I took a furtive breath and met the officer’s gaze again. “We came here because we need the Order’s help,” I said, ignoring Riley’s disgusted growl. “Because Talon is after us, too, and we thought combining forces with St. George would give us both a better chance at survival.” There, that was answering the question without revealing any details. Unfortunately, Ward was smarter than he looked.
“That tells me nothing,” he stated. “Dragons would not seek out the Order of St. George on a whim, not without some sort of plan. Not without some kind of negotiating power. If you came to us, you either have something we want, or you’re planning something and you need the Order’s help. Why risk it otherwise?” His gaze suddenly went to Tristan, as if he’d just noticed the large black case the soldier was holding, and his eyes narrowed. “What are you not telling me, dragon?”
“Lieutenant Ward.” Fortunately, Martin broke in at that moment, gesturing to a seat at the table. “If you would—I was just about to explain the situation.” Ward glowered, but he finally backed off. Martin spared a glance at Tristan, then turned to Garret.
“Am I to assume that the mission was a success?”
“Yes, sir.” Garret nodded once. “We have the prototype.”
“Good.” Martin gestured to Tristan. “Leave it on the table, St. Anthony.”
Tristan complied, giving the case a final longing glance as he walked away. “So, does this mean the Order is going to help us?” I asked, and Ward made a strangled noise of disgust, eyes flashing contempt as he glared at the other officer. Thankfully, he didn’t say anything, though Martin sighed heavily, bowing his head as he braced his arms on the table surface.
“It appears so,” he murmured, almost too soft to be heard. “Dragons and the Order, working together. Heaven help us all.” There was a pause, as if he was taking a deep breath, or making peace with that notion, before looking up. “Lieutenant.” He turned to Ward. “As you have already guessed, the Western Chapterhouse has accepted the aid of a group of dragons not allied with Talon. The reasons for this are severalfold—we need more bodies than we currently have to stand against the organization. These dragons have inside knowledge about Talon and how it works. They have already proved instrumental in acquiring something that could help us greatly in the war effort.”
Not to mention, we did save you from the first wave of Talon’s clones, I thought, though it seemed petty to voice it out loud. Ward made a disgusted noise and crossed his arms. Martin ignored it.
“As part of this deal,” the lieutenant went on, “the Western Chapterhouse has agreed to aid them in their efforts against Talon. You don’t have to be part of this, Lieutenant,” he added before Ward could say anything. “The Eastern Chapterhouse can refuse to help, and it will be well within your rights to do so. But know that the dragons here are under my protection, and I will not permit anyone, soldier or otherwise, to harm, threaten or harass them in any way. Please make that known to your men. The last thing we need is a battle within our own walls.”
“You goddamn fool,” Ward growled. “You’ve made a deal with the devil, and have dragged the rest of us into it, as well. What is this aid you’ve promised, because I’ll be damned if I’m letting a group of lizards out of my sight.”
“A rescue mission,” Martin said calmly. “We’re going to free a group of dragons Talon is holding captive.”
I thought Ward might explode. His neck bulged, his eyes got huge and his face turned an interesting shade of red. “Are you…fucking serious?” he roared, making me wince. “Not only are we accepting help from these monsters, we’re going to free them, too? Turn more dragons loose on the world, that’s what you’re planning?”
“You don’t have to come,” Riley said, that dangerous smirk crossing his face again. “If rescuing a bunch of soulless lizards is against your moral code, feel free to stay behind. In fact, I encourage it. It would be such a crying shame if you didn’t make it back.”
Ward shot him a look of black hatred, and I winced. Riley’s anger, though justified, was not helping things. “Lieutenant Martin,” Ward continued, his voice stiff and ugly. “Just so we are perfectly clear. Do you truly intend to help these monsters?”
“Yes,” Martin replied firmly. “I gave my word, and the Order is in desperate need of allies, Lieutenant. These dragons have agreed to help us fight Talon, and right now, I will take their aid and the hope of survival over following the Code of St. George.”
“Very well,” Ward growled. “Then I have no choice but to be a part of this. Someone must be there to make sure these things don’t slit our throats from behind. Though let it be on your conscience when they inevitably turn on us.”
“Funny,” Riley said. “I was just thinking the same thing.”
Ward didn’t deign to answer. Spinning on a heel, he marched from the room, slamming the door behind him. The frame rattled in the wake of the lieutenant’s exit, and he was gone.
Martin sighed.
“Sebastian,” he continued, as if determined to ignore everything that had happened in the past five minutes. “Good work on retrieving the prototype. I did some research while you were away. The island you’ve described does indeed exist, and appears to be privately owned. Look here.” He pointed to the table, where the map of the island lay unfolded at the center. “Judging from the map,” Martin continued as we crowded forward, “it has a docking station at the west point for food and supplies, and a guard tower at the north, south and east points of the island. But as far as I can tell, the rest of the fence line is unpatrolled.”
“So getting in won’t be an issue,” Riley guessed. “The challenge will be leaving the island with a bunch of dragons in tow, some of whom might not be able to Shift into human form.” He grimaced and looked at Martin. “Did you happen to find a solution to that little problem? How we’re going to safely transport a large number of dragons across the ocean without anyone seeing them?”
“The Order still has a few resources at its disposal,” Martin replied with a thoughtful look at the map. His brow furrowed, and he nodded slowly. “It will be difficult, but I think I have a way.” He paused, as if thinking, then glanced up at Riley. “I assume you’ll want this done as soon as possible.”
Riley nodded. “As soon as we can.”
“All right.” The lieutenant stepped back from the table. “I’ll need to make a few more calls, phone in a few favors, but if everything works out, we’ll be ready to go in under a week. I can’t promise anything more than that.”
“You’ve already agreed to more than we’d hoped for,” I said, making him raise a brow at me. “Thank you, Lieutenant.”
He gave a grim smile. “Don’t thank me yet, dragon. If this mission is to succeed, all its members must work together without fail. That means dragons and soldiers of St. George. Talk to me afterward, if any of us are still alive. St. Anthony…” He looked at Tristan, who snapped to attention. “If you would kindly join me in my office with the prototype. I would like to hear the mission details while we are examining this weapon in private. Sebastian?” He glanced at me. “Join us when you can.”
“Yes, sir.”
They left the room, Tristan retrieving the prototype from the desk, leaving me to think about the upcoming mission, and how unlikely it was that everyone would get along, work together and pull this off without a hitch. Ward’s arrival and insistence upon coming with us to the island certainly threw everything into question.
Riley shook his head and stepped back. “Well, I need to find Wes,” he announced, glancing at me and Garret. “Let him know what’s going on, see if he can uncover anything useful. If that Lieutenant Loudmouth and his men are coming with us, I want to know everything we can about that island so we can at least be prepared if they decide to shoot us in the back.”
“What about Mist?” Garret suggested. “She’s the one who gave us the map. Maybe she knows something.”