Strike

by D. J. MacHale

  We stepped in to see that SYLO had already thought this through. Hanging from a rack in the middle of the floor were three uniforms.

  SYLO uniforms.

  “No way,” I said without thinking.

  The aide shrugged and said, “Your call. You’re either on the team or you’re not. Ten minutes.”

  He left and closed the door behind him.

  The three of us were left alone, staring at the uniforms of the people who had invaded our home, hunted us down, and killed Tori’s father.

  “I know they’re the good guys,” Kent said. “But, I don’t know. You spend so much time hating somebody it’s hard to just . . . let it go.”

  Tori walked up to the rack and touched the deep red camouflage material as if it were more than just cloth. I knew where her head was because mine was right there with her. Our thoughts were back on Pemberwick Island, reliving the invasion where SYLO teams dropped from helicopters and landed on the beach. I flashed on memories of soldiers patrolling the streets, standing guard over us at the camp and chasing down runaways. The memory of Captain Granger shooting a runner had been playing in my head for weeks. It was right up there with the image of SYLO gunships firing down on the camp of rebels and killing Mr. Sleeper.

  Tori touched the green-and-yellow rising-sun patch on the arm of the uniform, running her finger over the embroidered black letters: SYLO.

  “Sequentia yconomus libertate te ex inferis obedienter,” she said softly, thoughtfully.

  “These guardians obediently protect us from the gates of hell,” Kent added.

  “Question is,” Tori continued. “Do we see them as the force that destroyed our lives? Or our only shot at salvation?”

  “I have to be honest,” I said. “Granger. The killings. My head says one thing but my heart says another.”

  “It feels a little like making a pact with the devil,” Kent said.

  Tori took a deep breath, blew it out, stood up straight, and said, “Well then get over it. Both of you. Like it or not, we’re the guardians now.”

  She pulled one of the uniforms off of the hanger and added, “And I’m not going to be left behind.”

  That was the kicker. We weren’t going to be left behind. Whatever we thought about the way SYLO acted on Pemberwick Island, without them the Sounders would fail.

  I looked to Kent. He shrugged and said, “You heard her.”

  Five minutes later we were dressed in the deep red camouflage fatigues of our former enemy. As alien as it felt, there was also a sense that in some strange way, it was right. In spite of what had unfolded on Pemberwick Island, we were the guardians now. Kent even went for the beret.

  Tori lifted her pulser to feel its weight. We each had one. None of us felt confidant carrying a standard Navy weapon. They were so . . . crude.

  “At least SYLO didn’t have these weapons on Pemberwick,” she said. “We probably wouldn’t be here if they did.”

  “How do I look?” Kent asked. “Like a badass?”

  “No. Just a regular ass,” I said. “Lose the beret.”

  He quickly yanked it off. “Man, pregame. The butterflies are jumping. I gotta find a can.”

  He rushed off deeper into the building in search of a bathroom, leaving Tori and me alone.

  I stood there watching her as she laced up the low black boots. It flashed me back to the time Quinn and I watched her load up her father’s pickup truck and expertly tie down the tarp to cover the day’s catch of lobsters. She was an enigma to me then, and in some ways she still was. She dealt with loss by shutting herself off from people, because she felt the only person she could fully rely on was herself. Still, she opened up to me. Even the strongest of people sometimes need to know they aren’t alone. If I had any regrets over anything I’d done since leaving Pemberwick it would be for the few times I let her down.

  “When this is over,” I said. “Are we going to stay together?”

  Tori looked at me with a mix of confusion and humor. “What are you asking, Tucker? You want to like, get married or something?”

  “No! No. God no. I just meant that after all that’s happened I can’t imagine not being with you. And seeing as you’ve lost so much, well, I don’t want you to think that you’re going to be alone.”

  “So you feel sorry for me?”

  “No, jeez, it’s more like we’re not just friends, we’re family.”

  “So you want me to be your sister?”

  “You’re killing me here.”

  Tori laughed. She was messing with me. She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around me. I hugged her close.

  “I know what you’re saying,” she said. “It’s hard to look past today, but whatever happens, I can’t imagine a future without you either. It’s kind of what keeps me going.”

  That made me hug her even tighter.

  “I don’t want you to come today,” I said. “I’m not so sure I’d be going myself, if not for my mother. You don’t have to do this.”

  “Yeah I do,” she said. “And so does Kent. You know as well as I do that this isn’t just about finding your mom. We have to finish this.”

  I knew she would say that, but I had to give it a try.

  “You have to promise me one thing, though,” she said.

  “What?”

  “I know how angry you are. I’m right there with you. Whatever we have to do to survive is justified, except for one thing.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Murder.”

  “I’m not sure it’s easy to tell the difference in the middle of a fight,” I said.

  “I know, but what’s about to happen isn’t just about fighting to stop the invasion. We have to be better than them. If we win today, a whole new world will be born. It has to be one that would never repeat what the Retros have done. We have to hold on to our humanity, or the new world will eventually end up in as much trouble as the old one.”

