CHAPTER 51
Luna
What it is, is a fucking space ship!
Screens. So many screens, everywhere. There are no passenger seats, not even couches like the private jets I’m used to. Desks, buttons, and people, I can see at least four, three guys, one girl, wearing headsets and doing…stuff. Moving satellites, shooting missiles? Fuck if I know.
“Impressive, isn’t it?”
“I’ll say,” I mumble, still a little too shocked to think straight.
“In your father’s operation you saw patterns, sequences. You moved pieces around on the board to benefit the Mancini objectives. Here, you’ll do the same. It’s just a much bigger board.
“I’ll fucking say!” I’m not murmuring anymore.
Allie chuckles, “I know it can be overwhelming but we’ll start simple.
We’ll need to write an opp to stage your death, of course.
I also want you zeroed in on your father’s properties, the routes you already know.
Since we’re here, we’ll oversee Quinn’s retaliatory attack against Volotov. ” I nod absently. Trying to keep up.
“So, where’s my desk?” I joke.
“They’re all your desks. Everyone,” she says.
The workers at the desks stand. “Zaya!” Allie calls that name louder.
A female pilot and her young, male copilot emerge from the cockpit.
Everyone looks different, every race and body type is represented.
But they all look…the same? Military. They all look like soldiers.
I see now that they’re all in similar clothes, too, though not a decipherable uniform.
“This is your new commander, Luna Mancini. I’ll be getting her settled in for the next 48 hours.
We’ll come do introductions at each station, give her the technical rundown and broad strokes of your positions and current projects.
We have the Quinn counterattack which Luna and I will co-lead, then she’ll lead you down South.
” Everyone is just watching, frozen. Waiting, I realize, until she says, “Dismissed.”
Immediately they go back to working.
“You can give them your own welcome soon,” she says casually. I glance out one of the windows that’s not covered in state of the art technology. It’s getting dark out.
“So, they live here?”
“Ah, yes, let me show you.” She walks me through the open workspace, loosely explaining what each station is for, audio surveillance, vehicle tracking, satellites, internet monitoring, internet hacking and building, AI interface, research, weaponry.
After the desks, we reach the armory. I manage to be surprised all over again at the unimaginable display of weapons, vests, parachutes, gas masks. Past that is a row of bunks and then past that there’s a kind of rec room. I swear this plane goes on for forever.
“Would you like to see the vehicles?” She asks.
“The what?”
“Underneath, we have a couple Hummers, motorcycles, a jeep, I believe.”
“Uh,” I cannot even think right now.
“Later,” she waves off the idea and resumes her tour, “So, you see the crew has their quarters, lounge, workspaces. Crew do take time off occasionally, usually when forced.”
“Forced?” I squeak.
“Everyone on this plane is a Van or a Marco. They’re passionate about their jobs.
Don’t have other family or friends outside of our organization.
They’re very good, very detailed, very driven—to the point of exhaustion, so, yes,” she starts us back in the other direction, “You as their leader will have to force them to take leave when necessary.”
I swallow, “Right, okay. And which bunk is m—”
“Oh, heavens darling, no, come,” she laughs at herself and pauses suddenly to go into one of the little galleys and starts up a narrow staircase. While in the staircase, we pause when the plane takes off. I guess we’re on the move? This is so weird.
After the rumble of the runway is gone, she keeps climbing. I follow. At the top is a door that leads into a similar galley. But through the galley is…
“Here, Luna. You’ll live here.”
“Oh,” I say.
Marlon barks when he spots his own area—a little square of turf and food, water bowls and a tiny dog bed, clearly prepared just for him—in what is one of the nicest open-concept apartments I’ve ever seen.
No one would believe we’re standing in the top half of a big ass military plane.
Huge windows, bright and white and modern but also cozy somehow.
Throw pillows, fuzzy carpet, fucking table lamps?
“This is insane,” I think out loud.
“Of course it can be redecorated for you,” she circles around in the middle of the sunken living room that features a giant tv framed by floating shelves. She touches one of the books on the shelves and it hits me.
“Oh, wait, where will you and O go, you’re not, I’m not—”
She laughs again, “we have our own, of course. Plane, that is.”
All the air leaks out of my lungs and says, “there are four in total. But that’s not our entire fleet.” She looks outside thoughtfully, “As you’ll soon learn, any and every plane in the world can be part of our fleet if need be.”
I shake my head. Then wince.
“Right. You need to rest. You have a butler, Gordon. He’ll bring you an early dinner and then in the morning we’ll need to assist Robbie with action items for Quinn’s attack.
Have you met Robbie?” I shake my head, her expression softens mores than I’ve ever seen when she explains, “He’s my youngest son.
You’ll love him. Smart, like you.” She starts to leave, “Until tomorrow.”
