Collapse Series (Book 10): State of Hope

by Summer Lane

  Suddenly, I don’t want to be this version of myself anymore. I want to be innocent and careless and naïve again. I want to turn back the clock and seize normalcy once more. I want to be the girl who never loved, who never invested, and who never lost.

  I want my life back, I think. I just want to live.

  “You know I’m right,” Uriah states. “Just talk to me – why won’t you talk?”

  “Because you’re making things awkward,” I snap, looking up, meeting his dark eyes.

  His expression is pensive, coffee-colored stubble masking his face.

  “I never meant to,” he says. “Cassie-”

  “Don’t!” I toss the book aside. “Don’t say another word! Don’t tell me that you love me! You don’t love me, Uriah. You only love the chase. You loved me because I was with Chris, and I was unattainable, and now that he’s gone, I won’t be interesting to you anymore. You’ll find someone else to pine after.” I knit my brow. “Am I wrong?”

  Uriah suddenly leans forward and slips his hands behind my neck, pressing his lips against my mouth in a quick, heated kiss. I taste mint gum – the kind he constantly chews when we are nestled in our sniper nests on the battlefield, the kind that’s hard to come by these days, like cigarettes and coffee and medication – and I feel the rough, scratchy hair of his face touch my cheeks.

  It lasts only for a moment, but that is enough. He slowly pulls away, his forehead pressed against mine, his breathing ragged. I say nothing, frozen, afraid to move – afraid to hurt his feelings by speaking, by twitching.

  “Is that really so bad?” he murmurs.

  Still, I say nothing.

  He smiles slightly – the first smile in a long time – and then heads downstairs, leaving me alone with the danger of my own thoughts, his kiss still hot on my lips.

  Chapter Fourteen

  That night, the storm lightens up. Uriah and I take the pickup out through the bottom of the canyon, leaving Vera and Andrew in the farmhouse. We’re roughly thirty miles from Compound C, and we intend to pull off some recon before we attempt to make a single move to get inside.

  About three miles away from where the compound should be, we park the truck on the side of the road, hidden behind a grove of trees. We take our weapons and move like wolves through the darkness, running quick and silent over the grass.

  The rain falls lightly as we pick our way through newly carved streams, careful not to sink into the soft mounds of mud fallen from the sides of the hills. The whir and click of an Omega drone occasionally cuts through the night sky. We hide, following the same path as the drone, tracing our way to its nest.

  We don’t speak as we travel, loaded with only a light pack and a single rifle each. The constant movement and repetition of staying low and out of sight numbs me to the desire to converse.

  Eventually, the hills slope into a massive, dark plateau.

  The Valley.

  I see the white thread of Interstate 5 running north and south like a massive paint streak, and just beyond it…Compound C. It is massive, the size of a city. What was once little more than a handful of travel stops for weary tourists has been turned into a large collection of portable Omega buildings. The entire perimeter is fenced with chain link and razor sharp barbed wire. Omega guard towers have been erected roughly every 300 yards along the fence line. The entire compound is probably two miles wide. The mere breadth of it is astonishing.

  Drones buzz to and from the inside of the compound, and vehicles are busy checking in and out at the single west entrance.

  “It’s a city,” Uriah mutters. “Damn. We need an army for this.”

  “We don’t have an army,” I reply. “We just need a hole – a way to get inside.”

  “If we get caught this time,” he whispers. “We will die. There’s no question. Veronica won’t have leniency…not after Harry Lydell betrayed her.”

  Harry. My friend, and then my hated enemy, and then the man who saved my life.

  This war is brutal. It turns our friends into monsters and our lovers into faded memories…

  “I count thirteen guard towers,” I say, grimly. “The good news is that if we can actually get inside, there are so many people in there – and so much activity – we could probably slip around unnoticed.”

  “Never mind the fact that we have no idea where the first family is being kept,” Uriah replies.

