Scavenger's Mission (The SkyRyders Book 1)

by Liza O'Connor

  “MAC wouldn’t waste the resources unless it agreed with your assessment.”

  As they waited for the results, Logan had her tell him more about the cartels. The more she told, the more worried she became. When the phone rang, she jumped with fear.

  Listening to the colonel’s side of the conversation, Alisha determined General Powell wanted to know what was going on. The colonel gave him a brief explanation as he focused on his computer. Reading something that made him frown, he finally cut the general off.

  “General, let me put my captain on the phone. I need to see to the safety of the compound.” He laid the phone on the table and hurried out.

  Alisha could hear the general’s voice all the way across the room. Reluctantly, she left the bed and walked over to the phone and picked it up. “General?” she said, expecting her ears to be assaulted. Instead, the voice was warm and soothing.

  “Alisha, it’s Jack. Tell me what’s going on.” She took a deep breath and explained the concern she’d shared with the colonel and how he’d immediately sent a message off to MAC.

  She looked down at the computer screen. The colonel had left off a portion of MAC’s message. Not only had MAC sent a surveillance squad, but he had placed all Ryder stations on Code Red. Not since the Terror Wars had the entire Corps been placed on Code Red. If this turned out to be nothing, she’d look like the biggest fool of all time.

  “Alisha, I need you to tell me everything you know about the drug cartels,” Jack said with soft urgency. “I’m supposed to draw up battle plans, and I have no idea what I’m up against. Will they attack by land, by air? What type of ground vehicles do they have?”

  His questions overwhelmed her, and she burst into tears, having once again screwed things up. “Jack, I don’t know anything. I could be wrong about their striking out at Broadtown. I just thought we needed to improve our security. I didn’t mean for MAC to Code Red everybody.”

  “Please stop crying,” he pleaded, his voice lowering to a soft whisper. “I need you to stay focused. The fact we are at Code Red is not your responsibility. You did exactly what you should have done, as did the colonel. MAC is solely responsible for our present state of emergency, so stop worrying. If this is a false alarm, then the buck stops with MAC. It never apologizes; it never blames.”

  “Are you sure? Because I’ve had more than my quota of getting colonels in trouble today.”

  “The only way I’ll be in trouble is if I don’t have a plan written up in the next thirty minutes. Now can we get to work?”

  Alisha had thought she had no information to provide, but Jack’s questions drew out more than she realized she knew. At his request, she remained quietly on the phone as he worked on the plans. When he finished a portion of the tactical implementations, he would run it by her. She was amazed at how good he was at planning. No wonder the general liked him so much. She suggested a couple of minor changes, but truly Jack didn’t require help to plan a battle. All he needed was good intel.

  She hoped good intel was what she had given him. She wished Jack could talk with Denny. Denny was a walking encyclopedia of street knowledge.

  “Alisha,” Jack said, his voice clearly strained. “We just got our orders. Your worries weren’t unfounded. Both Broadtown and Doakstown are infested with snipers. All personnel in both compounds are grounded until further notice.” His voice dropped lower. “Alisha, promise me this will be one order you’ll obey.”

  “I’ll stay grounded.”

  “Good girl. Where’s Logan?”

  “I don’t know. He left to secure the compound, but he hasn’t returned.” Suddenly a terrible thought came to her mind. “He wouldn’t have taken off…”

  “No. All personnel means just that. He’s probably securing the compound and deploying the ground soldiers. Alisha, I have to put the phone down for a minute, but stay on, okay?”

  Alisha was more than willing to remain on the phone. For the first time in her life, she was terrified. She was never afraid when airborne, but trapped in this room, unable to do anything but wait for someone to enter with the colonel’s hacked-off hand and open the door…

  She placed the phone on speaker so she could search for a gun. From what Denny had told her about these guys, she certainly didn’t want to be taken alive.

  Her search turned up both gun and bullets. She was sitting in front of the computer, loading the gun, when she noticed MAC had sent three urgent messages. She opened and read them. The last one demanded an immediate reply. She sent off a message explaining the colonel was securing the compound. She signed the message “Captain Kane”.

