Shadows of Ash (The Nameless Book 2)

by Adrian J. Smith

  Booth looked at Sofia for approval.

  “She’s twenty-one,” she said, shrugging her shoulders.

  Ryan took a deep breath and looked at his team. Cal, his wife, her eyes alert as always. He was still getting used to her buzz cut and the fact that she was still alive. Her brow was creased in concentration. He knew, without asking, what she was thinking. How were they going to get out of this mess? She would also be thinking that they needed to lift their morale. The Nameless did it best when they shared stories. Stories of childhood. Of university, stolen kisses, and lost loves. Of hopes and dreams. When one had hope, one had determination. Determination was a great motivator. It could be your desire to see a loved one, to be reunited. It could be to stop someone evil, or to fight for a cause you believe in.

  Ryan glanced at Booth. “Whatever happened to weird Kevin?”

  “Weird Kevin?” Booth laughed. “Now that’s a name I haven’t heard in a while.”

  “Why did you guys call him weird Kevin?” Allie said.

  “It wasn’t meant in a mean way. The guy was a machine – never complained. We could trek through the desert for hours on end and he always had a smile or a joke. He was great for morale, that Kevin.” Booth paused and refilled his glass. “One of the lads caught him sniffing his belt like it was covered in catnip and called him weird Kevin. It kind of stuck, like names do in the Army.”

  Ryan raised his glass. “To Kevin. Wherever you are.”

  Allie shrugged and took a sip of her whiskey.

  “Tell them about Rodney MacLeod,” Booth said, nudging Ryan.

  “No way.”

  “Go on. It’s not that embarrassing.”

  “Rodney MacLeod?” Cal asked. “I haven’t heard this story.”

  The ensuing chorus of pleading jolted the memory from Ryan. He cringed. Booth was correct to a point – it wasn’t really embarrassing.

  “C’mon, Connors,” Booth pressed. His speech was slightly slurred now.

  “There’s nothing to tell. In any case, it was a long time ago.” Ryan sipped his whiskey, enjoying the amber liquid.

  Allie and Cal groaned. “C’mon,” they both said.

  “All right. Fine. Now keep in mind, this happened before I met Cal. I was still young and full of myself. I’m sure you can attest to the allure of the Army uniform, or Air Force. Any uniform, really. Girls loved it. In school, no one paid me an ounce of attention. Suddenly I was in the Army and girls noticed me. All we had to do was walk into a bar in uniform and snap—” Ryan clicked his fingers. “We had girls around us wanting photos, asking us questions. Wanting to ride in our trucks or tanks. Fire a gun.”

  “Get a bit of an ego?” Cal laughed.

  “You could say that, yeah. There was an older guy, a corporal. Rodney MacLeod. I knew his family from back home. Notorious, they were. Fighters, scrappers, troublemakers. Always looking for a fight. My little group did everything to avoid visiting the same bars as Rodney. For some reason, the ladies were attracted to his bad-boy status. So this time we found ourselves in Honolulu and met up with Booth and his crowd. They took us to a few bars. We were having a good time. Jonesy – one of my mates – loved Polynesian women. We were sitting at a table, chatting up some locals, when who walks in? Rodney bloody MacLeod.”

  Ryan looked at Booth, then the others. Even Keiko was listening. “He strode over – though I should say he swaggered over like he owned the place – squeezed between Jonesy and me, looked the two beautiful Hawaiian girls dead in the eye and said…”

  “‘All right, lads. I’ll take over from here,’” Ryan and Booth said in unison.

  Booth laughed, a deep chortle at first, and before long he was clutching his side and snorting through his nose. In between gasps, he said, “Connors came over to me with his tail between his legs like the school bully had taken his lunch money.”

  Cal, Allie, Sofia, and Keiko chuckled and shook their heads.

  “What happened with the girls?” Allie asked. “Did they go off with this Rodney?”

  “Like he was the last man on Earth,” Booth said, still laughing.

  The group fell silent as everyone escaped into their own memories. Cal took his hand and kissed it. “I’m glad you weren’t like that when I met you. I probably wouldn’t have gone on a date with you.”

