Forty-One
Sierra Nevada Mountains, California
The Eyrie, or what was left of it, was clearly visible from the mountain pass. Once the dust and smoke from the burning helicopter had cleared, the scale of the destruction was clear. Twisted foundations poked out of the blocks of concrete like broken teeth. The stench of burning flesh and aircraft fuel was still detectable. Zanzi had one arm around Reid, the other around Tilly.
“Dad. Come in please… Dad, are you there?”
Silence greeted her plea.
“Dad? Cal?”
Sofia, on her knees a few meters down the trail, was looking across at the same wreckage. Earlier, Zanzi had stared, bewildered, when a double-rotor helicopter landed in the satellite field for less than a minute, then took off, disappearing north over the mountains. Since then, any attempts to raise her parents had come to nothing. Had they perished? The mere thought chilled her to the core.
Reid broke away from Zanzi’s embrace and shouldered his rifle. “We must move. These mountains will soon be crawling with either Black Skulls or Ward’s soldiers.”
“Give us some time to grieve,” Tilly said.
“I wish I could, but if we don’t move, we’ll end up like Booth and Lisa. Like Allie, Ryan and Cal.” Reid pulled the straps of his rucksack tighter.
“They’re not dead,” Zanzi said.
“Who?”
“My parents. That…what did you call it. The huge chopper?”
“Chinook.”
“Right. It landed near where they would be, and then left. They were on it, I’m sure.”
“Be that as it may, we have no way to know where it was going or even who it was,” Reid said. “I’m sorry, Zanzi. I know you’re hurting, but we have to move and put as much distance as we can between us and this cursed place.”
Sofia stood and checked the magazine in her Glock before sliding it back in the holster. She gave Zanzi and Tilly a quick nod. “Sergeant Reid’s right. We must get moving. Reid, scout ahead. We’ll take the trail up to the PCT and down the valley Alpha team used.”
“On it,” Reid said, and jogged up the trail.
Zanzi’s eyes glistened with tears. Sofia grasped her shoulder. “We’ll track down your parents if they got on that Chinook, I promise. I saw an odd marking on the fuselage. We can use that to find them.”
Zanzi wiped her tears with the back of her hand and started to follow Tilly up into the mountains. Her mind was plagued with doubts and turmoil. Even if they could somehow figure out where the Chinook had gone, and who it belonged to, how could she pick up her shattered life? Everything she knew was gone. Her career in biomechanics. Billions of lives. She still had no idea about the status of her friends.
Booth dead. She was going to miss his warmth, his smart-ass remarks, the stories of his adventures.
Allie was either dead or missing. Lisa Omstead. To Zanzi, Lisa had been a second mother. The Connors had spent dozens of weekends together with the Omstead’s, hiking, fishing, camping. She and the director had long shared a love for wildlife photography and preservation. Now Lisa was gone.
Zanzi felt hollow. She gritted her teeth and concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. Her muscles screamed at her with every step, sleep all but a distant memory.
Sofia caught up to her. “You doing okay?”
“Not really. You?”
“No. But in times like this, I hold on to one thing.”
“What? That we’re alive?”
“Yes, but no. We did what we came to achieve. We stopped Offenheim. Hopefully, we’ve thrown a huge spanner in OPIS’s plans. We have to keep moving forward.” Sofia cocked her head, listening. Zanzi frowned and strained her ears but couldn’t detect any foreign noises.
“Reid. SITREP?”
“All clear. No movement.”
“I thought I heard footsteps. Check above.”
“Wilco.”
Sofia, Zanzi and Tilly waited on the trail while Reid did a thorough sweep.
“All clear. No one’s up here,” Reid said.
“Stay frosty.”
They pushed hard for the next hour. As the ranger’s hut came into view, soldiers appeared, rifles ready but barrels pointed at the ground.
“They’re friendlies! My battalion,” Reid said as Zanzi caught sight of 404 sitting on the ground, three soldiers guarding him. She made a mental note to let him know they had regrettably failed to find his file.
Sofia smiled at Zanzi. “We’re going to find them. I promise.”
“I know,” Zanzi said.
