CHAPTER 45: MUTUAL SUSPICION
The Old West smelled like horses and inevitability—the Legion had been here too, and I knew exactly where.
1876, Arizona Territory. Jonah Hex's stomping grounds, according to the show's geography. The Legends had worked with him before—a scarred bounty hunter with a grudge against Quentin Turnbull and a complicated relationship with time travelers.
The aberration was straightforward enough: someone had provided Turnbull's gang with automatic weapons, disrupting the balance of power in the region. The usual Legion playbook—destabilize an era, hunt for Spear fragments in the chaos, let the Legends clean up the mess.
Except I know which mess they'll make, I thought. And I know where the cleanup will matter most.
"The weapons cache is in the canyon approximately three miles northeast," I reported, studying the tactical display. "Turnbull's men are using it as a staging point for raids on local settlements."
Sara nodded. "How do you know it's there specifically?"
"Geological analysis. The canyon has natural concealment from aerial observation, water access for extended occupation, and only two viable approach routes. If I were hiding a weapons cache in this terrain, that's where I'd put it."
"That's very specific reasoning."
"That's my job."
She accepted the explanation, but Zari's eyes lingered on me a moment longer than necessary. The new Legend had been watching me since her arrival—not obviously, not aggressively, but with the systematic attention of someone trained to notice patterns.
She's analyzing my information sources, I realized. Checking whether my "analysis" matches reality.
The mission proceeded with reasonable efficiency. We located the cache exactly where I'd predicted, engaged Turnbull's forces, destroyed the anachronistic weapons. Standard procedure, competently executed.
What wasn't standard was Zari's position during the engagement. She stayed close to me—not protectively, but observationally. When I called out an ambush location before we could see it, her attention sharpened. When I predicted the enemy's retreat route with uncomfortable accuracy, she filed the observation away.
"You knew," she said afterward, as we secured the perimeter. "Before we saw them. You knew exactly where they'd be."
"I analyzed the terrain. They had limited options."
"Nobody analyzes terrain that fast." Her voice carried no accusation—just clinical curiosity. "I've worked with intelligence operatives. The best ones. They don't have your hit rate."
"Maybe I'm better than them."
"Maybe." She didn't look away. "Or maybe you're getting information from somewhere you shouldn't be able to."
The direct approach. I appreciated it more than I should have.
"What are you suggesting?"
"I'm not suggesting anything. I'm observing." She leaned against a weathered fence post, arms crossed. "I grew up in a surveillance state. I know what it looks like when someone has access to data they shouldn't have. You have that look."
"A look."
"A pattern. Small tells. The way you anticipate questions before they're asked. The way you position yourself to observe rather than participate. The way your 'analysis' is always just slightly too accurate to be analysis."
She's good, I thought. Really good. Better than Sara at pattern recognition, maybe better than Rip.
"What do you want me to say?"
"The truth would be nice. But I'll settle for acknowledgment." She uncrossed her arms. "You're running some kind of game, Shane Bennett. I don't know what it is yet. But I will."
"And when you figure it out?"
"Depends on what I find." Her expression was unreadable. "If you're working against this team, I'll expose you. If you're working for something I can understand, maybe we can talk."
Honest. Direct. Threatening without being hostile.
I could have deflected. Could have doubled down on the cover story, manufactured explanations, redirected her attention elsewhere. But something about Zari's directness demanded a different response.
"I'm not working against the team," I said. "Everything I do here helps the Legends accomplish their missions."
"That's not the same as being on our side."
"No. It's not." I met her eyes. "But it's also not a threat to you or anyone on this ship."
"Your word."
"My word."
She considered this for a long moment. The Arizona sun beat down, horses stamped impatiently, the sounds of the team finishing cleanup drifted from the canyon behind us.
"I don't trust easily," she said finally. "I've seen too many people say the right things while doing the wrong ones."
"I'm not asking for trust. I'm asking for time."
"Time to do what?"
"To prove that whatever I'm running—and I'm not saying I'm running anything—isn't something you need to worry about."
Zari's laugh was brief, bitter. "You want me to give you time to hide whatever you're hiding."