  MAC replied, calling her Alisha. It thanked her for responding, then proposed the most extraordinary thing. It wanted to connect with Denny so it could improve the intel on the cartel. However, it concluded the only person Denny would talk to was her.

  Seconds after she agreed to try, Denny’s startled face appeared on her screen.

  “Yo, girl! How’d you get through my firewall?”

  “We debutantes have our secrets. I just got access to a computer and wanted to make certain you’re okay.”

  Denny tensed. “Is this line secure?”

  “Probably, but just in case, don’t say anything you wouldn’t say in front of a SkyRyder.” She wanted to get his help, not get him into trouble.

  “Then this is going to be a very quiet conversation.”

  “That’s all right—just looking at your cute little face is enough for me.”

  “Where are you?”

  “The colonel’s room. It’s the only place of privacy in the compound. The rest of the place is wired.”

  “So where’s the colonel?”

  “Out. He left me in here alone, and you know what us mice do when the cat leaves…”

  “They tunnel behind a class-one firewall and pop up on a friend’s monitor?”

  “Exactly.” She smiled. He wasn’t buying this at all. “How’s Carol?” she asked, her voice growing softer.

  “Hanging on. You should visit her. Just don’t start crying, okay?”

  “My leave’s been canceled for eternity.”

  “By that grumpy colonel of yours?”

  “Yeah…”

  “Bone the man. He’ll stop being so grumpy then,” Denny promised her.

  “Let’s talk about something else.”

  “Why? Is that too personal?” Denny asked, his eyes narrowing. “Do me a favor. Swivel the camera around and let me see the rest of the room.”

  “There’s no one here but me,” Alisha declared, but did as he asked. Finally, she repositioned it on herself. “Satisfied?”

  “Sorry, kid, but things are a bit scary on the street right now. The Czechs are pissed as hell about the Ryder strike yesterday. They’ve been rounding up every street dealer that came in the morning, trying to find out who spilled their guts. You wouldn’t happen to be able to supply me with that name, would you? I’ve already lost two friends over this. And they aren’t stopping, Alisha. If they have to kill every one of us to get a name, they’ll do it.”

  “No one squealed, Denny. They were spotted by a Ryder patrol a few days ago.”

  “Then I’m fucked. They aren’t going to believe that. They think the Ryders are a joke.”

  “Then how do they explain our smashing attack?”

  “They believe one of the morning dealers flew in, flew out, and told you exactly where their guards were stationed and how they were armed. The only reason I’m still alive is because—”

  Alisha cut him off. She didn’t want him to admit to anything. “Are you safe? I’m not asking where you are. I only want to know you’re safe.”

  “Yeah…maybe.” He laughed. “I hope so, because I’m too damn young to die.”

  “And too pretty,” Alisha added. It was a running joke between them that when he dressed up as a street girl he outclassed them all.

  “What about you? You here in Capital?”

  “No. I’m stationed in quiet litt
le Broadtown.”

  Suddenly Denny looked ill. “Alisha, do you trust me?”

  “With my life,” she assured him, and she meant it.

  “Then put on some street clothes and get the hell out of there.”

  “Why?”

  Denny was obviously reading something on his screen. “Oh, babe, this looks bad.”

  “What?”

  “Ignore my last advice. You got a gun?”

  “You’re scaring me, Denny.”

  “You remember what I told you about the Russian cartel?”

  “Yeah…”

  “Well, the Czechs make them look like amateurs. Whatever you do, don’t let them take you alive. Promise me!”

  “Only if you’ll promise me something,” she bartered.

  “Anything.”

  “Help me stay alive,” she pleaded.

  “Alisha, if I could, girl, I’d do it.”

  “Tell everything you know about the cartel to our battle strategist.”

  “Alisha, don’t ask me to do that,” he pleaded. “If they find me…”

  “No, I’ll call him on the phone so there’s no direct connection between you and him.”

