by Angela White
Becky’s head snapped up. She shrugged. “Got lost for a minute. What?”
Marc pointed at the slug in the tent wall behind his head. “Is that yours?”
She nodded resignedly. “Yes.”
“Why?”
“I flinched at all the noise, even though we have the plugs in our ears,” she answered, embarrassed.
“That makes you a frontline shooter,” Marc said, motioning for them to reload. “If you’re in front of your team, you won’t hit any of them with a stray round.”
Becky vowed to always do that. She only wanted to hurt the enemy.
Marc got into the target position again and gestured. “Put the blindfolds on, one at a time. You’re following my sounds. Becky goes first. Everyone else, stay behind her.”
Outside the tent, Angela sent the witch in to be sure that no one was wounded. The teenagers weren’t like her girls, who were making fewer mistakes now that they had a couple months of training under their belts. It would take the same for these kids to show the progress. In the meantime, Marc would pass on important details that might save their lives when things went crazy.
The kids knew what was coming. With their gifts, she wouldn’t have been able to keep their roles from them, so she’d told them shortly after they’d chosen Charlie as their team leader. Despite the youth and inexperience, all four of these teenagers were going to play vital roles in her plan and Angela would try to live with what came from it.
Angela went to the final canvas in the widely spaced row and tapped on the flap. The men inside were working on ‘under the table’ projects that had to be in place when the majority of the other envelopes were opened.
“Hey, boss,” Neil called without looking up from the temperamental explosives that he and Jeremy were packing for travel down the mountain. “Almost set. Last thee boxes here.”
Angela stayed near the flap, aware of Shawn right outside. He was ready to grab her and pull her to safety if something went wrong with the boxes.
Neil tucked the plastic under the edge of the white block and slid the package into the anti-static bag.
Jeremy took the brick from there and placed it in the thickly padded box. Neither man spoke.
Angela left the warm tent, not wanting them to be the least bit rushed, and felt Shawn’s relief. She flashed him an annoyed glance.
Shawn shrugged, smiling wide enough to make his dimples show.
Angela tossed up her hands in exasperation. Men!
Shawn chuckled, dropping back a bit as Jeremy and Neil came outside while their team loaded the boxes onto the truck that was also inside the wide tent. Angela hadn’t wanted anyone to see what they were working on back here. They’d done a great job of deflecting the curious, even Kevin, who had pretended he was searching for Cynthia.
“All go, boss,” Jeremy updated her. “On all of it.”
“All three locations are a go?” Angela queried, needing to know for sure that she was ready as she could be.
“Yes. Half a team at each site to wait for the main group,” Neil said, not liking the idea that Angela had felt the need for three dens to keep their people safe.
“We cleared them yesterday and last night,” Jeremy added. “We’re all set.”
“Good. Seth is in charge of the move. You two will help him until it’s time to open your envelopes.”
Both men nodded, stifling questions and protests. She hadn’t responded to anyone who had tried to get more information out of her.
“In a few days,” Angela promised them. “you two will be back here with a lot on your minds.”
All three males around her tensed, for different reasons.
“My plan is bigger and I see more. Follow your orders and things will all work out in the end.”
“Can you swear that?” Neil demanded. “Can you swear we’ll be back with her?”
“Yes, so long as everyone does their job,” Angela vowed, not wincing at that guilt layer. She had to have people like Samantha on the front lines, even if it cost their lives.
Zack had been observing as she visited with each tent and thought he now had the answers to most of his question.
“I’m heading out,” Zack said.
Angela nodded. She’d let him figure it out for himself and he had. He wasn’t the only one being kept out of the main loop with a secret job. Most of the fighters wouldn’t like knowing Zack was wiring explosives into all three of the dens that she’d chosen. Zack and his team had already been busy since Marc returned and their days were only going to get longer.
4
He comes. Beware.
Sam paused in the middle of twirling cold spaghetti onto her fork. She’d been enjoying the warmth of Dog curled on top of her boots, but that comfort was gone. She glanced around slowly, feeling an icy chill that screamed for attention.
Who? she asked warily. Samantha hadn’t been communicating with that voice inside. She wasn’t sure of the rules or the etiquette.
The enemy.
Samantha found Angela at the next table and locked eyes with her, uncomfortable with the new gifts she’d been given. The visions were often ugly.
Angela scanned her and then left the mess without a word to anyone.
Samantha found Marc in her mind an instant later.
Marc took in the blurry images with dismay and also left without speaking.
Neither of them had told her to keep it quiet and Sam didn’t try to stop Jennifer and others from reading the danger. Instead of the panic and confusion that could have ensued, all of the females and their mates looked at Sam, waiting for orders. Even Cynthia.
