Epic: Book 02 - Outlaw Trigger Read Online Free PDF Page A

Command. It didn’t hurt that Grinkov was the only other Russian.
    Grinkov chuckled under his breath, sliding his thick hands into his suit pockets. “You sound pleased as always.”
    The ambient sound of classical music reverberated from the walls of the ballroom, as a ten-piece orchestra performed from their stage along the back wall. Torokin watched them for a moment. The ensemble members were fortunate, Torokin thought. It was rare that citizens, whether they were musicians or caterers, were invited to EDEN Command. Even custodians needed high security clearance. The location of EDEN Command itself was unknown—even to the judges. All flights to the base were done blind.
    He finally responded to Grinkov. “I hated my inauguration. I wished they would have just let me come in. No music, no celebration. None of it.”
    Grinkov smiled. “Don’t be so hard on yourself.”
    “ Don’t worry.” He shot a look to his counterpart. “I hated your inauguration, too.”
    As the two judges stood side by side, the full capacity of EDEN Command bustled around them. Torokin’s eyes wandered over the room. It was all so unnecessary. The elegant lighting. The formal wear. The champagne. All of it. That was why he hated receptions. They brought out the fake in everyone.
    “ Look,” the larger Grinkov said, motioning to the other side of the room. “There is the man we are here to see. He is with Pauling—it must be him.”
    Torokin followed Grinkov’s gaze across the room, through the weaving throng of attendants and guests. Sure enough, President Pauling was there, with the Canadian Judge Jason Rath predictably at his heels. And beside the two of them stood their guest. The man they were supposed to shower with praise. The late Darryl Kentwood’s successor.
    Judge Benjamin Archer.
    The first word that popped into Torokin’s head was pretty . It was a thought that he meant as insulting. Grinkov had another word in mind.
    “ Is he a judge, or a prince?”
    He was right. Archer was tall and slender. He looked like a prince. His hair, champagne blond and a perfect complement to his countenance, was combed neatly. As Pauling introduced him to another judge, Archer stretched his lips in a smile. Even from a distance, his teeth sparkled white. He looked trained in appearance. Not in war.
    Torokin hated him already.
    “ How old can he be?” Grinkov asked. “He looks young. Upper thirties?”
    That sounded close. And Grinkov was right about something else, without actually saying it: Archer looked like one of the youngest judges there. Judge Shintaku was thirty-three, and after her was Richard Lena at thirty-six. Everyone else was well over forty. Torokin himself was forty-seven. But his body said otherwise. He was as perfectly built as a person could be, despite the relative smallness of his frame. He wasn’t a tower of muscles—he was lightning in a bottle. A bottle so hard it was scary. Standing next to the overweight Grinkov made Torokin look almost godlike.
    Grinkov snagged an hors d’oeuvre from a passing server. He shoved it straight into his mouth. “He probably knows which fork to use first,” he said through a mouthful of food.
    Even Torokin smiled at that one. “He probably does.”

    They watched as Pauling led Archer through the room. As they drew nearer, Pauling’s eyes latched onto the two Russians. As soon as the president smiled, Grinkov hurriedly swallowed his food. “Here they come.”
    Torokin assumed a tenser posture as they approached.
    “ Dmitri! Leonid!” said Pauling. “How are you this evening?”
    Grinkov spoke in English for the first time. “Very good, Mr. President! Judge Torokin and I were just talking about how beautiful it looked in here. We are having a wonderful time.”
    Torokin fought back a smirk.
    “ Yes, yes, they’ve done an outstanding job,” agreed Pauling. “There’s someone I’d like you two to meet.” He stepped to the side, and Archer took a step forward. The