Epic: Book 03 - Hero Read Online Free PDF Page B

sour. “He is as he has always been. I do not miss him.”
    “ The hammer falls heavy on heroes. I, for one, did not blame him.”
    Torokin bowed his head cordially, then extended his hand. “It is always a pleasure, general.”
    Platis accepted it. “The pleasure is mine.”
    With a final nod, the two men parted ways.

    General Platis’s earlier words to Torokin were true. It was indeed no surprise that Thoor was against them. EDEN had been blind to it by choice. But now that was going to change, for better or worse.
    The long-discussed plan had already been set into motion, as overseen by Judge Archer. Black ops personnel were already in place. They’d filtered into Novosibirsk through the guise of base transfers and Academy graduates. Torokin heard there were a dozen agents, but only Kang knew who they were.
    That was the covert part of Command’s espionage efforts. The open part was about to begin. Soon Judges Malcolm Blake and Carol June would visit the renegade Russian facility. They would arrive unannounced; it was meant to catch Thoor unaware. That was for the census—the headcount of who in Novosibirsk was EDEN and who was Nightman.
    The financial audit had begun long ago, courtesy of Judges Rath and Onwuka. In a matter of days, they’d know where Thoor got his goods. Everyone was getting involved.
    Torokin had to hand it to Archer. He had indeed brought the judges together. It had taken recognizing the enemy among EDEN’s own to do it.

    Little else happened that evening. Torokin found Grinkov chatting with Judge Richard Lena, and the three men retired shortly after. There was no vodka or card game of preferans for them that night—after a long week, rest was deserved. Annual conferences had a way of draining everyone, especially the most important men there. All three of the judges had shaken hands with presidents and prime ministers, and bowed their heads graciously each time. But they knew the truth: they were the celebrities to be met. No social camouflage could mask it. They were the judges—the figureheads of Earth. The heroes who defended the human species.
    Heroes that desperately needed to sleep.

    * * *

    Later that night

    Archer passed through the security checkpoint into Confinement, and the guards at post offered salutes. He returned the formalities. “Good evening, gentlemen. I trust you’re well?”
    “ Yes sir,” answered one of the English-speaking guards. “Are you here to see a prisoner?”
    Archer winked amiably. “Interrogations never cease.” Stepping past them, he ventured into Confinement, where a scientist met him.
    “ Good evening, Judge Archer. Something I can help you with?”
    “ No, thank you. I’ll be conducting my own interrogation tonight.”
    “ Very well, sir. We’ve had moderate success with ic-17 lately, at least in getting him to finally warm up. ics 19 and 22 are still giving us problems. I assume you won’t talk to an ib?”
    “ Actually, I’ll be speaking to one of our Bakma guests.”
    The scientist looked surprised. For a moment, he didn’t answer. “As you wish, but I must warn you. They’ve been nothing but headaches. Outside of hearing things we already know, we haven’t progressed.”
    Archer’s response was cordial. “Then there’s a first time for everything.”
    “ Very well, sir. I’ll wake up our translator.”
    “ There’s no need,” Archer said, resuming his walk. “I’ll handle translations myself, alone and off record.”
    “ Yourself, sir?”
    “ Gaas ,” he said without looking back. “That’s Bakmanese for yes.”

    As the door to the Bakma’s cell slid open, the alien flinched from its sleep. The interior lights abruptly cut on.
    The prisoner was frail for a Bakma, but not for a captive. The moment prisoners were placed in their cells, the luxury of physical activity was removed, causing a dramatic loss of muscle. Few prisoners fought to object—it served little purpose without hope of escape.
    “ Hello,