She shifted the weight of her MP5 and observed Munroe’s soldiers as she walked toward them. For the first time since all this had begun, Zanzi was comfortable that she had left the scientist in her behind and accepted the soldier she had become. Ryan had trained her for this. She was ready.
Epilogue
The Eyrie, Sierra Nevada Mountains
A biting cold wind blew over the ruins of The Eyrie. It brought with it the pungent scents of burnt metal, wood and paint. Stronger chemical odors hung in the air, mixed with the tang of blood and cordite. Twenty-four hours after the dramatic events that had taken place, soldiers loyal to General Munroe carefully lifted the body bags containing Lisa, Booth, Kamal and Brock, and slid them into the hold of the CH-47 Chinook while Sofia and Zanzi looked on. Allie was still missing in action, presumed dead. Milo stood to one side, observing the sullen operation. Once the remains of the fallen were secured, Zanzi walked forward and draped an American flag over the bags, saluting before she jumped into the Chinook and took a seat.
Sofia turned to Milo, raising her voice to be heard above the warming engines of the helicopter. “The funerals are being held tomorrow, seventeen-hundred-hours, if you want to be there.”
“We’ll be there,” he shouted back. “I may have once been the enemy, but I admired the director for her tenacity and dedication. She somehow managed to navigate this world without guile. For that, I would be honored to attend.”
Sofia gazed at him for a few moments and gestured at Ebony. “You’re responsible, since you’re vouching for him.”
“He saved my life back at the silo, and delivered Daniel to us,” Ebony said.
“True,” Sofia said. “I’m only allowing your search because we need the intel you say you have on the remaining families.”
“I know. It’s here. I kept some things from Offenheim.”
A soldier waved at Sofia and shouted over the noise of the thumping blades, “Ma’am.”
Without another word, Sofia climbed into the Chinook and it lifted into the air. Within minutes it had disappeared out of sight, heading north to Joint Base Lewis-McChord.
***
Milo kicked a piece of concrete, sending it tumbling down the rubble as he tried to make sense of the destruction. For twenty years he had lived and worked here. Now it was gone. He had planned his future in this complex, dreamed of a day when the death and violence would be over and he and Amelia would be free to have the family they had always wished for. But Offenheim had stolen that from him. He kicked another piece of rubble, frustrated.
“Any ideas?” Ebony said. She crouched in the light dusting of snow that covered the girders melted into twisted shapes.
“Some. This is where my office and quarters were. It’s just a matter of how deep they are in this mess.”
“Tell me when to start digging.” Ebony squeezed into the digger they had brought in on the 4x4.
Milo unclipped a large case and carefully extracted the single-rotor drone, which was equipped with a powerful thermal imaging camera. He adjusted the prop, launched it, and spent a few minutes getting used to the controls. Then he sent the drone out in wide circles, searching the rubble with the infrared camera.
“If you’re looking for a body, we could use a cadaver dog,” Ebony said.
“The dead don’t give off heat. Besides, it’s not a body we’re looking for.”
“But it gives off a heat signa
ture?”
“Yes. It’s a strongbox about the same size as a safety deposit box. The security system is powered by a special battery that gives off a unique heat signature. It’s small, but the camera on this drone should pick it up.”
Milo continued to search. The issue was not the strongbox, but the construction materials that had been used. Aluminum and copper threaded into a fine mesh. OPIS and Offenheim, paranoid about espionage, had created Faraday cages for the sensitive areas in the building, such as labs and the operations center. Now it was messing with his camera data. Milo swept the drone away from The Eyrie to check if the infrared was working. He followed the snaking river for a kilometer. Just as he was banking the machine to bring it back to The Eyrie, he caught sight of a large heat signature. Frowning, he joggled the joystick for another pass. His eyes hadn’t deceived him. On the display screen was the outline of a human body, glowing orange and blue.
“Ebony. Look at this. I found someone.”
“Someone?” Ebony leapt from the digger and stared at the screen. “I thought Second Battalion cleared this valley.”
“They did.” Milo switched off the infrared and brought up the high-resolution camera. Taking the drone lower, he blinked in surprise.
“Allie! Holy shit!” Ebony said, voicing Milo’s thoughts.
