Actually, for all they knew Jess could be lying somewhere out of view, out cold in the woods or …
Bianca swallowed.
But Zac couldn’t die, she didn’t care what power the Bok had, not after what she knew he’d been through, and he wouldn’t leave Jess. The Project and the police were in and around the club, the Project discreetly, and neither were talking as if anything like that happened. Drake was still alive. In fact the Project had quite clearly reported across their channels that Jessica left the club and was gone.
Which meant she and Zac could be long gone, depending on how they went, covering so much ground by then with so many possibilities of direction that it became an even bigger, nearly impossible challenge. Maybe they would find their way back to Satori and the Kel fighter hidden in the woods. Maybe they were on their way there now. If they chased Lorenzo and lost him that would be the next logical thing to do.
But what if they’d captured him?
Then they’d also need to get back to the fighter.
Either way that would—should—be their destination. In the meantime Jess and Zac were lost and anything could’ve happened.
“The Project agents are leaving,” Nani said, still doing ten things at once. Bianca overheard their comments on that broadcast. Nani tapped in a live feed of the parking lot, yet another screen on the massive wraparound dome of the bridge that was starting to look like a missile command center, information and videos of all sort becoming difficult to sort through for two people. Bianca’s eyes were starting to hurt. Nani, however, was in the zone.
“There,” she found the car that belonged to the Project, moving toward the exit to the lot even as the communication came that they were leaving. “Wait,” she checked something else and frowned. “Great.” It wasn’t great. She overlaid the tracking blip that was the Kel tablet. Right atop the car the Project was driving. “As we feared. They’re the ones that got the tablet.” She looked to Bianca, then turned back to the image of the car leaving, winding slowly out of the parking lot, finding its way clear and out to the road.
Nani sighed. “Maybe it’s better that way. At least now we have a good way to track them. If a random person or even the police got hold of it … At least the Project will keep it quiet.” And with that she was back to her console.
From the corner of one eye Bianca watched the car leaving; pulled back that scan to see it heading out toward the highway. After a few minutes she shook it off.
And saw something on one of the static images before her. One she’d looked at twice already but this time, right as she looked at it, her eyes went straight to a cluster of bodies at the upper left. Something odd about it. Two people, standing close to a group surrounding a few motorcycles, others in the crowd doing other things. What was it about them? From above it was hard to gauge height or other features and, frustratingly, she’d already discovered how many dark-haired men there were at that resolution and from that perspective that looked like Zac. There were just as many girls who looked like Jess.
But these two caught her eye where before they obviously hadn’t. She ran the corresponding video, moments before the image, through it and beyond and …
One of the guys, image tiny but there it was, grabbed a guy on a motorcycle, lifted him with one hand and tossed him away. A girl standing beside him then got on the motorcycle. The action was nearly lost among the rest of the activity but …
There it was.
“That’s them!”
* *
“She knew we were going to be there,” Bobby said from the back seat of the car. He rode with Drake and two other agents in a non-descript sedan, heading down the Autopista into the rising sun. Drake sat in the front passenger seat.
“She had to,” Drake agreed. They’d been puzzling over the entire situation, more so now that they were clear of the scene and driving along in relative peace. There was rarely any real “peace”, but this was one of those moments to sit and think.
Slowly Drake looked over the tablet in his lap. It had to be Bok. Which meant it could, in fact, be alien. Not of Earth. Something from the Bok’s fantastic history.
Drake was dying to get hold of them. To crack their organization and its secrets.
What the hell did they do back there?! He couldn’t get over it. Would never get over it. That invisible wall of force … More technology? Was it truly generated by Lorenzo? Some sort of psychic manifestation? Or did he possess some other form of alien device, something that could project energy; a concealed gravity gun, perhaps, that could knock things down. It certainly wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility. Nothing much was at that point.
Drake held the tablet up in the early morning sun and studied its edges. No sign of entry points, no battery case, no buttons, no nothing. Just one smoothly formed surface with a screen on one side.
Did the Bok build it? How? Or was it something from their past? A thousand-year-old device brought to Earth when the first of them came?
Maybe it wasn’t Bok at all.
“Sir,” the other agent in the back with Bobby got his attention. He was the head of their delta unit. “My guys are telling me they got one.”
Drake turned in his seat.
“Lorenzo?” That would be an epic coup.
But they weren’t that lucky.
“No, sir. One of the others. Went to ground in the city after fleeing the scene. They picked up some local police traffic and zeroed in on the chase. Managed to get to him before the locals did.”
It wasn’t Lorenzo but Drake was satisfied. This was perfect. Anyone from within the Bok organization—not just a wannabe mercenary they employed but a real member of the Bok—was a huge score. This could be big.
“Where are they taking him?”
“On their way to the safehouse.”
Drake looked down at the tablet.
Wondering just how much the girl knew.
There was now far too much at risk. “Institute Alpha Protocol,” he said. “We’ll meet them there and see what we’ve got.”
“Yes, sir.”
