Epic: Book 02 - Outlaw Trigger Read online

  Torokin sighed and rose from his chair. “Then it is only the two of us, I suppose.”

  “Yes. So it seems.”

  “Is there anyone here that you still want to talk to?”

  Grinkov shook his head. “We can leave whenever you want.”

  “Let’s go, then. I’ve had enough for one night.”

  “Me too.”

  No one bid farewell to Torokin and Grinkov as they trekked out of the banquet hall and into the corridors of EDEN Command. But that suited them just fine.

  There was no one to whom they wanted to say goodbye, anyway.

  4

  Monday, August 1, 0011 NE

  1720 hours

  Novosibirsk, Russia

  Scott growled as a left hook smacked against the tip of his chin. His mouthpiece shook loose from his teeth. He stepped back and resituated it. “Lucky shot,” he mumbled through the rubber.

  “Like hell, tha’ was lucky!” Becan said, removing his own mouthpiece and holding it. “Tha’s called a good stick!”

  “Then how come that’s the first one you’ve landed?”

  ”’Cos I’m bein’ polite.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  Sparring together had become Scott and Becan’s new custom. On sporadic days, they would find time to escape to the gymnasium together, where they would exercise in one-on-one bouts. They made sure never to stick to a set schedule. They already had their fair share of those.

  Becan slipped his mouthpiece back into place. “All righ’ then, dope. Millie up!”

  Scott adjusted his headgear and bounced.

  Then Becan struck. The move was a stutter-stepped hook, similar to the one he’d just landed. But the Irishman never struck the same way twice in a row. There’d be something different. And there was. The moment Scott moved to block the attack, Becan skidded and twirled back around. He sent a spinning hook kick to Scott’s face.

  But Scott was ready.

  He leaned back and tap-blocked Becan’s foot. He knew better than to actually grab it—that was a lesson he’d learned the hard way more than once. The Irishman had the nasty ability to turn anything into pivot point for follow-up attack. But not this time. As soon as Becan’s momentum was jarred to a stop, Scott slid to the ground and swept the Irishman’s feet. Becan toppled flat on his back.

  “Veck!”

  Scott waited for Becan to stand. “You all right? That was a pretty nasty fall you took there.” Scott grinned as the Irishman scowled.

  There was only one rule that Scott and Becan abided by while they fought. Everything required some form of smack-talk. It was a mixture of lighthearted taunting and genuine competitiveness, but it was never taken to heart.

  “Nasty fall this,” Becan said. He dashed forward with a fierce leg thrust, and as soon as Scott parried it, he struck with an aggressive right hook.

  One that was snagged in mid-air.

  “Veck, Remmy, no!”

  But it was too late. Scott’s fingers were already coiled around Becan’s wrist, and with a instinctive application of pressure, electricity surged through the Irishman’s spine. Scott flicked the wrist, and Becan cut a flip onto the floor. For the second time, he landed flat on his back.

  “Tha’s bollocks!” Becan said with a groan. “Yeh can’t use the Dostoevsky Special!”

  Scott laughed and took out his mouthpiece. “What’s that rule again?”

  “If I can’t stop it, yeh can’t bloody use it!”

  “Right, that was it. I’d forgotten.”

  “Bleedin’ righ’ yeh forgot,” Becan said, as Scott assisted him up. “I want some private Nightman sparrin’ lessons.”

  Scott fought back a grin. He hated training with Dostoevsky. But it did have its rewards. Scott was now one of the few people who could go toe to toe with Becan. At least, go toe to toe with him sometimes. Becan was the better fighter, hands down. But every now and then, Scott had a good day. A day when everything worked. This was a very good day.

  “So wha’s tha’ make the score this month?” Becan asked with a glare. “Me, twenty, you, one?”

  “I’ve taken you down more than once.”

  “Bollocks! Name a second time!”

  “Last Thursday.”

  “…name a third time!”

  Scott tried not to laugh. “I guess that means we’re through for today?”

  “Righ’. We’re bloody through.” Becan pulled off his headgear. His hair was a sweat-tangled mess.

