Free Brigends (The Final War Series Book 1) by Russell Krone

the Zolarian facility. There’s been a lot of activity. Even that bastard Orock showed up for a while.” She waited. “By the way, Chadwick and Bronson are dead. Hunters got the drop on us.”
    The loss of the young men ripped at her conscience, as did every man or woman she had ever lost under her command. This time, though, their deaths served to compound a stronger grief.
    “It’s a good thing you made it home safe.”
    She continued, ignoring his support. “Whatever they’re planning, it’s going to happen soon.”
    “Suggestions?”
    “I don’t know. It would help if you told me what you are sensing.”
    “I could, but then you wouldn’t be able to see the larger picture.”
    She stopped and stared at him with a familiar frustrated expression. Zoe hated when he wouldn’t answer with straight answers. She suspected he enjoyed annoying her. “I hate it when you do that.”
    “I know,” he grinned. “But, you’ll have to trust me. If I were to explain everything, we would be here for days.”
    She didn’t want to hear that excuse, but accepted it nonetheless. “My suggestion, as captain of the guard, we do what we always do — hunker down and wait things out.”
    “Wise action.”
    Leaning against the table, her pretense of strength faltered and her eyes watered. It wasn’t the death of her guys filling her with despair.
    “Zoe, what’s wrong?”
    She couldn’t hold back and the tears flowed. He was about to stand and go to her when she rushed over and knelt in front of him, burying her head in the blanket on his lap. The breakdown caught him by surprise.
    “It’s the hunters.”
    “What happened?”
    She told him how Chadwick and Bronson died, and how she fought the hunters responsible. But, it was the boy who caused her the greatest distress.
    The Old Man listened.
    “He could’ve killed me. I’m nothing to him, but money to be collected.”
    He touched her cheek with his palm and felt the heat of her tears. At first she didn’t react to his caress, but soon she put her hand on top of his and held it in place.
    “He let me go.”
    “His heart kept him from doing it. He did the right thing.”
    “I guess I should be grateful.”
    “Good, because I am.”
    He could feel the muscles in her face form a smile. She looked up at him. He wiped the wetness from her cheeks.
    “I know these years have been tough for you. For that I’m sorry. You’ve always been the strong one.”
    “I don’t feel strong.”
    “Oh, my dear, but you are. Even when you were that sickly girl I found wandering the streets, I could see the strength within you. It was a beacon, calling out to me.”
    She reached up and hugged him. He wrapped his arms around her and they stayed that way for a while.
    Sensing her heart renewed, he gambled with what he had to say next. “While you were gone, something did happen.”
    “What?”
    “The what of the matter is not important.”
    “Tell me.”
    “I have to ask more from you,” he said carefully. “I’m afraid you’re not going to like it. It involves the boy.”
    She tried to pull away, but he clutched her hands and held them tight. “He has a part to play in what will soon happen.”
    “No, don’t you dare —”
    “Please, listen to me. I told you this day would come.”
    Zoe cheated and used her strength to pull away, but she didn’t leave the room. She folded her arms and roamed as he explained the situation. Divulging too much information would have been an action contrary to his character, so he gave her only what he deemed necessary for her comprehension.
    She stood in front of the wrinkled forgery of Rosso Fiorentino’s The Holy Family with the Infant John the Baptist , letting its disproportionate sadness converge with her own. The bewildering disconnection between the infant John and the Holy Mother embodied spiritual regrets. Within the eloquent brushstrokes of the virgin’s expression was a mirror of Zoe’s own reality.
    If she didn’t love