Friday

June 2nd

The day had dawned crisp and clear, if not a little chill due to having no clouds in the sky, and Gideon sat on the hood of his auto and contemplated a handful of lollipops trying to decide on the first flavor of the day.

The lollipops, outside of his computer, the programs on it, and his auto, were his third largest expense. He would admit though they were cheaper than cigarettes. He didn’t consider sending money home to his folks an expense. He turned the lollipops about in his fingers.

The leather vest of the Club felt heavy over his shoulders but it felt secure too, his badge of acceptance. It helped settle that inner voice a little, but it was still uneasy. He felt like he was circling around something, but didn’t know what it was. Rosie had helped him adjust the vest to fit right. Rosie claimed not to sleep much anymore. Her eyes had narrowed at the sight of the vest though, and a contemplating look had come into her eye.

It was almost as if her respect for him had gone up a notch, and he wasn’t sure why.

He’d come to the Club right after grabbing breakfast at one of the twenty-four hour diners. He apparently was the first one here. Or it looked like he was the first one here. There were a few motorcycles but no signs of their riders and no lights on in any of the windows. Brand hadn’t precisely given him a time. He’d been surprised to see that the gates were open and there wasn’t a guard in sight. He was beginning to get a little suspicious about the dusky skinned guy who’d met him on his first entry.

Suspicious, as in, that had been the person Brand had keeping an eye on him.

A motorcycle pulled in, parked, and, with a twist of the head and neck, the helmet shrank to the size of the earpiece of the rider’s personal computer. Gideon watched idly, olive tone skin, long dark brown hair and a face he actually recognized. The rider was Hunter.

Hunter got off her cycle and turned to look at him. Her eyes narrowed and she crossed her arms. “Aren’t you Mister Bright-and-Early?” she said.

Gideon shifted on the auto. He hadn’t been able to sleep. “No one gave me a time.”

Hunter snorted.

Another bike pulled in and parked. This one Gideon recognized by the vest alone. He hadn’t seen another vest with stars, epaulets, and a dagger pin. It had to be Brand. The helmet shrank and Brand got off his motorcycle. He turned, saw Gideon, and grinned, nodding.

Gideon nodded back.

The door to the hangar opened, metal scraping against cement. Gideon turned his head to look. It was the short girl from yesterday. He still couldn’t make out her features.

Brand frowned, looked up at the sky, and looked around the lot. Hadn’t Savannah gone home? From the looks of things, likely not. He sighed. He gestured at Hunter to stay where she was and jogged over to his granddaughter. He stopped in front of her.

“Savannah,” he murmured. There were rings under her eyes. He didn’t want her to fix the transport in detriment to her health. She would need to be alert for the mission.

Her eyes widened, and when she spoke, her voice cracked and rose in pitch. “It’s worse than I thought. When he got it down, and the thrusters exploded, instead of the fires going out, they went up. We’ve pulled the thrusters, but all the linkages leading to them are burnt to hell. It all has to be pulled out and replaced, and with Eberron looking for that short, it’s going to take another day or two at the least!”

“Short?”

“Quinn claims the computers shorted after the second stall.”

“Second stall.” Brand growled. It was a good thing the puppy had decided to stay. He definitely needed to get Quinn on a leash and fast.

Savannah nodded and it wasn’t happy. “Half the thrusters are totally unsalvageable. Those will be easy enough to replace if we can get the stock quick enough. Then those next to them either need to be realigned or repaired. It’d be easier to replace them. The cost and the time, every single one is going to have to be calibrated and Eb is worried the short is part of the linkages with the thrusters and—”

Brand reached out and hugged her. “I understand, honey bunny,” he murmured.

Her arms came up around and hugged him back. She sniffled. “I’m doing my best.”

“You keep doing it. Take the time you need and get sleep too.”

“But the doctor.”

“He isn’t going anywhere,” Brand growled. “And he’s still alive as far as we know.”

Savannah nodded and wiped her eyes with the shoulder of her coverall. It disturbed smudges of grease on her cheeks, leaving pale streaks of skin showing. “I have to get back to work.”

“And let the others sleep too, Savannah.”

“I’ll remember.”

Brand made a mental note to send Frankie over to shove them all into a bed. He should have said something about it to her last night since she’d taken the food over and all. He’d hoped Savannah would have enough sense to get to bed by herself.

Of course, this was Savannah he was thinking about. She’d drive herself into the ground if there were someone else in need.

Brand hugged her again and let her go. “At least, take a nap sometime today.”

Savannah nodded again. She turned back into the hangar.

“Savannah,” he growled.

