driving another nail down into her coffin.

“But—”

“I don’t want to walk you to your own funeral. I don’t want to watch you trade one obsession for another. I’m not saying that Taurine is a good person, I’m not saying you have to forgive her. But there are so few of us left now, and I’m not interested in spending my days nursing grudges.”

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

“It’s not a grudge.”

“Then I hope you can tell me what it is the next time I see you, Pavel,” Millennium said. “Come and get your cat.”

He did. His eyes stung, and he sucked the tears back. He was too old, too tired, too late to cry. Katherine was right—she was the last link to his past, and it was a chain that he hadn’t ever quite been able—or willing—to cut.

Well, he was now. With his knowledge, Sabra had put Taurine down. Yet he’d still been clinging to some hope that Katherine could work some miracle. But he had resources—he had Fiveaces, one of the premiere private security companies in Geneva, and Asadi. He’d sent him to find out what was going on with the Adriatic, and he had. They’d listen to him. They had to.

“Just think about it, Pavel,” Katherine said. “You may never get the chance to talk to her again.”

“What, you think she’ll just tell me where Mark is?”

“There’s more of a chance of that than if you don’t. Listen, if there’s one bit of advice that ever makes it through that thick skull of yours, let it be this one: just because someone throws the first punch, doesn’t mean you need to throw the second.”

“I know that.”

“You know it,” Katherine replied with a note of sadness, “but you don’t believe it.”

----------------------------------------

Over the past week, a dozen different parties had descended upon Asclepion in the wake of the news getting out about the Citadel assault. Hexagon Corporation, Hazard Team, Spartan Company—the range of parties who knew there was money in the air (or blood in the water) ran the gamut from corporate empowered teams to vigilante groups, but no one Fisher knew beyond reputation.

Fiveaces had sent only Iskandar Asadi. It wasn’t a surprise—Fiveaces wasn’t in the business of getting their hands dirty, as it were. Controlling the game with the ace up our sleeve was the corporate motto. Information, intelligence, analytics—that was what Fiveaces dealt with. It was why Asadi would listen to him.

The executive suite in the Kalos Hotel was the kind of opulence that put things into perspective. How a company like Fiveaces Security could afford to give him an all-expenses paid make-work job on the other side of the world. It was as obvious as an abscess in his jaw.

“And not only is she alive,” Fisher said, turning from the window, “but she’s here—here! Do you know how many times Taurine has been outside the Americas, Iskandar? Once. Here. The last, best hope that the world forgot. Isn't that the least bit curious to you?”

On the other side of the suite, behind the kitchen island, Asadi stirred his drink and nodded, pretending to pay attention. What he didn’t get was that this make-work job had allowed him to glimpse the edges of something big. Something he was still trying to make Asadi see—if he even wanted to.

“The situation has certainly gotten more hectic here than it was a week or so ago. To think, we thought you’d have something of a working vacation,” Asadi said, and finished stirring. “Are you sure you don’t want a drink?”

Some part of Fisher’s mind craved it, but it was nothing but a shadow on the wall. The allure of the mystery, of some final revelation, washed it all away. Maybe Katherine was right, and maybe there was nothing wrong with a healthy addiction.

“Not today,” Fisher said. “Look, I know this sounds crazy, but something is happening here, Iskandar. It’s something big. Big enough to get Taurine back in the game. Big enough to arm those Animal guys with high-end equipment. Big enough that they hit the Citadel.”

Asadi chuckled and sat down on the couch.

“And how does that relate to the business with the Adriatic, Pavel?”

“Forget the Adriatic.”

“I can’t, it’s why you’re here, after all. Are we able to close all that off?”

“They raided a ship, shot an old man—and then stuck around to attack the Citadel. It doesn’t make sense. None of it makes sense.”

“Pavel,” Asadi said. His tone was gentle. “I’ll admit, it’s nice to see that you’re feeling energized, but this wasn’t something you were supposed to take so seriously. You know it, I know it.”

“That doesn’t change anything.”

“But other things do. There’s a full SOLAR team on this island now, which means everything goes through them. Which means we can’t risk someone poking the IESA in the eye.”

Fisher crossed his arms. “What’re you saying?”

Asadi was silent for a moment. “It’s the opinion of the executive that you should return to Geneva.”

The thought didn’t make sense. To return to Geneva now, when he was on the cusp of something so close? “Iskandar, I can’t.”

“It’s that or we end our association with you,” Asadi said.

“Did the Australians submit a complaint?”

“They did. But it’s not about that—they don’t matter. We can’t have you getting in SOLAR’s way. Last thing we need is IESA downgrading our security clearance. Downgrades the bottom line.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” Fisher replied. “What if I promised to do everything properly, be real tactful?”

Asadi sipped from his drink, set it down, and sighed.

“Don’t make me be the bad guy here, Pavel. Come on, keep hold of this energy, and we’ll take it back to Geneva where you can start helping people. Really seize on this chance to start afresh.”

Fisher turned back to the window and looked out over the city and to the ocean beyond. Let Asadi think he was thinking it over, weighing it up, considering all of his options. Let his mind wander down half-formed paths.

“Iskandar, quick question—you ever heard of a hero who goes by the name of Revenant?”

“No,” he replied, “why?”

Well, there went that thought. Whatever possibility that she’d been an Asclepion native had vanished when Aegis had called her SUNDOWNER. But she wasn’t a member of SOLAR, either. She’d been called ‘an asset.’ A member of one of the IESA Taskforces, then?

“Pavel?”

Same group, different department—that was what she had said. So, had the IESA been keeping tabs on the island? After all, it was awfully convenient for their elite to arrive when they did, mere hours before Taurine had kicked in the door. And when you had a system as powerful as they did underneath Geneva, then coincidences were rare indeed. And, somehow, that seemed like more proof that he was on to something.

Maybe Asadi was right. Maybe he was on some manic spell. High off the slightest hint of dopamine because it’d been years since the last hit.

“Sorry,” Fisher said. “Was just following a stray thought.”

“Lead you anywhere good?”

“Don’t think so.”

Asadi nodded, finished his drink, and set the glass down again. “I’m heading back to Geneva tomorrow, Pavel.”

If he stayed in Asclepion, he’d lose his only source of income. He had savings, but not enough to live on for longer than a month or two. More if he stretched it. If he went back, he could continue to enjoy the benefits of pity. Asadi would keep throwing the old dog some bones with a little smile, but he certainly wouldn’t listen to him. The age of heroes was dead. Fisher was just taking longer than most to catch up with his brethren.

But if he stayed...

His phone chimed. Fisher fished it out of his pocket and answered it.

“Mister Fisher,” a woman said, “you wished to be notified when Miss Kasembe woke up.”

“Thank you,” Fisher replied. “I’ll be right there.”

“Pavel, this discussion isn’t over.”

“Actually,” he said, scooping up his jacket, “it is.”

“Be serious for a second.”

“But I am,” Fisher said, feeling his lips quirk in a lopsided grin—a grin! How long had it been since he’d had even the memory of a smile?

“I’m more serious now than I’ve ever been over the past decade, Iskandar. Go ahead, fly out of here tomorrow. Oh, and don’t worry about terminating me, I’ll make it easy for you—I quit.”