  “I wouldn’t have gone on a date with me back then. Arrogant as heck.”

  “Weren’t we all, at that age. Remember Liam?”

  Ryan groaned. “Ugh. That’s right.” He blinked away the tears forming in his eyes. Five years had passed since his death and it was still raw. Still too much emotion. Life could be so cruel at times. It could fill you with so much joy and love, and in an instant, take it away. He pulled Cal into a hug and held her, enjoying the warmth of the woman who shared his grief.

  “If we get out of here, I have an idea for stopping wave two,” Sofia said.

  “You mean other than nuking Offenheim to hell?” Cal said.

  “That would be a sight to see.” Sofia leant forward and looked at everyone in turn. “Weather stations use satellites to gather information. They have powerful radios and communication equipment. We can use one to send a signal using the codes. Stop wave two from happening everywhere.”

  Was it possible? Ryan dared to hope. “All you need is that station and you can send the signal?”

  “With a bit of tweaking, yes. I mean, I need to write some code, with Avondale’s help. Work out a few algos.”

  “Confident?”

  “About eighty percent.”

  Ryan looked at Cal. “You’ve been inside the satellite installation. Do you think it’ll work?”

  His wife brought her fingertips together, forming a steeple. “Possible. I never saw the control room. But I must play devil’s advocate here. Why would OPIS go to all this trouble only to be vulnerable to a single beam of code? It’s not logical. Like a huge flaw in a meticulously thought-out plan. I do know they’ve worked toward this for over forty years, and The Eyrie has an array of powerful radio telescopes.”

  Ryan paced back and forth. Cal was right. It was too simple. Sofia was a computer genius. She could hack into nearly anything. Even if they had Avondale, they would struggle to stop the second wave. They had to kill the source. Destroy The Eyrie. Or…

  “Is The Eyrie their HQ?” he said.

  “It’s their communication hub, yes. But Offenheim will be expecting us. He wants us to attack. Killing you isn’t enough. Because it’s a game – the end goal is to torment you for as long as possible,” Cal said.

  “Be that as it may, we must. If he wants to kill us, then at least we do it fighting. We die knowing we saved at least a few people.”

  Ryan continued to pace, an idea forming. Destroying The Eyrie would be difficult. If – and it was a big if – they had military help, then yes, it was possible. He pivoted. “Sofia. What if we took out their satellites instead? Is that a possibility?”

  “With missiles?”

  “Not what I was thinking. With other satellites. Is that possible?”

  “Huh. I mean, yeah, it is.” Sofia’s fingers tapped the screen of her tablet. “Satellites have propulsion systems, and LK3 has satellites. In theory, we could use one of ours to hit one of theirs, but there’s a ton of variables. First, I would need to find the right satellite, track its trajectory, calculate a collision course – if that’s even possible.” She sighed and rubbed her eyes. “I don’t know, Ryan. We would need to transmit signals to our satellites, and I’d need Avondale’s help and lots of time.”

  “So it’s possible. That’s what I’m asking?”

  “In short, yes.”

  Ryan turned in a semi-circle, looking at each of The Nameless. “Think about it. It’s better than attacking The Eyrie on a maybe. We’re not soldiers. We were trained to infiltrate, to observe, to sneak out. To get assets out of sticky situations, keep it quiet. This is more our style. OPIS and Offenheim won’t see it coming.”

  The Nameless agreed with
nods and smiles. Cal draped her arms around his shoulders.

  Booth grunted. “All right, Connors. Just where can we do this?”

  Ryan broke away from the embrace and looked at Booth and Allie. “Dutch Harbor in the Aleutian Islands. Remember that North Korean agent we tracked?”

  “The NSA weather station?”

  “The very same.”

  “Of course. I remember all the fancy equipment everywhere.”

  “The NSA?” Allie asked.

  “It’s a listening post disguised as a weather data station, near Dutch Harbor. Cold, miserable place,” Ryan said. He began pacing again, re-energized by the plan forming in his head, making him all the more determined to escape this prison.

  They had a mission. Get out. Get to Dutch Harbor. Stop wave two.

