CHAPTER 50 - FISHER

Fisher paced by the kitchen table, rubbing his jaw, focusing on the not-quite-right sensation of his stubble beneath his fingertips. Like he’d be able to pluck a solution to his current crisis—his current avalanche—from among the bristles. Jack was gone, and no one had any idea where.

Apparently, he’d done it while they’d been asleep. Sam had questioned how he’d gotten past the robot, and Revenant had claimed that she’d been running diagnostics as a result of their visit to a class-one restricted area and that'd compromised her capabilities for twenty-three minutes. So, that’d left Jack with a twenty-three-minute window where he could just... walk away.

And he had.

Maybe it was their fault. They hadn’t kept him under house arrest, they hadn’t policed his actions, they hadn’t explicitly told him to remain. Maybe they should’ve. Maybe they should've done it the first time he'd tried it. Maybe they should’ve handcuffed him to Sabra’s power armor or put Revenant on watchdog duty. Anything to prevent their one lead to Monkey just wandering into the night.

It was going to be a problem. It was going to be the sort of problem that derailed the plans of mice and men, well-laid or not. So Fisher paced. At this rate, he was going to wear a groove into the floorboards. Outside, there was the jet-engine sound of Revenant descending.

She stepped through the doorway, stood at-ease, and said, “I wasn’t able to locate any sign of Jack Harper.”

“Then keep flying,” Fisher said.

“The longer I’m in the air, the more likely I am to attract the attention of Star Patrol. More to the point, my long-range detection capabilities are limited due to interference from the field.”

“Goddamnit.”

“It’s not her fault,” Sabra said. Revenant glanced at her, but said nothing.

“I know,” Fisher said. But it’s someone’s fault. He stopped pacing and turned his attention to the group. “Okay, we need to think about this. When was the last time any of us saw Jack?”

“Last night,” Sabra said. “I’d just finished heating up dinner.”

“Did anyone see him this morning? Did anyone talk to him?”

Sam looked up from where she was cleaning her variety of firearms. “We talked about this earlier, Pavel—no, no one saw him this morning.”

“I don’t think I need to mention this, Sam, but I’m going to do it anyway—Jack has walked away with his gear, and his guns, and the knowledge of everything we’ve done here and plan to do. God, I could strangle the son of the bitch.”

“Get to the back of the line, husband.”

Fisher rounded on her. “And I’m supposed to believe he didn’t tell you a thing about this?”

“Think it’s pretty obvious that he didn’t. I mean, yeah, the kid was moping about it—but that’s what he does. I told him he was being an idiot.” She held some small piece of her rifle up to the light, inspecting it. “But what’s the harm in it, Pavel?”

Fisher frowned. “Extreme.”

“What, you’re worried he’s gonna sell us out? He’s got nowhere to go and no one to turn to.”

“Except Monkey.”

“Sure, and how well did that work out for him the last time?” She went back to working on her gun, tapping something against the tabletop. “Here’s the thing, Pavel, the kid’s a puppy—a stupid, slobbery rottweiler. Right now, he just wants his master to tell him he’s a good boy.”

“And leave you behind?”

Sam looked at him now, a toothy grin splitting her face. “Wait, hang on—you think we were fucking or something? Oh, now, this is good! It’s a good thing you’re gay, Pavel, because you sure as hell don’t know how to read women. The only thing that kid fucks is himself.”

“Gross,” Sabra said.

Sam rolled her eyes. “Ease up with the judgment there, tall, dark and sapphic.”

“Sam,” Fisher said. “Be serious.”

“I am. Look, think of it this way—there’s nothing else the kid wants. Money? You don’t live like we did for money. Sex? I’m not sure he knows what it is. He could've killed us in his sleep, he didn't. He didn't even disable our vehicle. Whatever he’s doing, we’re not in danger.”

“Yet,” Fisher said. “More to the point, we don’t know where he is, or what that links us to. For all we know, he’s off to kill the President of Australia and he’s going to tell people we were in on it, too.”

“That’s unlikely,” Sabra said. “I mean, Australia doesn’t have a president.”

“Don’t get smart, Sabra,” Fisher said, and thought of something. “Actually, tell me something—why’d you even give him that letter in the first place?”

She shrugged. “Promethea gave it to me to give to him.”

What the fuck, Sabra? Disbelief was not a strong enough word for what Fisher was feeling. For a moment, he could only stare, his mouth hanging open. “Promethea gave you that letter?” he said. “And you didn’t think to mention this earlier?”

