Guardians of the Gates - Part 3, The Osiris Gate by Jeff Schanz (best book club books for discussion .TXT) 📖

so we paid him a visit and got him on board. Or at least we thought so. He’s a shifty sum-bitch. I have no idea if he changed any of his plans knowing we were there, but I took it upon myself to just camp out on the rooftop and wait to see what happened. I saw some of what was happening in Ashe’s office, but I would’ve probably blown the whole thing if I had taken any shots through the glass. I was hoping you’d make it back onto the roof, and you did. I figured you’d have a backup plan to get off that rooftop if you didn’t have a parachute. But you didn’t, and I saw those things closing in on you, so I sent a few shots their way to give you some time.”

Harris paused, chuckling to himself. He stared at his cigar like there was something written on it that he needed to memorize. He abruptly turned to Sebastian and said, “An umbrella. Holy shit, son, that’s got to be the craziest goddamned stunt I’ve ever seen.”

Sebastian rolled his eyes. “You would’ve had a better plan?”

Still chuckling, Harris said, “I wouldn’t have lost my damned parachute in the first place.”

“Ashe’s thugs took it,” said Sebastian defensively.

“Uh huh,” said Harris. He placed the cigar back in his mouth. “Well, you’re lucky we had men on the river waiting for your parachute drop. You were unconscious when they fished you out of the river. We got you to the hospital on the east side. It’s the only place we could get some operatives to stall things. Your pal Nigel followed us there and used some of his…” Harris paused, searching for appropriate words. “…Associates to help delay the paperwork and procedures, and get supplies. We held folks at bay until we could get some meds and get you out of there. Your friend, Miss Stewart, appeared at a very opportune time and gave us a better option where we could stash you.”

“Yeah, I was there for that part.”

Harris shrugged and puffed his cigar. “Well, while you were convalescing,” Harris drew out the word and gave Sebastian an accusatorial stare, “we got word back from your associates in L.A. that they had procured some samples of the drugs that were being used at the ranch. Since the ranch blew up, there wasn’t any other way to get the information.”

“I know. I was there for that conversation too. And I didn’t blow up the ranch.”

“Yeah, we figured. Probably Turibius. Hiding the trail to Severinus and Ashe. We were following both of you, but the little turd managed to get out of our sight for a while. He’s a slippery little bastard.”

Harris’ admission cleared up a few things for Sebastian. Sebastian knew someone had been following them since they got to Tierra Perdida, but he had no idea who it had been. Apparently, it was a combination of bad guy and good guy. Or maybe bad guy and possible good guy. Sebastian was still having his doubts about Harris, though the man’s thoughts and intentions seemed to be sincere now. Sebastian was tired of being jerked around by his so-called friends. Despite everything starting to make sense, these revelations from Harris should be taken cautiously. He said nothing and allowed Harris to continue.

“Anyway, the drug samples had an initial evaluation, and just got back from detailed evaluation, so we’ll get that briefing after we land.” Harris stopped and gave Sebastian an open invitation look. Sebastian wasn’t sure he was interpreting it right, but again Harris wasn’t hiding his thoughts any longer, and he seemed sincere.

“Sure, ok,” said Sebastian, hoping that was the interaction Harris was expecting.

Harris seemed satisfied. He nodded and blew out another puff of cigar smoke. “I already told you about what we understood from the documents you photographed, and about the situation with your brother.”

Sebastian wondered how Harris found out that Marcellus was a ghost. Probably Benedict. Sebastian had never told Harris he even had a brother, much less a spirit one, yet when Harris briefed Sebastian at Jillian’s kitchen table about Marcellus being captured, he acted as if the knowledge of Marcellus being a ghost was a simple fact. And like most everything else, Harris offered no further insight into how he obtained his knowledge.

Harris said, “I’m sorry about your brother. We didn’t anticipate anything like that. And it complicates what we’re dealing with. We’ll discuss that in detail also after we land.”

Sebastian nodded, not wanting to invite the usual scornful stares from Harris for interrupting.

Harris drew in a large, smokeless breath, and stared off blankly for a moment. Then he seemed to either remember something, or it was suddenly time to talk again.

“We found out Severinus was in London just before I came to get you. I knew what he was coming for – namely to make sure you didn’t give anyone else the slip – and Benedict and I thought we’d play the double agents, and see if we couldn’t catch him with his pants down, and get him on record.” He held up a small rectangular device that had an LCD display in time code. “Audio recorder. It’s amazing that no one thinks that folks might be recording them, and they just say whatever the hell is on their minds.” He replaced the device into his pocket. “And as you saw, Severinus brought along another of his freaky, mind-power cronies. God knows where he digs these assholes up.”

Sebastian agreed with Harris on that subject. It also bothered Sebastian on a greater scale. As he assembled the scattered pieces of this puzzle, some things seemed to stick out. One of those things was the fact that there were more human anomalies in this world than just himself and Marcellus. There were probably common factors that could be figured out about them, and he would love to just sit and ponder the answers to that question alone, but he needed to keep his focus on the situation at hand, so he pushed his puzzle-building interest aside and tuned back in to Harris.

