This side trip comes out of some scribbling I did about what might be going on back on Epsilon while Aaron Taylor and Caren Flannery are out in the Borderworlds, working with Lucas Ross and the Resistance. General Jackson “Longshot” Hunter is the head of SpecOps and Intelligence for the Epsilon Alliance’s military, but in many ways he’s just a man fighting the same kind of fight his subordinates are–just on a different stage and scale.
Enjoy.
Snow and Coffee
The metal edge of the shovel scraped against the pavement, the rasping sound somehow comforting and drowning out the maelstrom raging in his head. The resolution had made it out of committee, but he couldn’t do a damned thing now, lest he somehow skew the vote or worse.
But it’s a step in the right direction. Damn it all, you can’t forget that.
Alex Sotheby had told him once that his tenure as chief of intelligence and special operations would be frustrating and exciting all at once. Mostly, it had just been frustrating.
Then again, I’m half afraid of the exciting part that must be coming soon.
Alex had also told him that he’d fight not one, but two wars in his lifetime. Somehow, Hunter didn’t think that the ex-pilot turned priest and prophet meant the cold war with the Imperium followed by one with a more heat.
“You’ll know them when they come, Jack. You’ll know it’s happening when it begins. You’ll feel it here.” Alex had touched breastbone. “And then you’ll feel it in your gut and you’ll be sick because you can’t stop it from coming, can’t stop it from happening, and you can’t do anything to make it better. All you can do is keep as many of your people alive as you can and rebuild once it’s over. If the end of it ever comes.”
“Something eating you?”
He heaved a shovelful of snow onto the banks he’d been building to either side of the front walk before he turned toward the voice. Dressed in slacks and a heavy leather jacket, he supposed that it must have been her day off, since otherwise she’d have been in scrubs and sneakers. “What would make you think that?”
His sister smiled faintly and shook her head. “You’re out here shoveling the walks and drive at a house that isn’t yours, one that’s not likely to see its owner anytime soon. If it was springtime, you’d be gardening or mowing the lawn. You’ve got that look. What’s wrong? Work?”
“It’s always work,” he said, turning to start shoveling again. “That’s all there is to me anymore.”
“I didn’t say that, Jack.”
You don’t have to say it, Kath. I already know. He shook his head, tossing another load upward and watching the spray of snow glitter in the afternoon sunshine. His sister took a step closer.
“You could try talking to someone about it.”
“Who would I talk to, Kath?” He just stared at the snow, marveling at how it sparkled even in the weak winter sunshine. “No one else has security clearance.”
“Since when the hell did that matter to you?” she asked softly. She slid her fingers into his and squeezed his hand. “It must be bad if you’re shoveling Madeline Taylor’s front walk.”
“It’s the war,” he said. “That’s all.”
“That’s all, huh?” Kath shook her head, her own gaze wandering further down the street, to the modest brick house where she lived, just a few doors down. She invited him to come there every holiday, every birthday, and every anniversary of the deaths that had rocked them to their foundations. “There’s always been the war. What’s making it worse now?”
There was a part of him that wanted to break down and tell her everything. His sister had been like him once, trained as a SpecOps officer by the Alliance military, trained to do each and every one of the things that he’d been trained to do at the Academy decades before. But she’d walked away after Jonah Frank had been killed on the same mission that had cost him Maida. Jonah had been her partner and Kath had loved him more than anything. Hunter couldn’t blame her for walking away.
“Nothing,” he said. “And everything.”
“Cryptic,” she said, no trace of irony in her voice.
“That’s what they pay me for.”
She shook her head. “They pay you because no one else would take the job.” Her fingers squeezed his again. “Now tell me before it starts to eat you up inside.”
He looked up and down the street, making sure there was no one to hear their soft-spoken conversation, then said, “They’re voting on the Castion resolution.”
“That should make you happy, right? Wasn’t that the planet that the Imperium fired on from orbit?”
“It’s too little and too late, Kath. It’s like–like–I can’t even describe what it’s like. It’s all politics.”
