Page 62 of Dark Destiny: The Fates' Bargain

"That's not information you need." Kian kept his voice even. "We will make it so no one can trace where the attack came from. The idea is to make it look as if you arranged it with some mercenary force you command outside the Brotherhood. The impact of this demonstration will keep you in power with no need for compulsion."

He heard Losham draw a slow breath. "My private army," he said, sounding like he used to before the clan had pulled the rug from under his feet. "I have resources the Brotherhood never knew about, loyal only to me, with reach across the sea." He chuckled. "They'll be terrified. Every commander on the island will spend the rest of his life wondering whether he's next, and none of them will ever move against me again, because they'll have watched what happens to those who did."

"You are welcome. There are things you'll need to get right on your end, starting with the pretext for the conference, which has to be convincing. If these men suspect a trap, they will not show up."

"Don't worry about my part. I know these males and how to play them."

Funny how cooperative he suddenly was.

"Prepare the list of targets," Kian said.

"I'll have it ready for you for your next call. What else do you need from me?"

Turner read the list of items they had discussed. "It's important to ensure that no one knows you are consulting the construction plans for the building, or they will suspect something. Can you do that discreetly?"

"It will take me some time, but I will have the numbers for you by next week." Losham sounded confident now that he had a future to look forward to.

"We'll be in touch. Good luck, Losham." Kian motioned for Onegus to terminate the call.

"I'm optimistic," Lokan said. "Once this mission is accomplished, we will be a step closer to taking the island. The real work will begin the day after, though. We'll have over ten thousand warriors and a whole population that needs to be turned into something other than what the Brotherhood made it."

"Are you planning the rehabilitation of ten thousand brainwashed killers?" Kian asked.

"We have to do something with them." Lokan spread his hands. "I don't have the answer yet, but I intend to find one. Those men were made, and what's made can be unmade."

"Put them all in stasis," Onegus suggested, deadpan. "Problem solved."

"We don't have the means to put ten thousand immortals in stasis," Lokan said, missing or ignoring the sarcasm. "And even if we did, that's just storage, not a solution. But I'll think of something."

After the meeting ended and everyone had said their goodbyes and clapped each other on the back on the way out, Kian stayed in his chair.

Lokan wanted to save the island. He wanted to turn ten thousand conditioned killers and a population raised in bondage into something resembling a free society. It was the kind of dream that did credit to the man who envisioned it, but it was a pipe dream.

Kian had seen enough of the Brotherhood and the monsters it produced. He'd fought them for two thousand years. They weren't soldiers who'd been misled to believe in a false god and evil ideology. They were creatures rebuilt from the ground up around obedience and cruelty. They didn't fear death, and they didn't dream of better lives for themselves. They were turned into rabid, diseased dogs who only wanted to kill and destroy in the cruelest ways imaginable.

There were exceptions, of course, like Kalugal and his men, like Lokan, Dalhu, and Robert, but they were few.

Most of the rank and file would use freedom to do worse things than even what they had been commanded to do by the Brotherhood. He'd seen the evidence of that in Mexico, where a group of them operated independently of the Brotherhood, taking over the drug cartels' territory.

The civilian population of the island wouldn't know what to do with freedom either. Slave mentality didn't dissolve just because the new owner freed them, declaring that their slavery was over.

23

ANNANI

Alena had insisted on driving the golf cart herself, which meant they had arrived at the clinic in a series of small lurches.

"Is there a difference between driving a car and a golf cart?" Annani asked as she waited for Alena to come around to her side and offer her a hand down, not because she needed help, but because hopping down was undignified for the Clan Mother.

Alena grimaced. "I didn't think so, but apparently I was wrong. I will do better on the way back."

"I am sure you will." Annani accepted her daughter's hand and gracefully stepped down with no hopping involved.

"Good morning, Clan Mother, Alena," Bridget said and motioned for them to follow her. "Not much to see yet."

"I know," Annani said. "I just need to see him every day even if I do not know which one of the five he is."

When they reached the converted operating room, it looked the same as it had the day before, and the day before that. Five beds.Five monitors, their rhythms slightly stronger now, or perhaps it was just her wishful thinking.