The Last Mission of the Living (The Last Bastion #2)(54)

Dread filled Lindsey and she regarded the commandant fearfully. “Who’s on it?”

“Dr. Beverly Curran and ten assistants.”

Lindsey drew in a sharp breath.

“When they make their move, you need to be ready.” Commandant Pierce’s dark eyes narrowed. “This is when it becomes difficult to have power and not fall into its trap.”

“Do you want me to let them die? Kill them?”

“I leave that to your discretion.”

The burden set on her soul was heavy and suffocating. Lindsey swallowed.

“I trust you, Vanguard Rooney. Not just because of your stellar record, or your uncanny ability to discover the secrets of The Bastion, but because Castellan Reichardt did. And other than my husband, he’s the noblest man I’ve ever known. You’ll do what you need to do out there. I trust you.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Now make sure you blow them away with excellent results in all your tests.”

“Oh, I can assure you. I will.”

“One way or the other?” The officer raised a sleek eyebrow, an amused smile on her shapely lips.

“One way or the other,” Lindsey answered, already pondering how she could change her test results if she failed any of them.

“You are dismissed,” Commandant Pierce said, and returned to her chair behind the enormous desk.

Lindsey saluted and let herself out of the office and into the smaller area that housed the commandant’s new assistant. Petra sat at her desk, tapping away on a pad.

The woman glanced up at Lindsey and gave her a knowing look. “Always interesting in The Bastion, isn’t it?”

Lindsey wondered how much information Petra’s resources had already fed her. Petra was almost as good as Lindsey with finding out what was going on behind the scenes.

“It wouldn’t be The Bastion if some conspiracy wasn’t brewing in the dark recesses of the halls of power,” Lindsey answered.

“So very true… But at least there are good people doing their best for the city. For our children.” Petra’s voice held a trace of fear.

Lindsey’s gaze shifted to a small family photo on the corner of Petra’s desk, then she noted half a protein bar sitting near it with small bites along the edges.

“Petra, you don’t eat all your rations, do you?”

Swiveling her chair toward Lindsey, Petra crossed her very slender legs. “You’re observant.”

“You give it to your children. The part you don’t eat.”

Nodding, Petra said, “Of course. My husband and I always make sure our children aren’t hungry.”

A tiny bit of guilt seeped into Lindsey’s thoughts. As a single person, she only worried about herself. Though she was aware of the population of the city hurrying about in their lives, she never really thought about all the small sacrifices they might be making daily to ensure their children survived.

“You’re going on that mission, aren’t you, Lindsey? To find more food?”

“Yeah, I am.”

Petra toyed with the plain paper wrapper that her bar sat on. “I’ve never been so scared and yet hopeful in all my life.”

“I’ll make sure the mission is a success, Petra.”

“Myra.”

“What?”

“Myra Petra. That’s my name. You can call me Myra.”

Chuckling with embarrassment, Lindsey responded, “For some reason I thought Petra was your first name.” Chances were Lindsey would continue to think of the woman by her surname. Torran still corrected her when she called him MacDonald.

“I know.” Petra stood up sharply, peering out into the corridor past the glass doors. “The new castellan is here.”

Across the hall a slim, tall woman hesitated as she spoke with her newly appointed assistant. She was a redhead with a streak of pure white hair that originated at her widow’s peak before sweeping up into her bun in an attractive swirl. Dressed in a charcoal gray uniform, the woman was striking in appearance.

“What do you think of her?” Lindsey asked.

“I don’t know yet. She transferred in from the Southern Garrison. Her record is impressive. She was part of the final push, too. She’s the one who ordered the rappel lines to be lowered.”

“So she’s the reason Torran lived,” Lindsey muttered.

“Torran MacDonald? The one you rescued?”

Lindsey responded with a dip of her head.

“You seem to know a lot about him considering you met him once,” Petra observed.

“We talked,” Lindsey replied, her voice neutral.

“Then your mission should be all the more interesting. He’s on the roster.”

Deciding to leave before her personal life was cracked wide open, Lindsey dug a protein bar out of her pocket and tossed it onto the desk. “For your kids.”

As she strode briskly out of the area, she felt Petra’s inquisitive gaze following her.



*



Entering the conference room, Torran was not surprised to see Legatus Martel sitting at one end of the highly polished white table. A blond woman in a white coat was seated to the right of the Legatus and a dour-looking older man with fortis prime strips -- the highest rank in the security branch of the SWD -- sat on the other side.