POV: john-west
Summary
John slumps against the saferoom wall as the shock catches up with him. Jen alive. Maybe some alternate-dimension version of her. He can't stand to look at her face again, not yet. Ealstan takes his arm, worried; neither of them dares speak with the door so close.
Inside, the door bangs. Quinn is back — *boss, big problem, Vikings, a lot of them, lightning blew the gates, full-on invasion.* Ulric takes it with mild annoyance. *How long until the portal is ready, Marta?* Five or ten minutes. *Closer to five unless you want to end up on the wrong end of a Viking's sword.* He tucks the beacon into his pocket — *can we send for more soldiers?* — and is told no, not until the portal is up; information does not travel beacons. He stops asking and walks out with Quinn and the two riflemen, leaving Marta alone with the prisoners and the half-built portal rig.
John and Ealstan go around to the door, have his wight pop the lock, and walk in. Marta looks up, sees John, and relaxes — *didn't know you were on this job, Johnny* — and asks him to hand her a box from the backpack. He does. *Boss wants me to deal with these two,* he says, gesturing at Ryan and Jen. *Please do it outside,* Marta says. *You know how I feel about that nastiness.* Ealstan cuts the ropes; John mimes herding the prisoners at gunpoint out the door. *You are friends with many, Runian,* Ealstan whispers. *Their affection serves you well.* John tells him flatly they don't like him; they think he's harmless.
Outside, Ryan exhales relief and thanks him: they were ready for him somehow. John tells him Ulric needed the beacon and set the trap. *Impossible,* Ryan says. The beacon didn't work for him — Ulric couldn't have predicted he'd come in alone. *Where did you get that beacon?* Rembrandt at the precinct armory. John groans. *Rembrandt is crooked, Ryan. He's been on Ulric's payroll for years.* *Why didn't you say?* *How was I supposed to know that's where you got your tech?* The locked beacon worked exactly as intended — to keep Ryan stuck inside long enough for Ulric to grab him.
And then there is no more avoiding the woman standing next to Ryan, looking embarrassed. *Uh, hey, Johnny.* Hell. It is her. *Ryan,* he says, *you'd better explain this bullshit.* Ryan starts in with the operational reason — needed a medievalist, Jen always wanted to see a place like this, had her infiltrate six months ago. John says flatly: *she had her accident six months ago.* Jen takes Ryan's arm. The look in their eyes. Oh, hell. *How long were you two cheating on me?* *From the second week,* Jen admits. The whole relationship. *Why would you say yes to me, if you were going to be with him in secret?* *You're so sweet. I wanted to see how it worked out.* *I'm not sweet — I'm literally a gangster.* He realizes the rest: she didn't have an accident, she faked her death. *Not exactly,* she says — she was going under for years, told everyone she was leaving, her grandmother (who detested him) told him she was dead when he texted, and she let the misunderstanding stand because it was easier. *Easier for who?* *I didn't want to hurt your feelings.* *You didn't want to hurt my feelings, so you let me think you were dead?*
Ryan cuts in: they needed John's connection to Ulric and whatever he might tell Jen. *I was just the door guard!* John yells. *She knew more than I did!* And then, calmly, Ryan speaks his voice code and rekeys the P-330 back to himself. *Sorry, Johnny. Ulric took my rifle. And you're acting a tad erratic.* Jen tries the *don't be mad, please?* He throws his hands up. He tosses the gun. Ryan catches it and slips back into the bunker to secure the portal.
Jen stands there awkward and tries once more. *Sorry, Johnny. You were always so intriguing. Ryan's great, but… he doesn't even butter his toast. Too unhealthy.* She smiles at him — the smile that has always worked. Today, nothing. Just leftover anger.
The bunker door opens. Marta is now bound on the floor; blue light hovers over the portal. *Let's go,* Ryan says, waving them in. *Jen's compromised. I've set the portal to PD HQ to report in.* *You'd leave Ulric here,* John says, incredulous. *You want to try to stop him on your own? Don't be stupid, Johnny. You're you. Besides, Viking invasion, happening right now. We'll come back later — if he survives.* Jen hops through; Ryan shoves a bound Marta through; pauses at John. *Nice work today. I'm sure I can get you off, if you're finally willing to testify. You'll do that for me, won't you, bud?* *Sure. Bud.* Ryan grins and steps through.
John flips the power switch on the rig. Ealstan stands behind him, arms folded, frowning into the bearded confusion. *Once again — those are your friends?* *I thought they were. I didn't have a good frame of reference.* *The stories of aelvs may have been exaggerated. They are not much smarter or better than the rest of us.* *Wise words.* What do they do about the Hordamen? John doesn't know. Ulric still has the beacon — the door for outsiders into this place — and whatever else happens, they need to grab it and break it.
They go out to find him and stop two paces past the saferoom door. Hordamen are pouring through the streets to their left, chasing beleaguered defenders into the city square. And standing alone in the center of that square, between the flood and the people, unarmed: Sefawynn.