Chapter Twenty-Seven
Oddly enough it wasn't the pain that woke him but the motion. A strange rolling hum, vibrating slightly but with the push of velocity. It was familiar but made absolutely no sense to his subconscious. He clawed his way up through the grogginess until the pain finally hit him; a searing, throbbing burn in the vicinity of his left collarbone. A groan broke free of his lips.
Suddenly there was a hand on his good shoulder. "Augs, you awake?" August groaned again as the pain in his head joined up with the pain from his shoulder. "Guys, he's awake. Jesus, you scared us. What the hell were you thinking?"
August frowned, trying to place the voice of the man kneeling beside him. "Con?"
"Yeah buddy, welcome back," Conrad said, his voice relieved and amused. Behind him he could hear the movement of others but his head was swimming too much to focus on them yet. August struggled to sit up and Conrad put an arm around his back, easing him into a sitting position. "Careful, you took a bullet in the shoulder. God, I thought I'd killed you."
"You shot me?" August asked in confusion, trying to scrape up memories through the haze in his head. At the same time he finally placed the sensation that had woken him; he was in a plane.
"Wasn't aiming for you," Conrad said. "I was aiming for the woman that pulled a knife on you."
"A knife?" And then it all came rushing back to him in a blur; the dagger, the sandglass, his uncle, Annie. "Where is she?" August asked immediately.
"Who?" Conrad asked, stopping him as he tried to get up. "What are you on about?"
"Annie," August said, shoving his brother's arm out of the way and forcing himself onto his feet despite the pain in his shoulder. "The priestess. Where is she?"
"She's at the back of the cabin," Conrad said uncertainly, his hands hovering near August's body, ready to catch him if he stumbled. "We're bringing her back to DC with us for questioning."
"And the dagger?" August pressed. "Where's the dagger?"
"The one she pulled on you? I've got it in my bag up front," Conrad said. "Augs, what's going on?"
August swallowed back a wave of nausea as the pain in his shoulder surfaced again. They'd obviously gotten the bullet out but judging by how badly it hurt they hadn't gotten him any painkillers yet. As much as it sucked, he was kind of grateful; he needed his head clear. Gripping Conrad by the shoulder with his only working arm, August squared off with his brother. "Con, I need you to listen to me very carefully. This whole thing was a set-up."
"What's he talking about?" Jai asked from behind Conrad.
"August, perhaps you should lie down. You're not looking well."
August's expression hardened and he felt himself bristle. "Henry."
"Uncle Henry's right," Conrad said, his hand settling on August's chest. "You should at least sit down."
"No, Con, listen," August insisted. "The raid was all a set-up. There are no weapons, they aren't terrorists. It was all for that dagger."
Henry chuckled dryly. "Someone's getting a bit delirious," he said. "The pain must be getting to him. Now that he's awake, we should get him some painkillers. Jai, would you-"
"I'm not delirious," August countered, glaring viciously in his uncle's direction. "Conrad, before we left on this mission, Dad pulled you aside and told you something," he said, grabbing his brother's shoulder more tightly as he swayed on his feet. "He told you that a good leader listens to his council but follows his heart."
"We were alone when he said that," Conrad said in awe. "How could you possibly know that?"
"I'm asking you to do that now," August plowed on, ignoring the question. "Don't think about the facts and the intel, just think about how you feel. And deep down you know there's something off about all of this."
There was a long, drawn-out silence, and August could hear Conrad scuffing his toe against the floor, his characteristic tell of anxiety. August waited on bated breath and he could tell that the others were as well, wondering just what Conrad would think of his younger brother's current bout of insane rambling. Finally Conrad turned to their uncle and said, "Your contacts, the asset that provided the information on this, I need to speak with him. I need to hear the information myself. He will tell us the truth."
"Assets are confidential," Henry said. "It's my responsibility to protect them and their anonymity."
"And we just raided a religious facility on their word," Conrad rebutted. "I want to see them at Langley when we land with proof of their information. We need to be able to show Dad that we had actionable evidence for this, and I wouldn't mind seeing it myself."
"If that's what you'd like," Henry said, his voice clipped. He turned his back and pulled out his mobile.
"August, I-" Conrad started but another noise caught August's attention. A familiar scraping whisper of metal against leather.
"Down!" August shouted and he tackled Conrad to the ground, the knife slicing through the air where his brother's neck had been only seconds before. Henry cursed bitterly as both of the other Andersons made noises of surprise. Somewhere near the back of the cabin, Anne muffled a scream.
