Chapter 19 - GIDEON #2
Two stray dogs trotted across the street in front of me, ribs showing, tails wagging anyway. A cat watched from the skeleton of a third-floor window, green eyes bright above the crumbled ledge.
This city refused to die. And so did everything in it. Including me.
I was halfway back to McNair when Carter fell in beside me.
"Lot of packages you got there, Griff," he drawled, nodding to the bag under my arm. "Christmas come early?"
I rolled my eyes. "Got something for the kids."
"Ah."
His smirk flickered. "You spend an awful lot of time with that girl and her… brood."
My jaw tightened. "They're good kids."
"Sure," Carter said. "But you know how this goes. A German girl smiles at you, acts helpless, tells you she needs you—"
I stopped walking and felt the cold wash over me. "Careful," I warned.
He either didn't notice or he didn't care.
"I'm just saying," he continued, shrugging. "These girls know Americans'll marry 'em if they play the part right. Ticket out of the rubble. I've seen guys get trapped. Pregnancies. Blackmail. Oh, Lieutenant, I can't possibly survive without you—"
The dragon slammed against my ribs so hard I saw gold flash in the corners of my vision. I stepped closer, my tone a warning snarl, "Don't."
My voice sounded strange, low and dangerous.
I watched Carter's smile die, "Griff, I'm trying to help you—"
"No," I growled. "You're trying to poison something good because you don't understand it."
His head moved slowly from side to side, a look of incredulity flitting over his features, "You actually thinking of marrying her?"
I nodded once. I didn't owe him an explanation; he wasn't a friend. My only friend in this place died a few hundred feet above Berlin, years ago. Normal humans weren't my friends. Still, in an effort to keep it civil, I said, "Yeah. I am."
Carter stared at me like I'd confessed murder. "Jesus, man," he breathed. "You're serious."
I walked away. I didn't trust myself to stay.
I'd barely turned the next corner when a figure stepped out of an alleyway. The man in the gray suit. The CIA agent. He smiled like a wolf. Little did he know that my dragon would swallow him whole if he stood in my way. "Captain Griffin. Been looking for you."
A chill moved down my spine. "I'm off-duty."
"But your other half," he said quietly, "never is."
That froze me. He couldn't possibly know.
"What are you talking about?" I said carefully.
He stepped into my space, voice soft but razor-sharp. "The dragon, Captain. The one you're barely keeping leashed."
Said dragon tried its hardest to come through my chest and devour the man threatening us. Heat rippled under my skin. I scanned the street, empty except for dust and a distant jackhammer.
"You're out of your damn mind," I snarled.
He smirked. He stepped closer—too close—and lowered his voice. "You think we don't know what you are, Captain?"
My spine went rigid. "Back. Off."
His smile cut like a knife. "Saxony. April '45. Ring any bells?"
Ice slid down my ribs. "Don't," I warned, not liking the images creeping up inside me.
"Two German fighter aces filed identical reports about an American plane."
He tapped his temple. "Your plane."
My breath locked.
"They swore—swore under oath—you leaned out your cockpit window and spewed fire at the Messerschmitt that shot your friend down."
My heart slammed against my ribs hard enough to bruise. I fought the urge to close my eyes. I could almost smell the smoke from Mark's plane as it spiraled down. Down, down, down. The cockpit was in flames; he never had a chance to get out.
"Funny thing?" the CIA man went on. "Your crew chief filed something similar. Said he saw your cockpit glow like a furnace. Said the heat coming off you warped metal."
"That's bullshit," I snapped, but I was sure my eyes flared.
He studied me with a predator's patience. "Is it?"
A pulse of heat shot up my throat, unwelcome, instinctive.
I swallowed it hard. "Those were combat hallucinations," I ground out. "Fog of war. Grief. People saw what they wanted to see."
He shook his head slowly. "No, Captain. People saw what they feared they saw."
My hands curled into fists.
"Mark Avery died that day," he said softly. "You think we don't know how close you were? You think we don't track anomalies when soldiers snap?"
I stepped forward, barely keeping the dragon under my skin.
"Say his name again," I growled, "and see what happens."
The man didn't flinch. Not even a blink. "We don't need you to admit anything," he murmured. "We already have the reports. All we need… is your cooperation."
"What do you want?" I ground out.
"Oh, yes." He flashed teeth. "We want you to work for us. Quietly. Covertly. You could walk into the Soviet sector like a ghost. Fly over it. Burn the truth out of the sky."
"No," I said instantly.
"You want to marry that girl." His smile sharpened. "I can help with that."
My blood went cold. "You stay away from her."
He raised his hands. "Hey, now. I'm offering a trade. You give us intelligence on Soviet positions, on troop movements, on who's defecting. And in exchange…" He tapped his temple. "We keep your secret. And your girl gets every form she needs approved… or I can delay it indefinitely."
The dragon roared inside me. Hot, blistering, violent. I clenched my fists so hard my nails nearly cut skin.
"If you ever show up near her," I kept my voice low and restrained the fire that wanted to torch this bastard, "I will end you."
"That's what I'm counting on," he whispered. "Your instincts. Your… abilities." He put his hand on my shoulder. "You need us, Captain. And we need you."
"No," I repeated, shaking him off. "For your sake, walk away."
For a heartbeat, we stood there, the dragon inside me snarling, the CIA man's ambition cracking like ice, Berlin trembling beneath our feet from another bomb some unfortunate soul had stepped on.
He stepped back first. "Sooner or later," he said, "you'll realize we're on the same side."
He turned and disappeared into the alley.
I knew one thing for certain: if he came close to Inga, I would turn him into a pile of ash. No matter what oath I had sworn on my final initiation. I tightened my grip on the ring box in my pocket. I'd buy her safety myself if I had to.
I'd take her and the kids out of this city with my own two hands.
And if anyone tried to stop me—
the dragon would not be held back.