Page 21 of The Inheritance (Breach Wars #1)

E lias studied London from across the conference table.

The man was lean, in good shape, with an expensive haircut and the kind of face most people would describe as attractive.

He seemed ten years younger than his forty-five, and the way he sat, although not overtly confrontational, signaled that he was neither nervous nor afraid.

He saw London differently now. What he’d previously mistaken for confidence was instead an ever-present air of polite entitlement.

Even now, when most guild members would be sweating bullets in his position, London held himself as if this was a meeting of equals.

He wasn’t impatient – that would’ve been impolite and London was never impolite.

Rather he managed to make it clear that he considered this entire process a formality, a series of tedious procedural steps, at the end of which he would be released with all his troubles swept under the rug and forgotten.

On paper, he and London were not dissimilar. Both blade wardens, both in their mid to late forties, both with nearly a decade of gate diving. At one point, years ago, the gap between their abilities had been much shorter.

Elias had grown in power every year. Ten years after his awakening, he was stronger, faster, and more experienced than when he had started.

He learned to imbue his blade, so his weapons cut through solid steel and stone.

His shield lasted a full five seconds longer now than it had when he’d walked into his first gate, and each second was hard won through grueling training and life and death battles.

London hadn’t progressed at nearly the same pace.

It might have been the limitations of their inborn abilities, but Elias had come to suspect that it was a limitation of will.

London was happy in his current position within the guild.

He was well compensated for taking a relatively low-risk role, he had no immediate supervisor breathing down his neck, and he rarely spent a night in the breach.

Elias could see the appeal. But he also knew that he, himself, would never be satisfied with just that.

He'd thought about it while rereading London’s file.

Alexander Wright came from an upper middle-class family, had gone to a boarding school, followed that with Cambridge, and ended up with a job in finance.

Affluent, comfortable, respectable, just as expected.

Unfortunately for Wright, the market collapse following the first gates’ bursting bankrupted the firm he’d worked for and wiped out his personal wealth.

He was forced to pivot. This struggle was short-lived, since he’d conveniently awakened to his talent.

Six months later he was in the US, making a name for himself as London, moving from smaller guilds to more prominent ones, until a Cold Chaos recruiter scouted him six years ago.

That seemed to be a trend with London. He led a charmed existence. It wasn’t that he didn’t experience adversity, it was that when a crisis occurred, another opportunity always presented itself. He was expected to do well and always land on his feet and had no doubt he would.

Elias had been in a state of crisis from the moment the gates opened. It never stopped. No exit ramp ever appeared, and if it had, he wasn’t sure he would’ve taken it.

His grandfather was a carpenter who got drafted during WWII and served with honor.

His father enlisted in the Navy to escape Vietnam, because he knew he would eventually be drafted.

He ended up going career, retiring twenty years later, and picking up a civilian contractor job at the Department of Defense.

Elias himself had gone to the Virginia Military Institute, and his big rebellion consisted of accepting a commission in the Army instead of the Navy, partially to spite his dad.

He was the first college graduate and the first officer in four generations of McFerons.

To him, striving for advancement was a given.

You always wanted to be better, to do more, to get that next rank, to excel, and to make a difference.

No matter where life took them, London would always slightly look down on him.

The condescension of classism was so casual, London himself likely barely registered it.

Normally Elias didn’t give a fuck what London – or anyone else – thought of him, but right now he needed to remind the escort captain of their respective roles.

This wasn’t a business meeting. London wasn’t doing him a favor.

He was called out on the carpet and had to account for his actions.

The man was entirely too comfortable, and when people felt that comfortable, lying was effortless.

He needed to deliver a powerful, precise punch and knock London off balance, or he would never get to the bottom of this mess.

Elias leveled a heavy stare at London. “Is this another Lansing? If it is, you need to tell me now.”

London went pale.

That’s right. Remember how you landed in your current spot. Remember why you’re no longer the assault leader.

London leaned back in his chair, his expression indignant. “How much longer? How many times do I have to prove myself? Will you ever let it go? What do I have to do?”