  Denny considered this for a moment. “Let’s try it.”

  Alisha picked up the phone and pushed buttons, pretending to dial. When she finished, she spoke into the phone. “Answer the phone, Jack,” she whispered. “Answer the phone!”

  Jack’s voice came on. “MAC says you need me. What’s wrong?”

  “Jack, I’ve got a friend of mine on the PC. He has information about the attack that might help. I’m going to put you on speaker so the two of you can talk. Hold on.”

  She set the phone down and pressed the speaker button. “Can you hear me?”

  “Loud and clear,” Jack replied.

  “Jack, this is my friend…Arthur. Arthur, this is Colonel Jack Sparkes. He’s the battle strategist, and between your intel and his talents at planning, I’m depending on you two to keep me alive.”

  Denny didn’t waste time greeting the colonel. “Let me tell you what I know and get off the line before the cartel breaks through my door and finds me aiding the Ryders.” Halfway through his data dump, he paused. “Alisha, promise me you’ll shoot the computer before you shoot yourself?”

  “I promise,” she assured him.

  Comforted, he continued with the information. Unlike her own interview with Jack, Denny didn’t require any prompting. He knew exactly what Jack needed. Finally, he stopped talking. “That’s it. That’s all I got,” he said. “Alisha, you’ve gotta break this connection and cover the path. Do you know how to do that?”

  She didn’t, but she trusted that MAC did. “I will. Thank you…Arthur. I owe you big time.”

  “I hope you’ll be around so I can collect,” he replied, and the screen went blank.

  She typed a request to MAC to sever the connection and cover the path.

  MAC responded it had. It also removed all the emails relating to the topic from the computer’s memory. Then it brought up the panel of monitors. Suddenly she could see everyone in the compound. Her team had brought Ollie’s catcher inside. They had pushed back the furniture so Ollie could stretch the catcher out and properly fold it. Evidently they’d decided it wasn’t enough for Ollie to know how to fold a catcher. They wanted him to do it in a speedy fashion.

  She pressed her hand to the monitor. “God, please don’t let them come to harm. They’ve so much potential.”

  Another monitor view showed the colonel standing in the tower beside the major who commanded the ground forces. Whatever they were viewing wasn’t good. She’d never seen the colonel look so grim.

  Jack’s voice came over the speakerphone. “Alisha, how active are the meat-eaters in the river by the port?”

  “Very,” Alisha replied.

  “Any chance of someone swimming across it?”

  “No, but there’s a bridge.”

  “A bridge? Okay, thanks,” he said, and disappeared from the line.

  She returned to the monitors. Evidently the fight had begun. The smoke in the compound made it impossible to locate the colonel. She checked on her crew via the monitor. They weren’t folding catchers any longer. They sat at the kitchen table, looking grim and frustrated. No doubt they wanted to join the battle instead of leaving their lives in the hands of the ground crew.

  Alisha couldn’t blame them. She only wished she could go out and comfort them. Unfortunately, the only hand that would open the colonel’s door was his own. And until he let her out, or someone else came into possession of his right hand, she would remain imprisoned here.

  ***

  Alisha was watching her crew when a low, thundering boom sounded far away. A few seconds later, a loud explosion occurred on the side wall. The wall shook and trembled from what sounded like cannon mortar. Plaster fell from the ceiling. She added a third way she might get out: when it fell into rubble from the mortar attacks.

  Then the lights and computer went down, leaving her in pitch-black nothingness. Terror threatened to overcome her. Gramps had tried to explain what the last war had been like, but until this moment, his stories had only been words. She carefully searched the table until she found the gun. Then she floundered about in the pitch blackness until she located the bed.

  The moment she crawled onto the soft bed, the terror abated. This was her safe zone. As she calmed, she remembered, during her search for a gun, she had noticed a flashlight in the nightstand. She found it and turned it on briefly to check that it worked. Then she turned it back off and sat up with the gun on her right side and the light on her left. She concentrated on the cacophony of war, which managed to make its way through the thick, soundproof exterior walls.