She looked over her shoulder at him. “I will!”

He rolled his eyes and turned around, next issue on the list. He jogged over to Hunter and the prospect. He ignored Gideon for the moment and focused on Hunter. “Hunt, when Rio shows up, send her to the hangar directly,” he said.

Hunter nodded. “Will do.”

“And spread the word.”

Hunter nodded again.

Brand turned to Gideon. “You’ve got a doctor’s appointment up at St. Nicholas today with Doc Hope at one. This should be over in plenty of time for you to go get your bed in. Beda mentioned it last night, and I called them to find out the time.” Actually, he’d called to nail the guy down to an accurate time instead of several hours leeway where the guy would show up late to be obnoxious.

Gideon blinked. “Uh—”

“Club insurance will cover the cost,” Brand continued. “You mentioned being hit by an IED and I want Hope to make sure that you’re healthy, standard physical type thing.”

Gideon nodded. He didn’t think he was getting a choice in the matter.

Brand turned to Hunter. “This morning, get him checked out on our standard armory.” That afternoon, Hope would send over Gideon’s physicals, and Hunter could get his armor fitted without him having to be there. Hunter nodded. “Until further notice, Gideon is going to help you out in the weapon’s locker. He says he has experience cleaning and fixing weapons.”

Hunter grimaced.

Gideon loosened his shoulders. Apparently his word wasn’t going to be enough. He’d have to prove it to her and hope his smart-ass remarks wouldn’t set her off too much.

Brand knew Hunter wouldn’t take it well. She had her ways of doing things and Gideon was going to be an obstacle in doing things her way. The weapon’s locker did need another hand some of the time. He moved closer to Hunter. “In his odd hours,” he muttered and winked at her. Right now, he needed to keep Gideon occupied until Savannah was free enough to take the boy under her wing and give him a hard time.

Hunter’s face blanked, and she looked at Brand and then at Gideon and then off towards the hangar. She coughed and nodded. “Right.”

Brand clapped her on the shoulder and turned to Gideon. “You stick with Hunt for now. Remember, hospital at one.”

Gideon nodded. “Stick with Hunter, hospital at one.”

“Then run more errands. Beda said you didn’t get to pick out any furniture. It’s a home, not a barrack.” Brand shook his head. “I told you, dishes, towels, get settled in. You’re probably going to be here awhile.”

Gideon flushed. He’d been able to pick up some of it. Who knew there were so many patterns for dishes? That was it. He was going and choosing white. Simple. “I’ll do that.” He fidgeted with the lollipops.

“Rosie gave you a list?” Brand asked.

Gideon nodded.

Brand chuckled. “All right. I’ll leave you to it,” he said and jogged off towards the Heaven Has Mercy main office.

Hunter looked at him. “IED?” she asked.

Gideon grimaced and nodded. “Stuck me in a hospital for three months,” he said. “Half of it was surgery and recovery. The other half was physical therapy.”

Hunter stared at him. “What were you doing?”

“Special Forces, classified. If I told you, I’d have to kill you.”

Hunter inhaled deeply and then let it out. “Just because you’re military, doesn’t mean I’m going to go easy on you, Prospect.”

Gideon grinned. “No, ma’am,” he said with a hint of a country drawl.

Hunter narrowed her eyes at him and jerked her head towards the building Brand had entered. She started walking that way without waiting to see if he followed. Gideon jumped off the auto’s hood, stuck his lollipops in his pocket, and hurried after her.

---

Brand rapped his knuckles on the door to the computer room once before pushing it open. He knew better than to not give his people fair warning. He entered the room and blinked to adjust his eyes to the dimness. The light seemed to be coming out of the holographic projections along the walls. He looked at the chair.

Darkside, Misha’s dark haired wife, sat in Misha’s lap, her legs crossed and her arms about his neck. Misha craned his neck back to look at him. Darkside used the motion to nuzzle him.

“Darkside, I need you to find Houston,” Brand said.

Darkside pushed her hair back and sat up. She leaned back and began tapping at a keyboard that appeared under her fingers. A slide show of pictures appeared on the screen, flipping past person after person until it settled on a strawberry blonde male with blue eyes and a face full of good humor. Another screen started moving, a square target moving across an outline map of North America with the words searching on the bottom.

Brand looked at Misha. “If you see Rio, send her directly to the hangar.”

Misha nodded. “Will do,” he said and his voice rumbled.

Brand wanted to roll his eyes. Did any of his people ever get enough sleep?

Darkside looked back at him. “I found him.”

Brand came over to the table and leaned against it. He glanced up at the map. Good, Houston was within half a day hard ride. “Satellite?” he asked.

