Shadows of Ash (The Nameless Book 2)

by Adrian J. Smith

  The cafe fell silent. Out of habit Lisa checked her weapon and clicked the magazine back in. She didn’t need to do it. She could tell by the weight of it roughly how many bullets she still had. The sound and feel of the action comforted her. Relaxed her.

  “Heads up. I’ve got movement,” Reid said from the window. The faint sound of engines cut through the night. “Two Ford Explorers. Black. Half a click. They’re searching the buildings.”

  “Let’s go. Head for the bridge and keep out of sight,” Lisa said.

  Within seconds, the group was making its way down the alley and out into the side street. No one spoke. Lisa didn’t have to tell them to be quiet. They’d all experienced what the Black Skulls were capable of.

  They drew closer. Lisa spotted two more SUVs heading for the Ross Island Bridge from the side streets. She berated herself for not insisting they keep moving. It was a mistake that could cost them dearly.

  “Under there,” Reid pointed.

  The bridge had been in the middle of being repainted before the world had gone down the tubes, so the steelwork was covered in a lattice of scaffolding.

  “Go!” Lisa said, desperation in her voice. Even though the bikes and scooters were silent, she had no way of knowing what kind of equipment the Black Skulls had. Thermal imaging cameras? NVGs? They could have anything.

  Reid watched their backs as the ever-growing group began to climb. Lisa shook her head and passed the sergeant.

  “It’s going to be a long night.”

  “Just how we like it,” Reid said.

  Thirty-One

  Makushin Bay, Aleutian Islands

  Biting cold wind stung Ryan’s face as he dragged Colonel Dudek’s body outside the NSA listening station. Before dealing with the dead Dudek, he’d found five more explosive devices set by the pilots, disarmed them and added them to his satchel.

  He gritted his teeth and dragged the colonel farther away. His back ached. His kidneys were screaming. Dudek’s punches had been like sledgehammers. Strong, powerful, and accurate. Bludgeoning blows. Ryan was sure he would be coughing up blood and probably pissing it too for the next week. Never had he put his body through so much. In the past week, he had been shot, exposed to radiation, and taken a brutal beating.

  With one last heave, he dumped the body outside the security fence. Staring down at Dudek’s face, he frowned when he saw a tattoo behind the colonel’s ear. Three squares, each smaller than the last, connected by lines. It reminded him of the crop circles that appeared in corn fields. He shook his head. Another mystery.

  Ryan left Dudek to the elements. He really wanted to dump him out in international waters. Traitors didn’t deserve to be interred on United States soil and Dudek had given up that right when he had conspired to kill billions.

  The wind grew in intensity, whipping around his legs and stinging any exposed skin. He jumped inside the chopper. It took him a few minutes to familiarize himself with the radio controls and enter Avondale’s frequency. Sofia had mentioned something about relaying the signal. He shrugged. If he had one weakness, it was communications.

  “Avondale. Do you copy. This is N1.” Ryan repeated the call several times with no luck. He glanced north. The sky was darkening, losing the light of the moon as the storm tracked toward the island.

  “Avondale. This is N1.”

  “N1. I read you. It’s a bad signal. SITREP?”

  “Alive but ops down. Radio busted. Motherboard fried. Request instructions. Over.”

  “Don’t need radio. NSA station hardwired… internet. Sofia will know. Over.”

  “She’s out. Tell me. Over.”

  Ryan could just see the computer genius in his chair, rolling his eyes. Avondale was brilliant at what he did, but like all geniuses, he hated explaining how to do something he considered to be as easy as breathing. Avondale had once worked for the NSA. While with them, he had hacked into terrorist networks, exposing codes and money trails. Highlighted targets for drone attacks. But Avondale wasn’t a killer. After he had learned what his skills were being used for, it had been too much. He broke down. Folded within himself. Became catatonic. The NSA had locked him away in a Baltimore mental institution and pumped him full of sedatives.

  Slowly, over three years, Avondale recovered and escaped. With nothing more than a smartphone, he hacked into the hospital computers, deleted his records, walked out, and found his way to LK3.

