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The room hung in silence until Daire opened his mouth to say, “Okay then.”
TWENTY-SEVEN
H RETURNED TO HIS SEAT and Daire went back to cooking.
Tess couldn’t believe it. “That’s it?” she asked.
“What did you expect?” H asked. “I can’t say anything other than that.”
Putting down her fork, she leaned over her plate. “You and these mysterious ‘Six’ cooked up some scheme to off the guy in charge of Olympus. You didn’t tell the boy you raised, the man who you said would be our primary instrument of success because you didn’t think he’d side with you. The whole thing imploded, Olympus went to shit, and all you can say is ‘I was wrong’?”
“What else should I say?”
With her hands on the table, she pushed back. “I don’t know. But, geez, you want to talk strategy moving forward? How can you do that when nothing is resolved?”
“It is resolved.”
Tess was gobsmacked. “With an ‘I was wrong’? That’s it? How do you know he’s not still harboring some animosity that will blow up in your face the minute you’re eyeball to eyeball with this Z? How does he know you won’t keep some secret from him in future? How can you trust each other?”
H frowned again. “Daire walked into the control room yesterday fully prepared to kill or be killed. As did I when I saw it was him. We’ve had plenty of opportunities through the years to take each other down. We haven’t.”
Her mouth wouldn’t close, she didn’t get it. “And that’s enough? That’s enough for both of you to know that you won’t turn on each other at the first opportunity?”
“Dying at my son’s hands would be an honor,” H said, moving his newspaper from the table when Daire put an omelet and flatware down. “I hope that’s exactly how I go.”
Tess’s head moved side to side. “I don’t trust any of you people. You’re crazy.”
H smiled as he cut into his omelet. “Tensions run high. Adrenaline kicks in. People say and do things they don’t mean. We learn from our mistakes. That’s the reality of battle. After an op, we break it down and replay it. Whether it was a success or failure, we extrapolate other potential eventualities and avenues that may have been used. Improves efficiency. Daire doesn’t hesitate. If it was his choice to kill me, I’d be dead. If it was his choice to punish me, you’d be dead.”
“Oh, well, that’s just great news for me,” Tess said, pushing her plate away. Suddenly, she wasn’t hungry anymore. “And how does he know you’re not out there deciding what’s best for him without consulting him?”
“I know now what the repercussions would be.” Him dead or her dead? “Intel is the key to survival.”
Maybe this learning curve wasn’t for her after all.
Daire propped himself against the counter and folded his arms. “If you don’t want to call Z out directly, how do you want to do it?”
“Round up the men. As many of them as we can.”
“That could take months. Longer, given we don’t know how many of them are still alive. We could waste months chasing ghosts.”
“Maybe,” H said, still eating his omelet. “But they are at risk. We have power in numbers.”
“Yeah,” Daire said, pushing away from the counter to go to the fridge. “I’d agree if we revived Minotaur.”
“You’re hellbent,” H said.
Daire reappeared with a glass. While still looking at H, he held it toward her. She sniffed it before drinking. Coconut milk. It was difficult to remember that Daire wasn’t Danny when he did Danny things.
“Why shouldn’t we do it?” Daire asked. “Beta is just sitting there.”
“So reviving Minotaur is less about locating our people and more about getting the operation on its feet again? Say what you mean, son.”
She swallowed a mouthful of the milk quickly and waved a hand. “Who’s Minotaur?”
“The Olympus computer,” Daire said without taking his focus from H. “Ideally, yes, but Z would never stand for that.”
“We’d be sitting ducks,” H said. “His access codes will still work.”