“In this hemisphere, we can reach him.” Darkside said, meaning there were towers in Houston’s direction to bounce the satellite signal off of.

Brand nodded. “Do it.”

“Establishing a connection. Hope he’s awake,” Darkside said.

Misha kissed her neck. “It’s Houston, love.”

The computer beeped. “Good Morning Jasper!” Houston about-shouted on the other side.

Brand grinned. “Houston, we have a problem.”

“And this is your very own operational control center, how may we help you?”

“Get your tail home. Quinn did a number on the transport and has Savannah near tears.”

“Oh no, no, no, not good. I am on my way.”

“And Houston.” Brand paused.

“Yes big daddy of big daddies.”

“Put your foot down. She needs a nap sometime today.”

“Savannah needs a nappy-poo, check,” Houston said. “I’ll be there in two shakes, a jump, and a howl.”

“No. It’s too early for howling,” Misha groaned.

Houston made a raspberry noise and cut off the signal. Brand stood up and shook his head. There, he’d gotten as much help as he could for Savannah. Too many more and they’d be stomping on each other’s toes. He looked at Darkside. “If you can help Eberron find the short Quinn didn’t mention, I’d be obliged.”

Darkside looked down her nose at him. “I’m not a mechanic of any sort.”

“You can run the computer, that way he doesn’t have to get up and down all the time.”

Darkside sighed and kissed Misha. “Yes, Brand,” she muttered once she was done. She wiggled out of Misha’s lap.

Misha refused to let her go until she was completely out of his reach, and slumped into his seat.

Brand looked at him, “Hunter is checking the new guy out.”

Darkside snickered as she headed out the door. Misha looked up and considered the ceiling. “I guess I’ll go get coffee.” He scratched his chin and then looked at Brand. “You think the new guy likes coffee?”

“I guess you’ll find out,” Brand said.

Misha stood and stretched. “I know what you’re doing,” he said.

“Organizing everything to suit myself?”

“That. Except, you know, in smaller words.” He headed out the door. “And you know, swearing words.”

Brand sighed. Misha thought he was being an asshole. Not that Brand cared. “A man’s got to do what he does best.” He grinned and put all the computers on standby and headed out the door himself.

---

Gideon stuck his hands in his pockets. He sucked on his lollipop and looked around the small anteroom that Hunter had led him into. She’d disappeared through yet another door and he’d caught a glimpse of racks and racks of guns on the other side.

This room had the window to the hall that Brand had talked to Hunter through in order to get his knife. Underneath the window was a table and on it was a small hard drive and a projector for a computer. The table had a lot of drawers and Gideon figured that’s where she kept the bracelets that she’d given him. Otherwise, the room had several large flat tables and chairs or more or less large seamless boards propped up on filing cabinets. Right now one of them had anything on them.

Gideon wandered over to it and looked down. He moved the lollipop from one side of his mouth to the other with his tongue.

A gun lay in pieces on top of the table. It was laid out in rows with the pieces that went together closest to each other, the barrel on one end and the handle on the other. If he closed one eye and squinted he could almost see how the gun would look when it was completed. It was a weapon he was familiar with. One of the first guns he’d been given during basic training. He tilted his head and for no other reason than he had nothing else to do he made a mental list of parts and started putting it together in his head.

He came to one section of the gun and frowned. There was a part missing. His eyes skipped over the other rows. He reached down and picked up the missing part, which was three rows over and bent in a direction it wasn’t supposed to go into. At first glance it looked like it was supposed to be that way, but Gideon knew this gun.

Gideon put it into hand to warm the part up. He grimaced, took his thumbs and with a growl bent it back in the right direction. His eyes backflashed green and his teeth lengthened slightly. The part bent back and Gideon eased up pressure.

His teeth returned to normal. He held the part up to the light and narrowed his eyes. It wasn’t perfect but it wouldn’t mess with the gun’s function. He’d really rather replace it, but he didn’t know where Hunter kept the extra parts.

He put the part down on the table and without really thinking about what he was doing picked up the grip and started fitting it back together.

Sasha opened the door quietly for his brother Misha. Misha held three coffee cups in his hands in a triangular fashion.

They entered and stopped to watch Gideon. Sasha looked at Misha. Misha looked at Sasha. Misha made a show of pressing his lips together. They knew that Gideon was messing with their sister’s latest frustration project. Sasha grinned behind his beard.

Hunter opened the other door as Gideon finished fitting the gun together and checked the slide. She had weapons slung over her shoulders and cradled a few in her arms. “What are you doing?” she asked.