  “The station will have backup servers. Replace the ruined with the new and reboot. Log into LK3 like normal. I’ll see and take over remotely. Over.”

  “Wilco.” He guessed that Avondale had some way to do that. He and Sofia always came through for them when they were on a mission. One fact he was certain of, he was glad they were on his side.

  Sleet and snow began to fall as Ryan ran back inside the station. He filled in Cal and, after a bit of searching, found the drawers with server boards stacked neatly and numbered, just like Avondale had said.

  The soldiers, in their haste, hadn’t done a thorough job. Twenty minutes later, all the damaged servers were replaced. He picked up the internal phone.

  Cal answered in seconds. “Are we good?”

  “All done. Servers replaced. How do I reboot?”

  “Red button next to the server deck. Press them so they’re all glowing.”

  “Done.”

  “Is there a keyboard and screen nearby?”

  “Right here. It’s just showing white text like when Liam was coding.”

  “Good. Press Ctrl, Alt, Delete. Just like at home.”

  “You’re kidding? I thought the NSA would have something fancy.”

  “That comes later. Right now, we’re just booting up the operating system. Next, you must enter some codes. Lucky for us, I have the manual.”

  Ryan groaned and followed Cal’s instructions. Fifteen minutes later, the system was up and running. Lights across the board.

  “Are we good?”

  “System’s all go. Nice work. Can you get these bodies out of here?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  It wasn’t a pleasant task, but a necessary one. What made it difficult was that he was moving men who had served the USA. Those who served swore an oath. Swore to support and defend the constitution against enemies both foreign and domestic. And to obey the orders of the president and the officers above their rank. Had these men simply been following Dudek’s orders? Were they innocent pawns?

  Maybe The Nameless were the traitors after all.

  Ryan shook away his doubts. He unequivocally believed in what he was doing. He always had. Sure, he had been born in New Zealand, but when he joined LK3 he became a US citizen. He swore to defend America. As the center of Western democracy, it was where he needed to be. Defend America, defend the democratic world.

  He dragged the bodies outside and covered them with a tarp, making a promise to himself to give them the burial they deserved. Maybe he could get the Nimitz to come back and pick them up. Visions of fields of white crosses flashed through his mind. Crosses that he’d seen in France, Belgium, and Turkey.

  Sofia was up and sitting at the console when Ryan got back down. She rubbed the deep purple bruises on her chest and looked up at him.

  “You look as bad as I feel.”

  “Nice to see you up.”

  “Good job rebooting the system.”

  “Cal and Avondale were the brains. I just did the grunt work.”

  “Usual story, then?” Sofia grinned.

  Ryan grinned back. “Are we going to make it?”

  “It’s possible. In short, I don’t know. I’m in contact with Avondale. Together we can run the calculations, but I’m afraid we may be too late. See this.” Sofia tapped one of the monitors. “This displays all the satellites above North America right now.”

  Ryan let out a low whistle. “There’s hundreds. I mean, I knew there were a lot, but that many?”

  “Most are inactive. Currently there are around nineteen hundred active satellite
s. And that’s just the ones with transponders. Who knows how many orbit the earth, offline or redundant. Incognito.”

  Ryan looked at the screen. Two of the symbols flashed green, while three flashed red. “What are those?”

  “Our two are green. We think those are OPIS’s. Avondale highlighted them.”

  “There’s no way of knowing for sure?”

  “Maybe, with some research, some time, we could figure it out. Time, we don’t have. We’ve already started moving ours to intercept. Six hours and seven hours—” She jabbed a finger at each symbol in turn. “—give or take, to impact. They’re the satellites ReinCorp launched over the last few years.”

  Ryan paced, feeling desperation with every step. They were flying blind. It didn’t sit right with him. Offenheim and OPIS had spent decades planning this. The ultimate long game. Carefully moving the pieces of the puzzle into place. With a conspiracy this large, OPIS would have had to do so much.

  He tapped his finger against his chin as he thought. Part of the success of The Nameless was that they could think like their targets, enter their minds, anticipate their next moves. Like the spy game, everything would have two or three meanings. Nothing gained unless something given. Every detail thought about, leaving no room for mistakes. It made no sense to have three large satellites blinking like lighthouses in the fog. Or was it a ruse within a ruse?