"I want you to give me time to decide whether you're someone I can share it with."
The honesty surprised both of us. I hadn't planned to say that—hadn't planned to acknowledge that there was anything to share. But Zari's directness had cut through the calculated responses, leaving something rawer underneath.
"That's either the smoothest manipulation I've ever heard," she said, "or the first honest thing you've said since I got on this ship."
"Maybe both."
"Maybe." She pushed off from the fence post. "Fine. I'll watch. You'll know I'm watching. And if I see anything that threatens this team, we're done being civil."
"Fair enough."
"It's not fair at all." She started walking toward the extraction point. "But it's the best deal either of us is going to get."
The ride back to the Waverider was quiet. Sara debriefed the mission; Ray expressed optimism about their progress against Turnbull; Mick complained about the heat. Normal team dynamics, processing a normal successful mission.
Zari sat apart from the group, her attention divided between a technical manual and occasional glances in my direction. She wasn't hiding her surveillance—she'd made that clear. This was open observation, an explicit acknowledgment that I was being evaluated.
Being watched isn't new, I reminded myself. Sara's been watching since Rip left. Rip watched before that. Snart watched when he was alive—or when the team thought he was.
But Zari's watching felt different. More professional. More likely to produce results.
[RELATIONSHIP STATUS — ZARI TOMAZ]
[— CURRENT: MUTUAL SUSPICION]
[— HER ASSESSMENT: UNKNOWN THREAT LEVEL]
[— MY ASSESSMENT: HIGH-VALUE POTENTIAL ALLY]
[— APPROACH: MAINTAIN COMPETENCE, ACCEPT SURVEILLANCE, REVEAL SELECTIVELY IF CORNERED]
The strategy felt thin. Zari wasn't someone I could manage with standard techniques—she'd seen too much, learned to recognize manipulation too well. If I wanted her as an ally eventually, I'd need to earn it through something resembling genuine trust.
Trust requires vulnerability. Vulnerability requires risk.
I wasn't sure I was capable of that kind of risk anymore. The system, the empire, the constant calculation of resources and threats—it had reshaped how I processed human connection. Every relationship was potential recruitment. Every interaction had strategic implications. Even this moment of introspection felt like performance, like I was rehearsing thoughts for an audience that might never see them.
Ray asked if I was optimizing instead of living. Zari just proved his point.
The Waverider landed. The team dispersed to their quarters. I retreated to my own space, interface displaying the usual metrics: territories stable, agents active, resources accumulating.
But Zari's attention tracked me across the ship—I could feel it, that pressure of being observed by someone competent enough to matter. She'd found something. Not everything, not yet, but enough to know there was something to find.
The game is getting more complicated, I thought. And the players are getting better.
My interface updated with a new intelligence report from Snart:
[INCOMING — AGENT: LEONARD SNART]
[PRIORITY: STANDARD]
[MESSAGE: LEGION ACTIVITY DETECTED — 1870s ARIZONA TERRITORY]
[DETAIL: SECONDARY OPERATION CONCURRENT WITH LEGENDS MISSION]
[TARGET: UNKNOWN — POSSIBLY SPEAR FRAGMENT]
[NOTE: THEY WERE WATCHING YOU TOO]
The Legion had been in Arizona while we were there. Watching the same territory, hunting their own objectives, operating in parallel without intersection.
Everyone's watching everyone, I realized. The Legion watches the Legends. Zari watches me. I watch everything. And somewhere in the timeline, the Time Bureau watches us all.
The game continued. The complications multiplied.
And in the corner of my vision, my empire kept growing.
Author's Note / Support the Story
Your Reviews and Power Stones help the story grow! They are the best way to support the series and help new readers find us.
Want to read ahead? Get instant access to more chapters by supporting me on Patreon. Choose your tier to skip the wait:
Noble ($7): Read 10 chapters ahead of the public.
Royal ($11): Read 17 chapters ahead of the public.
Emperor ($17): Read 24 chapters ahead of the public.
Weekly Updates: New chapters are added every week. See the pinned "Schedule" post on Patreon for the full update calendar.
Join here: patreon.com/Kingdom1Building