Rhino walked over to the chalkboards. Felipe had already racked up several wins, and he was fighting now. With his staff, he swept his opponent’s legs. Then he pounced like a Siren.
The drill sergeant let Felipe get in a few punches before finally calling the match. Felipe jumped to his feet, arms raised in victory. Then he saw Rhino watching.
Rhino offered a nod of approval and beckoned him over.
Felipe ran over, panting. “Mi general,” he said politely.
The kid’s change in attitude caught Rhino by surprise. “¡Muy bien!” he said. “You look good out there, but next time maybe keep your staff ready before pouncing like a tiger, just in case he’s got a knife.”
“Right,” Felipe replied. “I will be more cautious next time.”
Rhino gave him a slap on the back. The young man turned back to his training, then hesitated.
“General,” he said, “my mom said my dad loved you and that he would be pissing on me from the afterlife if he saw how I behaved the other day.”
“Is that an apology?”
Felipe swallowed. “Sí. Lo siento.”
“Your dad was a good man, and you’ll be a fine man, too. Now, go kick some more ass.”
Rhino stuck around for a few more fights. These youngsters were the future of the crumbling Cazador army and, perhaps, the human race. Soon they would be sent off to the proving grounds to test their mettle against the mutant beasts that prowled the surface. But maybe they should be training to fight the metal gods instead.
He finally left the young warriors and climbed the ladder to the command center for a meeting he was dreading.
Several Praetorian Guards patrolled the deck with rifles. Seeing Rhino, they came to attention, and he gave them all nods. He could have his own detachment of warriors following him around, but he wasn’t Colonel Vargas.
On the bridge, several officers worked the graveyard shift in the open space. They looked up at him from the glow of their workstations and exchanged nods with Rhino as he continued to the briefing room.
Carmela was the first person he saw inside, with that ridiculous bird perched on her shoulder. Flanking her were Colonels Forge and Vargas.
“Ah, General, so nice of you to join us tonight!” Carmela said. “Did King Xavier grant you a bathroom break?”
Normally, such disrespect would have cost a lower-ranked officer’s head, but Carmela knew she could get away with it because the king had shown mercy.
“I’m here to deliver an update on General Santiago’s mission with Star Grazer,” he growled. “But you may want to tidy up first, Colonel.”
The smirk evaporated from Carmela’s weathered features as she looked down at the small white and gray blob on her armored shoulder.
Rhino walked over to the wide metal table with maps draped across its surface. He stood at the head while the three colonels took their seats.
He looked at their faces in turn. Colonel Forge locked his iron jaw, revealing no emotion. Forge had once been a good friend, a man Rhino respected on the battlefield just as much as at the table of Black Order of the Octopus Lords.
But it was obvious in Forge’s smoldering gaze that he resented being passed over for a promotion. Perhaps he was yet another Cazador who thought Rhino had betrayed his people by serving X in such a manner.
Of the two men, it was Vargas who really hated Rhino. With his beakish nose, protruding eyes, and Mohawk hair, he looked a lot like the bird on Carmela’s shoulder. He kept his gaze on Rhino, trying to show strength.
It didn’t work.
Vargas was known and feared for his viciousness on and off the battlefield, but Rhino had seen him fight, and he lacked skill, making up for it with brute force. It was one of the main reasons el Pulpo had liked him—both men were psychotic.
Rhino would have executed Vargas after the battle that killed el Pulpo, but X had decided to let him serve after he swore allegiance. In his view, killing Vargas would cause more problems than it would solve.
That had been a mistake.
Carmela finished cleaning off her shoulder. “We can dispense with the big-dicking,” she said, seeing the men staring. “Tell us about the mission, General.”
The officers took a seat while Rhino went to the maps and put his finger on the fuel outpost. “Bloodline has been destroyed.”
“What!” Carmela jerked in her seat, causing the bird to flap its wings. “How?”
“We don’t know yet,” Rhino said. “I only know that when General Santiago arrived, the station was destroyed, and they had to airlift tankers inland to fuel up. They were attacked by the oil serpents that live in the pipeline.”
“They came that far inland?”
“They did.”
Carmela stared down at the map. “How bad is it?”
“We lost a tanker and ten soldiers.”
“Then we’re down to three warships, not counting Elysium, and just under a thousand soldiers,” Forge said.
Kotchee squawked.
“The bird says we’re fucked,” Vargas said. “I think it’s right.” He let out a cackling laugh that made Kotchee move to Carmela’s other shoulder, away from the demented man.
“You’re failing us, Small Dog,” Vargas said. “King Xavier was wrong to make you general.”
Rhino stepped around to Vargas’s side of the table.
“The only thing he got wrong was not slitting your neck from ear to ear,” Rhino said. “You want to take my place, feel free to challenge me. I’ll take your face and swap it for Warthog’s.”
Vargas stood up to meet Rhino’s gaze. “Your time is coming, you half-blood fish-fucker,” he snarled.
The insults didn’t bother Rhino as much as they probably should.
“You already used your rights under the Black Order to try and take me out,” Rhino said. He glanced at Carmela. “Look how that turned out. Guess you’ll have to stab me in the back instead.”
“Let’s all just ease up,” Colonel Forge said. He eyed the other officers in turn, stopping on Vargas last.
“You may not like it, but General Rhino isn’t the only one who signed a peace treaty with King Xavier,” Forge said. “General Santiago also shook on the deal.”
Carmela gave a resigned nod, but Vargas didn’t seem to care.
“General Santiago is a Cazador, but Rhino here is worse than a half-blood,” he said. “You are in bed with the sky vermin, Perrito.”
Forge’s nostrils flared in anger. Even he knew that Vargas had gone too far.
The tension in the air was palpable, and Rhino thought of flicking out his knife and jamming it through one of those crazed eyes. But if he did, Carmela—and probably Forge too—would jump in. He didn’t want to risk fighting all three officers here, especially without the blessing of the king, who had the final say on executions. But the time would soon come when Vargas and Carmela again tried to kill Rhino—if not through the Black Order, then while he slept or shat. God, what he would give to have Whale, Fuego, and especially Wendig at his side right now.
Before Vargas could react, Rhino had a hand wrapped around his veiny neck. Leaving his knife hand free, he lifted the colonel off the deck.
Carmela and Forge both moved closer, but neither went for a weapon.
“I should break your windpipe and toss you to the Octopus Lords,” Rhino snarled, his spittle flecking Vargas’s face. The smaller man’s feet kicked uselessly in the air, and he gripped the massive forearm with both hands as it clamped down tighter around his neck.
The eyes bulged even more.
“Put him down, General,” Forge said. “This is not the way to victory.”
“Fuck that,” Rhino replied as Vargas’s face went red. “Showing disrespect to a superior officer is punishable by death. You should keep that in mind too, Colonel Moreto.”