Chapter Fifteen
“Well this is fuckedup,” Ahtisham said. Kavon didn’t remember ever hearing the man swear before.
“Funny, that’s what I said when they told me,” Les said.
Ahtisham scratched the side of his neck. “Is there a reason you’ve decided to brief me on this?”
Kavon traced the grain on the table top. “The Talent community can’t keep this secret. This is the fate of our world, and all of us share it.”
“Yeah,” Les said. “And if we’re going to be miserable, you might as well share in the unhappiness.”
“Gee, thanks,” Ahtisham said. “So, are we looking for the human partner or are we focusing on the durance? I’m feeling useless in this fight, so I need someone to point me in the right direction.”
“You’re not alone there,” Rima said. “I’m almost sorry I didn’t become a shaman so I could see trouble coming at me.”
“Time-walking doesn’t work when events are this chaotic,” Kavon said. He wished he could slip out of his body and peek into a future where he had managed to navigate this disaster. “Shamans don’t have any advantage over magic users going into this fight.”
“Other than the obvious advantage that you can see the combatants,” Ahtisham said softly.
Rima spoke up. “And on that note, Joe is a shaman. If he’s on the team, shouldn’t we tell him what’s going on?”
When Les laughed, his voice was rough and without any humor. “Man, I am as pro-sharing as a man can get, but maybe we can avoid dragging any new people into this until we have something that approaches a plan?”
“I agree,” Kavon said. He didn’t want untested and unproven agents in the middle of this particular fight.
Darren appeared ready to argue the point, but Coretta spoke up before he could. “So what are we going to do if Pochi decides to start a new purge?”
Kavon grimaced. Sometimes he disliked Coretta’s habit of going straight for the jugular.
After looking around the room, Les said, “Please tell me that your silence isn’t a suggestion that we’ll all die in a fiery blaze of glory.”
“I assume there will be less blaze and glory and more death,” Darren said. “However, Bennu is on our side and I think Pochi is willing to wait, at least for a while.” He gave Kavon a worried look and touched his hip. Kavon felt a tingle in his own mark. If Pochi killed them, Bennu would probably be forced off the earth with them. It was a leash, one that the other ifrit had only attached to Bennu. That suggested that Pochi had more standing with the other ifrit.
“So the little hummingbird I had to carry off the battlefield is the great docent general?” Les asked. “That’s not reassuring, because he got his ass kicked.”
“He did? Wonderful,” Coretta said wearily.
“Pochi lost when he fought alone.” Kavon focused on Darren. “Bennu was tactically useless. Brief Ahtisham on what happened in the battle and get some advice on asymmetrical battle strategies. Coretta, keep Milton working on that list. Rima, Les, get cell phone records from our other hot spots and see if you can find anyone who appeared at multiple scenes.”
That bit of practicality was all it took to push Darren out of his despair and back toward his more natural optimism. “As soon as Ahtisham stops telling me what an idiot my guide is, I’ll be out to help with the paperwork,” he said. His energy filled the room, and the rest of the team nodded.
“And I thought SWAT was dangerous.” Ahtisham rubbed a hand over his face. “Okay, I have an issue to discuss with the group, but it might be a need-to-know sensitive information sort of topic.”
“Classified?” Coretta asked.
“No, sensitive,” Ahtisham said. “Which means it doesn’t come under review for classified status because it technically isn’t, but unless you already know the information, you don’t know what information to request under the Freedom of Information Act,” Ahtisham said.
“So military,” Kavon concluded.
“Yeah. And since I assume you brought me into this meeting because I’m a sniper, I assume you need to know.”
Kavon put his phone to one side and gave Ahtisham his full attention.
“Shamans can be a little difficult to target in the field. Sometimes a sniper’s perception gets a little strange around shamans because they have a weird habit of warping perception.”
“Why do I sense conspiracy theory levels of badness is about to follow that,” Les asked.
Ahtisham shrugged. “Let's say, for the sake of argument,” Ahtisham said with exaggerated nonchalance, “that the military might assign shamanic spotters to snipers in zones where there is a known Talent community. Snipers ideally go for head shots, but to make that sort of shot requires a vision that can penetrate Talent-illusions.”
