by R. D. Brady
Greg scrambled over to them and crouched down next to Maeve. “He okay?”
“No, he’s not. And none of us will be until we get out of here.”
Chapter Eighty-One
Maxwell Air Force Base, Alabama
It was a silent ride back to the barracks. Chris had to duck down in the back seat because with so many top government officials here, there was a ton of extra security.
“You can get up now,” Adam said as he turned down the lane that led to the barracks. Chris knew it was now or never for answers from the reticent soldier. “Do they know where they’re keeping Maeve the others?”
Adam shook his head. “No. And I don’t think that once they do that will protect them.”
Chris frowned. “What do you mean?”
“The one thing that we know for certain is that Maeve, Luke, Greg, Alvie, Snap, and Iggy were all taken by the Draco. The U.S. government has just declared war on the Draco. Destroying them is their priority. It’s in the R.I.S.E. charter. That when the Draco make the move, they must be destroyed. The Council supports that move as well. The peace with the Draco has only been a stopgap. Everyone has known that, including the Draco.”
Chris realized he’d never heard Adam talk this much in the entire time he’d known the man. “So you’re saying even if they find out where they are holding Maeve and the others, they won’t attempt a rescue?”
“No. They have nothing to gain and everything to lose.”
“But Alvie and Snap—”
“They still have Crackle and Pop, or at least still have access to them. Like I said, in the government’s mind they’re replaceable.”
“You mean in Tilda’s.”
Adam didn’t say anything for a long moment. “No, not in her mind. But she’s focused on the greater threat. And the greater threat is the Draco surviving.” He pulled to a stop in front of the barracks and stepped out without another word.
Chris took a deep breath, trying to hold back his anger. He knew the government made decisions based on cost and benefit. He himself had been in military situations where he’d been sent on missions and taken part in discussions about acceptable casualties. He knew in the final calculation that the loss of five lives against the potential devastation of the human race wouldn’t even raise an eyebrow.
But this time, Chris could not go along with that.
Adam strode into the barracks. Chris was right behind him. Norah stood in the middle of the row of bunks, her arms crossed over her chest. Sandra appeared farther down, her face pale as she walked slowly toward them. “Is there any news? Have you found them?”
Adam’s voice softened as he spoke. “No, I’m afraid not.”
Sandra took the news like a blow. She grabbed on to the nearest bunk and held on, swaying for a moment.
“But you do have information,” Norah said.
“Yes. Chris and I are going to get the others back. And we could use some help.”
Norah frowned. “I thought you said you didn’t know where they were?”
“We don’t, not yet. But we’re not going to be able to get them back on our own when we get the information.”
“I’m in,” Norah said.
Sandra nodded as well, her back straightening, her eyes focused. “I am too.”
Chris stepped forward. “You have to understand—the U.S. government is not going to help us. They’ve written them off as acceptable losses. And in all likelihood, they will bomb the location where they are being held whether we are there or not.”
Sandra gasped. But Norah just straightened her shoulders. “I said I’m in.”
Chris gave her a nod.
Sandra nodded. “Me too. Whatever it takes.”
“Good. Then come with me.” Adam strode back toward the door.
Chris kept pace with him. “How are we going to find out where they are?”
“There’s one more person that we need for this team.”
Chris racked his brain, trying to figure out who exactly that would be. Maybe some of Tilda’s special ops guys? “Are you sure we can trust them?”
“We can’t trust him. But we’re going to need him.”
Chapter Eighty-Two
Martin commandeered an office in one of the unused administration buildings. He’d brought Stacy along, who was in communication with the rest of his team.
They had finally initiated the MAURC protocol. Personally, he thought they should have done it years ago. The Draco never should’ve been given the benefit of the doubt. The blight of their existence should have been removed from the planet as soon as it was technologically possible. But it had taken an attack on the R.I.S.E. base to get them to act.
Martin smiled. Of course, if I’d known it was that easy, I would have leaked the location years ago.
Martin himself had learned about R.I.S.E. when he’d been hired by the CIA. The U.S. government had created his position as a safety net for R.I.S.E. His priority was to gather as much information as he could on the Draco bases in case R.I.S.E. didn’t work. He’d been responsible for overseeing the United States’ offensive response in case the Council failed to live up to their bargain or in case the Draco decided to quit playing possum. Hence, the A.L.I.V.E. projects.
A much better use of taxpayer money in Martin’s not even slightly humble opinion. R.I.S.E. had always been a foolish endeavor, an act of eternal optimism. Aliens had no compassion for humans. Humans were continually being abducted to be studied. Tagged like animals in the wild.
Because that’s all we are to them. Animals. Humans were millions of years behind the Draco technologically. Physically, they were vastly superior. It was only a matter of time before the Draco rose up.
And where was the Council in all of this? The group of benevolent beings that the United States had been counting on to keep them safe? Well, those benevolent beings were safe, but humanity was about to get royally screwed.
Martin flipped to the file on his laptop. He kept a listing of all Draco holdings. He’d been given the authority to oversee a takedown of each and every one of them. He’d handed over the information that was critical to the R.I.S.E. command structure, except for a few individual sites that he would have his people handle.
