War Games_Valiant Knox

by Jess Anastasi

  He’d thought it only polite to join his guests while they ate, even though he hadn’t been all that thrilled at the idea of sitting down to eat with Jordie Brenner’s little sister. However, in the coming days, they’d practically be in each other’s laps, so the quicker he got used to her, the better.

  And he hadn’t thought Seb and Bren had been serious about the eating challenge they’d thrown down earlier in the afternoon, but that hadn’t been in jest, either.

  The pair of them had picked a single dish—the double cheese and bacon burgers the base’s cook liked to whip up when he was feeling generous—and laid bets on how many they could devour.

  True to her word, Bren had eaten Seb under the table, though he’d never have believed it unless he’d seen it with his own eyes. While she wasn’t solidly built, she also wasn’t a stick. She came into that healthy, somewhere in between, where she had the muscle and body to cope with the physical demands of being a soldier and fighter pilot—sexy as hell.

  Speaking of which, he had no idea how she was out here running up the punishing hill a mere two hours after finishing all that food. If it’d been him, he would have gone and sat very still somewhere for at least a few hours. Seb had muttered something along those lines as he’d left the commissary with a hand on his stomach, like maybe that’d help keep the contents where they were meant to be.

  And these were the specially trained soldiers who were meant to accompany him on the very dangerous journey behind enemy lines in the morning. Given their training was more about flying jets, but all fighter pilots went through testing to make sure they could survive in enemy territory as part of the requirements to join the exclusive FP squad.

  Memories of Jordie stood between them like a physical wall. It was a solid barrier he had no interest in breaking down, but it made communication with her rife with difficulties.

  Bren broke the stretched silence by turning away and taking a few steps toward the steepest drop-off. It was dotted with scrub and overgrown grasses down to the base’s electrified fence. It also had the best view over the distant forest and setting sun. She crossed her arms, golden-orange light making her skin look flawless and smooth. Touchable.

  He could have told her good evening and started the easy jog back to his bunk, but instead, his feet took him over to stand next to her.

  “I can’t remember the last time I saw a sunset. Must have been over a year at least,” she murmured, though whether it was to herself or directed at him, he couldn’t tell.

  “I run up here nearly every night to watch it go down.”

  This was why he never could have taken a posting on a ship. He couldn’t imagine not seeing a sunset for over a year. Such a simple thing, but it kept him grounded, reminded him that in the scheme of things, there was a bigger, wider universe out there, and the problems here on Ilari weren’t the beginning and end of everything.

  Although, given what Seb had found out, if the war escaped this system and made it to the rest of the galaxy, then the beginning and end being here might be more accurate than he’d ever thought.

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude on your routine.”

  “No harm done,” he returned, possessed by the need to repeat her own words back to her. She sliced him a sideways look, and he held her gaze, as though they were taking each other’s measure.

  “Do you think it’ll work?” she asked, expression unreadable.

  “What?”

  “Your mission. Contacting the rebels. Negotiating to provide weapons and supplies. Fighting alongside them.”

  He hadn’t thought that far ahead—he liked to cross his bridges as he came to them. They might not even find the rebels, or the group might refuse to make contact with them. Initially, he was first and foremost focused on crossing the lines and getting into enemy territory. Once they made the rendezvous point, then he’d implement phase two.

  “I don’t do what-ifs,” he answered. “Worrying about things that might not happen is a waste of energy. Deal with what you’ve got and push forward. That’s the way I do things. Maybe this mission will work, maybe it won’t. Those are variables for another day.”

  Her brow creased, as if she were trying to figure out a puzzle in her mind.

  “But you hope it works out, right? You’re not some droid. You’ve got wishes and dreams like the rest of us.”

  “Hopes don’t often factor into war.”

  Something in his answer surprised her, if the shift in her expression was anything to go by.

  The last slither of sun dropped below the horizon, leaving the world a little dimmer, breaking the momentary accord, reminding him of exactly who he was talking to. He stepped back. “I’m heading down. Got an early start in the morning.”

  She murmured a quiet agreement.

  With a respectful parting nod, he fell into a jog, going back the way he’d come.

  That conversation had been… Not odd. And not awkward. Perhaps diffident was the right way to describe it. While he’d agreed against his better interests to let her tag along on his mission, and while he didn’t hate her, he certainly didn’t know if he could trust her, and he didn’t have the time or inclination to make nice. Maybe that was harsh, but he had a mission to accomplish, and using half his mental energy trying to figure out Theresa Brenner wouldn’t be conducive to success.

  Chapter Three

  The air was crisp and cold, the sky still dark when Bren shouldered her pack and stepped out of the barracks, Seb along with her.

  Stars were flung like a fistful of powdered snow across the black above them. It always amazed her how different the galaxy looked from the ground rather than a ship. In space, it had no context, no depth. But from here, she could see how ancient people had been so easily mystified and awed by the cosmos.

  She hadn’t slept very well last night—it had been strange hearing insects in the distance and other nature night sounds instead of the constant hum of the Valiant Knox’s engines and a million other electrical currents keeping the ship running.