“Wait,” I call involuntarily, “Wait, I haven’t officially agreed to just…enlist, I guess.” She waits, not fazed at all by my hesitation. “I’ll have demands if I’m going to join. Ellie vouched for me and Mia, well, I want Zeno out. And if we can, Vix.”
“Vix is nearly impossible,” she says.
“But Zeno isn’t?”
She shrugs, “He’s your blood. If I haven’t made it clear, we need you, Luna.”
A thrill runs through me at that, but I school my face and say, “I…I have questions.”
She steps back into the living area, a knowing smile on her face. “About one million of them, yes?”
“Uh, yeah, you could say that,” I say, probably a little too heavy on the sarcasm.
“Go ahead, but you do need to rest. We have a few days for orientation.”
“First, why cave? I gesture around, “This is literally the opposite of a cave.”
She nods and sits on the sofa armrest, “The cave was the first iteration of our headquarters. It still exists. Robbie lives there. That’s where we raised the boys, grew our infrastructure and made connections.
But the training grounds, the academy we had, the bunkhouses and everything Van grew up with sits empty now. Used for storage.”
“Why?”
“Our needs changed, times changed. And Owen—though he’ll never admit it, and you didn’t hear it from me—does actually age. He grew tired, couldn’t keep training the young recruits.”
“Huh. And cave, that’s the name of…us?”
She shakes her head, “No. More like, a creed.”
“Okay?” I drag the word out but she doesn’t explain.
“Goodnight, Lu,” she pushes up to stand. “I think Lu suits you. L-o-u. You’ll need a new name, of course. But Lou can be short for Louise, Louellen. Owen suggested Lucius, could go by Lucy for short.”
I recoil, “That’s a man’s name.”
“That’s what I told him you’d say. Think about it and let me know in the morning, yes? You can’t be Luna anymore,” with that, she says goodnight and leaves.
“Shit,” I whisper, “Should’ve read the fine print, I guess, huh?” I ask Marlon. But he’s already asleep. “Really, a few treats and new digs is all it takes? Weak, Marlon.”
I can’t stay mad at him though. His bed looks warm and fluffy and is just his size. I walk around the sunken living room to the bedroom at the back. The bed is giant and looks as lovely as my dog’s. I yawn and stretch and then curse.
As if summoned by my pain, a little old man hobbles into the apartment. I walk back to the kitchen area where Allie and I entered and see a stooped pale old man in a suit with a tray.
“Your medicine, miss, and your dinner,” he says.
“Gordon?”
“Indeed,” his British accent is thick and I swear he could be Michael Cane from the same Batman movie that had Morgan Freeman in it.
“I’m Luna, nice to meet you.”
He smiles politely, “Not anymore, I’m afraid. You’ll be needing a new name, now.”
“Oh. Right. I guess this isn’t your first rodeo with a newbie?”
“Hardly,” he says as he starts to empty everything from his rolling cart out onto the dining nook table. “I was there when Command chose their new names for themselves.”
“Owen and Allie?”
“That’s how you know them, yes.”
I study the man. “So do you know what the hell Cave means?”
“I do. And you will too. In time.”
I groan. “C’mon Gordon. Throw me a bone, here.”
“How about a nice salmon filet, instead?” He says as he takes the lid off of my steaming and delicious-smelling dinner. My mouth starts to water.
I appease him, going to sit at the table, “Do…do you know Van?”
“Sullivan. The most tender-hearted of the boys.”
“The boys? Marco and Van and how many others?”
Gordon grabs his cart, clearly about to leave.
He does answer though, with a sad look in his eyes, “Many.” He starts to pull the cart and pauses, “Oh, nearly forgot. Command told me to give you this. Think of it as your brain, heartbeat, weapon and shield in one. It is sacred. Do not lose it, do not break it.”
I brace myself, holding my breath for some newfangled spy tech that I can’t even begin to comprehend. But he pulls out an iPad.
“Geez, Gordon, dramatic much?”
“Let an old man have his fun,” he smiles.
“And I was only exaggerating a bit. Enjoy,” he says before leaving.
I don’t know if he meant the food or the iPad but I’ll definitely enjoy the latter.
It’s everything Van had in his underground bunker.
It’s a shared drive for everyone, I guess.
Mark must have this same system in his basement and I’d guess I can access the screens in the plane below me from here too.
The main screen is simply a search bar, and as I start typing it auto-populates anything and everything to do with any syndicate, government, country, even important individuals.
Damn.
This is like having the universe in my palm.
Where to start?
I begin with CAVE and start tapping and scrolling, fully intending to dig into all the Mancini files.
Instead, I land on the folder marked, Quinn, S.
“Well we do have an attack to organize for him tomorrow, right?” I ask my dog. “Time to get to work.”