Without waiting, she took off at a sprint, leaping over shards of concrete and tangled wire mesh as she made her way down to the river. Milo made a few more passes with the drone, confirming that Allie was alive. She was still strapped into the pilot’s seat of the helicopter she had flown, and every couple of seconds, she would kick her feet. Milo activated the long-range radio.
“Control, this is Milo. Do you copy?”
“Loud and clear,” Avondale said.
“We found Allie. She’s alive. Over.”
White noise squelched over the airwaves for a few seconds. “Please confirm. Allie is alive?”
“Affirmative.”
“Sending an evac.”
“Copy that.”
Milo slipped the radio back into his tactical vest and brought the drone back. As it passed over the rubble, it emitted a shrill beep. Milo grinned. He had found the strongbox.
Five minutes later, he had caught up with the running Ebony on an ATV.
Allie’s eyes blinked open when they approached. She made a feeble attempt to unclasp herself while slashing at the air with her Ka-Bar.
“It’s okay, Allie. It’s me, Ebony.”
“Ebony?”
“That’s right. And Milo.” Ebony grasped Allie’s hand and squeezed it tight.
“Water…please,” Allie said.
While she sipped from Ebony’s canteen, Milo cut her free. Allie groaned with relief and flexed her legs and arms. Blood from healed lacerations and wounds had crusted on her BDUs. Any paramedic would be perplexed. Visually, there was no sign of any injuries. Taking her time, she munched on a protein bar that Ebony handed her. “How long was I out?”
“Nearly two days. We thought you were KIA,” Milo said. “Soldiers swept the area too.”
“Did we win?” Allie said, taking another bite.
Ebony grasped Allie’s arm and looked away, finding herself unable to hold Allie’s gaze. She knew what she had to tell her, but even though she hardly knew Lisa or Booth, their loss had hit her hard. “We stopped Offenheim, but…”
“But what?”
“I’m sorry, Allie. Some of us didn’t make it…”
Ebony looked away again, the words she had to say sticking in her throat.
“Lisa and Booth died,” Milo said. “Sorry, kid. I heard you guys were close.”
Ebony whacked his arm and glared at him. There was a gentle way of telling someone devastating news. Milo was too much a hardened soldier, inured to death.
“Brock and Kamal too,” Ebony said.
Allie appeared to take the news well. She stood and looked toward The Eyrie, sitting above the river. Even from this distance, the destruction was visible. Satellite dishes toppled over. Radio masts twisted and broken. The buildings only shells.
“It’s funny, this life,” Allie said, tears welling, “Just when you think you have it figured out, it throws several more curve balls. The pain incapacitated me when OPIS flicked the switch, and I wandered around until the Siphons attacked. Then Ryan intervened and I got caught up in this.” Allie turned to face Ebony and Milo. “Love has a terrible sense of humor. You find it at the most inconvenient times.”
Milo nodded. Love was exactly like that. And life. It found you when you least expected to, then ripped it away again. Haunting visions of Amelia turning to ash in his arms flooded his memory. He clenched his jaw. Milo had ignored his heart once and denied Eva her retribution. He had left East Germany behind and never returned. Never again. He was going to avenge Amelia and the countless other innocent lives ended by the madness he had once been a part of.
“Where’s Booth? I want to see him,” Allie said.
“Fort Lewis near Tacoma,” Ebony said. “That’s not all, though.”
“Who else died?”
“No one. But Ryan and Cal are missing. An unknown helicopter landed and took off. Avondale is hunting for them.”
“Offenheim?”
“Confirmed dead.”
“Well, at least that’s something.”
Allie stretched her back and started walking along the riverbank. Milo started to follow, but Ebony held him back. “Leave her. I’ll watch her. Go find whatever it is you’re searching for.”
“Already have. I’ll dig it out. Avondale’s sending a chopper.”
It took Milo another hour to remove enough of the concrete, metal, timber and sheetrock to reach his strongbox. To most people, the box would look like nothing special, rectangular and painted matt black. What was special was its security system.
Milo opened a flap and punched in a six-digit code on a keypad. This opened a screen, which scanned his face, hand and retina. Another flap opened and Milo placed his thumb on the pad. A tiny pin sprang out, taking his DNA. Several seconds passed before the locking mechanism finally released.