  Not only that, but her mind hadn’t stopped spinning. Shen was out there somewhere, alone, behind enemy lines. Any number of things could happen before they got to her. She could be injured after ejecting from her jet. If the CSS captured her, they’d put her in one of those horrible reeducation camps.

  When Bren hadn’t been worrying about the fate of her fighter pilot, she’d been going over the fact she’d be following Colonel McAllister this morning. She’d also unhelpfully replayed their brief encounter on the top of the hill at sunset over and over, analyzing it a thousand different ways. Because it had completely thrown her.

  She hadn’t expected to come across him while out on her jog, so her usual defenses hadn’t been up. And when it had become apparent that he was checking her out in the workout gear that was much more fitted than her uniform, she hadn’t been pissed about the unwanted and unexpected attention. Actually, it had made her pulse skip, which had stunned her. Almost as much as him owning it when he realized he’d been caught. Not knowing what to say at his forthright apology, she’d made a joke, but he’d turned the tables on her and in another blink had been shirtless.

  If he’d been any other guy, she would have said he was flirting with her. But surely not. No way. Not Cameron McAllister. Their mutual dislike was all they had in common. But that hadn’t stopped her pulse from thrumming at the sight of his very well-toned muscles.

  It didn’t mean anything. She was a woman with eyes, and any girl would have to be blind not to get a little hot and bothered over the colonel’s fit physical form.

  Meanwhile, she had no idea how she was meant to look at him ever again without picturing him shirtless and too damned drool-worthy. Loathing him would be so much easier if he weren’t so damned hot. As it was, her traitorous hormones were doing their best to soften the edges of her apathy when it came to him.

  As a result, she was running on way less sleep than she would need this morning.

  Neither she no
r Seb attempted any conversation as they hurried across the base. Though her brain told her she still should be asleep, and her thoughts were a little slow, her body was lit up with a low dose of adrenaline circulating through her system at the knowledge that in a few hours they’d be well into enemy territory and facing danger with every step.

  Colonel McAllister had told them to meet him at the perimeter boundary five hundred meters west of the rec building. She wasn’t about to start questioning orders, but had been wondering how their little group of six was going to leave the base without even the guards seeing them.

  He was turning into a puzzle, and she hated puzzles.

  She hadn’t expected to find such depth to him and got the feeling she’d only scratched the surface when they’d talked briefly the night before. So far, nothing he’d done jelled with what Jordie had told her about him. Of course, it had been nearly a decade ago, so McAllister had definitely grown up a lot since then—something her brother had lost the chance to do.

  However, they hadn’t crossed the battle lines yet. And a person’s true colors were usually revealed under stressful situations. She wasn’t ready to make any decision about him until she witnessed him in action.

  Not that she needed to make any decisions about him. Once Seb and she rescued Shen, they could return to the Knox and this little mission would be an anomaly. She wouldn’t need to work with McAllister ever again, so things would go along as they always had—it wouldn’t matter to her what kind of soldier or man he was, because they didn’t have to deal with each other.

  As they rounded the rec building, she spotted a group of dark shapes standing down along the fence approximately five hundred meters, like McAllister had told them. When they joined the waiting men, someone handed Seb and her a couple of guns each—two pistols, one a sidearm and one a thigh holster, and a larger rifle that clipped onto their vest and could either be carried or slung to the side.

  They were old fashioned, nowhere near as advanced as the UEF weaponry. However, if they came across any CSS patrols once they crossed enemy lines, it would be less risky if the CSS believed they were rebels, not UEF military. Any advanced guns would give away the game, which was also why they were going dark on this mission and not taking any comms. In case of extreme emergency, there were radios sown into the lining of their packs, but otherwise, they wouldn’t take any tech to the CSS side of the battle lines that would identify their true allegiance.

  McAllister murmured an order, making it easier to pick him out of the soldiers in the near-pitch darkness. One of the men was holding a datapad and with a few taps on the screen, a section of the electrified fence stopped buzzing.

  Another man lifted the wire just far enough for them to belly-slide one at a time under the barrier. Wow, when McAllister said he didn’t want anyone to see them leaving the base, he really meant it.

  No one said anything as, one by one, they shoved their packs under and then slipped through the opening. Once everyone was through, they set a fast pace away from the base.

  Though she had a vague idea of where the battle lines were from here, she couldn’t see that anyone was using a map or GPS. The colonel and his men no doubt knew the lay of the land around the base so well they could have walked it with their eyes closed and still found their destination.

  After half an hour, they reached the forest and a little while later, a vehicle strategically parked and camouflaged with a strapping net like they used in cargo holds on ships.

  The colonel’s men uncovered the vehicle, now exchanging a few words between themselves. They opened the rover, and the colonel grabbed a bundle out of the back.

  She had a quick sip of water from her canteen as McAllister came to where she stood next to Seb.

  “We’re changing into civilian clothing so we blend in once we cross into CSS territory.” He handed over some garments and then indicated the vehicle. “This’ll get us to the lines quicker, but after that, we’ll be on foot.”

  “This is starting to seem familiar,” Seb muttered as he shook out the clothes.