  “So what do you want me to promise?” I asked.

  “That you won’t do anything you’ll regret,” she said.

  I wasn’t so sure I could promise that. The Retros were mass murderers. They should be defeated and punished, no matter what the cost.

  “I don’t think you would have said that a few weeks ago,” I said. “What changed?”

  “I met the Sounders,” she said. “These people are sacrificing themselves for a principle. They could just as easily have gone along with the program and started a better life here, but they saw how wrong that would be. They’re not fighting for survival, they’re fighting for what’s right.”

  She pulled away from me and said, “That’s what I’m going to do.”

  I didn’t know what to say to her. I heard what she was saying, and it was incredibly noble. But once the fur started to fly, nobility would be the first casualty.

  “Then let’s just say we’ll do what we have to do,” I said.

  She gave me an uncertain look. She wanted more but I couldn’t bring myself to lie to her again. The truth was I wanted revenge. I’d wanted it since the moment Quinn was killed. If I had the chance, I was going to get it. The hell with humanity.

  Kent hurried back from his mission, zipping up his uniform.

  “Can’t say that helped,” he announced. “My stomach is still bouncing. But it feels good. I’m ready.”

  The three of us stood there, facing each other, dressed in our SYLO uniforms. It was a sight I would never have imagined could happen.

  We were SYLO.

  “This is our last chance,” I said. “I know why I’m going. It’s about my mom. I don’t expect you guys to risk your lives for her.”

  “But we have to,” Kent said. “This is the endgame, man. I’m not going to miss it. Besides, what would Olivia think if I bailed?”

  Olivia would never know, but I didn’t po
int that out to him.

  “All I want is to find my mother and get her out of there,” I said.

  “Right there with you, Rook,” Kent said. “But if we take out a few Retros along the way, all the better.”

  Tori didn’t bother giving Kent her lecture about revenge and humanity.

  “We’ll find her,” Tori said with confidence.

  The front door opened and Granger stepped in, dressed in full combat gear complete with a vest and helmet. On his hip was a pistol in a holster.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  “Ready,” we all responded.

  “Second thoughts?” he asked.

  “None,” Kent replied.

  “Then you’ll need these,” Granger said and motioned to someone outside.

  The SYLO aide entered, carrying vests and helmets for us.

  “Now we’re talking!” Kent declared with relish.

  As we geared up, Granger said, “You’ll be transported to the desert with me in my chopper. Ground troops will be inserted, creating a wide perimeter around the base, beyond the sight lines of the Retros. We’ll hold that position until we’re confident that the Retro drones have been grounded.”

  “And what if we don’t get that word?” I asked.

  “Then we don’t attack,” he replied. “We’d be cut down before we got to within a half klick of the camp’s perimeter.”

  I wanted to argue with him, but he was right. The SYLO ground forces would have no chance of securing the dome unless the drones were grounded. I sure hoped that Kenny Sokol and his commandos knew what they were doing.

  “As soon as we can verify that the drones aren’t flying, we’ll advance to the base while dropping in commandos on zip lines ahead of us.”

  “Just like on Pemberwick Island,” Kent said.

  “No, on Pemberwick they didn’t have mayhem in mind,” Granger replied.

  I looked at the watch that I had been given with the uniform.

  “Two o’clock,” I said. “The Sounders move at five. They’ll get the bomb and move it into the dome. At the same time a team of commandos will move through the Bridge and take over the command center on this side. It’s all been planned out but there’s no telling how long it will take.”

  “They gave us communicators,” Tori said, holding up her small black device. “We can’t contact the other side of the Bridge, but they’ll let us know when the command center is secured.”

  “Then stay by me,” Granger ordered. “I’d like to be the first to know.”

  “You’ll be the second,” Kent said. “We’ll be the first.”

  I think Granger was fighting the urge to punch Kent.

  “I need you kids to understand something,” Granger said. “Once I give the command to advance, you’re on your own. We’re not going in to rescue prisoners or to capture the enemy. There is only one goal here.”

  “Understood,” I said. “Get to the dome and seal it off. That’s the only thing that matters.”

  There was nothing more to be said. Granger stood there, awkwardly.

  “I’m not proud of some of the things I’ve done during this campaign,” he said. “But I always tried to do what was needed. I hope you believe that.”

  “No hard feelings,” Kent said. “Not a lot, anyway.”

  Granger stayed focused on me.

  “What you kids have done is just . . . damn epic. I wish I hadn’t . . .”

  He didn’t finish the sentence. He couldn’t find the right words, or maybe he didn’t want to continue, because his voice was cracking. Instead, he stood up straight, lifted his right arm, and saluted us.

  None of us knew what to do, so we didn’t move.

  Granger snapped off the salute and said, “Outside in five.”

  He then quickly ducked out of the door.

  The three of us exchanged surprised looks.

  “Well that was kinda cool,” Kent said.

  “Yeah,” Tori said. “But it felt like he was saying goodbye.”

  “Wow,” Kent said. “Thanks for ruining that.”

  “Are we ready?” I asked.