Milo smiled at the bundle of photographs tied with a yellow ribbon on top and slipped them inside his vest. They were the only images he had of his family and Eva. Images of how he liked to remember her: smiling, sun shining through her hair as she showed him whatever bug she had found that day in the garden. Milo dug through the other contents, ignoring them, and pulled out a dull red folder. Years of spying and research had given him the information it held. Insurance for the day he might need it. A day like today.
He looked up at the sound of footsteps and waved to Ebony and Allie as the expected chopper broke through the clouds and landed with a bump. An Army medic rushed over to Allie and led her into the hold.
“Did you get it?” Ebony asked.
Milo patted his rucksack. “In here.”
“Good. I hope I never see this place again. Once was enough.”
Milo grunted, saying nothing as the UH-72 Lakota lifted off, whipping swirls of snow and grit over the ruins of The Eyrie. For twenty years, this had been his home, an evil place in a picturesque setting.
***
A lone piper escorted the coffins of Lisa Omstead and Peter Booth, its haunting melody adding to the somber occasion as the military guard of honor, led by Sofia, Avondale and Zanzi made its way to the crematorium. The funerals passed in a blur for Zanzi. The Chaplin spoke. A lone bugler played Taps. Rifles were fired in a salute, and the flags that had covered their coffins were folded and handed to Sofia and herself.
Once all the soldiers had left, General Munroe met Zanzi and the other LK3 survivors inside the crematorium. They each raised a glass of scotch and said a few words. As the coffins were taken to the furnace, Zanzi placed an ice-fishing reel on Lisa’s and a football on Booth’s, to remember them as she wanted to: Lisa, the woman who had been a second mother to her, teaching her fishing techniques to catch salmon and trout; Booth, a man w
ho had always been ready with a crazy story or a joke, his passion for the NFL, and the hours they had spent throwing a football around. She was going to miss their guidance, warmth and company.
Later, they shared a meal at Munroe’s house. More scotch was drunk. There was laughter and more tears shed. At length, Zanzi found herself alone with the general, sitting on a swing seat on his front porch while Old Glory fluttered in the evening breeze.
“She talked about you often,” Munroe said.
“Lisa?”
“Aye. She told me out of all the people she recruited, you were the best.”
“I was never recruited. I joined LK3 as a scientist.”
“Maybe so.” Munroe chuckled and swirled his glass of scotch. “Maybe so. But she saw it in you. I’ve commanded hundreds of soldiers, Zanzi Connors, probably thousands. Seen good men and women come and go, serving our nation. But every so often I see special ones, those who fight not because they want to, but because they must. They fight for what’s good in this world. Freedom. Equality. Choice.” Munroe sighed, and shifted his weight. “OPIS took away our choice, and without hesitation, you fought. Not only for you but for everyone. Lisa, God bless her, was right.”
“I don’t know about that,” Zanzi said shyly. “I’m doing what anyone would have done.”
In truth, Zanzi was stunned that both Lisa and Munroe thought so highly of her. All she had wanted to do was help people, work with prosthetics to enrich the lives of the men and women who had sacrificed so much. She wasn’t a soldier.
“I’m not my parents, Sofia, or Booth.”
“Maybe that’s why. You’re something else.” Munroe finished his drink and stood. “We’ll find them, but first this old man needs sleep. Here. Lisa left you this.” The general handed Zanzi an envelope, slightly crinkled.
Zanzi smiled and hugged Munroe. Once he’d left, she pulled out the pages and cast her eyes over the neat cursive writing.
Zanzi,
When I was a young soldier, we were encouraged to write letters in case of our death in combat. Since then, I have carried on the tradition. Therefore, if you are reading this, I didn’t make it back from the mission. I wanted you to know, more than anything, that I thought of you and Liam as my own children. You should be proud of everything you have achieved. I always admired how you coped with Liam’s passing, and Cal’s disappearance. Give your mother time. You may not understand her reasons, but often it is hard for us to do so. Trust your father. He is one of the most honorable people I have known, and he will fight with everything he has. Lastly, believe in yourself, Zanzi. Face everything without skepticism. Have faith in your strengths. Act with compassion.
Masks of Ash Page 32