“Well, it wasn’t addressed to you, was it?”

“No, but if it came from Promethea— Christ above, how do we even know it’s from Monkey? For all we know, she’s written something that’s turned his brain inside out!”

“Turning his brain inside out might actually be an improvement,” Sam said. “Y’know, turn it the right way in or whatever.”

“Pavel is right, Sabra,” Revenant said. “It was irresponsible.”

Fisher nodded. “Thank you, Revenant.”

“Oh, come on,” Sabra said. “Christ and Allah! Neither of you stopped me, did you?”

“Let’s make this clear, Sabra, because otherwise I swear to God you’re going to make me have a stroke. Not only did you hand a letter that’d been in the hands of an extremely powerful cape to Jack, but it was a letter written by the guy we’re chasing.”

“Probably.”

“And you really didn’t think that we should all know what was on it?”

“Not really,” she said. “It wasn’t for you or me or anyone else. It was for him. So get off my fucking case about it already. It wasn’t like you stopped him from reading it either.” She pushed herself to her feet, shoving the table back a few inches. “I’m going for a run, I’m done with this.”

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

She was halfway to the exit when Fisher felt himself speak.

“Don’t you turn your back on me, don’t you dare turn your back on me!”

Sabra turned about, slowly, precisely. She had heard the anger in his voice, the challenge, the taunt, and she’d just stepped into the ring to answer.

“Have you got something you want to say, Pavel?”

“Do you know what your problem is, Sabra?”

“You gonna tell me?”

“Yeah,” Fisher said. “The problem is, you’ve never seen a competition you didn't like. You can’t not compete. And when you compete, you can’t not dominate. It’s not even about winning for you,” Fisher said, feeling his frustration building. “It’s about everyone seeing that you win!”

Revenant’s gunmetal eyes were focused on both of them. Sam had stopped cleaning her rifle and gone utterly still. Sabra took a deep breath in through her nose, and Fisher knew she was winding up for one hell of a punch.

He pressed on anyway.

“But that’s not all, is it? Nooo, because you’re right and the world is wrong, and if it isn’t, then you’ll throw punches and sulk to avoid facing the fact that you don’t think. People like you are the reason we’re in this mess! Giving you any kind of power would be a gross irresponsibility, and I can’t believe I ever thought it might be a good idea!”

Sabra’s nostrils flared.

“Are you done?” she asked.

He stepped up close to her, got into her personal space, ignored the fact he had to look up to meet her eye to eye. “What are you going to do, Sabra—hit me? Wax philosophical?”

“I don’t need to do anything, Pavel,” she said, voice low. “You’re a sad old man. You thought you could live through me, didn’t you? Use me against your old nemesis.” She took a step forward and Fisher, despite his anger, stepped back. “And I bet you thought I didn't see it.”

Another step, another few feet given up. “I took pity on you. When I first saw you, I knew for a fact you were the saddest old man I’d ever seen. I was only interested in bringing in Leopard—Taurine was a nice bonus, and maybe I would’ve taken a shot at her at some point, yeah, but I almost died fighting her because I took pity on you.”

Fisher felt his hands clench, heard the mechanisms click.

“You’re a sad old man, Pavel, and you can’t handle that for all the years you put in you accomplished nothing. Whatever grudge you had got your partner killed, and almost me, and Allah knows however many else, because you had to be the one to finish it. Well, guess what—you had your chance to save the world, Pavel, and people like you are the reason people like me exist. Because you had your big shot, and you fucking blew it.”

He punched her in the face.

Just as he realized what he’d done, something exploded against his jaw, and he was on the ground. His mind scrambled to find the reason through the shock—she had hauled back and struck him the moment he had hit her. Fisher blinked against the lights in the ceiling and the stars in his eyes, and pushed himself to standing.

And there was Revenant, standing in between them.

“That’s enough! Both of you!” She had one of her arm-cannons pointed at Sabra, and the other trained on him. Golden light kindled within a spinning mechanism inside the barrel, humming with low menace. Fisher raised his hands, palms open.

“Okay,” he said. “Okay.”

“So,” Sam said, “You both done?”

Sabra clutched at her nose, bright red blood against her dark skin, her expression furious and terrible as she caught his gaze.

“You broke my fucking nose.”

“Sabra,” Fisher said, “I’m sorry.”

“Fuck this and fuck you.”