  “We don’t need to find them,” I say. “We’ll locate Veronica, and she’ll tell us where they are. It’s the fastest and most logical method.”

  “What if she won’t talk?”

  “She’ll talk. She’s a power monster…she won’t want to die for Omega,” I reply, confident. “She’ll do anything to stay alive so she can keep her position.”

  “That’s a gamble,” Uriah mutters.

  “This whole thing is a gamble. Do you have any better ideas?”

  “No. I’m just saying-”

  “Well, don’t be so negative.” I flip my binoculars up and scan the interior of the compound. There are dozens of small buildings and hundreds of vehicles. Omega troops seem to be everywhere. An Omega flag hangs from what I assume is their HQ building, limp and ragged from the rain.

  “Okay, we go in behind the HQ building, where there’s a dark spot,” I say. “That’s our best chance. We’ll do it at night, and we’ll get to the big building on the south side.”

  I point to a building that has been erected along the fence. It is surrounded by guards, and a convoy of Omega vehicles sits out front. This tells me that Veronica Klaus is inside…I mean, why else would it be so heavily guarded?

  “And once we get in to Veronica?” Uriah asks. “We have no vehicle. How are we even going to get out?”

  I study the layout of the compound, and I see a collection of Omega Phoenix strike helicopters on a small tarmac. “We’ll fly out,” I say.

  “Manny is the only pilot-”

  “No. Andrew can fly enough to get us out of here alive.”

  “There are a lot of dangerous variables here,” he whispers.

  After a long moment, I look to him.

  “Just the way I like it,” I say.

  ***

  After we tell Vera and Andrew everything, we make plans to infiltrate the compound. We’ll go in through the back door like I said, and then we’ll find Veronica before we do anything else. With Klaus as our hostage, we’ll be able to control the entire fortress if we need to. Omega won’t dare compromise the safety of their beloved chancellor.

  Or so we hope.

  In the late hours of darkness, we leave the truck in the same spot where Uriah and I left it on recon. Vera and Andrew flank us as we approach the compound. My heart thunders in my chest. The outcome of this plan is unlikely to be positive. Plus, even if we manage to survive this crazy operation, we might not be able to rescue both the first family and the Angels being held as prisoners…and all of this is one big if. If Nunes was telling the truth…if the intel Uriah squeezed out of him was usable and not deliberately corrupted, a final vengeance from a dying man.

  I hope not.

  We approach the front gate, and as we near the entrance, I break into a cold sweat. My adrenaline is simmering hot, my hands slightly shaky.

  I wish Chris was here. He would come up with a better plan, a better strategy…

  No…he taught me well. This is the best way in, and he would agree.

  I pretend that he is with me, and I feel a sense of calm.

  I make a motion to the others, and we circle around the back of the compound, staying far enough away from the fence to remain hidden in the tall grass and the dark shadows of night.

  A drone buzzes overhead, shedding a beam of light on the ground.

  “Scatter!” I hiss.

  We break formation, narrowly avoiding being revealed by the white light. As it moves on, more drones take its place, circling the perimeter like swarming bees.

  I didn’t foresee this – I feel vulnerable and stupid.


  Of course the drones are patrolling…I should have anticipated that.

  Don’t dwell. Move!

  I make a circular motion with my finger and my small team falls back into formation, making sure to periodically scatter and come back together as the drones sweep their lights around the edge of the fortress.

  Finally, we reach the position behind the HQ building. It’s darker here, although there’s a guard tower about a hundred yards away. I take a deep breath and lift my rifle, pressing my cheek against the stock, getting comfortable in my spot, kneeling in the mud.

  I look through the scope, setting the grid of sights on one of the drones hovering just outside the entrance. It’s sweeping the area for movement, which makes it slower than the rest. I lick my lips, loosening my muscles…moving the soft pad of my finger to the trigger.

  I squeeze, the movement quick and fluid. The recoil snaps against my shoulder, but the shot is good. I hit the drone. Pieces of it explode into the air, and one of the propellers dies. The guards at the front gate begin shouting, and the attention of every drone amasses to the area where the injured drone is falling in a spiral toward the earth.