  But Scott’s hair was worse—practically dripping, and he ran a hand back to mat it down. A fight against Becan could turn a human being into a sweat factory, especially a fight that ended in victory. It took every grain of athleticism to keep pace with the Irishman’s prowess, and sometimes not even that was enough.

  But this time it had been.

  “So wha’ abou’ these rookies?” Becan asked as he stepped to the edge of the ring to throw off his sparring gear.

  Scott knew Becan was changing the subject. He always did that when he lost. But Scott didn’t mind. “What about them?”

  “Do we know anythin’?”

  Scott shook his head. “I haven’t even seen their papers. You know as much as I do.”

  “Yeh know wha’ I think is bloody ridiculous? The fact tha’ it took three bloody months to get reinforcements. That’s flickin’ insane.”

  “Clarke did say we were getting more reinforcements, in addition to Esther and Maksim. We just don’t know who they are.”

  “Or when we’ll have them?”

  “Or when we’ll have them.”

  Becan zipped his duffle bag closed and slung it over his shoulder. “I’m not surprised. Clarke never knows anythin’.”

  The two men walked from the gymnasium and stepped out onto the grounds. Rain had already begun to fall outside, and they hurriedly made their way to the barracks. They managed to get there without becoming soaked.

  “How bloody fitting is this?” Becan asked, shaking the drops from his hair. “Even the rookies arrive in a storm.”

  Scott chuckled. “Clarke and I were talking about that earlier. That’s got to be more than coincidence.”

  “They should put a sign on the airstrip: ‘Welcome to hell—it froze over.’ Or, it was frozen when we arrived, at least.”

  Scott laughed a bit more. “I remember everything about our first night here, as if it were yesterday. What a miserable night.”

  “It was worth it, least for me it was.” The Irishman winked. “I got to see Sveta showerin’.”

  “Only you would consider that payoff.”

  “No…” Becan said with a smile. “Only you wouldn’t.”

  Scott said nothing as he continued to walk. Svetlana. He thought about her quite often. How could he not? But there was pain with her memory, too. There was Siberia. There was Anatoly. There was goodbye. And the thought of that still made him hurt.

  “Ah well,” Becan said. “She was a little too flat-chested for me, annyway.”

  Scott shot him a glare.

  Becan stared back. “Wha’?”

  “I bet she’d appreciate you saying that,” Scott said scathingly.

  “Remmy, it was a joke. She was a nice bit o’ skirt.”

  “That’s not the point.” Scott sighed and walked on. “Never mind.” To even try and explain it to Becan would be useless. Becan saw only her body. He saw blond hair, blue eyes, and small breasts. He saw just what she consisted of. He didn’t see her. The Irishman was like that with every woman.

  “Didn’t mean to cheese yeh off. I’m sorry.” After several moments, he offered a small smile. “If it makes yeh feel anny better, I don’t think she was into me, either. The first time she saw me, she screamed.”

  Scott tried not to laugh, but did anyway.

  “There yeh go. Laughin’s good!”

  Becan genuinely was who he was. Genuinely superficial, usually, but genuine nonetheless. Scott supposed that was better than nothing.

  “So enough abou’
tha’. How abou’ Nicole?”

  “If you say one thing about the size of Nikki’s breasts—”

  Becan raised his hands in defense. “Righ’, I’m not tha’ dumb.” A moment later, he smiled. “Yeh must be excited.”

  Excited didn’t even begin to cover it. Ecstatic was a more appropriate word. “I can’t wait. I almost can’t believe it’s this Friday.”

  “I can’t wait to meet her, either.”

  Scott could definitely wait for Becan to meet her. Without guilt. “She already feels like she knows everyone. She’s heard stories about the whole crew.”

  “Yeh better not be tellin’ her lies abou’ me.”

  “Everything I told her was true. Like the time we were in Turkey, and you forgot to bring ammunition.”

  “Grand. Thanks for sharin’ tha’ one.”