  “Sofia. To broadcast a signal with the amount of data required, it would have to be a large satellite, right?”

  “In theory, yes, but also no.” She shifted in her seat, rubbing her bruises again, gingerly. “Data storage is going off the charts with how it’s stored. OPIS designed nanites. For all we know, they could have a satellite up there that is seemingly inactive when it’s not.” She shrugged. “I’m sorry. We have no way of knowing.”

  “Are the satellites with transponders registered?”

  “They should be. I see where you’re going.” Sofia tapped furiously on the keyboard. “I’m getting Avondale to send me that data.”

  “Keep going with the original plan. If I can figure which satellites are theirs, we’ll work something out.”

  “Flying by the seat of our pants as usual,” Cal said.

  “If the situation fits.”

  Ryan left them to it and checked on Booth and Allie. They were both awake and looking around. Booth rubbed his neck where Dudek’s taser had zapped him.

  “How do you guys feel?”

  “Like I’ve been run over by a bus after a night drinking whiskey,” Booth said, grimacing. “I’m just surprised I’m alive. Where’s the bastard?”

  “Dead. He’s outside.”

  “What happened?”

  Ryan filled them in.

  Booth tested his jaw by opening and closing it. “Dudek clobbered me from behind, like a coward. By the time I’d recovered from the shock, he’d zapped me. He was fast, Connors. Real fast.”

  “I know. Believe me, I know.” Ryan lifted his shirt, showing his old friend the fading bruises on his torso. “I’m sure he broke a couple of ribs too.”

  Booth passed Allie an electrolyte drink.

  “I hate to break up this party, but we got a job. Allie, can you fly the Seahawk?”

  “Yes. I started training with choppers before moving on to planes. I might be a bit rusty, though.”

  “Once the storm passes, do you think you could have a look. I don’t fancy hiking back to Dutch Harbor.”

  She grunted. “If it means getting home, sure.”

  A dull thud sounded, followed by three more. Ryan snapped his eyes up to meet Cal’s. They all knew that sound. In their line of work, it was a noise they were all too familiar with. Explosives.

  “I thought you did a sweep?” Cal said.

  “I did.” Ryan held up his satchel and pointed to the timers.

  “Signal’s down,” Sofia said. “I’ve lost contact. Radio’s gone too.”

  That could only mean one thing. The pilots had placed explosives on the radio mast and some of the dishes.

  Ryan cursed. How could he have missed those? He hadn’t even thought about the outside. Of course Dudek would have ordered it. He’d been so preoccupied with the colonel that his normally analytical mind failed him.

  “Booth, are you well enough to help me upstairs?”

  “I’ll survive,” Booth said, getting to his feet.

  “Sofia. What do you need?”

  “Assess the damage. After that I’ll need at least one dish pointing in the right direction. Preferably a big one.”

  “On it,” Ryan said. He paused as he put on his jacket and shouldered his satchel. “Guys, I’m sorry. I let you down. We fought so hard to get to this point. Survived Yamada. An earthquake. Siphons. Those robotic spiders. We fought like the team we once were. The team I would like us to be again.”

  He looked each member of The Nameless in the eye. Cal coughed. “You have nothing to apologize for. I should be the one apologizing after what I put you all through. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. It sounds weird, but I did it out of love. I wanted to protect you all.”

  These were the moments Ryan lived for. Ordinary people doing extraordinary things. Not just for one another, but for all of humanity.

  “I feel the same, Ryan,” Sofia said. “You have nothing to apologize for. Let’s work the problem and fix it.”

  “Agreed,” Booth said. “C’mon, old man.” He stood and went to wait for Ryan by the elevator.

  That was why he loved this job. Working with these people every day gave him a sense of purpose. A sense he had missed for the past three years.

  Thirty-Two

  Portland, Oregon

  The Willamette River swirled below the Ross Island Bridge as the group climbed the scaffolding.