Her smile was gentle and sad. “That’s the story of our lives, Jack. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten.”
He hadn’t, but that didn’t mean he had to like it.
“So the vote on this business regarding Castion’s got you locked up tighter than a sealed airlock. I’m almost afraid to ask why, since I know the answer’s going to be classified. The answer’s always classified, isn’t it?”
“Not always,” he said softly. “Just most of the time.”
“So are you saying it’s not classified this time?”
He laughed weakly and shook his head. “No. No, this time it’s classified, just like most of the other times.”
“Then I guess you’d better not spill,” she said, her voice mockingly doubtful. “I don’t have security clearance anymore.”
She did, but she didn’t know it, and she’d be angry if she did know. As far as Katherine Hunter was concerned, she’d been out of the Intelligence game since they’d buried Joe Frank. She didn’t know that her big brother had leveraged things so she was still on the books with high-level clearance.
Hell, if she didn’t have it, who could I talk to about what’s eating me up inside?
She squeezed his hand again. “Come over. I’ll make some coffee and you can spill your guts.”
“I didn’t think that you liked to see guts when you weren’t working,” he quipped. She snorted softly.
“Cute. Are you coming, or not?”
He closed his eyes and nodded slowly. “Yeah. I can finish this later.”
“I’m hoping you won’t feel the need to,” she said. “He’s not coming back anytime soon, is he?”
“No,” Hunter said. “No, not anytime soon. Not until I call him home.”
Kath nodded. “I thought so. Finish up, then. I’ll be waiting.”
Hunter mustered up a smile and pecked his sister on the cheek. “Ten minutes,” he promised.
“Ten minutes. I’ll be waiting.”
Eleven minutes later, he was walking into his sister’s house, shucking off his gloves and shrugging out of his jacket. A fire crackled on the grates in her fireplace and he could hear her humming in the kitchen, banging around and sounding…happy.
How long has it been since I was happy like that?
“Kath?”
“Kitchen.”
He smiled as he hung up his coat and stamped the snow from his military-issue boots. “I figured that out.” He wandered through the living room and into her kitchen.
Cookies. The woman was making chocolate chip cookies.
All he could do was stand and blink at her.
“You were taking too long,” she said, thrusting the first sheet of cookies into the oven. “Start talking, Jack. Why’s Castion so important to you–more important than any other world out there on the Border. I haven’t seen you so bothered since…” Her voice trailed away and she stared at him for a long, silent moment. “Carmiline. There’s something connecting them.”
He took a seat at her kitchen island and picked a chocolate chip out of the batter left in her mixing bowl. “Keep going,” he murmured.
“This is a guessing game now?”
“I can neither confirm nor deny the veracity of that statement.” One corner of his mouth twitched toward a smile. Kath shot him a glare, then laughed.
“Fine, a guessing game it is. One of your operatives was at both assaults. That’s my guess.”
“You never should have left, Kath,” he said softly.
She shook her head. “Is that your way of telling me I’m right?”
He nodded slightly “I could still use you.”
“You can’t afford me,” she told him. “And I can’t afford the heartbreak. It’s bad enough watching what it does to you. I can’t go through that kind of stress and pain again. I know you live every loss and failure and hurt with those men and women and I admire you for it so much but I couldn’t do it. I can’t do it.”
Hunter nodded. “Of course. I should stop asking.”
“No,” she said. “Don’t stop asking. If you stop asking, that means that I’ve lost something that I don’t want to lose.” She leaned against the island across from him, palms digging into the rim of the marble countertop. “It was one of the younger ones, wasn’t it? From one of the more recent classes.”
“Fifty-seven,” he said.
“Taylor,” she said softly. “It was Taylor. He was at Carmiline and Castion, wasn’t he?”
He looked away, saying nothing. He didn’t have to. His silence would confirm that she’d nailed it.
His baby sister knew him too well.
“That’s why you were at her house, shoveling that damn walk.” Kath straightened and came around the counter, sliding her arm around his shoulders. “Jack, he’s not your son.”
