…..CHAPTER 30…..
November 18th
Oliver guided the young woman through the exercises for determining Lattice strength and structure. She was very strong with Matter, could handle and move literal tons. But she had barely any micro control, and these lessons were to help her learn that control, if she could. Not every witch was cut out to handle multiple Aspects of their Element, but he was confident she was one who could. He was going to make a Quint out of her yet.
Nearby he sensed the Fire witches working with their instructor, and it wasn’t going very well. Fire was the most difficult Element to fine tune—much less use in the micro—and it was showing today.
Joe was sick, again. Oliver was starting to worry for the man. Forty-one with type one diabetes and a secondary illness that Oliver wasn’t sure what it was, had felled the poor guy once more.
A new teacher was to be located, so that Joe could focus on healing; he’d heard Oscar talking with Principal Harper about Joe possibly retiring permanently.
Oliver was not that teacher, but his substitute abilities had been called on today. Tomorrow was Saturday. By Monday, they’d have their new teacher.
And on Monday, they would indict Kipling. In another month or so, the trial would begin. Oliver couldn’t wait for the moment when the jury handed back a guilty verdict.
Sixteen years in the making—for Oliver, at least.
It was near the end of the school day now. He was ready to go home with Oscar for the weekend.
“Witch Oliver?”
Oliver looked up, found himself pinned by the hard stare of the man in the suit. Beside him stood a black man in an Army uniform with no less than four stars, a General of some sort, if Oliver remembered ranks correctly. “Yes…sir?”
“You will come with me,” the General said abruptly.
Oliver stood, looking around. There was no one to replace him and he turned back to him. “I’m teaching right now, and I have no one to fill in. What do you want?” That last sentence came out terse and cool.
An eyebrow lifted. “Did you just argue with me, witch?”
Oliver narrowed his eyes. “I’ve been instructed to teach today, and that’s what I’m doing.”
“I gave you a direct order.”
The man’s amber-colored eyes widened a fraction as Oliver stepped up to him despite their wildly differing heights. Oliver didn’t hide his loathing. “Get one thing straight, soldier. I’m not in the military. The only orders I obey are from my Handler.”
“He’s not here,” he said coldly.
“Then I don’t have to obey,” he replied, just as chill. “My Handler is the only one who tells me what to do. Are we clear?” His tone, his words, were mocking of military rank and file, not because he didn’t like military, but because he didn’t like the man’s attitude and clear disrespect for Oliver’s free-will.
The man smiled slowly, lifted his hands and clapped a slow, exaggerated clap. There was a hint of approval in his gaze that Oliver found condescending. “How very loyal, witch. Now come with me.”
Oliver turned his back and plunked down into his chair, ignoring the girl’s wide-eyed shock. “Refocus on the Lattice, Hallie.” He made his tone soothing for her.
She dipped her chin and turned her gaze onto the rock on the table, but he knew her concentration was shot to hell. It took another five minutes to get her back into the mindset necessary.
“Oliver?” Oscar called.
Oliver looked up once again, to find the General standing next to Oscar, who looked amused. The General did not look amused, and the hint of approval might as well have not existed.
“I’ll be right back. I think,” he said to her, rose and strode over to them. He intentionally ignored the man, gaze on Oscar.
Oscar was shaking his head, smiling. But there was warning in his eyes. “Oliver, meet General Lincoln Culver, assistant to the GoA. He requested you come to the conference room.”
“No he didn’t. He just said, ‘you will come with me.’ As I told him, I only follow your orders. You probably should’ve warned him about me. I don’t think he likes independent thinkers.”
Oscar laughed and clapped him on the shoulder as he looked at the man. Oliver didn’t take his gaze from Oscar. By talking about the asshole like he wasn’t there, by ignoring his presence, he was insulting the man, and they all knew it.
“Forgive Oliver, General. His childhood made him leery of those he doesn’t know.”
“I’m fully aware of his circumstances. I’d think he would’ve been trained out of these rebellious tendencies.”
Oliver wanted to look him in the eye and ask, ‘you mean beaten out of them?’ But he refused to break from his stance in order to acknowledge the man.
“If you mean, beaten, think again. Oliver had enough of that as a child,” Oscar murmured. His voice was soft, but there was warning in it. “Oliver is my witch. He’s mine to care for, as I see fit. And I saw fit from the start to treat him with dignity and care for his humanity.”
The man’s mouth tightened. “That explains the loyalty. But will he serve us with equal loyalty?”
“He will if he’s asked. If I ask him, Oliver does just about anything.”
“Asked? Witches are told what to do.”
“I suspect if you asked more often, you’d get better results. Tell me. Do you have a witch in your family or at work?”
He scowled. “No.”
“You’re missing out on an understanding that you don’t have the knowledge to judge, then,” Oscar said, turning to Oliver. “Come on, Oliver. A meeting has been called, and we’re invited.”
Oliver followed without a word, leaving the man behind without a glance. He could feel the angry glare between his shoulder blades.
“What’s this about?”
“A crystal’s gone bad. One of the main ones at the CM base.”
“Shit,” he breathed. The government would call on Lattice trained witches periodically when a crystal became unstable. This wasn’t the first time he’d been called on to realign a crystal. He’d never been to that location before, though. Thus was explained the soldiers.
Because the CM base wasn’t just a base. It was the secret home of the Pentagon. Only the military and major law-enforcement heads—like Oscar—knew this. The Pentagon in D.C. was a front. If the base had a bad crystal, it wasn’t the end of the world, but it would need to be addressed immediately. The place no doubt used a shit-ton of energy.
“When do we leave?”
“Right now. I would’ve come to get you, but I was busy with the representatives, and didn’t know they’d tried until Culver came back looking like someone’d insulted his mother.”
Oliver grinned. “Serves him right.”
“Oliver,” he chided softly.
“I couldn’t help it, Oscar. He rubbed me the wrong way.”
“That’s my line, little bro.”
Oliver snorted and shot him a look. Oscar grinned back.
When they arrived in the principal’s office, all smiles were off, and they were serious as hell. No less than three suits and four military uniforms were present in the tiny room, with Harper behind her desk with a strained look on her face. She looked relieved when they arrived.
“Oliver, thank you for coming,” she said.
He nodded once. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Let’s go,” Culver said, voice curt as he turned away. He hadn’t even come into the office. Good thing too. The place was already bulging with bodies. He wouldn’t fit.
Leaving the Academy behind they piled into several vehicles. Oliver wasn’t happy when their Bureau sedan was invaded by two men in the backseat, one suit and one four-star General who glared at the back of his head the whole trip.
He didn’t miss the fact that Culver was behind him.
The trip to Colorado Springs was over an hour away in good conditions, and these weren’t great. It had snowed the day before and hadn’t gotten above freezing, so ice was an issue. As they were leaving Denver, Oscar called Tracy to tell him he wouldn’t be home for dinner, and might have to stay in the Springs overnight.
Oliver could tell the men in back didn’t care for Oscar’s call.
And he could feel their stares boring holes in his head.