  “Go, go, go!” I hiss.

  We sprint toward the entrance, coming to the fence. It’s made of chain link, twelve feet high, topped with coils of barbed wire – but it’s not electrified, and that means we can get in. The attention of the guard in the tower is glued to the drone out front, and we take advantage of it. We slip heavy, elbow length gloves on and begin scaling the fence. We are all lithe and strong, and it takes seconds to reach the top. We use the thick, impenetrable gloves to hoist ourselves over the sharp barbed wire without slicing our hands and arms open. I get cut in a few places, but it’s no big deal. We swing our bodies over, grab the fence, and then drop to the ground on the other side.

  We’re in.

  A sort of frenzied excitement seizes me, and I grin like a madwoman.

  We’re inside and there are only four of us. This is the kind of story I’m going to be talking about when I’m a hundred years old, if I ever have grandchildren.

  Oh, you made the track team? I was on a tactical death squad when I was your age, and let me tell you, I rocked it.

  The thought flashes through my brain, replaced in a split second by the laser focus of the mission. We prowl around the back of HQ, pausing only to survey the terrain. Guards are rushing to the front gate to see who shot down the drone, under the impression that there are militia snipers hidden in the grass outside.

  Just one sniper. No worries, boys.

  There are vehicles around HQ, and we leapfrog from car to car, out of sight, until we are almost in front of the building itself. I wait until there is an ebb in the soldiers moving toward the front entrance, and then I run for it. I break cover and sprint across the open road, skidding into the shadows of another portable being used as Omega barracks.

  I nod at Vera, and she is next, followed by Andrew and then Uriah. He barely makes it across without being seen, and we all breathe a sigh of relief. We’ll have to break cover twice more before we reach the large building where Veronica is…or at least, the building where we hope she is.

  A piercing siren echoes across the camp, signaling the exodus of Omega patrols being released outside, searching for signs of the snipers who shot down the single drone. Just then, four consecutive detonations explode outside the gates, throwing dirt and rocks everywhere, lighting the grass ablaze.

  Andrew grins.

  “I love my job,” he says.

  We move.

  Compound C is now under the impression that they are under attack, and their full attention is turned outward, making our migration toward the guarded building easier. Black smoke rolls over the camp, giving us the cover we need to move almost invisibly to the side of the large building lined with large glass windows. More of Andrew’s timed detonations explode around the camp, keeping the confusion alive – for the time being, at least.

  Uriah takes a shot at one of the windows and it splinters apart. He and Andrew claw the remaining glass away, and then we climb inside, rolling into what appears to be someone’s office. It’s a small room with a single desk, computer, and an Omega flag on the wall. Cut and dried – simple.

  We kick open the door and pour into a long hallway. There are Omega soldiers here, dressed in uniform…office workers, strategists, intel specialists, and what appear to be high-ranking officers, judging by their dark red uniform jackets. One of them screams a warning. Uriah kills him. We sweep through the hall, killing fifteen more between the four of us. They are waiting around every corner – hiding in every room. We spread out around the building, combing through the hallways, until we come to a large door on the end. Eight guards are crouched here, guarding it, waiting for us.

  They let loose a barrage of gunfire, and I dive behind the corner of the wall.

  “They gotta be protecting Klaus!” Uriah yells. “We have to take them out!”

  “Grenade!” I shout.

  I pop a grenade off my belt and chuck it around the corner, bracing myself for the explosion. It detonates, and I hear the screaming, feel the burst of flames and shrapnel. I pop around the corner, seeing four dead guards on the ground. The others are merely stunned, and I take two shots, killing them. Uriah and Vera shoot the final two, and the door is ours.

  We move toward it, noting the security camera sitting in the ceiling. Vera grabs her handgun and shoots the camera point blank. Andrew and Uriah breach the door with a bang! He enters the room first, and I stay on his shoulder, with Andrew and Vera on my tail.