August couldn't focus through the blaze of pain in his shoulder from where he'd collided with his brother's chest, but above him he could hear fighting. He rolled onto his back and let the waves of pain, pulses of deep red light, roll through his body. The other three Andersons were scrabbling, the fighting interspersed with noises of pain and angry growls. August shoved the agony from his shoulder away and tried to follow the motions from above.
Grunt - Swing - Staggered sidestep - Lunge - Jai yelped as he fell, hitting something hard on his way to the floor - Conrad growled - Shuffled steps - Henry snarled - Jai hadn't gotten back up -
Gritting his teeth, August awkwardly shoved himself to his feet. He drew a knife from his boot with his good hand and then listened to the two men fighting, planning his chance. Sidestep - shuffle - lunge - twist - August jumped forward, stabbing with the pocketknife, and he was rewarded when he felt the blade sink into flesh.
Conrad used the distraction to grab Henry by the arm and twist him, wrenching his arm up behind his back. Henry winced and his legs buckled, his knees hitting the ground. The knife slid out as he fell and August moved the point up to his uncle's throat. "I should do it," August said through clenched teeth. "You deserve it for everything you've done, for turning your back on your family the way you have."
"So do it," Henry said menacingly. "Prove once and for all that you're still the same rabid dog that Arthur brought in off the street."
"No," August said, tucking the knife back into the sheath in his boot. "No, you don't deserve death. You deserve worse, you deserve to be held accountable."
"And don't talk about my brother like that," Conrad said. There was a heavy thunk - metal on skull - and then Henry slumped. "Jai, you okay?" Jai groaned loudly. "Okay, you guys help me secure Uncle. Dad can deal with him when we get home."
The blood suddenly rushed from August's head and he staggered, hitting one of the seats before crumpling to the floor. "August!" His heart was pounding in his ears and the pain in his shoulder had redoubled, making his breath catch in his throat. "Augs, Jesus, your shoulder's bleeding again."
"I've been better," he gasped out, clutching his arm to keep it steady. Every breath sent another spasm of pain through his shoulder and he couldn't focus. The world was starting to dissolve in and out of focus, the sounds echoing and distant.
"C'mon we need to get you laid down," Conrad said, putting an arm around August's shoulders. He eased his little brother down onto the aisle floor, bunching up his jacket for August to use as a pillow. "You look like shit."
August's laugh faded into a moan as it jostled his shoulder. "Thanks," he murmured.
"Just relax, buddy," Conrad said. He stood up and walked away, and August tried to focus on steadying his shallow breathing. It was a few minutes - or perhaps only seconds, August couldn't be sure - later when Conrad came back and knelt beside him again. "Alright, I got morphine."
"But Henry-" August started but Conrad cut him off by sticking him with a needle.
"We've got it from here," Conrad said, pressing a ball of cotton into the crook of August's elbow. "You did good, Augs. I have no idea how you figured it out, but you saved my life back there. Get some rest. When you wake up, we'll be home."
A pleasant fogginess was creeping over him and August sighed, leaning his head back into his brother's folded jacket. The throbbing in his shoulder was softening, blurring around the edges. Henry was taken care of and the dagger was safely out of his reach. He only had one more thing he was concerned about.
"Annie," he said, grabbing his brother's arm weakly. "She okay?"
"The priestess? Yeah, she's fine," Conrad said. "She was well out of the way of the fight."
"Trust her," August said. "She had nothin' to do with it. Don' - don' hurt her."
"Alright, okay Aug, I'll keep an eye on her," Conrad said. "And when this is all over you can explain this whole thing to us and we'll get it sorted. Just - rest now. You're white as a sheet and I can't get your shoulder to stop bleeding."
"Yeah, rest," August agreed and he relaxed back against the floor again, his hand dropping from his brother's arm. The heaviness swept over him, dragging his eyelids down, and moments later he was asleep.
. . . . .
"He's detained."
"Good. I'll deal with it once he wakes up."
Beep beep beep...
"How's he doing?"
"Better. Doc says there was some moderate muscle damage though."
Beep beep beep...
"It's my fault. I shouldn't have pulled the trigger so fast. And then he tackled me out of the way when Henry tried to kill me."
"You couldn't have known. None of us did."
Beep beep beep...
August's head was pounding as he tried to focus on the swirling noises around him. The pain in his shoulder that he'd felt before he'd gone to sleep was back and it had joined forces with his headache. There was a low-laying level of nausea curling in his stomach and all in all he wanted nothing more than to slip back into the comforting black void he'd just left.
Unfortunately the voices and that damn persistent beeping were dragging him slowly to consciousness and he was powerless to fight. He had woken up just enough that the anxiety of before had crawled to the surface and he felt his heart hammering in his chest. He couldn't remember why he was upset, but there was something going on, something dangerous, and he needed to stop it.