He brought up the most recent image he had of Tatiana. He’d officially met her ten years ago. If he was being honest, though, he’d met her closer to forty years ago. Or at least he’d met her representatives.
He narrowed his eyes as he studied the image of her from Edmonds, Washington. No one knew about the warehouses she owned along the Puget Sound, not until Martin had ferreted that information out five years ago.
To the world, Tatiana was the personification of a wealthy, spoiled aristocrat. She had occasionally been described in the media as having a voracious appetite for lovers. But the media had no idea how right they actually were.
He narrowed his eyes at the image. She stood next to Dietrich, her bodyguard. He towered over her. She almost looked frail in comparison. But appearances, in this case, as in many others, were extremely deceiving. Tatiana was the power of those two. And not just physically.
Although the two of them looked to be about the same age, Tatiana was hundreds of years older. One of the little-known facts about the Draco was that they had extended lifespans. Tatiana, as far as Martin could tell, was easily three hundred years old.
And she was the leader of her people. The Draco were a matriarchal race. Rule passed down from queen to queen. But Tatiana had no offspring. A wise move on her part. Because usually a queen was only displaced when she was killed by her daughter.
Apparently they didn’t like to wait for natural causes to provide them with the throne.
Martin dashed off a message to Stacy. He knew that’s where they would take their captives. Underneath the warehouses was a labyrinth of tunnels that extended underneath the Puget Sound. In fact, within that labyrinth, they had submarine docks that they used to travel back and forth to Antarctica.
He
’d sent an agent into the labyrinths once. The man had worn a camera so that Martin was able to see everything. Most of the rooms were pitch black, although the hallways had some dim lighting. The Draco didn’t need light. In fact, sunlight was often difficult for them to handle. Their eyes were much more sensitive. The tunnels were dank, dark, and humid.
His agent had only been able to investigate the first two levels before he was killed. But it was enough time for Martin to see the laboratories, the submarine docks, and the holding cells. From the state of the place, it had obviously been there for years. It might even predate the establishment of the United States.
A knock sounded at the door. Martin looked up with a growl. It was probably some military aide asking if he needed any additional resources. “Go away!”
He flipped open to a new file, this one describing the traffic patterns in and around the warehouse. The knock sounded again. Martin pushed back from his desk.
I thought military people were supposed be able to take orders.
He yanked open the door. “I said—”
A fist slammed into his face.
Chapter Eighty-Three
Martin flew back with Chris’s first punch. Chris stormed in, following the first cross with a left hook to the ribs and then a right hook to the face. Adam followed him in, saying nothing, simply closing the door behind him.
Martin got his hands up in front of his face as he stumbled back and righted himself. “How dare you—”
Chris threw a kick to his right knee, throwing him off balance before slamming a left cross into his face. Martin flew back once again, this time slamming into his desk. Chris stepped forward to do more damage, when Adam’s hand landed on his shoulder. “We need information.”
Chris knew he was right. But this was the man who had caused so much destruction for his family. He was the one who had tortured Alvie. He needed to feel pain.
Now was not the moment for that. That moment, though, would arrive and soon.
If they were going to cause Martin some pain, it had to have a purpose, and that purpose would be getting the information they needed out of him.
Chris grabbed Martin by the lapels and yanked him up. “Where are the Draco holding Maeve and the others?”
Martin glared at him in response. “How would I know?”
Chris threw a hook into his ribs. Martin grimaced, letting out a little puff of air. Chris shook him again. “Where. Are. They?”
“I wouldn’t tell you even if I—” Martin’s gaze shifted to over Chris’s shoulder, and his face paled. “Joseph.”
Chris glanced back at Adam, who had his usual non-expression on his face. And then he looked back at Martin. “Tell me where they are.”
Some of the cockiness reappeared on Martin’s face. “Why don’t you ask your friend there?”
Chris slammed Martin back against the desk. “Because I’m asking you. And I’m getting very tired of the lack of answers. Let me make this very clear, either you help us, or you die. If anything happens to Alvie or any of the others, you die. If I don’t like the way you look at one of us—”
“Let me guess, I die,” Martin said.
“Now you’re getting it. So where are they?”
Martin stood up straighter. “It may surprise you to know that my death is not something that I’m worried about. The Draco must be destroyed. And I won’t do anything that will interfere with it.”
“But Maeve doesn’t need to die. Alvie doesn’t need to die. Luke, Greg, Snap, Iggy—they’re no threat to anyone.”
“If they’re not human, they’re a threat.” Martin glared over his shoulder at Adam.
Adam stepped forward. “We know the base is on the West Coast. Bring him. We’ll get the information in the air.”
“I’m not going anywhere with—”
Chris’s uppercut stole the rest of his sentence. Martin’s eyelids fluttered as his eyes rolled back into his head before he dropped.
Chris stepped out of the way to make sure the landing wasn’t soft. Then he squatted down and rifled through Martin’s pockets. He pulled out a phone while Adam grabbed the tablet off the desk. Then Adam reached down, and with very little difficulty, threw Martin over his shoulder. “We should go.”
