Scavenger Vanishes (The SkyRyders Book 3)

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by Liza O'Connor




  Scavenger Vanishes

  Book 3 of the SkyRyders Series

  By Liza O’Connor

  All Rights Reserved

  Any copying or recording is forbidden without the written permission of the author. Reproduction of this work in whole or in part in any form, by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying, electronic is not allowed, except that allowed by Amazon.

  In other words: if you buy this book anywhere other than Amazon, it’s a pirated copy. Please support Authors instead of Pirates. They often carry viruses.

  We are much nicer.

  All characters in this book come from the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names, titles or professions. They are not based on or inspired by any known individual and any resemblance to a person living or dead is purely coincidental. The Fort Brags mentioned in this series is two hundred years in the future and is not Fort Braggs in NC.

  Table of Content

  All Rights Reserved

  Table of Content

  A Note on Punctuation:

  Blurb

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Other Books by Liza O’Connor

  A Note on Punctuation:

  Long ago when colonists of the New World got their first printing press, it was evidently a piece of crap. To make the wooden blocks fit better, the operator of the printing press decided all fragile punctuation (periods and commas) would remain within the tall dialogue tags for ease of printing. And thus began the U.S. illogical punctuation rule. Convenience ruled over logic. I understand.

  What I don’t understand is why, in the digital world, we cling to this archaic illogical rule instead of returning to the logical British rule that decides the location of dialogue tags by where it logically resides.

  I’m happy to say, some U.S. e-publishers are returning to the British rule of logic in this matter, and so shall I. Here forth, logical dialogue punctuation will be willfully and purposefully used in my novels. It’s not a mistake or ignorance on my part. It’s a rebellion against illogical rules of the past. I encourage all authors and publishers to overthrow silly habits of the past.

  Blurb

  Stationed on opposite coasts, Alisha and Logan must each face their own demons and challenges. On the West Coast, Alisha loses her rank for butting heads with General Powell and soon discovers the life of a private can be utter hell. On the East Coast, newly promoted General Logan discovers his soldiers do not recognize his authority to command. In an effort to retake control of the East Coast Corps, Logan authorizes unthinkable actions. When Alisha faces a life-threatening crisis, will Logan rise above his own troubles, or will she discover love and rescue with her best friend Jack?

  Chapter 1

  Alisha groaned in protest when Jack pulled her out of bed and forced her into the shower. They had been in battle all night long; surely they’d be allowed a few more hours of rest.

  “The troops may sleep in late, but there’s no rest for the field commanders. General Powell will want to analyze all five battles before noon. So stop your bitching and wake yourself up with a shower,” Jack advised.

  “You knew this was going to happen when you suggested I assist you?”

  Jack just pushed her into the bathroom. “Yes, and given your field contributions last night, don’t even think I’ll apologize for it!”

  Alisha pulled off her PJs and stepped into the hot shower. Jack’s reminder of her contributions lessened her resentment. She had gone into battle focused and determined to do her best, but in her heart, she had felt that MAC had erred in taking her off a mission just to help Jack field command. However, field commanding five sites over a hundred-mile radius had turned out to be harder than she’d anticipated. They’d split the command, and Alisha had joined the northwestern troops’ two battle sites while Jack had managed the three lower West Coast battles. They’d stayed in radio contact, but being closer to the sites had definitely helped make the quick calls that saved Ryders’ lives.

  Fifteen minutes later, as they sat with General Powell reviewing the videos of the battles, Alisha was stunned to discover the general was most unhappy with their decision to split their command. He acted as if the battles had been a complete disaster instead of absolute victories.

  Because Jack had specifically asked her not to intervene on his behalf, she forced herself to endure the unjust berating for nearly two hours. Finally, she could take no more. “General, this isn’t productive, and I’m too tired to waste my sleep time on something non-productive. Either we move on to the soldiers’ performances, or I’m going back to bed.”

  Both Jack and the general stared at her in stunned silence for a moment. Finally, Powell found his voice. “You’re correct. It is a waste of time. Let’s move on.”

  The general wasn’t any happier with his soldiers’ performance than he had been with Jack’s. “Sir, if you intend to go in there and read off that list of demerits you’ve been compiling, then put my name on your list and give them all to me. These soldiers did exactly what we asked them to do and they know it. If you go out there and tell them that they performed below expectations and hand out those demerits, you will demoralize them and destroy your credibility.”

  “Clearly, I had higher expectations than you did,” Powell snapped.

  “Then punish me for failing to deliver, but those Ryders did precisely what I asked them to do,” she yelled. Realizing she had crossed the line, Alisha reined in her anger and continued in a softer voice. “Truthfully, I don’t think it’s the battle or your Ryders’ performance you’re unhappy about.”

