On the petite side, with jet-black hair cut into a blunt bob around a thin, barely wrinkled face, the SOA director wore a precisely tailored business suit. She held a tote bag in one hand and a rosewood cane in the other. The cane had intricately carved steps twisting upward to the image of a Shinto shrine at the top. Delicate kanji were written over every step, the prayers a quiet hum to Patrick’s senses.
Setsuna let the door close behind her and tapped it with her cane, warding the room for silence. Static flowed over the walls and ceiling and floor, shrouding them in a bubble of privacy.
“There are rumors already about a congressional hearing,” Nadine added.
Patrick made a face. “Great. What I wouldn’t give to be back in the military so the brass could deal with the mess and leave me out of it.”
His after-action reports regarding the Thirty-Day War were highly classified and he had gladly let the chain of command handle the scrutiny of the public once the fighting was over. Unfortunately, Patrick didn’t think he’d be able to get out of testifying before Congress about what happened this week if they subpoenaed him.
“I may have to reach out to the Joint Chiefs regarding this issue. We’ll see,” Setsuna said.
Nadine took a sip of her coffee and made a face at whatever she tasted. “We have Rachel to take the fall. That should be helpful to a degree.”
Patrick snorted. “Until the Dominion Sect decides she’s better off dead in order to keep their secrets.”
“She is under twenty-four-hour watch at a classified location,” Setsuna said.
“Running black sites on domestic soil again, are we?” Patrick asked caustically.
Setsuna leveled a flat look his way. “The SOA does no such thing.”
Patrick rolled his eyes, letting her stick to whatever story she wanted to tell. He’d claim deniability by way of unconsciousness all the way to the courts in that area. “When can I leave?”
“You still need to be debriefed.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“You’re recovering from a gunshot wound in your thigh, a stab wound to your hand, severe bruising, and magical backlash on top of magical burnout,” Nadine pointed out.
“I can negotiate with the doctor or just AMA my way out.”
“They’re doctors. We don’t negotiate with medical personnel like that.”
“AMA it is.”
Nadine picked his cell phone off the table and waved it at him. It had survived the fight in Central Park with only a slightly cracked screen, which was impressive. “I have a text from Smooth Dog who insists you’ll try to pull that stunt and to handcuff you to the bed as a preventative measure.”
“Kinky, but he knows that’s not my kind of kink. Give me my phone.”
Nadine handed it over. She knew his passcode for the same reason he knew hers. Patrick wasn’t surprised she’d been monitoring his phone while he’d been out of it. Patrick unlocked the phone and stared down at the text messages from his old team captain. Smooth Dog was a call sign Captain Gerard Breckenridge would never live down as long as Patrick was alive to tease him mercilessly about it.
The text conversation between Gerard and Nadine was from ten hours ago, the glut of messages spanning roughly thirty minutes.
“Huh,” he muttered. “Guess they’re no longer running dark.”
That didn’t necessarily mean his old team was accessible, or they’d have tried to call. Most likely Gerard had bribed someone to give him clearance to use his personal cell phone and get a signal boost.
Patrick tapped back into the general queue of text conversations and hit Marek’s next. He didn’t get past reading the latest one.
Everyone safe. Jono’s with us.
Seeing Jono’s name reminded Patrick of all the problems this case had spawned for him personally and how he wasn’t remotely ready to process any of it. His VA therapist would probably have something to say about that, but Patrick was all for keeping his head in the sand for a little while longer.
He dropped his phone on the bed, sighing heavily. “Did we lose anyone?”
“We have more critically injured than dead, but yes. We lost some agents. They died making sure soultakers didn’t escape Central Park. When the spellwork blew, the overload took the demons apart since they were tied to it,” Setsuna said.
“Anyone I know?”