  And she prayed. For a girl who had never seen much evidence of God, she talked his ear off. “Please keep my colonel safe, watch over my crew, and look after Denny.” Then she thought of Gramps and how he’d react if she were to die, then she burst into tears. After a while she calmed and began the whole prayer cycle over again.

  She was in the middle of her prayer when a voice spoke from the darkness. For one startled moment, she thought it was God.

  “Alisha, can you hear me?” the voice repeated.

  She came to her senses and made her way to the computer, which was alive once more. “Jack, I thought we’d lost contact.”

  “We did. I’ve moved to a different site. The cartel hasn’t found this cable yet, so let me get to the point. MAC is removing your grounding. There’s something we need you to do.”

  She could tell by the edge in his voice he thought the request impossible, but MAC had ordered it, and he followed orders.

  The request still stunned her.

  “I’ll do it,” she said, “on one condition.”

  “Alisha, you’re a soldier. You can’t set conditions.”

  “MAC has to remove Reg 13.356 from the active regs.”

  “Say again?”

  “Reg 13.356 states a soldier is supposed to divine whether an order is unreasonable and the result will harm a Ryder. It conflicts with my ability to obey MAC’s order. This order is impossible and therefore unreasonable.”

  “Alisha, what good will this do?”

  “It’s a bad reg, and at least I’ll die knowing I made some contribution to the Corps if I don’t succeed.”

  “Hold on,” Jack said, his voice betraying his stress. He spoke again a few minutes later. “MAC accepts your condition. Reg 13.356 is officially removed.”

  “Good, then get me out of here, and I’ll start my mission,” she said, and returned to the bed, pulling the colonel’s pillow to her face so she could breathe his scent one last time.

  Chapter 56

  Logan had been in battles where his men were outnumbered, but this was beyond comparison. His SkyRyders were grounded and completely helpless, and the assault on the compound was relentless. They were overwhelmingly outmanned, outgunned, and outmaneuvered. His only hope was reinforceme
nts from Capital.

  He knew he’d left Alisha locked in his quarters, but the thought gave him comfort. He didn’t have to worry about her flying off and getting herself killed. She was safe—well, as safe as anyone in the middle of an all-out war could be.

  Almost as if in response to his thoughts, a mortar shell exploded against the compound wall nearest his quarters. The grounds men quickly patched the breach with a fast-drying concrete spray, but that just closed the hole from immediate invasions. The tank firing those mortars would have no problem ripping it to pieces.

  Another shot sailed over the wall and exploded against the generator. The compound fell into blinding darkness. A second later, the emergency backup kicked in and perimeter lights returned, illuminating a surge of men attacking the walls. The guards killed as many as possible, but they just kept coming. As did the mortar shells.

  Their communication tower still stood, so Logan remained in contact with MAC and the Capital. “General, where are your men?” he growled into his comm unit, his throat burning from the thick, acrid smoke.

  “We’ve got a problem. They’ve got a line of high altitude concussion launchers set up two miles upwind of Broadtown. We can’t get through them. We’ve got to figure out a way to disable them.”

  Logan almost coughed his lungs out. “Well, sir, if you don’t do it soon, there won’t be anything left of this compound to defend. I estimate full breach in less than five minutes.”

  Suddenly another voice came into the conversation. “Logan, this is Jack. Are you sure a breach is imminent?”

  “For a man who’s never set foot in battle, that’s some question to ask me. Yes, I’m sure!” he screamed.

  “I’m sorry,” Jack said. “We have to send in Alisha.”

  “There’s nothing she can do.”

  “It’s a MAC command,” Jack repeated. “She’s been notified. She’s waiting for release.”

  Logan wanted to know how the hell MAC expected her to do what an entire regiment couldn’t, but he knew not to waste his breath. Based on Jack’s cryptic statement about her release, it was clear they feared their communications might have been breached and didn’t want Alisha’s actual location known. Anyone listening to the conversation would believe Alisha—whatever that was, since it could be the code word for anything—was primed and ready to launch from Capital.