Hardbingers

13

Cal stepped into the Kosher Nosh and looked around.

The 0 had described the woman and the child and had said they'd be crossing the street shortly after leaving the deli. Cal just wanted to make sure they were where they were supposed to be.

"To eat in or to go?" said the bearded man behind the counter.

Eat? With his stomach feeling like it did? Out of the question.

"Just looking for a friend."

"Look away."

The place was three-quarters full, but he spotted her short blond hair almost immediately. Couldn't tell from here if she was pregnant, but she was sitting with a dark-haired little girl that fit the Oculus's description. The kid was reading to her from a book and they both were laughing.

Cal felt the room sway around him. Mother and daughter—had to be. Out together and enjoying each other.

His legs felt unsteady as he saw what might have been. He grabbed a chair and dropped into it.

That woman… that child… had things been different, had his parents not left him to die in a cold squatter's building, the Twins wouldn't have had to rescue him. He might have had a normal childhood, might have married a woman like that and had a child like that.

This wasn't the first time he'd thought of this, but most times he could lock it away—dreaming about might-have-beens was a form of self-torture. Useless. Destructive.

But today, now, at this moment, he could not sweep them under the rug. He was going to destroy a family.

"Find your friend?" the bearded man said.

Cal shook his head. "No."

He could say no more. He turned and staggered back to the sidewalk.

Miller stood on the corner, waiting.

"They in there?"

Cal nodded. "They're there, but 1 can't do it."

"What?"

"1 can't. I just… can't."

"Shit." Miller spit into the gutter. "You're turning into a real pussy, you know that?"

Cal didn't care what Miller or anyone else—including the Ally—thought, he wasn't getting behind the wheel of that truck.

"Let's just call it off, okay?"

"Call it off? We can't call it off! It was an Alarm, an order straight from the top."

"You sure about that?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I mean, it doesn't feel right. Something's wrong, Miller. It felt wrong when she got the bull's-eye put on her the first time, and it feels even more wrong now. And December—I don't even want to think about December."

Miller's features hardened. "We're soldiers, Davis. We've sworn to follow orders."

"Which means we'd make good little Nazis, right?"

"Don't try that hot-button shit on me."

"Well, why don't we grab her, take her to one of the safe houses, and grill her about her connection to the Otherness?"

"Did the 0 see us grilling her? No, he saw us offing her. So that's what we're gonna do."

"What if there's been a mistake?"

"Shit, Davis. The Ally don't make mistakes. We see only a tiny piece of the picture. These orders come from a source that's got the widescreen view and knows and sees a helluva lot more than we do. We do what needs to be done and we move on. No looking back."

Cal shook his head. "I'm saying it feels wrong."

"Don't matter what you feel. We've got to trust that what's good for the Ally is good for us. We can't do that, we might as well go Home and gather everyone together for a Kool-Aid party."

In the rational part of his mind Cal knew Miller was right: If they started second-guessing the higher wisdom that had recruited them, they'd be ineffective against the Otherness. But emotionally he felt as if he should be protecting that woman and child, not plotting their deaths.

Cal shook his head again. "I can't do it."

Miller leaned into him and spoke through bared teeth. "Then I guess it's up to me, just like it was in December. And if I'd been behind the wheel in November we wouldn't be having this argument. It would have been a done deal. But the 0 said he'd seen Zeklos behind the wheel, so the pussy got the gig. And fucked it up. Well, no more fuck-ups. I'll take the truck, you drive getaway."

He stomped off, leaving Cal standing on the corner.

Cal didn't want to drive getaway either, didn't want to have anything to do with this. In fact, he wanted to go back to that deli and tell the woman to stay put, or stay away from 58th Street, or call an armored car to take her home.

But he didn't.