Cloud Rebel (R-D #3)(76)

That's what I wanted to fix in all this—the future. Fix it so the major events wouldn't be altered and the rogue gods would be just as dead. At this point in time, many of them still lived, and someone had called at least one of the hidden rogues out and set him on Earth to destroy everything.

Liron has a weak spot.

I reminded myself of that. I merely had to figure out how to exploit it, in order to convince him to leave Earth alone. Everything else in my plan hinged on that.

*

Notes—Colonel Hunter

"You should beef up your security," Matt said. "If you intend to stay here."

"I thought this whole, crazy idea the President has didn't have merit," I blustered.

"But what if he's captured the attention of the Lyristolyi by attempting to evacuate everybody? Wouldn't it be perfect and serve to panic everybody if they manage to kill people while they're trying to escape from D.C. and New York? You've seen the gridlock on the news. It's prime time for them to act. Who do you think will start lobbing missiles first if they see hundreds of thousands drop dead while they're stuck in traffic jams on the streets?"

"Granville," I mumbled. "Who would he target first?"

"I think he'd consider a two-prong attack—the Middle East and Russia. If he wants to toss China into the mix," Matt went silent for a moment.

"And we have more than enough missiles to destroy them and every other country on the planet," I added for him. "All while they launch a counter-attack, and that will be all she wrote."

"It's what the Lyristolyi want—you can bet on that. They launch the initial attacks, then sit back and watch the rest of us destroy ourselves. To all outside interests, we will have destroyed ourselves. The Lyristolyi will remain blameless in this action. Except we know better. That's why you need to beef up your security. They'll be coming after anybody who can point a finger in their direction, you know. You're vulnerable—more than you realize, Colonel Hunter. Find some guards. Look for a way to get out if you have to. It may be the only thing standing between them and total destruction."

"Holy, f*cking shit," I muttered. Right then, I wanted Corinne. And Rafe. The Rafe we knew, and not the one who may as well be dead. Those two I would trust with my life.

"What about Laci?" I asked. "Will they look for her, too? She's still at her sister's house."

"Anything's possible."

"Just when you think it can't get any worse," I sighed.

"Worse? That's coming," Matt said and ended the call.

*

Corinne

I'd determined that I couldn't talk to Ilya—not the present me. The past me—I'd already done that. It meant revisiting the past and concealing myself to hear the conversation between us, but I did it.

It was painful.

"Cabbage, all of us face terrible things. No matter how good we are, we cannot prevent all of them from happening." The sheets rustled as Ilya shoved them back and worked himself into a sitting position beside me—the me from the past.

"Will you answer a question for me, then?" she/I sighed.

"Always."

"What if," she began and then stopped.

"What if what?" Ilya said when she/I hesitated.

"Ilya, I love you more than anything," she said.

"And I you."

Watching from my hidden vantage point, I wept while dampening the sound. I still loved him more than anything, yet things had gone so far awry he couldn't be brought back from it.

"But what if—what if I'm faced with a choice—of saving you from something awful, or letting the enemy get away?" she said.

"Cabbage, listen to me," he said, pulling her face around so his eyes met with hers/mine. "Get that piece of excrement. No matter what. I have been taking care of myself for a very long time. Let me worry about me in that situation. Take the bastard down."

"Then you do the same, Ilya," she said before kissing him fiercely and drawing away to speak again. "No matter what my situation is, kill him if you can."

"I have never had a love such as this," he declared. "We understand one another."

"I've waited for you my whole life," she said and kissed him again.

I was sobbing as I folded space. We'd made a promise. I'd kept it once. I was about to do it again.

*

Winkler

"Dad, I'm not doing this." Wayne flung out a hand. "It's suicide—on your part. The Pack could turn on me immediately after, and where will all your grand plans be, then?"

"Look, I'm old," I pointed out. "It's only a matter of time before somebody comes to make a challenge. The Pack and the business needs to remain in Winkler hands, not somebody else's. This is to protect you, your sister and the children that will come. You understand me?" I gave him the sternest look I could muster.

The truth was, I had no idea how my father had done this. I was just as belligerent about it then as Wayne was, now. Inwardly I was quaking—I knew I'd have to throw the fight, and any wolf would realize how difficult that would be.

The instinct is strong in favor of preservation. Wayne was correct—it was suicide. He, like me, would be scarred the rest of his life because of it. Because of his role in it.