  She’d read the report after he’d returned from the secret mission into CSS territory for Command Intelligence, the one she hadn’t known he’d been tasked with until after the fact. It’d sounded dangerous, and he’d been attacked by a patrol of CSS soldiers. She’d never imagined she’d be doing the same thing herself.

  Dropping her pack, she checked over the garments—they were probably intended for a small man, not a woman. Modesty was the last thing on her mind as she shucked her pants and swapped them for the plain ones. Privacy on a ship like the Knox was hard to come by, and the FP squad change rooms were unisex, anyway. Getting changed in front of men had ceased being a problem a long time ago. Besides, it wasn’t like she was getting completely naked. Her underwear and singlet top covered the exact amount of skin her bathing suit did, and doing laps in the squadron’s gym pool was her favorite exercise.

  She used the belt from her uniform because the pants were a little too baggy. The body armor she’d been wearing over her T-shirt went over her singlet, then the shirt fastened on top of that to keep it concealed. Last, she put on the thick, tight woven woolen jacket, before chucking her uniform in the pile with the rest.

  Though she told herself she was imagining things, she could have sworn McAllister had his attention on her, even though every time she snatched a glance in his direction, he wasn’t looking at her.

  Dammit. This was exactly what she didn’t need—some weird awareness of him growing between them. It had to be because of the whole shirtless thing the night before. They’d crossed some invisible line, and now there wasn’t simple loathing between them any longer.

  As the others threw their packs into the vehicle and started to climb into the back, the colonel intercepted her, holding up a hand and indicating he wanted her to wait.

  He didn’t say anything until all the others had disappeared into the rover and the engine had rumbled quietly to life.

  “You’re going to have to do something about that.” He speared her with a hard look, like she should have a damned clue what he was talking about.

  “Sir?” She didn’t like getting singled out at the best of times, let alone by Cameron McAllister. At least he was smart enough not to do it in front of the others.

  “Your hair.”

  He couldn’t have stunned her more if he’d ordered her to turn around and march herself back to base. But the shock gave way to anger. Was he starting to show those true colors? All the things Jordie had told her came flooding back in a clear rush, like she’d only spoken to him yesterday. And with that, came the pinch of pain she always got. A scar on her heart the only thing left of the older brother she’d adored.

  “What about it?” The words came out as more of a challenge than an innocent query.

  McAllister crossed his arms and set his shoulders back, obviously realizing he had a fight on his hands. His slate gray eyes were diamond hard, the early morning light catching the strands of silver in his close-cropped salt-and-pepper hair.

  “I don’t know how they do things on the Knox, but down on the ground, we like to minimize exposure. Maybe while you’re flying around safe in your ship you can indulge yourself—”

  “Indulge myself?” She took a furious step closer to him, but he kept going like she hadn’t even spoken.

  “But, I’m not willing to risk my men so you can look good. Cut it off or cover it up. I don’t care. You’re not crossing the lines unless you do something about it.”

  She clenched her fists, incredulous anger burning in her chest, with a touch of disbelief he’d gone there. Never in her whole career had she wanted to punch another soldier. But right then, she could have happily planted her fist in McAllister’s face.

  “I don’t have scissors or anything to cover it with. So how would you like me to proceed?” The words came out far calmer than she would have expected, given how her temper had reached flash point. But they did have just the slightest
hint of sarcasm.

  McAllister reached into his pocket and pulled out a light scarf, as if he’d been planning to spring this on her the whole time. Who knows? The bastard probably had.

  He held it out between two fingers, and even that was condescending.

  “You’re an ass.” She snatched it from him and crushed it in her fist.

  “That’s you’re an ass, sir. And I’m the ass who’s going to make sure we get through this alive. You wanted to come on my mission, you do things my way.”

  Without waiting for a reply, he spun on his heel and marched to the front passenger side of the rover. With an expletive sigh, she stomped over and climbed in the back where Seb and three of the other soldiers were already seated.

  As she sat down, she flipped the scarf over her head and tied it firmly, tucking as many stray curls beneath it as she could.

  Seb, who was seated across from her, raised an eyebrow as the vehicle jerked into motion.

  “Don’t ask,” she practically growled.

  He gave a nod and then turned his gaze to the front, and she got the feeling he was staring at the back of the colonel’s head, not out the windshield at the forest.

  Jordie had told her time and again McAllister was a stubborn, uncompromising ass, to the point he wouldn’t deviate from a plan or decision, even if it put others at risk. And that had been where things had gone wrong on their fateful mission. McAllister and Jordie had been the only two soldiers to survive out of an elite insertion squad of seven on a black-ops mission.

  According to her brother, McAllister’s stupid stubbornness had gotten the others killed, and the only reason Jordie survived was because he’d gone against orders. But he hadn’t been able to live with the guilt. She’d thought he was fine, that he was recovering. But then on his next mission—

  She cut off the line of thinking as her heart ached. The man sitting in the front of this rover, the man in charge of this mission, was responsible for that pain. She’d forgotten that last night, when she’d come across him on top of the hill at sunset.