The Fallen Legacies

CHAPTER 22

For the first time in years I’m invited into the General’s briefing room.

“We have reliable intelligence that a member of the Garde might be hiding in Kenya,” says my father, handing out a printout of an article from a travel magazine. The article is a few months old, and considering its vague content, it is no wonder it took our techs so long to unearth it. In the article, while gushing about a small marketplace in Kenya, the writer describes a kid with a strange ankle branding that’s unlike anything he’s seen on other local tribespeople. The description bears a striking resemblance to the Loric charm.

“Has this been confirmed?” I ask, getting in my question before Ivan is even finished dragging his finger along the article’s middle sentences.

“Obtaining confirmation using normal methods has proven an obstacle.”

“We can’t exactly blend in with this kind of community,” I say, earning a sharp look of annoyance from my father, even though he knows I’m right.

“What’s that mean?” asks Ivan, slow on the uptake as usual.

It is just the two of us being briefed by the General. Whatever my father has planned in Kenya, it will be the first time Ivan and I will be out on our own. We both know what a prestigious and dangerous mission this is. I’m a little surprised the General chose me for this assignment-for any assignment, really. Could it be that he doesn’t worry about placing me in harm’s way anymore? I decide now is a good time to play the apt pupil, to demonstrate my commitment to Mogadorian progress.

“Assuming they’re in an African village environment,” I explain to Ivan, keeping my words insultingly slow, “it would make slipping in a scout team extremely difficult. They’d know we weren’t locals, and we’d risk tipping our hand to the Loric prematurely. It’s smart planning on the Garde’s part. Isn’t that right, Father?”

“Yes,” my father concedes, “that is correct.”

“Why don’t we just go wipe out this village?” asks Ivan. “Who cares about blending in?”

I snort. “How many incidents like London do you think we can have before the humans start asking questions?”

“So what if they ask questions?”

“You’d endanger the security of the entire war effort to massacre one village, then?”

“Adamus,” says the General, his voice a menacing rumble, “would you like to run this briefing?”

“No, sir,” I reply. Ivan smirks.

“As for your question, Ivanick, subtlety is the correct course of action here.”

I feel Ivan deflate a little next to me. Subtlety is not something I’m sure Ivan even knows the meaning of.

“We have managed to secure you cover identities that will not unduly disturb the locals,” continues my father. “You two will infiltrate this village and determine whether there is indeed a Garde presence. I will have a strike team mobilized in the jungle should you obtain confirmation.”

My father gives me a long look, sizing me up. Then he turns to Ivan.

“Ivanick, you will be in charge. You will report back to me directly.”

Ivan nods eagerly. “Yes, sir. Of course.”

The General turns back to me.

“Adamus,” he says, “do not disappoint me.”

“No, sir,” I reply.