  The Geiger counter sat on one of the crates, and Ryan spent a few minutes taking readings. It was still hovering around eighty counts per second, no increase. No one had shown any signs of sickness yet. He racked his brain, trying to think of the time it took. What dosage was fatal? But he had to try to forget the radiation for now and focus on getting out.

  He grabbed a couple of water bottles and sat back down on a futon bed. “Reading is still eighty counts per second.”

  Sofia grunted and looked up from her tablet. “I’ve been thinking about our idea for destroying their satellites. I know where LK3s are, and I could possibly figure out where the OPIS satellites are, but I really need to contact Avondale. I need his help and expertise.” Her fingers flew over the screen as she flicked through the pages of data. “Allie. Do you know of any airports around here?”

  “Why? What’s the point?” She drained whiskey and reached for the bottle. Booth moved it out of reach.

  “Give it,” Allie said, her tone stern. Booth handed it to her, and she filled her glass. “Yes, I know where the nearest airport is. Yes, I could find an airplane, refuel it. Fly us home. But—” She stared at Sofia. “How the bloody hell can I do that when we’re stuck in here, our only company radiation that is slowly but surely killing us?”

  Allie shook her head and walked from the room, her gait off balance as her angry footsteps faded out of earshot.

  Sofia raised her hands, palms facing the ceiling. “What did I do?”

  Booth stood. “She’s not one of us. Not used to our endearing optimism.” He jogged to catch up with Allie.

  Twenty

  Tomari Nuclear Power Plant

  Hokkaido, Japan

  Allie fumed as she stomped from the room. Her decision to join The Nameless and their mission had been stupid. Yes, she liked the idea of doing something positive, and their success at Yamada Tower had felt good. Really good. Great, even. It was the same feeling she got when she delivered aid to those in need. Flood victims. Famine victims, or innocent civilians caught up in a civil war. Helping those in need was what had attracted her to enlisting. In anything, there was a level of risk, sure, but this? This was insanity. She would never have guessed she’d find herself trapped inside a nuclear power plant that was slowly leaking radiation to kill them. If they didn’t kill each other first. She clenched her fists at her side and battled to regain control of her emotions. She made a mental note to apologize to Sofia.

  “Hey, wait up,” Booth called after her.

  “Not now, Booth. I just want to be alone.”

  “I have chocolate.”

  Allie stopped walking and pivoted. “You think chocolate is the answer? Is chocolate going to cure the radiation?”

  “Well, no. But it tastes good,” Booth said, his smile lopsided.

  She stared at him. His hair was a little messy, but stylish. His clothes were dusty from the night’s exertions. His blue eyes shone with youthful vigor despite the creases in his face betraying his advancing age. Much to her disdain, she liked him. Liked him a lot. He was cheeky and carefree, at times reckless. He seemed to operate on a whim. She had seen him totally focused and serious when on a mission, and she had seen him cracking jokes and being spontaneous. Not at all like the guys she usually dated.

  She sighed and took the chocolate. “Fine. But only because I’m hungry.”

  “Of course.” Booth smiled again. They sat on the floor with their backs up against metal cupboards, staying silent while munching on the sugary treat.

  “You know, I never wanted to be a commercial pilot. It sort of just happened. Did you ever think you would end up where you did?”

  “No.”

  “What made you become an operative then?”

  “Much like Connors, I lost someone close to me to an act of terrorism.” Booth looked away, staying silent. Allie let it go, not wanting to press him. She knew of many others still raw from such events. “I’m guessing you were a jock at school.

  Booth chuckled, his face growing red. “I dreamed of playing for the Vikings as a quarterback.”

  “What, so you could lose in the play-offs every year?”

  “Who’s your team then?”

  “None.”

  “That’s a cop out. You must have a team. What about your father?”

  “Cowboys.”

  Booth chuckled again. “What did you want to be, then?”

  “I wanted to fly relief planes for the UN. Do something worthwhile.”

  “Flying commercial isn’t worthwhile? You take people to exotic locations, broaden their horizons.”

  Allie laughed. It was a giggle at first, but it didn’t take long before she was guffawing and holding her side. “Have you flown commercial recently?”

