Blink: Interdiction (Book 4)

27

Why, why, why had he listened?

Darien stood outside the infirmary's intensive care unit on the Karpa Luna base, leaning against the wall with his eyes boring through the reinforced glass as he ran over the engagement in his head over, and over, and over. His first plan should have been the one they'd followed. It would have been safer, avoiding full frontal conflict all together.

But no. He'd allowed Vass and the others to get into his head, make him doubt himself; make him believe that in that moment perhaps he didn't know best. In that brief window of foolish concession he'd allowed Vass's desperation for combat and recognition to guide their decisions rather than tactical good sense.

Now he could do nothing but watch helplessly as the results of that choice unfolded before him. They'd at least retaken the asteroid cracker when Merlynn's dragoons had thundered through the main entrance held by the Blink operatives, smashing the rebel resistance in a lightning assault. In cold numbers, the plan had worked, avoiding a protracted siege and an all out assault into the teeth of the installation's defences.

But the casualties there had been cut Darien to the bone.

Two operatives had been killed outright: Chayze from Tunda – a girl who'd braved the depths of Marianas with them what felt like an age ago – and a male operative named Armak from Panther Squad. Numerous others had been badly injured in the shoot out at the cannon's entrance. Within the infirmary he could see Idas sitting at the bedside of the straw-haired girl – an operative named Lilja – with any pretence of secrecy now abandoned as he held her hand. He could see their lips moving, the girl speaking through obvious pain, her torso swathed in thick bandages. A chuckle; a wince.

He sighed, pressing a clenched fist against his mouth, cupping his elbow with the other hand as he let his gaze wander. Other operatives from Tundra and Panther sported a range of injuries after engaging in an all out firefight with the bulk of the cannon's defensive force. Most of them would be out of action for days or more.

One of the wounded was missing, however.

Concealed within the emergency trauma wing of the Karpa Luna military base, the best medics Merlynn had were fighting to save Vass Juntaar's life. Tundra's leader had been caught in the blast of a home-made shrapnel grenade at close range, and the Blink issue body armour could only stop so much. Without it he would have been killed instantly. With it he was clinging to life, his body torn up by the metal shards with internal bleeding and catastrophic organ damage.

Darien wasn't a doctor, but he didn't need to be to know the prognosis was grim.

At the sound of footsteps he looked to his left and saw Bandle limping towards him, Panther's squad leader having escaped the mayhem relatively unscathed. The dark skin of the boy's face was taut, his muscles clenched with pain as he laboured his way down the passage. A bulky brace encircled his left leg and Darien could see the remnant of a series blood scrapes on his cheek. He trudged to a halt at the window, looking in. Bandle's shoulders tensed.

"Are you alright?" Darien asked quietly.

"Do I look alright?" The other operative shook his head bitterly. "I've never lost an operative before."

"I have. I know how it hurts."

Bandle snorted. "That supposed to make me feel better?"

"Only time does that."

"Terrific."

"I'm sorry for what happened."

"Yeah." Bandle leaned his forehead against the glass for a moment. "So am I."