Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 80829 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 404(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80829 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 404(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
That seemed to be a trend with London. He led a charmed existence. It wasn’t that he didn’t experience adversity, it was that when a crisis occurred, another opportunity always presented itself. He was expected to do well and always land on his feet and had no doubt he would.
Elias had been in a state of crisis from the moment the gates opened. It never stopped. No exit ramp ever appeared, and if it had, he wasn’t sure he would’ve taken it.
His grandfather was a carpenter who got drafted during WWII and served with honor. His father enlisted in the Navy to escape Vietnam, because he knew he would eventually be drafted. He ended up going career, retiring twenty years later, and picking up a civilian contractor job at the Department of Defense. Elias himself had gone to the Virginia Military Institute, and his big rebellion consisted of accepting a commission in the Army instead of the Navy, partially to spite his dad. He was the first college graduate and the first officer in four generations of McFerons. To him, striving for advancement was a given. You always wanted to be better, to do more, to get that next rank, to excel, and to make a difference.
No matter where life took them, London would always slightly look down on him. The condescension of classism was so casual, London himself likely barely registered it. Normally Elias didn’t give a fuck what London – or anyone else – thought of him, but right now he needed to remind the escort captain of their respective roles. This wasn’t a business meeting. London wasn’t doing him a favor. He was called out on the carpet and had to account for his actions. The man was entirely too comfortable, and when people felt that comfortable, lying was effortless. He needed to deliver a powerful, precise punch and knock London off balance, or he would never get to the bottom of this mess.
Elias leveled a heavy stare at London. “Is this another Lansing? If it is, you need to tell me now.”
London went pale.
That’s right. Remember how you landed in your current spot. Remember why you’re no longer the assault leader.
London leaned back in his chair, his expression indignant. “How much longer? How many times do I have to prove myself? Will you ever let it go? What do I have to do?”
Too easy. “Not losing an entire escort team and most of the miners would be a good start.”
The words hung between them.
The door swung open. Leo entered the room and sat on Elias’ left. They had coordinated this prior to the interview.
“That’s unfair,” London said. “Nobody could have stopped that. You couldn’t have stopped that.”
“I would’ve tried.”
“And you would be dead.”
Elias pointed to the survey of the mining site printed on a large posterboard. Staying at the library had its perks. “Walk me through it.”
London glanced at Leo. “I already spoke to the Vice-Guildmaster.”
“And now you’re speaking to me.” Elias paused to let the weight of his words sink in.
The escort captain shifted his body to the side, leaning to his left in the chair, and crossed his arms. If they were standing in the breach instead of sitting in the office, London’s shield would be up.
Elias leaned forward, taking up more of London’s view, communicating that the table between them wasn’t much of a barrier. His speech was unhurried.
“You know what’s so easy about telling the truth? It’s always the same. You don’t have to think, you don’t have to keep track of it. It never changes. Start with the moment you entered the gate. You were four minutes behind schedule. Why?”
London sighed. “Ms. Moore had an emergency phone call regarding her daughter. I judged it to be in the best interest of the guild to allow her to resolve that situation before we went in. That way she could be more fully focused on the assessing.”
“What happened next?” Elias pressed.
“We entered the breach and proceeded to the mining site.” London pointed to the survey. “We walked for approximately twelve minutes. The transit was uneventful. Seven minutes in we encountered a group of deceased hostiles, which we identified as a variant of Calloway’s stalkers…”
The story was largely the same as the notes Elias had read: they got to the site, started mining, then five hostiles emerged from the tunnels and slaughtered everyone. According to London, he saved whom he could by collapsing the entrance. This time though, he mentioned the gold in addition to the adamantite.
“You omitted the discovery of the gold in your original interview. Why?”
“It was not relevant. I was focused on conveying the nature of the threat.”
“Fifteen people died or are presumed dead,” Elias said. “Everything is relevant.”
“I know,” the exasperation was clear in London’s voice. “I can count.”
He wasn’t completely lying, Elias reflected. His physical responses when recounting the attack matched those of someone who lived through a near death experience. Whatever happened scared the hell out of London, and that was precisely the problem.