  “And the time Jay crippled that canrassi, and you tried to ride it.”

  Becan broke out in a laugh. “Class.”

  “I pretty much told her everything.”

  Becan smiled for a moment, before he fell into purposeful silence. It lasted for several seconds before he spoke. “Did yeh tell her a date?”

  Scott stopped in the hall. “What?”

  Becan turned to face him. “Did yeh tell her a date? To get married. Did the two o’ yeh even talk abou’ it yet?”

  Scott met him with a silence indicative of uncertainty. They hadn’t set a date. They’d barely even talked about it at all. In truth, he wasn’t even sure how to go about it. She was in North America, and he was in the middle of Russia. They were engaged, yes—but what did that mean in a relationship like theirs? It would work out. He knew it had to. But he still wasn’t quite sure how. “Not yet, but…I know we’ll talk about that when she gets here. We’ll figure it out, rest assured.” Some kind of way.

  The Irishman smiled. “I know yeh will, Remmy. You’re a good man. Good men figure things like tha’ ou’.”

  “And we will,” Scott said. “We definitely will.”

  Though that was the last time that day Scott spoke of Nicole, she played in his mind from then on. The same as she had all week. The two of them would surely figure it out. It wasn’t a choice. It was something the two of them had to do. Everything hinged on their faith.

  And of that, they had plenty.

  2050 hours

  Though night was beginning in Novosibirsk, it was 9:50 in the morning in Michigan. It was the perfect time for him to call. After Scott had punched in her number, he listened as the phone rang on the other side of the world.

  The months since Scott’s transfer from Richmond had been lonely ones. Scott’s earlier conversation with Becan only served to remind him of it. He and Nicole had passed through every negative flurry that an engaged couple could have passed through. Confusion. Disheartenment. Bitterness. He still remembered the last thing he had said to her in person. See you in Detroit. How life had dramatically changed.

  And yet, they held on. Love held on. He could still call, and she would still answer with that smile in her voice. That was all they needed.

  The ringing stopped. The line picked up.

  “Hello?”

  “Dobry utra, my American princess.”

  She was smiling. He could tell. “Hey there, handsome prince…”

  It didn’t matter what she called him. She was there, and that was all that mattered. There had been several times when they’d almost lost it. They’d almost lost everything they’d built for six years. But they pulled through. The fires only served to refine them. “What’s going on?”

  “Not much. Just getting ready for my little trip.”

  “Little trip?” Scott smiled.

  “Yesss,” she drawled. “I won a free vacation on a game show.”

  He knew what the little trip was, and a game show had nothing to do with it. The truth was that they saved for months, and they split the cost of a round-trip ticket to Novosibirsk. God had opened the way. “Oh really?”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  “Where to?”

  “To the armpit of the universe.”

  Scott laughed. “Congratulations, baby. You must be excited.”

  “I am. A handsome prince will be picking me up.”

  “I know. So who is he?”

  “Very funny!”

  He chuckled. On many occasions, Nicole had told him that being corny was his greatest gift. At least she found it amusing. “Four days away, baby.”

  “I knooow. I’m so excited.”

  “What do you have planned for today?”

  She sighed. “Not much—I’m taking it easy. Tomorrow I’ll be doing a lot of shopping.”

  “Sounds like fun.”

  She laughed. “You know it. How about you? It’s late over there…”

  He nodded absently. “It’s almost nine.”

  “Why are you up so late?”

  He grinned. He couldn’t wait to tell her. He was about to meet their newest additions: a demolitionist and a scout. It was still so hard to believe. “We’re getting two rookies tonight.” His grin widened. “A demolitionist—and a scout.”

  “Oh, okay.”

  His head drooped, and he closed his eyes. Deep down inside, her apathy didn’t surprise him. It was about as exciting to her as new shoes were to him. He laughed to himself and went on. “So yeah. They’re coming in about thirty minutes. A teammate and I are meeting them in the hangar.”

  “Sounds like fun,” she answered.

  If she only knew. “It will be.” He couldn’t blame her for not caring. If he were in her shoes, he wouldn’t want to know anything about Novosibirsk either.