Chris nodded, flicking a glance at the unconscious Martin. He hoped they didn’t run into anyone on their way to the jeep. An unconscious Martin would be difficult to explain.
He opened the door and nearly ran straight into Jasper.
Chapter Eighty-Four
Jasper opened his mouth. Before he could say a word, Chris grabbed him and yanked him into the room.
Mike Bileris was standing just behind him. He stepped into the room quickly and closed the door.
Jasper raised an eyebrow as he caught sight of Martin over Adam’s shoulder. “Well, Mike, looks like we missed all the fun.”
Chris tensed, not sure what he was supposed to do now. He couldn’t let them raise the alarm. And he definitely couldn’t let them take Martin.
Jasper eased back a half step, his hands up. “Hey now, I know that look. We were coming to get the same information you were from Martin.”
“Yeah, but I don’t think you had the same intention,” Chris said.
Jasper put his hand to his heart. “Now that hurts. It really does. After all we’ve been through?”
Chris curled his hand into a fist. Mike shook his head. “Cut it out, Jasper. We’re not here on R.I.S.E.’s behalf. We want to get Maeve and the others out. We were coming to get the information from Martin so that we could initiate a rescue.”
“Why should I believe you?”
Jasper shrugged. “Hell, I wouldn’t. But Alvie is important to R.I.S.E., and the truth is, Mike and I aren’t really thrilled at the idea of sacrificing people if it can be avoided. So here we are.”
Jasper eyed Martin, who was still obviously unconscious. “Although that looks like it might be a bit of a problem.”
“Look, we’re on the same side here,” Mike said. “None of us wants anything to happen to Maeve or the others. So let’s combine forces.”
Chris studied the two of them. They worked for Tilda. And right now as far as he was concerned, Tilda was the enemy. Of course, Adam worked for Tilda too, and yet he was trusting him.
Regardless, they couldn’t leave Mike and Jasper behind because they’d raise the alarm. And he didn’t want to think of the way he would need to silence them.
He glanced over his shoulder at Adam, who gave him a slight nod. Chris took that as acceptance of Jasper and Mike into their little mutiny. “Okay. We’ve got a car outside.”
Jasper smiled. “I see your car and raise you a plane. We’ve got one waiting on the runway.”
Chris raised an eyebrow at that statement.
This time it was Mike who shrugged. “We figured we’d have to do something similar to Martin to get answers, and we wanted to have a quick getaway if needed. The plane’s gassed up, we’ve got clearance, and we’re ready to go.”
“And most importantly, it has a hold full of weapons.” Jasper rubbed his hands together. “So let’s get this party started.”
Mike rolled his eyes and opened the door, shooting a quick look down the hall before stepping out. Jasper followed him. Chris exchanged a quick glance with Adam and then stepped out, hoping he could trust these two and that he didn’t have to kill them.
Because if they in any way, shape, or form interfered with the rescue of Maeve and the others, that was exactly what he would do.
Chapter Eighty-Five
Sandra felt as if her mind was being split into two. One part forced her to do the everyday things that you’re supposed to do: breathe, walk, talk. But the other part was screaming, constantly screaming.
Those things had taken Luke. She couldn’t imagine the terror he was feeling right now. Or maybe she could, because underneath her walking and talking and breathing, she felt it down to her bones. Luke being in danger and not being able to do anything about it w
as destroying her bit by bit each second that passed.
She grabbed an M4 and checked to make sure it was in working order. She grabbed half a dozen magazines and stuffed them into a pack. Norah was on the other side of the room, loading up some heavier artillery. Sandra didn’t recognize all of it, but she did recognize the RPG launcher and the armor-piercing rounds.
Instead of it scaring her, it gave her a calming sense of resolution. Getting Luke and the others back was going to be its own kind of war. Those creatures had been close to indestructible. And they were going to need as much heavy firepower as they could manage. She knew there was a good chance that she wouldn’t come back. That she would fail in trying to get Luke.
But she would rather die than sit quietly and safely somewhere while he was going through hell. She slammed a magazine into the M4 and chambered a round.
Norah looked up from where she was stringing grenades to a belt. Sandra met her gaze, but the other woman didn’t say anything, just gave her a nod and continued her work.
Sandra appreciated that. She wasn’t in the mood to have a conversation. She wasn’t in the mood to talk about how she was feeling. She was feeling rage. She was feeling grief, and if she opened the door to either of those, she wasn’t sure she would be able to close it.
Norah nodded at the stack of crates by the door. “I’ll load those up. You got the rest?”
Sandra placed the M4 in the crate to her right and nodded. “I got them.” Placing the lid over the crate, she picked it up and followed Norah to the waiting jeep. Chris and Adam should have Martin soon, and then they would have a target.
Waiting in the barracks had been sucking at her soul. She thought she’d go crazy if she had to stare at those walls for any longer. Moving, acting, that’s what she needed right now.
That and to kill as many Draco as humanly possible.