  Inside, the area has been cleared out to form a massive living suite. A canopied bed draped with purple velvet sits in the corner, along with a set of elaborate furniture. In the center of the room, there is a large mahogany table. A large Omega flag is draped above it on the wall, and to the left of the table, there is a living area with a couch. A bulletproof, one-way window overlooks the front entrance.

  And there is Veronica Klaus.

  She is standing in the corner, and the first thing I notice – other than the fact that she is wearing a strangely outdated velvet dress and boots – is that she’s holding a gun. She fires wildly as we enter the room, and we roll aside.

  Uriah dives behind the table, and I make a move to slide behind the couch. I get off two shots, purposely fired directly above her head to disorient her. She screams, and then I make my move. I vault over the couch, slam into her, and toss her gun away. I place my knee on her chest and pin her to the ground, holding my gun against the soft flesh beneath her chin.

  Her perfectly arranged black hair falls in disheveled pieces around her face as she curses me in a language I don’t understand.

  “Get the door,” I tell Vera.

  She stations herself at the door, ready. Andrew and Uriah haul Veronica to her feet and force her to sit on the edge of the couch. She holds her chin up, a captivating sneer touching her lips.

  “So,” she says. “You’ve come to kill me.”

  “As tempting as that is,” I reply, standing above her, “we didn’t come here for you. We’re looking for Abbi and Mary Banner. We know you have them, and we’re not leaving without them.”

  At this, Veronica raises an eyebrow.

  “Oh,” she remarks. “I see.”

  “You’re going to tell us what we need to know,” I say. “Or we will just kill you and search the entire compound ourselves. That would suck for you, so I suggest you cooperate, Veronica.”

  “It’s Chancellor Klaus,” she hisses. “You really should show respect, Commander. I do. And let’s face it, of the two of us, I have far more power than you. So address me with respect.”

  “You’ve done nothing to earn it,” I snap. “The first family – where are they? And where are my men? I know you’re holding several of my Angels here.”

  “What makes you think that?’ she asks coyly.

  She’s stalling, I realize. She’s waiting for backup to arrive.


  I grab Veronica by the throat of her dress, pressing the gun into her cheek.

  “I swear to God, Veronica,” I grit, “I will kill you if you don’t tell me what I need to know! Where are my men? And where is the first family?”

  Veronica stares at me, a flash of terror in her always icy gaze.

  “We’re right here.”

  I look up. A woman is standing in an archway that leads to another bedroom. She is very beautiful – soft brown skin, black hair pulled into a loose chignon, wearing a gray pantsuit. Beside her, there is a little girl with the same hair color, wearing jeans and a silk blouse, her hair curly and free.

  “First Lady Banner,” I say, relief flooding through me. “You’re alive.”

  The first lady smiles.

  “Thank God,” she breathes. “I thought we’d never be rescued.”

  ***

  Uriah presses his gun against the back of Veronica’s head, and I walk to Abbi Banner.

  “Mrs. Banner,” I say, offering a hand. “I’m Commander Cassidy Hart, and this is my unit. We’re going to get you out of here.”

  “President Banner sent you, didn’t he?” Veronica snarls. “What did he think this will achieve – some kind of upper hand? It means nothing to me if the first lady lives or dies, or her spawn of a child.”

  I squeeze Mary’s shoulder, and she looks up at me with wide eyes.

  “Nice to meet you,” I say. “I’d love to chat, but we’re on a tight schedule.”

  “I know where they’re holding your men,” Abbi says, taking my hand. “They hold prisoners in a building on the back of the compound: POW Zone. I watched them being brought in just a few days ago. To my knowledge, they’re still alive.”

  “They’re dead,” Veronica spits.

  “You’re lying,” I reply.

  “Maybe.” She smiles. “Maybe not.”

  Uriah says, “And what do we do with the chancellor while we’re getting the Angels out?”