  “How’s David?” she asked.

  “He’s good. He still doesn’t know when Sharon is going to head out here. Hopefully soon, though.” He was surprised she hadn’t already. “He misses his kids like crazy.” It was amazing how David held himself together. Every time Scott asked him about it, David told him that Sharon was used to it. Scott thought it was a little tragic. David had his bouts of sadness, and Scott was usually the one to hear them, but overall he was handling the distance with poise.

  “His wife stayed in New York, right?”

  “Yep. She’s staying there with the kids.” The original plan was for Sharon to move to Richmond, Virginia, to be closer to David at that base. Russia had ruined that idea.

  “How are Jayden and Varvara?”

  “They’re good. It’s been about three months now.” That was perhaps one of the strangest things to Scott. In the four months that Scott had known Jayden, the Texan had Varvara for three of them. Yet he still thought of Jayden as the lonely cowboy. That mindset just seemed to fit.

  “I’m glad for him. I can’t wait to meet him. To meet everyone.” He heard her smile again. “I feel like I know them already.”

  “As long as I get some time with you, too.”

  “Mmm,” she said, “sounds sexy.”

  “It will be.” Of that, he was certain. But sex wasn’t part of the equation. They were both traditionalists when it came to waiting. As far as up close and personal, however—that was acceptable anytime.

  He glanced at his clock and sighed. Galina would be there any minute. He had told her to meet him in his quarters, where they would set off for the hangar together. He knew she’d never be late.

  “Scott?”

  His attention returned to Nicole. “Yeah, baby?”

  “…I’ve really missed you.”

  His heart melted. In his world of grenades and assault rifles, words like those brought him home. They gave him hope in the dark night. “I’ve missed you, too.”

  “I can’t wait to see you again.”

  “I’ve been saying that for the past four months.” It felt like so much longer.

  The conversation was halted by a firm knock on the door.

  Scott closed his eyes and sighed. Galina was on time again. For the first time ever, he hated it.

  “What was that?” Nicole asked.

  “Hang
on, sweetie.” Scott pressed his hand over the receiver. “One second, Galya!” He returned to the phone. “I’m sorry—that’s Galina. It’s time for us to go.”

  “You’re going with Galina?”

  “Yeah.”

  There was a hesitation. “Should I be jealous?”

  Scott chuckled. “Only if you want to be.” She had nothing to worry about. It wasn’t that he had anything against Galina. She just wasn’t Nicole.

  Nicole sighed. “I’ll let you go then. Are you going to call tomorrow morning?”

  “You mean tomorrow night?”

  “Right. Whatever it is on your side of the planet.”

  “Definitely.”

  “Good.”

  An exchange of I love yous took place, followed by a pair of goodbyes. Before he knew it, the phone was off, and he once again sat by himself.

  He missed her already.

  Galina was in the hallway, a wet umbrella folded in her hand. As soon as Scott opened the door, she looked up at him and smiled. “Was that your wife-to-be?”

  Scott offered a grimace. “Yes it was, Galina, and thank you for not being just a little bit late tonight.”

  She laughed. “I am sorry. She is still good, yes?”

  “She’s great. She can’t wait until Friday.” He couldn’t either. “You know who we got tonight?”

  Galina’s smile remained. “Maksim and Esther.”

  “You ready?”

  “I am always!”

  “Let’s do it.”

  Clarke’s forecast was spot on target, as merciless rain fell. Though the shower wasn’t heavy, it was constant. It was enough to get everything soaked. It even smelled like bad weather.

  Scott and Galina trekked across the grounds, sheltered under the same umbrella, as operatives from other units dashed through the puddles. “There’s a lot of people out tonight,” Scott said. His eyes scanned the grounds. It was the first time he had seen so many operatives about at curfew. It was obvious why.

  “Yes,” Galina answered. “All the new alphas will be getting here soon. Maybe here already. These are probably the ones going to meet them.”

  “Think our rookies got ‘the speech’ yet?”