Page 55 of Concluded (The Bureau #13)

Achilles breathed a little easier knowing that the chief was still alive and well. “What does he want us to do?”

Abe gave him a steady look. “He believes in your plan. He will contact as many remaining agents as possible, and we’ll meet at HQ.”

The chief believed in him. So did everyone currently in the room, including Dee, who squeezed Achilles’ hand. And if they could believe, then Achilles could damn well believe in himself.

“Let’s do this,” he said.

Without any need for discussion, Abe ordered a small fleet of Lyfts.

* * *

From the parking lot, HQ looked dark and a little sinister. Haunted, even. There wasn’t any sign of life, which Achilles reminded himself was a good thing. He didn’t know what they’d have done if it were occupied—especially if it were occupied by the enemy.

“Do you suppose they have this place under surveillance?” Mazur asked as they made their way en masse to the front door. Dee was shuffling along, slowly but on his own power. John, looking apprehensive, was supported by Kurt and Des.

“Maybe,” Kurt replied. “But they’d have a hell of a time getting in. It’s like a fortress.”

That may have been true, but Abe got them through the big front doors with no problem. He was good with locks, and Charles had given him instructions.

Every sound they made echoed in the vast lobby, where the lights burned dimly over empty acres of white marble.

Achilles felt an odd stab in the chest when he glanced at the vacant reception desk.

He’d passed through here hundreds of times—thousands, maybe—and that desk had always been staffed by somebody, no matter what day or time.

Sometimes it was a new recruit, and other times it was a more seasoned agent temporarily sidelined by an injury.

He’d manned it himself a few times while recovering.

Nobody liked working the desk, but although it was boring, it was also a good place to share gossip. Now, it sat abandoned.

John spoke quietly. “This… this is not where I was held.” He looked around in confusion and maybe a little relief.

“HQ used to be downtown,” Abe explained. “We moved here in the fifties.”

“Does this place have cells too?”

“Yes,” said Des. “And we’ve an entire prison in Nevada. We did, anyway. I was kept there for seventeen years.”

John visibly squared his shoulders. “All right.”

By this point, Dee had simply lain down on the hard floor, one arm pillowing his head.

Achilles had already decided that the lobby was the best place to assemble, so he sent some people off to the gym in search of mats to soften the surfaces for Dee and John, and others to the armory to load up on whatever weapons they could find.

A few agents did a quick recon of the entire building, just to make sure it was empty.

Just as everyone was reassembling, more people began to arrive.

Tenrael and Ralph entered first, since they could fly.

Achilles wished he’d been able to glimpse a demon and dragon swooping through the LA sky; that would have been a memorable sight indeed.

Next came Dash and Henry, who lived nearby and had apparently been hiding out for weeks.

“More are on the way,” Tenrael informed them. “Can we wait a bit longer?”

Achilles shrugged. “I hope so.”

It had been late afternoon when HQ was reclaimed.

Agents trickled in all evening and well into the night, some of them young, some with years of experience, and some retired.

They were a variety of species. A few small groups ventured out for food, for additional clothing for the ten people who’d been in the black hole, and for cots and blankets.

The lobby, for so long hushed and mostly vacant, swirled with activity, conversations, colors, and scents.

“It’s like a party,” said Achilles, who was sitting beside John and watching it all with wonder. Dee slept on despite the commotion.

John, although gaunt, had visibly filled out a little and was somewhat livelier. “All these people care. They’re willing to risk their lives for what’s right.”

“You know, after talking to Abe, death doesn’t bother me so much. I mean, I’d rather live, thanks very much, but…. I guess what’s even more important is knowing I did everything I could to keep the balance from tipping too far.”

Marek and Clay arrived shortly before dawn, fangs gleaming, and Jerry and Art showed up not long after. They both looked incongruously wild in the stark setting of the lobby, and Jerry scowled at the white walls. But they were eager to help and embraced Achilles like old friends.

Achilles got only a couple hours of fitful sleep in the morning but woke up feeling oddly refreshed.

Maybe because he’d spent those hours spooning Dee, which was something he’d never expected to do again.