Harris continued. “We weren’t sure what this Lucian guy was capable of. Benedict had heard rumors and we decided to play it safe so he couldn’t guess what we were thinking. Of course, that meant deceiving you for a little while.” Harris turned to Sebastian again with the patronizing stare. “And we couldn’t be sure how you’d react, or if you’d do something we’d have to control. But…” He glanced over toward a crate of stacked boxes that were wrapped with overlapping sheets of plastic. It was the same general direction the soldiers had carried Severinus and Lucian, tied up somewhere behind that obstruction. Still quiet for the moment. “…We had to risk it. And, you incapacitated the assassin without too much incident, so all’s well.”

“How’d you know he was an assassin?” asked Sebastian.

Harris chuckled. “Didn’t you?”

“Yeah, but I had the benefit of getting some vibes from his mind.”

Harris chuckled again, a little softer this time. “Son, anyone who’s seen the shit I have knows an assassin when he sees one. And this clown was as obvious as it gets.”

Sebastian felt a twinge of embarrassment seeing Harris’ point, and agreed.

“I could stand to count on my special skills a little less sometimes,” said Sebastian. “Admonishment noted.”

“Kid, I ain’t admonishing you. But you would do well to listen and learn when someone with my experience talks.”

“Understood, pops.”

Harris bit down on his cigar and shot Sebastian a dangerous look.

Sebastian sighed. “You keep calling me son and kid, so I… It’ll help if you grow a sense of humor, Sergeant Major.”

Sergeant Major Harris glowered at Sebastian for a pregnant moment before he spoke again. “I have a goddamned outstanding sense of humor.”

“Sir, yes sir,” was on Sebastian’s tongue, barely managing to catch himself from saying it.

Sebastian examined the laces on his boots for a second before Harris dialed back his glare. Harris decided to finish his story.

“Well, you heard what the old sum-bitch said, and some of it we suspected, and some of it was news. Either way, we have good intel for Benedict. The Saints are making base camp somewhere near the Grand Canyon, so that’s where we’re really headed. We’re only refueling in New York. The stuff about gathering the field agents there was bullcrap just for Severinus. Everyone’s already headed to Arizona, and we are too.” He paused for dramatic effect and removed his cigar. He revisited the patronizing stare once more. “That is if that’s ok with you? Or are you still planning to have a shootout?”

Sebastian hadn’t noticed that his right hand was resting on the butt of the pistol tucked into his waistband. He removed his hand quickly, chagrined, then sat down next to Harris.

He was deciding how to apologize to Harris, but his ego was boiling to the surface, and his apology turned into a retort.

“Look, Sergeant Major, I appreciate everything you and Benedict have done, and at least you finally told me what’s been going on. But I do not appreciate being someone’s pawn, and being pushed around on your little chessboard. If you need my help with something, you ask. Don’t ever pull that shit with me again.”

Harris smiled, still that paternal “kid, you have so much to learn” smile. “Son, I’ve been in the military most of my life, and we’re all pieces on someone’s chessboard. Get used to it, nut up, and get over it.”

“I’m not in the military. And you just got finished telling me how we needed to turn the tables on the guy that’s been pushing us, the pieces, in the wrong directions. So, clearly, neither you nor Benedict is over that. You can’t have it both ways. You either do what you know is right, or you do what you’re told. You’re saying one thing and doing another.”

Harris narrowed his eyes. Sebastian could hear the man’s reply in his head, weighing whether he wanted to get into with Sebastian. He knew he did not, for the sake of diplomacy, but needed to set the kid straight on respect for his elders.

Sebastian shook his head. “You don’t have to set me straight. I don’t care if you disagree with me, or if you like me or not. Just let me do my job, and you do yours, and we can all work together and stop Ashe from doing whatever the hell he’s doing. And for the record, I actually like you Sergeant Major. People can count on you, and I value that. But I don’t stand for anyone treating me like their Guinea pig. I’m in this for the end result, and I could care less if I end up in the dog house or the White House when we’re done. I will stop Ashe, with or without help, with help preferably, and if anyone has other agendas, that’s their business. Just keep me out of it. I wouldn’t want to tangle with you Sergeant Major. Likewise, I advise nobody to screw with me.”

Sebastian meant what he said, though he was regretting just throwing it down on the table like he was playing gin rummy. For all his steely posturing and iron will, Harris had a sensitivity to being personally challenged, as did Sebastian. He knew his own ego would want to fire back at that kind of diatribe. But Harris was either biding his time to reply, or soaking in what Sebastian said. He puffed his cigar once, his gaze somewhere far off, contemplative. The thought waves Sebastian was receiving were more of a debate than an argument. At length, Harris turned his body toward Sebastian and grew a smile slowly underneath his teeth-clenched cigar.

“Son,” he said, and drew out a long pause after the word. “You’re more of a soldier than half the soldiers I’ve known. That’s a good thing. I like you.” He reached out and slapped a frying-pan-like palm against Sebastian’s back. The impact was enough to send a