Gideon jumped, set the gun down and put his hands back in his pockets. “It was broke,” he muttered. Oops.

Hunter scowled at him. She knew it was broken. She hadn’t known why as it was from a manufacturer they didn’t do much business with and she didn’t have a diagram to fix it with. She’d been fiddling with it for weeks.

Misha grinned. He came over and kissed her cheek. “Aww, sis, the Prospect is showing you up already.”

Hunter turned her scowl on him.

“Coffee?” Misha asked and turned to Gideon.

Gideon flicked his eyes at Hunter, then reached out and took one of them. “Thanks,” he said.

Misha turned to Hunter and held out one of the remaining coffees.

“My hands are full,” she growled.

“Then dump all of that on the Prospect where it belongs,” Misha said with a grin.

Sasha couldn’t restrain his snickers anymore. Hunter glared at him. Sasha came over, wrapped an arm about his sister. “It is broken. He fix. It’s good. He’s being useful,” Sasha said and kissed her forehead.

“I would have gotten it,” Hunter growled. She dumped the guns in her arms on the table.

Gideon opened the gun and pointed at the part. “It was bent.”

Sasha guffawed and hid his face in Hunter’s hair.

“I tried saying something had to be bent or broken.” Misha wrinkled his nose. “But you weren’t willing to listen.”

“I heard you fine,” Hunter snapped. She took the straps of the bigger guns off of her shoulder and held them out towards Gideon. “Take these,” she said.

Gideon grabbed them before she let go. He didn’t grunt. He shifted them all to his own shoulder. He glanced at the different guns on the table. They considered this their standard armory? He still wasn’t sure why a biker club would have a weapon’s locker, shanty practice town, and a space flight capable transport. Brand wasn’t sticking around long enough to ask questions. A quick glance at Hunter’s face and Gideon figured now wasn’t the time to ask anything of her. It bothered him though, an itch he couldn’t quite scratch.

“Yes. You heard. You weren’t listening,” Misha said.

Hunter shrugged out of Sasha’s arms and took her coffee, gave Misha a dour look, kissed his cheek, and marched back towards the door.

Gideon scooped the guns off the table and followed her. He figured he might go along with it for now. It was something to do that wasn’t shopping. He disliked shopping.

Misha snickered, and he and Sasha followed Gideon.

Hunter heard them. “What are you two doing here?” she asked.

“Learning more about the prospect,” Misha said.

“Making more money,” Sasha added.

Hunter huffed. Didn’t they have better things to be doing? “Why don’t you go help Papa or something?”

“Papa has more than enough help,” Misha replied and sipped his coffee. “This looks more interesting.”

“And what about your wife?” Hunter added.

“Helping Eberron in the hangar with Rio.”

Hunter snorted. “We trust Rio with transport repairs now.” Though Brand had given her orders to send Rio along to the hangar if she saw her, Hunter wasn’t sure this was a wise idea. Rio was green and had a tendency to whimper too much if one looked at her crosswise.

Sasha shook his head. “If she wants to pilot, she has to learn to fix it for when she screws up.”

“Like you know, you need to learn to fix the guns you break.” Misha dug at his sister. “Maybe the prospect can teach you.”

Sasha guffawed into his coffee cup.

Hunter stopped at an open field set up with targets. She spun on her toe and looked at Gideon. “This is our obstacle firing range,” she said. “This is my range.” She looked at her brothers. “And I can kick pesky little brothers out any time I want.”

Sasha huffed. “Eleven months and you think you’re boss.”

Hunter crossed her arms.

Misha set his coffee down and brought up one of the guns out of his bracelet.

Hunter glared at him.

“A friendly competition,” Misha said.

Sasha smiled. “We’ll start with ones.”

Hunter looked at Gideon. “You don’t have to put up with this.”

Gideon raised an eyebrow and found a rack to set the guns onto. “I’m fine with it.”

“See. He’s fine with it,” Misha said.

Sasha came over and pounded Gideon’s back. “My kind of man! Yes! Let us wager.”

Hunter scowled.

“We can trade off being the referee. Then you can get your licks in too,” Misha said.

She snarled at him.

Gideon eyed the tops of his boots. He struggled not to grin.

Hunter selected one of her guns. “Fine, I go up against him first.”

“Yes!” Sasha shouted. “I referee!” he said.

Gideon chose a gun and stepped up to the line. He looked over at Hunter. Hunter glared back at him. He jerked his head and his sunglasses came up and a pair of headphones came over his ears. “Don’t go easy on me, ma’am.”

Hunter turned the safety off on her gun and activated her own protective gear. “I didn’t plan on it.”