Con and Isaac had arrived while he was asleep, and Owen and Keaton walked in the door just as Achilles finished breakfast. Terry and Edge were there too, and gods, Achilles hadn’t seen them since he was brand-new to the Bureau.

Terry remained handsome in his early seventies, like an aging movie star, and Edge was still fairly muscular and quietly intimidating.

Kyle the nurse was there and gave Achilles a cheery wave.

Diana Afolabi was deep in conversation with Con and Desmond.

Even Agent Holmes had showed up, sitting in his wheelchair, looking terrifying.

“Quite a crowd,” remarked Dee. He was sitting up now and had managed to eat a little, but he still had dark circles under his eyes.

Well, a crowd was relative. There were about forty of them now, and that was plenty to fill the lobby. It didn’t make for a very big army, however. Not in comparison to what they were facing. And quite a few of the people in the room were well past their prime.

But Tenrael and Charles had lectured him about this—they’d told him that every person, every act counts.

That sometimes one small thing may be just enough to tip the balance.

History backed this up; Achilles could think of plenty of examples where the actions of a few turned the tide, for better or for worse.

Dee sighed heavily. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“It took so long to get you out of there. And I didn’t really dig up much useful info.”

Achilles blinked at him. “Dee. You pulled ten people out of a fucking interdimensional liminal space. You did this. Plus, now we at least know something about the enemy. Because of you.” If Achilles had managed to believe in himself, Dee could damned well do the same.

Dee smiled a little. “Okay. I learned some stuff about djinns too. Irina and I are the last ones.”

“Jesus, Dee. I’m sorry.”

“It’s weird to lose a heritage that I didn’t even realize existed until a short time ago. I’m not sure how I feel about it.”

“Well, if we survive, we can both get therapy. Maybe they’ll give us a two-for-one discount.”

“Yeah. We can start with my mommy issues. She did this, Achilles.” He gestured around the room at large. “She gave me a wish so I could join you in the black hole. God knows what Spurling did to her, but she did this. And I don’t know why.”

Achilles, who’d been wondering how Dee got there, shook his head. “Maybe because she loves you.”

“She’s had a damned funny way of showing it.”

“A lot of us do.” Achilles thought about his own family for a moment before repeating himself. “A lot of us do. Hey, can you excuse me for a few?”

Dee yawned and lay back down. “No problem.”

There was a corridor that led from the lobby to the cafeteria and atrium, its long walls lined with photos of agents who’d been killed in the line of duty.

There was Santiago Bautista with a cocky smile, looking much younger than when he’d died.

Achilles smiled back, then pulled out his phone and dialed a number from memory.

He hoped it hadn’t changed over the decades.

“Hello?” The woman’s voice was achingly familiar.

Achilles swallowed, almost hung up, and swallowed again. “Lala?” he said. A return to a childhood nickname, crafted by a toddler who couldn’t quite manage to say Atalanta. “It’s Achilles.”

There was a quick intake of breath, but she didn’t hang up. When she spoke, her voice was even. “Are you dying? In prison? Broke?”

“None of the above.” Not actively, anyway. “I just called because…. There’s been sort of a lot going on. I’ve had time to think. And—you don’t have to say anything back, you don’t owe me anything, okay?—but I need to thank you for everything you did for me. And I need to tell you that I love you.”

After a long pause, she spoke again. “I owe you an apology. I was looking for someone to blame, but you were just a kid. It wasn’t your fault. I’m sorry. And I love you too.”

He was crying now. The type of salty, bitter tears that stung like hell, but maybe that meant they were washing away some toxins. “Thank you.”

“Can you…. You have two nephews and a niece. They’d like to meet their Uncle Achilles. Do you have kids?”

“Nope. Gay as a maypole, actually. But I have a… well, a partner.” That was an apt term for how he felt about Dee. “His name is Dee.”

“I’d like to meet him,” she responded without hesitation.

“I’d like that too.” Surprisingly, he meant it. “I’m sort of in the middle of a mess right now. Not my fault, but I’m trying to help clean it up. Can I call you once it’s over?” Assuming, of course, that he was alive to do so.

“Please do, Achilles.”

He ended the call, wiped his eyes dry, and went to rejoin Dee.