The next morning, Jim found Slater in the palace courtyard, which had transformed into a bustling temporary operations center. Soldiers moved purposefully among the local guards, their modern uniforms starkly contrasting with the flowing robes and armor of the palace retainers. Servants hurried past with trays and supplies, while aristos lingered at the edges, observing the organized chaos with a mix of curiosity and unease. The entire scene was a surreal clash of eras—ancient stone archways and marble columns serving as the backdrop for modern combat gear and military personnel. It felt almost like stepping onto the set of a mixed Hollywood production.

  "You wanted to see me, sir?" Jim asked.

  Slater put his radio away, picked up some papers off some nearby crates, and looked at Jim. "Yes, I did. I have a job for you."

  "So soon? I was hoping we'd get some time off in Argos."

  "You will, but first you need to go to Seriphos. You're going to free Perseus's mom."

  "Just me?"

  Slater shot him a look. "Not sure if you're being a smartass, but no, not just you. Your squad, Perseus, Medusa...and Ajax Two-Three."

  "An Apache? What, are we expecting a shootout at the O.K. Corral?"

  "If we have to. But the plan is to avoid fighting. Since you used to be a negotiator, we think you can handle this kind of thing. If not...there's always a Plan B."

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

  Jim hesitated, mulling it over. "Medusa and I talked about this last night, but I didn't think we'd go through with it this fast. Why? What's in it for us?"

  "For starters?" Slater's voice was low, almost contemplative as he leaned forward. "Some consolation for the beating we gave him. But more importantly, We need some solidarity with the son of almighty Zeus. Maybe even convince him to join us. But there's a concern."

  Jim raised an eyebrow, sensing the tension in the air. "And that is?"

  Slater reached into his pocket, pulled out a cigarette, and with his other hand, lit it with a practiced flick of his lighter. The flame flickered briefly before he took a slow, deliberate drag. His eyes narrowed as he exhaled, his voice steady with underlying caution. "Maddock and Chang are worried this might attract unwanted attention from the gods. One in particular we really don't want to antagonize."

  Jim's expression shifted to one of disbelief, his mind racing. "Oh, right. And they don't think killing Cetus already pissed him off?"

  Slater gave him a long, hard look. "Oh, I'm sure they know. That was strike one. But this? We don't want this to be strike two." He paused, letting the gravity of the situation sink in before adding, "So, be careful on this one. Understood?"

  A knot tightened in Jim's stomach, his mind spinning with the implications. The pressure to stay focused, to complete the mission was hard enough. But the thought of a conflict with the gods... that was a whole new level of danger.

  "Understood," Jim muttered. The mission loomed larger than ever now, and he had no choice but to carry it out. But the storm brewing in the distance—the one they couldn't see but could already feel creeping up on them—was a threat he couldn't ignore.

  "Can we at least get a few hours to prep? We just finished taking down a giant sea monster."

  Slater stared out at the horizon. "Take all the time you need—wheels up at 0900."