Repairman Jack [10]-Harbingers (15 page)

She punched him lightly on the arm. "Come on, Jack. Even the Lone Ranger had Tonto."

Maybe she was right, but he couldn't see himself becoming a card-carrying member of the MV.

"I'll think on it."

"Give it a try. Mix with them awhile. If it's not a good fit, you walk away. If you think it has possibilities, you hang on awhile longer. Where's the downside to a trial run?"

Good question. But it didn't make the decision any easier. He guessed he'd—

"Mom! Mom!" Vicky came running in holding out her right fist. "Look what happened!"

She opened her hand to show them.

At first Jack didn't know what he was looking at: white, boxy, smaller than a Chiclet, with reddish discoloration on one side. Then he recognized it.

A tooth.

"It just came out!"

Gia gripped Vicky's jaw. "Let me see. Is this the one that's been loose?"

Vicky nodded as she opened wide and stuck the tip of her pinkie into an empty socket in her left upper jaw. "Righ' 'ere."

"That's great, honey. Looks like you made another five dollars."

Vicky grinned. "No, this one's worth ten. At least!"

Jack slapped his forehead. "Ten bucks for a tooth? Where are the pliers? I'm going to pull all mine out and—"

"It's only for teeth that
fall
out, silly."

"Yeah, but ten dollars! The Tooth Fairy only left me a quarter when I was a kid."

Gia gave her daughter a sidelong look. "You got only five dollars for the last teeth."

"Yeah, but those were incisors and canines. This is a molar. It's worth double."

Incisors and canines… how did she know this stuff?

Gia smiled. "Where does it say that?"

"In the Tooth Fairy Rule Book."

"Well, if you can show me that, I'll believe it. Otherwise I think the Tooth Fairy will think five is plenty."

"Aaaw."

13

Jack hung around until after Vicky went to bed. They gave her half an hour before creeping upstairs to check on her. They found her curled into a ball under her covers, her long-lashed eyes closed, her hair, released from its braids, fanned out like a dark cloud on her pillow. The picture of innocence.

Gia gently slipped her hand under the pillow and extracted the tooth from its resting place. Then she pulled a five-dollar bill from her pocket.

"You're not giving her ten?" Jack whispered.

Gia smiled. "Five's plenty. She knows there's no Tooth Fairy but she's a little operator who likes to see how far she can push the game. Don't worry. She expects five, so she won't be disappointed."

Jack felt his throat tighten as he watched her slip the bill under the pillow. Everything pointed to dark days ahead. He had to find a way to protect these two—make that three—from whatever was coming. But how?

He felt leaden and inadequate as they tiptoed out of the room. Maybe he should look into the MV. Maybe they'd have a way.

"Meet you downstairs," Gia said. "I have to make a quick trip."

"To 'sprinkle'?"

She smiled. "Yes, but don't worry—I don't have diabetes."

"So I've been told."

As Gia stepped into the bathroom, Jack fished a five out of his pocket and tiptoed back into the bedroom where he added it to the stash under Vicky's pillow. As he turned and started back out, he heard a little voice behind him.

"Thanks, Jack."

14

After he got home, Jack sat by his front window and watched the sidewalk across the street. He stayed up till after midnight, but the watcher never showed.

SUNDAY

1

Cal Davis watched Miller yawn.

"Tired?"

Miller gave him one of his patented flat stares. "What do you think?"

They sat at a card table, playing gin. Cal had just won the latest round, but they'd been fairly even through the night. The
long
night. He glanced at his watch: 7:30. Only half an hour left to the shift. He probably looked as tired as Miller.

"I think I'm glad. I hope you're exhausted."

Miller's stare morphed into a glare. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Just what I said. Because you're the reason we've had to go to twelve-hour shifts."

"Bullshit."

No—truth. And Miller knew it. Sending Zeklos down to the minors had screwed up the customary eight-hour rotation. They'd already been too short-handed to do that right, and the loss of Zeklos had tipped the apple cart.

The Oculus killings and attendant yeniçeri losses had thinned the ranks—and not just by death. Some of the less devoted members of the corps had turned tail and run. For a while those who remained had hunted them down and terminated them, but now they didn't have enough manpower for that.

"We could have kept Zeklos for guard duty and just not sent him out on ops."

Miller snorted. "He'd have found a way to mess that up too."

Cal shook his head. "You're really something, man."

"And as for the shift change," Miller said, jabbing a finger at him, "the twelve-hour deal works out better. Sure we're stuck with longer shifts, but now we've got more flexibility. We might even be able to start taking vacations again."

Cal heaved a mental sigh. Vacation… when was the last? Long, long time. That had been in Aruba. He'd found an array of unattached women down there. A true paradise.

Maybe Miller was right. Maybe the twelve-hour rotation would work out.

The door chimed. Miller rose and checked the video monitor.

"Well, well, well. Look who's here."

"Zeklos?"

"No. The Oculus's new best friend."

"The Heir?"

Cal suppressed a grin as he jumped up and joined Miller at the monitor. Yep. Here he was, waiting on the step.

His talk with Jack yesterday must have worked. Cal had come away thinking he'd failed—miserably. Talking to the guy had been like having a heart-to-heart with a wall. Hadn't shown the slightest trace of interest. Either he had an A-class poker face, or something had changed his mind.

"You can call him that," Miller said. "I think he's a phony. What's he doing back here?"

"The O invited him, remember? And so did I."

Miller wheeled on him. "You?"