  “Yeah. It’s horrible.”

  They fell silent again, and the machinery behind them hummed.

  “So why didn’t you?” Booth asked.

  Allie shifted her weight and leant against Booth. “Like I was saying on the train, I was an Air Force brat before Dad got his gig with NASA. We moved around a lot. Base to base. I never felt at home anywhere, always just the temporary visitor. As I got into my teens, I realized I could get into all sorts of trouble because we were always on the move and I could run away from it. I’ve always run instead of facing my problems. Did it in the Air Force. Something happens that I don’t like, I put in a transfer. Problem solved. After I left, I enrolled in the UN program. I ran into a doctor and his wife. I had been his mistress at one time. So, as always, I ran. As far as I could. To Chicago. Because of my father’s contacts, United asked me to fly for them. Good money, and they look after us. And best of all, I’m always in the air, running – well, flying – from my problems.”

  Allie stood and stretched her back before sitting back down. “What about you? How did you end up with this lot?” She nodded toward the washroom.

  “Well, it became ever apparent that I wasn’t any good at football. As my dad said, ‘You have the quarterback looks, son, just not the arm.’ Mom got sick, so I gave her my college fund to pay for her medication. I didn’t fancy working in construction, so I enlisted. It was hard at first, but little by little I got better. They put me in recon, and I excelled. LK3 came knocking a few months before I was due to be honorably discharged and offered me a place at the Lodge – where they train new recruits. I knew Ryan from before, but that was where I met Cal and Sofia. We formed an immediate bond and were soon working together.”

  “Well, if there’s one shining light to this madness, it was meeting you,” Allie said. They stared at each other for a few moments. There was that awkward silence where neither party is sure about making the first move. It feels natural, but anxiety gets in the way. Allie leant closer, breathed out and kissed Booth on the lips. He smiled and kissed her back, softly at first, then growing in passion.

  Allie pulled out of the embrace. “Wait a minute. Aren’t you married?”

  “Divorced,” he said before kissing her again and squeezing her leg.

  “Kids too?”

  “Yeah. My son’s going to play for the Vikings for sure.”

  Allie punched him lightly on the arm and kissed him again.

  ***r />
  Ryan didn’t fault Allie for being upset. Hell, anyone would be in this situation. The Nameless had years of experience. Years to adopt the mindset of never giving up, no matter how bad the odds were stacked against them.

  “Keiko, how did you end up in the cells where we found you?” Ryan said. “We saw no evidence of you entering the way we did.”

  Sofia’s daughter cast her eyes down. “I wandered around down there and gave up. As a last resort, I asked the head librarian. He got upset – really upset – that I had been down in the archives without permission. Told me to wait in his office while he got the dean. But it wasn’t the dean who showed up. Two security men arrived and took me through an entry by the librarian’s office. Down through a long tunnel and into those labs, through a lot of locked doors. The strange thing was, they never harmed me in any way. They were nice and kind. Gave me food, drinks. Let me watch TV. They said not to worry. It would be all over soon, and I would be free to go.”

  Ryan glanced at Cal. “Your doing?”

  “Sorry, Keiko. I needed you to get your mum, Ryan, and Booth out in the open. It was the best way to keep you safe.” She grimaced. “Sofia, I never said it, but I’m sorry they tortured you. Yamada had promised your safety. I didn’t know he would do that.”

  The two women eyed each other for a few moments. They had been friends for over fifteen years. What Cal had done was hard to comprehend. Ryan thought back to their time in the submarine, how he had agonized over the situation. He asked himself again: How well do you really know someone?

  Cal seemed genuine. She was displaying all the traits. Warmth. Compassion. Sorrow. Her actions since had shown no indication of betrayal. Ryan shook away his doubts. He had to trust his heart. He believed her. He had to. If he didn’t have that, what did he have?

  “I know,” Sofia said. “Let’s move on. Do our jobs. Get the hell out of here and stop Yamada and Offenheim.”

  Ryan picked up the maintenance manual and flicked through it again, stopping on the page detailing the intake pipes and condenser tanks.

  “You have that look in your eye,” Cal said.