  Kent stepped up to Tori and me and threw his arms around both of us. It was so un-Kent-like that I didn’t know how to react.

  “I love you guys,” he said.

  Tori and I joined in the hug. I didn’t like Kent, but I loved him and I knew Tori did too. The three of us stayed that way for a solid thirty seconds before Kent broke it off, stepped back, and said, “Let’s go kick us some Retro ass.”

  We stepped outside of the small building to a scene of organized chaos. Soldiers were running every which way, jeeps were flying by loaded with gear and personnel, and the steady sound of helicopter engines provided the soundtrack.

  “Jeez,” Kent said. “This is all because of us. I sure hope those Sounders weren’t jerking us around.”

  Chief Brock jogged up to us, still wearing his Air Force uniform.

  “Wanted to wish you guys luck,” he said and shook each of our hands.

  “You’re not coming?” Tori asked.

  “I want to. Granger nixed it. I guess he trusts me just so far. I am the enemy, after all. Do you have your communicators?”

  Kent and Tori both pulled out their small devices. They looked like miniature iPhones.

  “They work like walkie-talkies,” Brock explained. “Don’t mess with the frequency because you’re locked in with Sokol and his team. You won’t get voice, only text.”

  “So they’re more like walkie-texties,” Kent said.

  “Texting doesn’t need as much power,” Brock said. “Harder to track, too. When Sokol’s team has the command center secured, they’ll let you know. Hopefully that will be in about . . .” he checked his watch “. . . three and a half hours. Man, it’s getting close.”

  “Gee, thanks for that,” Kent said.

  “I understand your mother is being held at the camp,” Brock said to me.

  “That’s my mission,” I said. “I’m going to get her out.”

  “Our mission,” Tori corrected.

  “Once you get inside the base, try to find the Sounders you’ve already met. They might be able to help.”

  “We will,” I said.

  “Good. Nothing left to say but good luck,” Brock said. “And thank you.”

  “No, thank you,” Tori said. “What the Sounders are doing is amazing.”

  “It isn’t amazing,” Brock said. “It’s right.”

  Tori gave me a quick look that I didn’t return.

  “Let’s go!” Granger shouted from a jeep that screamed up and stopped next to us.

  The three of us hopped in back and the driver took off, leaving Brock in the camp to wait for the news of whether or not we had stopped the invasion. It must have made him crazy to be watching from the sideline.

  We bounced over the bumpy dirt roads that had been created just for the camp, racing alongside several other jeeps that were headed for the same place: the wide-open field where the SYLO helicopters were parked. When we emerged from the trees into the clearing, the sight made me catch my breath.

  “Uh . . . wow,” was all Kent managed to say.

  There had to be a hundred choppers scattered all over the field. Some were large transport helicopters, but there were plenty of smaller attack craft armed with missiles and heavy-duty guns. Rotors were already spinning on many of them. Others were just powering up. The combined sound was steadily growing into a deafening din of white noise.

  Hundreds of SYLO soldiers scrambled across the field, headed for the various craft. Every last one was outfitted with body armor and carried an automatic weapon.

  It was an impressive spectacle that gave me hope they might actually have a shot at taking over the dome.

  But only if the attack planes were knocked out
.

  The driver brought us to one of the larger choppers and stopped just beyond the limit of the whirling rotors. Granger jumped out without a word, ducked low, and headed for the craft. The three of us followed right behind.

  Jumping on board we saw that there were already a few dozen soldiers strapped into seats that lined the sides of the fuselage, facing center. The moment they saw us, the entire group applauded and cheered. It was totally unexpected, for as far as I knew the only people who knew about us were Granger and President Neff. I actually got a little choked up. Of course, Kent waved his arms in the air, eating it up. There were three empty seats waiting for us in the rear. As we made our way to them, we were repeatedly clapped on the back by the appreciative soldiers.

  I found a seat, strapped in, and put on my headphones.

  The soldier next to me held up his fist for a bump.

  “I’m going to tell my kids I flew in with you,” he said.

  These guys really thought we were heroes. It was a strange sensation, though the overriding thought I had was I didn’t care what he told his kids just as long as he got the chance to see them again.

  Granger stood up in front to face the team.

  “We’ll land five klicks outside the border of the camp,” he said through the intercom, which also carried his voice to the rest of the attack force. “I want wheels on the ground for no more than forty-five seconds. Get out fast, hit the deck, and keep your eyes on the camp.”

  My stomach flipped. These were professional soldiers. They had probably trained for this very mission. I hoped we wouldn’t get in their way.

  “We will stay there until I give the command to begin the assault. I chose the go-word moments ago and passed it on to the company commanders. Until you get that word, from me, you stay put with your eyes on the camp. Understood?”

  “Yes sir!” the entire group replied as one.

  “All right,” Granger said. “The go-word is . . . strike. Strike. What’s the word?”

  “Strike!” the entire group called out in unison.

  “That’s it,” Granger shouted. “We’re on. Let’s go get ’em!”

  The entire squad answered with “Hoo-rah!”

  The rotors whined.