Too easy. “Not losing an entire escort team and most of the miners would be a good start.”

The words hung between them.

The door swung open. Leo entered the room and sat on Elias’ left. They had coordinated this prior to the interview.

“That’s unfair,” London said. “Nobody could have stopped that. You couldn’t have stopped that.”

“I would’ve tried.”

“And you would be dead.”

Elias pointed to the survey of the mining site printed on a large posterboard. Staying at the library had its perks. “Walk me through it.”

London glanced at Leo. “I already spoke to the Vice-Guildmaster.”

“And now you’re speaking to me.” Elias paused to let the weight of his words sink in.

The escort captain shifted his body to the side, leaning to his left in the chair, and crossed his arms. If they were standing in the breach instead of sitting in the office, London’s shield would be up.

Elias leaned forward, taking up more of London’s view, communicating that the table between them wasn’t much of a barrier. His speech was unhurried.

“You know what’s so easy about telling the truth? It’s always the same. You don’t have to think, you don’t have to keep track of it. It never changes. Start with the moment you entered the gate. You were four minutes behind schedule. Why?”

London sighed. “Ms. Moore had an emergency phone call regarding her daughter. I judged it to be in the best interest of the guild to allow her to resolve that situation before we went in. That way she could be more fully focused on the assessing.”

“What happened next?” Elias pressed.

“We entered the breach and proceeded to the mining site.” London pointed to the survey. “We walked for approximately twelve minutes. The transit was uneventful. Seven minutes in we encountered a group of deceased hostiles, which we identified as a variant of Calloway’s stalkers…”

The story was largely the same as the notes Elias had read: they got to the site, started mining, then five hostiles emerged from the tunnels and slaughtered everyone.

According to London, he saved whom he could by collapsing the entrance.

This time though, he mentioned the gold in addition to the adamantite.

“You omitted the discovery of the gold in your original interview. Why?”

“It was not relevant. I was focused on conveying the nature of the threat.”

“Fifteen people died or are presumed dead,” Elias said. “Everything is relevant.”

“I know,” the exasperation was clear in London’s voice. “I can count.”

He wasn’t completely lying, Elias reflected. His physical responses when recounting the attack matched those of someone who lived through a near death experience. Whatever happened scared the hell out of London, and that was precisely the problem.

Leo sat slightly straighter. Elias kept his gaze on London. No, not yet.

“In your opinion, was the mining site secure?”

London unlocked his teeth. “No.”

“What steps would you have taken to make the mining site secure?”

“I would have collapsed the north access tunnels.”

Elias glanced at Leo. Now.

“Did you review the survey with Assault Team Leader Malcolm?” Leo asked.

“I did. You have a record of that meeting.”

“Did Malcolm specify how he selected the mining site?” Elias asked.

“Again, you have the record of the meeting. He selected the site based on the visible mineral deposits of malachite and copper-bearing ores in the walls, the size and relative stability of the cavern, and the proximity to the gate.”

“Were you aware of the risks the tunnels posed?” Leo asked.

“Yes.”

“Did you raise those concerns with Malcolm?” Elias asked.

“I did.”

“What rationale did Malcolm give you for leaving the tunnels intact?” Leo asked.

“He thought he might require an alternate route to the anchor.”

“Why not just collapse the tunnels and dig through if needed?” Elias asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Why didn’t you collapse the tunnels after getting to the site?” Leo asked.

London stared at him for a second. “Because it isn’t my call.” He bit the words off.

“The security of the mining site is your call. You are responsible for the safety of the escorts and the miners,” Elias countered. “Do you understand the scope of your duties, Escort Captain Wright?”

London glared at him. Angry red blotches colored his face.

“Malcolm wanted to keep the tunnels open. I brought up the possible risk. Malcolm reiterated his desire to keep the tunnels open. The survey showed no predators larger than the stalkers, and my team was well equipped to handle the stalkers. I requested a secondary sweep of a half mile from the entrance to the tunnels. The scout confirmed the sweep was done. You are not going to hang this on me. Malcolm fucked up. Malcolm is dead.”