"Yeah. Tracked him down yesterday and pitched him on throwing in with us. My silver tongue must have worked its magic."

"You mean your shit tongue. I thought we were done with this jerk."

"Buzz him in."

Miller shook his head. "Let him cool his heels."

Cal reached past him and pressed the door release.

"Now."

2

Jack was about to hit the CALL button again when the lock buzzed open.

He gripped the knob with a gloved hand, but hesitated to turn it.

Big decision, this. Joining up with these guys, with any guys… it didn't feel right. He'd thought on it all night and had arrived at the conclusion that

Gia had a point: The Otherness was too big to lace alone. So where was the downside of giving it a try? If he didn't like it, or they didn't like him—Miller, he was sure, had already made up his mind about that—he'd walk away. At least he'd have given it a shot.

He rubbed his chest with his free hand. The burning and itching had returned, but not as severe as yesterday. Maybe the scars were getting used to the place.

He turned the knob and heard a bell as he pushed through. Took his eyes a few seconds to adjust from morning sunshine brightness to the dimmer light within. When they did he found himself facing Davis and Miller and two more yeniçeri he hadn't seen before. Davis and Miller had empty hands, but the other pair had their pistols out as they moved his way from the partitioned rear of the space.

Davis gave them an all-clear wave. "It's okay, guys." Then he turned to Jack with a smile. "Welcome back."

Miller scowled. "What are you doing here?"

Jack looked at him. "And a gracious good morning to you too, Mister Miller."

"You didn't answer my question."

"Back to have another tete-a-tete with your fearless leader. You okay with that?"

Miller said nothing but his scowl deepened.

Davis turned to one of the yeniçeri. "Tell the O that the Heir is here."

As the guy headed for the stairs, Jack heard a chime. Davis stepped back and looked at what Jack assumed to be a monitor, then jabbed a button.

The lock buzzed, the bell rang as the door opened, and in stepped Zeklos.

Miller threw his hands in the air. "The rat-faced boy joins the bunco Heir. Now my day's complete."

Zeklos's eyes darted back and forth, hunting for a friendly face, or at least one not overtly hostile. Jack felt sorry for the little guy.

"Zeklos," Davis said, his expression neutral. "What's up?"

"I am going to Idaho camp."

"Fuck!" Miller shouted. "You hear what he just said?" He pointed at Zeklos. "That's why you're outta here!"

Zeklos took a step back. "What? What did I say?"

"You just mentioned the location of a training camp!"

"But he is Heir."

Jack said, "And 'Idaho' isn't exactly a pinpoint location."

Miller's pointer swiveled toward Jack. "You stay out of this! This is a yeniçeri matter!"

"A bully is a bully, yeniçeri or not."

Miller took a step forward. "You mind your own lucking—"

"Easy," Davis said, grabbing a tree-trunk arm. "Can't we all just get along?"

While Miller gave Davis a long, hard glare, Jack glanced at Zeklos and found the little guy staring at him with an odd look in his eyes. Jack could almost read his mind: First this guy returns my gun, then the Oculus calls him the Heir, and now he sticks up for me.

Although that hadn't been Jack's intention—bullies just plain pissed him off—he figured he'd made a friend. Zeklos appeared to be on the outs with everyone else here, but he still might prove to be a source for another slant in the workings of this enclave.

Finally Miller turned back to Zeklos.

"If you're going back to camp, what are you doing here?"

'They cannot take me until next week."

"So?"

"So…" His Adam's apple bobbed. "So, until that time, I do not have anyplace else to go."

"Let him hang around," Davis said.

Miller gave him a disgusted, you-are-such-a-pansy look and turned away.

Jack shook his head. The MV sure as hell looked like it needed some leadership. Wasn't anyone in charge here?

The yeniçeri who'd been sent upstairs returned.

"He wants to see him right away."

"Shit," Miller said, shaking his head. "Okay, but we pat him down first."

"I don't think so."

"Sorry," Davis said. "No one but yeniçeri are allowed to be armed in the presence of the O."

Jack thought about that. Not unreasonable. For now.

"Okay." He pulled the Glock from the small of his back and his PK-11 from his ankle holster. "But this is the last time I give up my iron. I'm either trusted or I'm out of here."

Miller flashed his non-grin. "Then you're outta here."

"That'll be up to the O," Davis said. "Let's go."

3

The Oculus met them at the door to his office, smiling as he shook hands with Jack and fixed him with an inky stare.

"I'm so glad you decided to join us."

"Not quite yet. There's still a lot I want to know."

He ushered Jack into the room.

"Of course, of course. That's only right and sensible."

The four of them situated themselves as before: The Oculus behind the desk, Jack in the chair, Davis and Miller on flank.

"What do you want to know?" the Oculus said. "Simply ask and I'll tell you whatever I can."

Jack leaned back. "Davis and I had a little talk yesterday and he told me about the Twins. Who were they, where'd they come from, where do they fit in all this?"

The Oculus steepled his fingers. "I'm not sure."

Here we go with the evasions.

"I thought you were going to answer my questions."

"I can tell you only what I know. No one knows much about the Twins—they weren't exactly forthcoming about their origins or their mission. But I'll tell you what I've pieced together over the years."

"Fair enough."

"As I told you, the yeniçeri were started by the Sentinel back in the First Age, and he maintained them from prehistory through the Dark Ages. For some unknown reason he abandoned them in the sixteenth century. The Oculi stayed on watch, but for five hundred years they received virtually no Alarms. During that time the yeniçeri ranks withered due to lack of need."