Hellsky (Hunter-Killer #3)

Chapter 33 - The Devil's Helping Hands

Lanto paced back and forth on one of the Nautilus's viewing decks, looking out over the underground cavern, listening to the hum of voices that filled this museum. The air smelled different down here deep beneath Rubicon, a minerally, damp kind of scent alien to anything on the surface. It felt cool, a temperate place compared the sun-blasted deserts most people on Rychter were used to.

He breathed deep, in and out, relishing a small moment to himself. The army was well on its way now, advancing inexorably towards Brekka, collecting troops from every city it passed along the way. The war was truly back on now. His head was a whirl of ifs, buts and maybes as he played over the events that had led them here again.

Footsteps pulled him out of those bleak thoughts. Lanto looked back over his shoulder and a jolt of irritation shot through him when he saw Lieutenant Almar walking towards him. He was alone, his guards presumably keeping a weather eye on Thaniakas and the remaining skeleton team of archivists.

That was all that Lanto had left. Half a dozen men and women and three chaperones.

"I came out here to be alone," he grunted, turning his gaze back to the cavern vista.

"I know, sir."

"Then what are you doing here?"

"I need to speak with you."

Lanto's jaw tightened. "Do you indeed?"

"Yes. It's important."

"Isn't everything these days?" Reluctantly, Lanto turned from the view, his stare boring into Almar's eyes. "I'll speak with you later."

"This can't really wait."

"I'll decide what can wait," Lanto snarled, and he started walking, making a beeline for the access door to the Nautilus.

Almar's face fell. "Minister Numitor, please. It's about my father."

"I've had just about enough of your father to last me a lifetime." He strode past without sparing the other man a glance. "Whatever it is can wait. There's nothing Minister Nastassos can do that he hasn't already. He got what he wanted. We're a world at war once again. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to speak to Archivist Thaniakas to discuss our options."

Lanto stalked off, his skin prickling with annoyance. He reached the open hatchway, and got one foot over the threshold.

"Minister," Almar yelled. "You're not listening to me!"

That taut, almost shrill yelp from the mouth of the burly soldier made Lanto stop in his tracks. Something in Almar's tone cut through his instinctive mistrust of the man, something desperate; something scared. He glanced back and his eyes narrowed as he appraised his chaperone curiously. He stepped back over the threshold and turned around to face Almar.

Wide eyes looked back at him. Something was wrong.

"Alright, Lieutenant," he said after a moment. "I'm listening now."

He looked like was about to deflate. His broad shoulders sagged with relief and he beckoned Lanto away from the hatch.

"It'd be better if we spoke out here."

Lanto eased the hatch shut behind him and walked slowly over to stand in front of Almar. "Talk, Lieutenant. What in the Everflowing's gotten into you?"

"I just... I didn't know who else to tell."

"Tell what?"

"I was at the Commissariat Chambers last night making my..." He winced, giving Lanto an apologetic glance. "Making my report. To my father. I was early but I went up to his office anyway."