  “You are overstepping, Colonel,” the general growled.

  “No sir, I’m not. It is my duty to protect this Corps, you, and the Ryders from harm. You have a reputation for being hard but fair in your debriefings, but today, there is nothing accurate in that list of demerits.”

  “You’re too soft for this,” Powell said. “Maybe your time would be better spent sleeping.”

  Alisha sighed and stared up at the ceiling in exasperation.

  “That wasn’t a suggestion, Colonel Kane, that was an order.”

  And now she was being sent to her room, like a five-year-old child.

  “Fine!”

  Alisha stormed out of the war room.

  She, of course, was much too angry to sleep now, so she wandered over to the wind tunnels to see if any of the cadets wanted to improve enough to sacrifice sleep for airtime. She found all three tunnels occupied.

  Unfortunately, one of the flyers was Captain Tucker. Grabbing an air-suit, she entered the tunnel and joined him. He looked stunned at her arrival, then turned a deep shade of red as she r
eached up and placed a com mic in his ear.

  Once the com unit was on, she let him have it. “Tucker, you’re supposed to be on the East Coast. We have to get you out of here before the general finds out. He’ll have you drilled out of the Corps for failing to leave with Logan!”

  “I did leave with General Logan,” Tucker assured her. “But after we cleared out the Cartel in the Mid-Atlantic, he sent me back here to finish training. I gave General Powell my orders when I arrived this morning.”

  Alisha relaxed and smiled. “Logan sent you back here?”

  Tucker looked uncertain. “He said I was close to passing the tunnel…”

  Alisha reached out and gave him a slight shove on his left arm that one week ago would have sent him spiraling down to the floor. Now he dipped and returned to his position. “You are,” she assured him. “How much more time do you have in the tunnel?”

  “An hour and ten: the sign-up sheet was empty when I arrived this morning.”

  “So you haven’t slept at all.” She frowned. “Then maybe now isn’t a good time.”

  His hand snared her arm. “No. Now’s a good time.”

  Alisha could see the nervous sparkle in his eyes. If he was sleepy or tired, she couldn’t tell. “All right, let me get the slats and we’ll get started.”

  She noticed his face turned a shade redder, but she wrote it off as nerves.

  Oddly enough, whatever nerves he might have had were gone by the time she returned with the slats. Despite his lack of sleep, he remained focused throughout her lesson. She helped him put them on as he floated in the air, then bent his pliable body into the proper position for diving.

  He was a little shaky at first, but with her hovering above him providing a steadying hand on occasion, after a few minutes he had control. She left the tunnel so he could safely move about and learn to rise and descend using the slats.

  She had learned this caution when training the BDs. Before they gained comfort and skill with the slats in the tunnel, they’d experience several wild maneuvers she didn’t want to be anywhere near. Sure enough, she heard a loud whack against the side of the tunnel and stared in through the window. Tucker remained airborne, which meant he’d recovered, but she could see a red welt on his jaw.

  When his hour was over, she joined him and his friends for lunch in the mess hall. Her presence seemed to cause a stir when she first entered. They’re probably afraid I’m going to jump up on a table and start yelling at them again, she concluded, remembering her “no dog” lambasting, which had ended the making of dogs.

  She hadn’t realized how she missed the camaraderie of the ranks until now. The playful light-heartedness, the jokes, the teasing, none of which she experienced at the general’s table.

  She was in the midst of a funny scavenger story when suddenly her attentive audience focused on something behind her. By their concerned looks, she was afraid it was the general. She turned and discovered Jack. He was trying to look annoyed, but she could tell his heart wasn’t in it.

  “Jack, have you eaten?”

  She asked a cadet to grab the colonel a plate. She was glad the cadet had left before Jack could refuse. She quickly slid down the bench, closer to Tucker, in order to make room for him to sit on her left side.

  “I’m supposed to be finding you and bringing you back to the general’s table,” Jack said in a quiet voice as he sat down.

  “Well, I’ve already eaten, and by now, so has everyone at the General’s table. You’ve no choice, Jack: it’s a Philly cheese steak or starvation.”

  “Actually, a cheese steak sounds delicious.”

  “It is! I’d forgotten how enjoyable a lunch could be with good company and simple food.” She smiled at the Tucker and the other Ryders.

  “She was in the middle of a scavenger story,” one of the Ryders said, clearly wanting her to finish the story.

  Jack gave her a look as if she had lost her mind.

  “A perfectly acceptable story,” she assured him. Still, she made them wait until the cadet who had left for Jack’s food returned. While they waited, she gave Jack a brief catch-up of the story. “I was telling them about a scavenger named Three Hand Jack.”