Alpha Protocol would severely cut their ability to communicate. It was, in essence, a total blackout. The only way to be absolutely sure. The Project’s methods of encryption were tighter than any in the world, but in the face of these events Drake wondered if they’d somehow been hacked. Too many things didn’t add up. They were, after all, dealing with something that was quite possibly out of this world. He looked down at the tablet in his lap. If the girl had access to technology that allowed her to tap their comm channels and know what they were doing …
So much may already have been compromised. For all he knew the tablet was a listening device. Or a tracker. Likely as not it was both.
Time to run silent.
CHAPTER 35: DOWN ON THE FARM
Crack! a big branch broke somewhere far off in the woods. Jess jerked alert; snapped her head around the trunk she’d been leaning against, toward the noise. A few more cracks, then a voice:
“Jessica!”
It was Zac.
“Here!” she yelled, jumping up. At last. She shook off the leaves, brushing frantically at her filthy legs.
“Hey!” He ran up, shirt untucked but mostly still on, shoes and vest gone. He came to her in a rush and grabbed her up in a hug. She squeezed him back, absolutely relishing his sudden presence. It felt like she’d been sitting there forever.
He pulled back to look down at her, still holding her off the ground in his embrace. She craned her neck around his broad chest, peering into the forest the way he came.
“Did you catch him?” she asked, impatient. “Where is he?”
He set her to her feet. “I didn’t catch him,” he said and her heart sank. But Zac continued. “He kept going the way he was, didn’t try to turn around. I got the idea to follow him, to see where he would go, thinking he might lead us somewhere. I mean, that’s what we’re trying to find, right? Bok bases or anything like that? Once he knew we were off his
tail he slowed but kept going.” Zac shrugged a little, hoping the decision he’d made was okay. “I was curious to see where he ended up.”
Jess had been expecting Zac to return with their prize, bound and gagged and ready to take back to the others.
But maybe this was better. “So where did he go?”
“A farmhouse.” Zac nodded his head in the direction from which he’d come. “Not far, actually, in a straight line. I think that was where he was headed when we were chasing him. Maybe he was hoping to face us with backup. Some of the others were there.”
“From the club?”
Zac nodded. “Two were there when Lorenzo got there, three more arrived right after him. I watched them a while then decided to come see how you wanted to handle it. It looked like they were waiting for more, but I can’t be sure. I can be back there in no time, but they might not stay long.”
Jess sighed.
Now what?
She probably would’ve done the same thing. If Lorenzo was gathering with the rest of the Bok then this might, indeed, be an opportunity to go all the way. Find out what the Bok were all about and stop them cold. After all, as Zac mentioned, wasn’t that the point of capturing Lorenzo in the first place? To find out more? Well, here they were. Rather than snatch Lorenzo from the club they’d chased him all the way to his hideout. Or a hideout. And so did they take the time to muster the rest of the troops and hope he and the Bok stayed where they were? Should she and Zac go get Satori?
She looked off through the woods, imagining the distance they’d covered, hoping Zac knew the way back to the Kel fighter.
It had been a long chase.
She took a deep breath and turned her eyes to his, understanding why he came to check with her. Why he didn’t act on his own. Things had changed. Dramatically. But the reality was clear. They would have to continue this leg of the mission themselves. There was no time for anything else.
I’m so tired, she thought, suppressing a groan.
She pulled herself straight.
“How far?”
“Close,” he said. “Like I said, I can get there in no time if that’s how you want to do it.”
She had no idea how she wanted to do it.
“It’s a farm?”
“Up on the mountain. Looks abandoned. To be honest I think it’s just a rally point.”
Her mind drifted. She’d been sitting in the cold forest long enough that most of the adrenaline had drained and she was exhausted. She wanted Lorenzo more than ever, but the thought of another chase, any kind of engagement, made her ache.
Then there was the persistent, low-level fear instilled in her during the encounter at the club. A strange, oscillating set of emotions; hatred, the desire to destroy, matched by an uncertain apprehension that Lorenzo could harm, which drove a strong counter-impulse to run. To flee him and his kind. And though she’d already chased him so aggressively, though in moments of terrible clarity she imagined his neck in her hands, an unreasonable urge to kill … that counter-impulse to flee flared within her.
She recalled Lorenzo’s voice in her head.
Fear me!
She looked up. Zac saw the turmoil in her expression and wanted to ask more, wanted to know what troubled her—she could see that he did—but instead he tried to boost her in typical Zac fashion.
“I know it may have screwed things up,” he said and grinned, a mischievous little grin, “but taking that motorcycle and chasing Lorenzo was a pretty baller move.”
She was too exhausted for funny, or thought she was, but the prodding look in his eyes, the little turn at the corner of his mouth … a smile washed over her and she felt a teeny bit better.
“Yeah,” she agreed. “It was pretty baller.” What she’d done, the way she’d ridden a race-ready machine to its limits and beyond, under those circumstances …
Yeah. Pretty baller.
Zac stood back and put his hands on her shoulders.
“When the rest of the Bok show up, if they show up, the whole group may take off again.” He glanced back the way he’d come. “This may be our only chance. I wanted to come check with you, but we need to figure out what’s next. Do I go?”