“I know that,” he said, leaning into his sister’s embrace. “But I’m the only real father figure he’s had since he was eight years old. Madeline never let anyone else get close.”
“She wasn’t your wife, either.”
His throat grew tight. “No. But then, I’ve never loved anyone else the way I loved Mai anyway. Madeline was different. She was that friend who’s nearly a sister, but isn’t. She needed someone she could trust and I was there.” I earned that trust. I just wish she’d let me help her more.
“Does that kid even know how much you care?” Kath asked, rubbing his spine with her palm. “Does he have any idea everything you’ve done for him?”
“No,” Hunter said simply. “Maybe someday, he’ll sort it out. Until then, it’s need to know and he doesn’t need to know it.”
“You’re grooming him the way Marr groomed you,” she said. “You thinking of getting out of the game?”
“I can’t until the war’s over.” He looked at his sister, saw the trace of pain that flickered through her expression. She wanted him out. Maybe she even thought that she needed him out. But what would he do when he finally walked away from the job? I’d go insane, that’s what. “I can’t until the Imperium’s not a problem we need to worry about anymore. I’m not going to leave that problem for someone else to inherit.”
“Alex Sotheby’s crazy,” Kath said. “You know that, right? Regardless of what he said to you that night when we were drunk about wars and destiny and all that bullshit, you don’t have to believe it because he’s nuts. I don’t know what happened to him on Demar, but it scrambled his brains. I say this as a neurologist–something turned his brain into scrambled eggs.”
“Alex isn’t crazy,” Hunter murmured. “Everyone just thinks he is and that’s the only thing that’s been keeping him safe since he told Roger Marr to blow his rank tabs out his ass.”
“That and you.” She shook her head slightly. “You hang onto some things too tightly, Jack. You have to learn to let go.”
“Like you?” he asked, then bit down on his tongue. The words had come out softly, but bitterly–far more bitter than she deserved.
But his sister, his beloved, long-suffering sister, just sighed and shook her head. “However you need to do it, Jack. My way isn’t everyone’s way. It’s just how I picked up the pieces and moved on after Joe died.” She ran her fingers through his short-cropped hair and rested her chin on his shoulder. “The way you pulled yourself back together after Mai was to throw yourself into your work. I just wonder how long you can keep that up before it kills you and I’m alone.”
There it was–the quiet reminder that he was all she had left in the universe. She’d never fallen in love again after Jonah died, never thought about having a family. She’d found a new career and thrown herself into it. It had been hard for her in the early years after Joe and Mai were gone, since he had still been working field operations then. Now, he rarely left Epsilon, so they were near, should one need the other. Most often, she would find him at the silent, empty Taylor house down the street, tending the lawn, the gardens, shoveling snow–whatever he felt like needed doing. It wasn’t like he had his own to take care of. He lived on the Academy grounds in a tiny cottage, his lawn and landscaping tended by the Academy’s groundskeepers.
It was a blessing and a curse, in some ways.
“War’s coming, Kath.” He lifted his gaze to hers, smothering a wince at the pain he saw in her eyes. “We have to be the ones to choose the terms or else we’re going to lose.”
“What do you need me to do?” she asked. “Tell me, I’ll do it.”
He shook his head. “Nothing,” he said in a whisper. “There’s nothing you can do right now.” The timer on the oven dinged softly and he smiled. “Except maybe get me one of those cookies.”
Kath laughed and gave him a gentle shove. “You’re awful.”
“Only sometimes.” He grinned back at her as she headed for the oven to rescue the first batch of cookies. “I might need your help someday, Kath,” he said “I might need it with something that you might not like. When I do, I’ll ask. Until then, this is all I need. A soft place to fall. A little sister who remembers coffee and chocolate chip cookies and every so often tries to rescue me from myself.”
“What are baby sisters for?”
“Apparently that,” he said.
Her laughter soothed the hurt and frustration that had been building up inside, and by the time he left her house hours later, he felt like maybe, just maybe, he could face the world for another night and another day.
He’d survive until the next crisis, at least.