  Jack choked.

  Alisha laughed. “The fact that he shares your name is coincidental. There is no resemblance to you beyond that. The reason he was called ‘Three Hand’ was because instead of using a bioscan, he carried the dry hand of a politician he once murdered.”

  “A dry hand?”

  “That’s where they peel the skin from the hand, load it with preservatives and let it dry on an inflated surgical glove,” Tucker explained.

  “Becomes a human-skin glove,” another Ryder added.

  His forehead furrowed as if he didn’t believe her.

  “It’s true,” she assured him. “And unlike a bioscan, which can be found during a search, or seen by X-ray when walking through security gates, no one ever noticed that Three Hand’s right hand was slightly larger and a shade greener than his left hand.”

  When the soldier returned with Jack’s food, she continued her story, explaining how Three Hand could walk through the tightest security posing as a delivery man. Usually they didn’t even bother checking the box he carried, since it was sealed and correctly posted to someone in the building. Even if they did open it, they would only find a brand new catcher. While an odd thing for a socialite to purchase, it was certainly not illegal. Once Three Hand was on the elevator, he would go to the floor assigned to his package. The elevator would open and Three Hand would appear to leave. However, he was an excellent illusionist, and what the elevator video captured was simply a holograph projection of Three Hand leaving. He remained in the elevator, out of sight of the camera, now dressed as a socialite. He would depart on his target floor, usually the penthouse, and using his third hand he would gain access to the condo of his choice. Once he had stripped the place of jewels and cash, he’d climb out the window, and fly away with his catcher.

  As Alisha finished the story, she realized that everyone around her was quiet. Not just her table, but all the tables. She shrugged in embarrassment.

  “Has he ever been caught?” one of the Ryders asked.

  “Nope,” Alisha replied.

  “Is he in Capital?” another asked.

  Before Alisha could reply, another Ryder spoke up. “Why? You think you can catch him, Carl?”

  The two soldiers looked headed for a fight, but Jack put a stop to it by standing up and reminding them that debriefing would begin in five minutes.

  As he and Alisha left the mess hall and walked toward the assembly hall, Jack spoke softly, “Alisha, take my advice and don’t push the general any further.”

  “I had no choice.”

  “You do have a choice,” Jack asserted. “And he’s very close to cutting you down to a buck private.”

  Alisha shrugged. At least then she would enjoy some good company at lunch. “Is he still planning to hand out all those demerits?”

  “He is,” Jack replied. “And he expects you to stand up on the stage beside him, providing your silent support.”

  “Well, he’s delusional,” Alisha replied, and stormed into the assembly room to search out the general.

  Powell was already on the stage with his lists of demerits. Alisha ignored his angry demand as to where she had been for the last three hours. “Sir, if you insist on giving the soldiers demerits, which are in my opinion fully unwarranted, then I am left with no choice but to insist, as their co-field commander during the battle last night, all demerits be leveled against myself.”

  “Alisha, we’ve already had this discussion,” the general warned.

  “Yes, sir, but I must do what I can to limit the demoralizing effect your actions will have. These men clearly do not deserve demerits. According to Reg 6.98, it is my obligation as their commanding officer to take responsibility for their actions while under my command. The footnotes to this reg state that ‘taking responsibility’ can encompa
ss the transfer of disciplinary punishments.”

  “Alisha, that reg is used by generals to punish bad captains…”

  “That may be your use for it, but I checked with MAC. Any demerits you give these men today will go to me. There’s nothing you can do to stop it,” Alisha assured him.

  The general glared over her shoulder at Jack. “I suppose you put her up to this?”

  “He did not!” Alisha snapped. “Jack and I have not discussed Reg 6.98. In fact, Jack’s advice was for me to fall in line and support you.”

  “Which you’re clearly not planning to do.”

  “No, sir,” Alisha admitted.

  “Well then, get off my stage,” he snapped.

  “Gladly, sir,” she replied, and joined the ranks of Ryders gathering for the debriefing.

  She was glad to be off the stage. Despite the very brave front she had put on for the general, the rage inside him was palpable and frightening. It reminded her of a time when a massive lion stood just inches in front of her at a zoo and burst into roars of fury. Primal fear had surged through her body as the lion’s hot, deathly breath swept over her. Her chest literally vibrated from its roar.

  Powell had not yet roared, but his pent-up anger was even more frightening than a lion’s.

  The general called the meeting to order. “Upon reviewing the videos of the battles, I am extremely disappointed with both the planning and execution of the battle.” He then spent fifteen minutes slamming Jack for his substandard efforts. Ignoring Alisha’s participation completely, he moved on to the performance of the men. After he called out the first name and demerits, Alisha spoke up loudly.

 

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