Jess rolled her neck. Tried to stretch out the kinks. How did she forget the tablet? Such a stupid mistake, even in the midst of the chaos. That should’ve been foremost in her mind, like not forgetting your keys. She and Zac had so much technology, so much at their disposal, the Kel fighter, the Reaver itself yet, somehow, they were on their own. Bianca and Nani must surely be watching, but how to get them a signal? As a child of the 21st century she was so used to being in constant contact, always able to communicate with anyone when needed, always able to be reached. This sense of isolation felt very, very empty.
And then there was that other, nagging fear. She looked into Zac’s face, needing to know yet … not knowing how to phrase the one thing at the front of her mind.
She swallowed.
“Do you think you can stop them?” She didn’t want it to sound like she doubted him. She didn’t. God knew he was strong enough. Only, it was just …
Before she could explain, before she had to, he laughed.
“Of course,” he said, voice unconcerned. Free of reservation. He knew exactly what she was worried about and yet he himself had no worry at all. “I was off balance when he hit me with … whatever that was he hit us with. Neither of us saw it coming. I sure as hell didn’t. We know how it played out from there. First thing I had to do was make sure you were safe. While I was doing that they got away. Fast. Real fast.”
“You weren’t … knocked out?”
Zac shook his head. “Just knocked me back because I wasn’t expecting it. It was nothing. I’ll have to adjust for it if they do it again, which I’m guessing they will, but it won’t be a problem. I think Lorenzo sensed what I was capable of. It looked like he was afraid, actually, when he saw I wasn’t affected. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was why he ran as fast as he did.
“Anyway, that card has been played. There are no more surprises. This time I’ll be ready. Now I know what they can do.”
Jess inhaled, letting her breath out slowly.
This day might never end.
“I wonder if they can all do that? Or … other things.” She didn’t tell him of the speaking in her mind. What if they can freeze us with a thought?
Zac shrugged. “We should assume so. It was something different, that’s for sure. I’ve never run across anything like it.” Then: “Of course, I doubt they’ve ever run across anything like me.” And he hazarded another grin.
She looked into his eyes. Impulsively she hugged him. Pulled herself all the way in, squeezed tight and held on, head against his chest. He hugged her back.
His confidence was contagious.
After a long moment she spoke, though she maintained her embrace.
“Let’s go get them.”
It only took him a second to process the “let’s” part of that; not the plan he was expecting. She felt the hesitation in his silence.
“I don’t want to wait here in the woods again,” she explained, worrying he would make her. “I can’t. I can’t wait here wondering how you’re doing. What’s going on.”
To her relief she felt him nod. “I’ll bring you,” he said. “But I’ll leave you nearby while I take care of them. No getting involved.” He released her and looked into her eyes. “Okay?”
She nodded.
Tenderly he stroked her cheek. She saw the expensive Breitling watch was still intact, even after all the jumping around. He smiled at her and no more words were exchanged. There was no need. They knew exactly what came next, knew exactly what needed to be done. He gathered her up in what was becoming a familiar position, one she’d come to love, held her firmly yet gently in his arms, all limbs accounted for, protected, head against his shoulder, the beat of his heart steady in her ear. The pace of that mighty heartbeat barely changed as he ran, through the trees, up steep ridges and d
own, leaping across the occasional gorge or creek, into the forest, weaving, smooth—so smooth, considering what they were doing—keeping her safe, getting her at last to the clearing near the farm.
They loped the last hundred yards or so and he set her down at the edge of the woods where they faced out on a big farmhouse, the nearest edge just a few dozen paces away. There they crouched. A pond was to one side, naturally formed or decorative, it was hard to tell. Trees dotted the yard, a large barn in the near distance. Spreading out on the far side and plunging off into the valley below was a vineyard, dead vines and wild growth snaking over rows upon rows of latticework. What was once no doubt a thriving little winery. The sun was up, several spans above the horizon, the last mist of the morning burned away.
The real point of interest, however, were the cars. Seven of them Jess could see, maybe more out of sight; shiny new sports cars; Lamborghinis, Ferraris, a few convertibles, one McLaren, all belonging to the crowd of elite-looking young Bok who stood near them. Such a contrast in the rustic setting. A few million dollars worth of colorful, exotic machines dotting the yard, slung low and managing to look both menacing and extremely impractical all at the same time in the tall grass. The Bok just looked bored. Some of them she recognized from the club, though they were a little far off to see faces distinctly as they milled about, talking among themselves. Lorenzo was on a phone, having an animated conversation. It looked like he was mad.
Zac shifted beside her in his crouch, ready to get started.
“There’s a few more now,” he noted. “Sounds to me like they’re talking about leaving.” Of course he could hear their conversations. “Lorenzo is arguing with someone about what happened. The rest seem more interested in what they’re going to do tonight. Sounds like they want to go back into town for the carnival or a parade or something.”
Jess looked at the Bok, in their super swank clothes, trim, fit, handsome and, in the case of the girls among them, exquisitely beautiful. Like some kind of ultra-cool twenty-something clan with a dash of trust-fund-baby entitlement, standing around idly, more worried about what popular thing they were going to do next than any real possibility of danger. Their overconfidence, their obvious attitudes—such affected posing made her sick.
Star Angel: Dawn of War (Star Angel Book 3) Page 37