  Zanzi clung to the metal tubing hauling herself up to the next platform. She risked a quick glance over her shoulder searching for the chasing Black Skulls.

  “Keep moving,” Lisa said.

  Zanzi grunted and squeezed her tired body under the framing and up onto another row of metal planks. They climbed in silence, Lisa on point and Sergeant Reid bringing up the rear. Zanzi looked over her shoulder again. She couldn’t help it. How the Black Skulls had found them so easily bothered her – if they were indeed looking specifically, or just doing a general sweep. Lisa had been careful and taken the group to a cafe out of sight. She shook away the thought and concentrated on not slipping.

  Reid let out a short, low whistle, halting the group. The scaffold rattled and vibrated as bullets pinged off the scaffold above and below and the Black Skulls charged. Their heavy bodies shook the metal tubing with every step.

  “Move!” Reid shouted, pushing into Zanzi’s back. She grabbed Tilly’s hand and ducked. More bullets bounced off the bridge.

  Reid lay down suppressing fire, sweeping his MP5 from side to side. It wasn’t about hitting the commandos, just about giving his friends time to escape.

  “Here!” Lisa said. She had taken cover behind one of the central girders as the main arch swept down to a lower concrete pylon. Lisa covered their retreat, expertly keeping the pursuing Black Skulls occupied until Reid slid behind the giant beam of metal, sucking in air. “We got at least eight coming,” he said.

  “More this way,” Zanzi said. She gestured with a flick of her head. “Five that I could see.”

  “Shit,” Jacqui cursed. Zanzi didn’t blame her. They had just escaped from the hell hole of the biker’s HQ and run straight into this.

  “There I go again following white people.” Jacqui shook her head as she looked around.

  The scaffold they were on stepped down, following the arch of the bridge support. Thin metal poles joined their section to the scaffold on the far side of the river, which the workers had been taking down. Zanzi noticed it too. Everyone did. They were trapped. If they walked back out, commandos from each side would take them out. They were too high to risk jumping into the river. Maybe the safety netting?

  “They’ll pic
k us off,” Lisa said, seemingly reading Zanzi’s thoughts. She ducked around the corner and halted the advancing Black Skulls with bullets of her own. “Go! Reid and I will cover you.”

  “Not without you,” Zanzi said.

  “We don’t have time to argue. Take the others and get to Avondale’s.”

  Zanzi groaned. “We should stay together.” She checked the positions of the Black Skulls. She could make out their individual shapes now. They were cautiously advancing. The chasing pack was only a hundred meters away.

  “We’re all going, you fools,” Jacqui said and started to loosen the nuts holding the swivel joints to the metal tubing with the adjustable wrench she’d had from the workshop.

  Reid fired another burst grinning from ear to ear. “Do it. Head down, keep to the right, loosen as we go.”

  Jacqui moved quickly, undoing nuts in a precise manner as if she’d done it all her life. After she’d loosened each tube, she kicked it off and into the river.

  Zanzi, Tilly, Reid, Lisa, and Jacqui moved in a tight knot with Jacqui and Tilly removing pieces of the loose tubing as they went. Lisa, Zanzi, and Reid fired round after round.

  Reid and Lisa jammed fresh magazines into their MP5s. “Last one,” they both shouted.

  Zanzi helped Jacqui free the last piece of tubing and helped Lisa across the gap. Reid fired another three round burst and leapt across. There was a road below them now and the scaffold ended next to a portable construction building. Safety and warning signs covered the temporary fence surrounding it.

  “Go,” Reid shouted.

  Zanzi managed to duck behind another metal girder as the Black Skulls rained down bullets. Reid cried out and tumbled, crawling behind a steel beam. Blood streamed from his side and leg. “Go,” he said again. “I’ll cover your retreat.”

  Zanzi shook her head. She wasn’t going to leave him. No one left behind.

  She hooked her arms under Reid’s and hoisted him to his feet. “On your feet, soldier.”

  Tilly ran back to support the sergeant from the other side. They weaved their way between the workers’ tools. The scaffold rattled and groaned. Shouts rang out as the tubing Jacqui had loosened collapsed.