The fire was still there, but the fight had faded. Revenant stepped back, arms reassembling themselves, panels snapping together. “Samantha,” she said, “First aid, please.”

“You’ve got it, girlbot.”

“No, don’t,” Sabra said. “Just don’t. This was a mistake, this was all a mistake. You know what, Pavel, you can take care of this on your own. I shouldn’t even be here. I’m gonna take that walk.”

Everything was falling apart, and it was all because he couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

“No,” Revenant said, and she had Sabra by the collar of her shirt. “What you’re going to do, is sit here and let Samantha clean your face up. I’m going to go out and run another recon flight. By the time I get back, I expect that the two of you will have put this behind you.”

Sabra spat blood into the sink, took an ice pack from Sam and held it against her nose. “Okay,” she said, and Revenant released her.

Sam’s phone chimed. “You good?” she asked Sabra, who nodded, and then fetched her phone out of her pocket. “Well, fuck me, kid, don’t you just have the world’s best sense of timing. We’re just about killing each other over here. Pretty much the most pathetic thing I've ever seen—how’s things with you?”

“Is that—” Fisher began but Sam didn’t appear to hear him, and the question was a pointless one anyway.

“Whoa, easy,” Sam said. “What’s gotten into you? Shut up for a second, I’m putting you on speaker.” She set the phone down. “Okay, go.”

“Keep him talking,” Revenant said, tapping two fingers against her temple, then pointing to the phone. Tracing the call.

“Jack,” Fisher said, “What’s going on? Where are you?”

“Impel,” Jack replied. He sounded almost relieved. “Fisher... Pavel. I don’t have much time. If I’m out here too long, they’re going to get suspicious.”

“Who is? Jack, what’s going on? Are you in danger?”

“I think we’re all in danger. Please, just shut up and listen. I’m at an abandoned mine about an hour south-east of the hideout. Monkey’s here and he’s ready for war.”

Fisher glanced to Revenant. She nodded to him. “I’m sorry?”

“Monkey is here—what aren’t you getting about this? He’s got about twenty people with him, and they’re armed to the teeth. I need you to get Defiant and Revenant and drop a hammer on this place right now.”

Two on twenty? That wasn’t good odds. Hell, four on twenty wasn’t good odds. Not when Sam was a member of the walking wounded still, and he himself had no power and no firearms experience.

“Jack,” Fisher said, “Hold on. If he’s as well-prepared as you claim, then we’ll need backup. We’ll contact law enforcement and bring some real firepower. Can you keep Monkey there?”

Jack groaned.

“Did I say bring backup, Pavel? No, I said, drop the fucking hammer. Monkey’s got Gate with him as his personal bolt-out tunnel. If we lose Monkey this time, we might never find him again. If we push too hard, he'll run for it!”

“Who’s Gate?” Sabra asked, at the same time Fisher thought How is that possible?

He said, “We won’t do anyone any good if we get ourselves shot.”

“Look!” Jack snapped. “Monkey’s up to something, something big. Something he says will send a message and make the IESA sit up and take notice. Gate’s been getting him supplies and people from everywhere—we have to move, and we have to move now!”

“A fusion bomb,” Sabra said, eyes wide. “Christ and Allah, it all makes sense.”

“Could be,” Jack said. “We can’t afford to wait or a lot of people are going to die. There’s this machinery shop on the east side of the complex. That’s where Monkey is. That’s the place you need to hit.”

“This is a hell of a risk, Jack.”

“I know. But I’ve seen Defiant and Revenant in action and you’ll have the element of surprise. I’ll be waiting, too. I’ll be ready to take Monkey out the moment the cavalry arrives.”

Fisher looked up from the phone, seeking input from the others, but the three ladies were already gone. In the garage, he could hear the distinct sounds of Sabra readying her powered suit.

“Okay,” Fisher said.

“Okay?”

“The others are suiting up,” Fisher continued. “Expect us in one hour.”

“Got it. I’ll be ready.”

“One more thing, Jack.”

“Yeah?”

“There’s a queue of people here waiting to strangle you,” Fisher said. “If you’re working an angle here, if you’re trying to be smart...”

“I know why we’re here, Pavel. Stopping Monkey is the only thing that matters. You won’t regret it.”

A flash of memory—the last time someone had said those words. He wasn’t sure which way he had settled on that particular thought yet.

“We’ll see, Jack, because I feel like I already do.”