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They crossed out of 3-D space and a minute later they returned. The look on Dekka’s face left no one asking questions.
CHAPTER 19
Losing Battles
“WE LOST. I mean, that’s the reality: we lost.” Shade Darby paced across the living room of the brownstone.
“We haven’t exactly surrendered,” Malik said mildly. “We just got outplayed in the first game of a series.”
“We lost,” Shade snapped. “We went to take this bug guy down, and we walked away leaving him alive. We lost. We left a man behind, and it all would have been a hell of a lot worse without Francis.”
“How are you?” Malik asked Francis.
“Shaky,” she admitted.
“So Markovic is still around, and Williams is . . .” Dekka sagged into an easy chair, gripped the arms, and hung her head. “I wasn’t prepared. I led you guys into it, and I was not prepared. I won’t let that happen again.”
“What could we have done differently?” Cruz asked.
“I would have . . .” Shade glanced at Dekka. “We should have thought about what we were facing. We had no useful weapons to use against it.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t recall you making that suggestion earlier, when it might have helped.” It was clear, even to Shade, that Dekka was containing her anger, but might not hold it in forever.
Shade stabbed a finger toward Dekka, who sat, immobile, as Shade moved restlessly. “Listen, Dekka, we need some basic ideas for how we’re doing this. Priorities. And priority number one is take down the bad guys.”
“By letting Armo take a bullet in the head?”
Armo raised a hand tentatively, like a schoolboy who thought he might have an answer but wasn’t sure. He was ignored and lowered his hand.
“Yes, if that’s the only way,” Shade said. She was admittedly intimidated by Dekka sometimes, but intimidation didn’t stick with Shade. In her mind, Dekka had screwed up. She’d held her fire and she’d let herself be slowed down by Markovic, and worst of all, her plan had only gone as far as getting them all in place. Some distant part of Shade whispered that she was being unjust, that she was taking her frustration out on Dekka. But that was only a whisper.
“So as soon as you don’t like a decision I make, you figure it’s time for you to take over, Shade? One mistake and done, right? You want us to start counting up your mistakes? Because I’ll bet we’d all have some things to say on that topic.”
“At least I don’t forget my goal!”
Dekka stood. Self-pity time was over. “That’s the one thing you never forget, Shade: you. You, you, you.”
Armo sighed, stood up, and wedged himself between the two women as they moved closer to each other. “Dudes. Come on. Chill.”
“How many people are going to die because we weren’t ready?” Shade demanded, and she saw from the way Dekka winced that the blow had landed.
“You think I’m happy about that?” Dekka erupted. “Listen, little rich girl, this isn’t my first time making a decision that could turn to shit. But don’t throw that hesitation thing at me. I don’t sacrifice people’s lives, in this case Armo’s life.”
“Good leaders make sacrifices,” Shade said. “This is war, Dekka. This is a war to save human civilization. People are going to die. And if we’re part of this war, we’re going to kill. And sometimes we’re going to sacrifice the innocent. Because if we lose, then the villains win.”
“Your idea of a hero is someone who lets people die?”
“I don’t give a damn about heroism; I don’t like losing. My idea of a winner is someone who does whatever it takes to win. And as it happened, we didn’t exactly save Williams, did we? While we were talking with some blue bumblebee, Markovic was sending his bugs to infest Williams!”
Dekka stood dangerously still and silent, and Shade knew she’d gone too far. She tried to come up with words to take it back, but it was too late.
Finally, Dekka, speaking in a low, terse growl, said, “I didn’t exactly see you volunteering to take care of Williams, Shade. You were happy enough to leave that to me.” She held up her hands and looked at her own palms as if they had betrayed her.
With the power in those hands, Shade knew, Dekka had killed a man. A doomed man. A man begging for the release of death. But a human being, a man who had done no wrong, nothing to deserve being shredded into chunks no bigger than a McNugget . . . The accus
ation stung: she could have done it, maybe not as easily as Dekka, but she could have done it. And as Dekka said, she had not exactly volunteered.
Shade felt the anger drain away to be replaced by guilt and sadness. “He seemed like a good guy. Detective Williams.”
