Deathwatch (The Faded Earth Book 1)(44)
Knowing that the possibility of reclaiming something of what was lost was so close was like a starving man having a steak dangled right in front of his face.
It was with these thoughts weighing heavily on his mind that Eshton traveled home, though he didn’t find sleep there.
“Brogan,” Stein barked as soon as he stepped out of the Loop station and into the chapterhouse. “I’ve been looking for you. Come on up to my office.”
They were alone, but there was always a possibility someone listened. With a sigh, Eshton followed her away from his small but cozy quarters, metal boots scraping perhaps a bit more forcefully than usual.
When they were alone and secure, Stein turned to face him, half-sitting on her desk with arms crossed over her breasts. “Where the fuck were you?”
“Speaking with our new recruit on the old man’s orders,” Eshton said. “I had to leave straight from my shift.” He didn’t say what shift—an overabundance of caution was simply in his nature—but Stein knew perfectly well he was talking about Novak. “I couldn’t tell you, obviously. It was last minute.”
Stein grimaced. “That’s why I needed to see you. Reclamation sent me a notice while you were out. It has to do with Beck, at least tangentially. There’s a problem.”
Eshton scratched his cheek with a gauntleted hand, confused. “Why? Wait, what? How are scouts and salvage runners a problem for Beck? She’s never even been outside the walls except with us, and even now she’s at Acuet.”
In response, Stein handed over a secure tablet with several photos and a video loaded onto its screen. “That’s her pal Fisher. You’ll notice he’s outside the wall. I don’t have to tell you that’s a serious crime without permission from the local Warden. Worse, though, are the people he’s with. Play the video.”
Eshton did. The recording itself was taken from a distance and was mundane in content—just Fisher speaking with a trio of people—but the fact that he spoke with them was supremely bad for him.
Eshton looked up at Stein. “These people are Remnants?”
Stein nodded. “I don’t know how he got out, how he knows them, or why he’s meeting with them, but this is now in Enforcement’s hands. I’m passing it to you. Reclamation doesn’t just haul salvage, you know. They’re our eyes and ears out there. They’re supposed to make sure no exiles or Remnants communicate with our people. We’re the ones who make sure the reverse doesn’t happen. Fisher needs to be dealt with.”
“No,” Eshton said. “I’m not killing Beck’s only friend. They’re closer than you’d expect for knowing each other for such a short time. She’s already lost enough.”
If Stein was at all surprised by the insubordination, she didn’t show it. Instead the older woman gave him a tired nod. “Reclamation won’t say anything if they don’t see him out there again, I don’t think. And if they do, I can tell them he’s our agent. But it’s going to be on you to convince this guy he can’t risk this shit again. I don’t personally have anything against folks who live outside the wall aside from the traitors among the exiles, but we can’t have this kind of thing. Violations like this draw attention. Find out the details here, and rein Fisher in.” She paused in thought. “It might not be a bad idea to feel out the Remnants to see whether they might provide sanctuary. Convince Fisher to set up a meeting.”
“Sanctuary?” Eshton asked incredulously. “For us? I doubt it.”
Stein shook her head. “No, not for us. We might need to move Novak at a moment’s notice and put him somewhere no one would think to look. Have Fisher facilitate that meeting, then impress upon him how important it is he never has another one with his Remnant friends.”
She put her hands down and gripped the edge of the desk before leaning in slightly. Despite the fact that he was fully armored minus his helmet and she wore only her simple black uniform, Eshton felt a little thrill of fear dance up his spine.
“You make him understand, or I will, Brogan,” Stein said. “That’s a promise.”
21
There are few skills that can be mastered in six weeks, and fighting is not one of them. Four hours a day of nonstop training will make nearly anyone at least a journeyman, however. By the time Beck and her team reach the three-quarters mark, they were barely recognizable as the people they had once been.
In truth, they barely were those people. Take any person whose life has been relatively uneventful, free of regular upheaval or major events, give them one enormous shift in circumstances, and the change that comes over them will alter who they are on fundamental levels. Everyone on the team recognized the primary goal of Deathwatch training was to create this change and accelerate it to unnatural levels.
Beck stood with her unit, every member now carrying scars and fresh wounds accumulated since that first day in the arena, as they waited for their final cycle of training to commence.
Looking at them, she was still amazed at how far they had come since being put together as a team. It was a testament to the effectiveness of the program that, while none of them had the skills or instincts that years of experience would instill, their very body language had shifted with the lessons now written into their muscles and bones. She had been there for it, experienced it herself and was perfectly aware of the process, but still found herself staggered by their growth.