"Whoa, his heart's spiking," the second voice said and the deep voice was suffused with worry. "August, can you hear me? You need to calm down."
August frowned. He knew that voice, now that he thought about it. He knew them both, but this voice - this voice was security and comfort. This voice was good. And if it was telling him that he was safe, that he should be calm, then he would listen. August let out a breath through his nose and the beeping above his head slowed, easing the ache in his head.
"That'a boy," the voice said. A heavy weight settled on August's good shoulder - a hand, he realised. A hand, and the thumb was rubbing a soft, sweeping pattern over his collarbone. "You waking up?"
"Dad?" August's voice caught in his throat so the word came out as a hoarse gasp and he grimaced as it pulled at his dry throat.
"Yeah, it's me August," the voice answered and August felt himself relax under his touch. How many years ago had it been the last time he'd woken up like this, with the pain of a gunshot wound and residual panic and Arthur Anderson telling him to calm down? The thought made the corner of his lips twitch.
"Welcome back, baby brother," the first voice said. "Again."
"Con," August said. "You're - okay?"
"Yeah, I'm good," Conrad said. "Thanks to you. You saved my life up there."
The details were coming back to him and August scowled. "Henry?"
"He's taken care of," Arthur said flatly. "We've got him detained for trying to kill Conrad, but we need to know why and he's not telling. August, if you know something, you need to tell us."
August nodded and then winced as it made his head pound worse. "Annie first," he said. "Is she okay?"
"Ms. Walker?" Arthur asked. "Yes, we've got her in a holding room but she's being taken care of. She's quite an interesting character." He paused and then added, "She seems quite convinced that we should trust your word, although she won't give us a reason for her unerring faith in a man whose name she does not even know. Especially when that man led the raid on her home."
"Henry is a traitor," August said. He tried to sit up but the pain in his shoulder kept him in place.
"Easy there," Arthur said. There was a mechanical whirring and August felt the bed underneath him conforming, reshaping so he was sitting reclined. "That's a serious allegation, August. Do you have some proof of that?"
"Mercer," August said. "Ben Mercer. He's a member of the Black Hand. Henry has been using them for years to run black ops missions off the books. Find him, he'll tell you everything."
"That's impossible," Conrad interjected. "The Black Hand was disbanded ages ago."
"Let him talk, Conrad," Arthur said passively. "August, go on."
August cleared his throat before continuing. "Henry came to us in Colombo and fed us false intel so we'd raid that monastery. There's something there that he wants. I don't know if it's a person or an artefact, but there's something. He used us to get in there."
"Conrad, do you agree with him?" Arthur asked.
"There's definitely something strange going on," Conrad said thoughtfully. "Uncle was quite insistent that we take that monastery through whatever means possible. And when I asked that he provide proof, that he bring forward the assets who'd provided the information, that's when he tried to kill me. I definitely think the place is more to him than just a job."
"Very well," Arthur said. "I will find the records on this Mercer. I do think I recognise the name from other work. If it turns up anything we will move forward with the investigation. Until then, August, I think you need to rest and recover. Conrad, will you send the nurse in with some painkillers." Conrad must've nodded his consent because a moment later his footsteps receded from the room.
"Dad?" August asked, holding out his right hand blindly. Arthur took it, both of his thick heavy hands closing around August's narrow, nimble one.
"You gave us a real scare, Augs," Arthur said and his professional demeanour had dropped. He wasn't Arthur Anderson, DNI, anymore. He was Arthur Anderson, father. "You really did a number on that shoulder, you nearly bled out on the ride home. We almost thought we were going to lose you for a bit."
"Not the first time I've been shot," August said with a faint smirk.
Arthur chuckled. "No, and you scared me just as much then too. Why do you have to be so damn brave, boy?"
"Learned from the best," August replied, squeezing his father's hand. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back into the pillow, listening as the light, tapping steps of the nurse entered the room. She murmured a quick "sir" to Arthur before leaving again. Almost immediately August could feel the morphine taking effect, blurring his thoughts around the edges.
He couldn't believe that he was really there, sitting beside his father again. After spending nearly two weeks racing around the world in an attempt to avenge his father's death, he was back and safe and alive. He hadn't lost his family after all. "Glad you're okay, Dad," August said, his words already beginning to slur.
Arthur laughed. "Of course I'm okay," he said. "I'm not the one who was jumping in front of bullets."
"Well just, have your bottle of Patron checked before you drink anymore," August said. "Just in case." And then he sighed and fell asleep to the sound of his father's perplexed laugh.