Sam felt the pride and the stress of making the right choices, but the need to save whoever she could overwhelmed the other emotions. “He’s here. She’s right on the time. Go get your gear. While you’re alone, open the first envelope and get on it. The waiting is over.”
Neil and Jeremy appeared at her side and Sam grinned sadly. “Wish there was time to get use to this.”
Neither man knew what to say.
Sam let them off the hook with a sharp tone and a big smile. “Snap to, Eagles!”
Neil opened his mouth, maybe to question her real meaning, and Sam stopped him. “No. Let’s go spend a few minutes in our tent while I pack.”
She headed that way before either of them could argue.
The mess was deserted a minute later.
A few seconds after that, the camp sirens began to blare.
“There’s a storm coming. Take cover. I repeat, there’s a storm coming. Please proceed to your tent and open your first envelope. Camp will be rolled in according to the new directives. Be in your assigned place before evening mess. There is no backing out now, no backing down. We are going to reclaim our country and drive out the enemy. This is our land, our lives, and we will never surrender!”
The message, quickly recorded by Angela, repeated continuously, disturbing the peaceful mountainside. Nervous animals and birds took off in angry protest as the camp packed and loaded, scattering flocks.
5
Conner stayed still and silent as the camp rushed around, chattering and appearing scared. He didn’t care as much about that right now. He would do his part, and do it better than even Angela expected, but right now, he was focused on the couple lingering outside their tent. The pair didn’t know they were being observed, and that was how Conner wanted it. His dad had said he would help, but only if Conner had the patience to wait for the right time. So he was contenting himself with watching from a distance. He’d excused his behavior by saying he went for a walk every morning to help strengthen the leg that had been shot.
Conner stopped breathing as a pair of Eagles came by, but they didn’t notice him and he was able resume his stalking. He had a basic pattern now (find her, observe her and the guard that was always on her tent, then allow nature to take its course) and he moved into the final part in a daze. This was the time when he could be easily caught. The excitement sent blood rushing in
to his loins.
Not far away, the vet spotted Conner hiding in the bushes and weeds, and scowled heavily at the scene, but he didn’t stop. He had somewhere to be. Angela hadn’t given him an envelope. He was supposed to be with the rest of the sheep in camp when it all went down, but the vet had other plans. If he were successful, Angela would be grateful enough to grant him favors later, when it mattered.
Conner fell to his knees, breathing in hurried gasps that he tried to muffle with the sleeve of his jacket. As he knelt there, trying to recover, movement drew his attention. He watched the vet disappear into the thicker part of the woods.
Did he see me?
Conner hurriedly covered himself and got out of the area in case Chris told someone and Eagles came searching. The teenager didn’t wonder why the vet was sneaking out of camp, too concerned with his own infractions. Conner hurried to his tent to reread his first instructions, vaguely aware of birds fleeing their new noises and small animals running for dens.
That’ll be us shortly, Conner thought.
6
“Look.”
Sherman spotted the flock of upset birds that his right hand man had pointed out and grunted, “Finally!”
The mercenary team leader pulled a radio from his kit, aware that the other men with him were packing their gear in quick, eager motions. They were always relieved when the waiting was over.
Sherman clicked the mike in the code they’d chosen for this mission, breaking the static with calculated pauses of communication. If Safe Haven figured out what they were doing, they would switch to a different format. Sherman didn’t think they would need to. He and his team had performed this particular invasion many times. It always worked. All they’d been waiting for was a sign that Safe Haven was on the move. Command knew they wouldn’t stay out in the open for the fight and in the confusion of relocating so many people, Sherman and his team would have an opportunity to grab some of the leadership.
Sherman didn’t wait for a response. He slipped the radio onto the tool belt around his lean hips and began packing up his gear. They would be on their way within the hour. Dressed as Eagles, they wouldn’t be stopped.
Chapter Four
Do Your Duty!
1
“We’re almost there, sir,” the pilot called. Johnathan hadn’t expected an answer, but couldn’t stop a glance at his passenger. He’d never transported anyone as deadly. The Butcher even appeared dangerous while sleeping.
His passenger didn’t appear to have heard the call, but the pilot didn’t repeat himself. The stories about Major Donner implied he was always alert.
The pilot checked his gauges, adjusting a bit for the stiff winds. He glanced through his left window, spotting one of the hundreds of battlefields that the descendants had left in their wake. The ground was charred, gaping, and gone in some places.
The pilot looked to the right and found Major Donner sitting there, staring back at him.
“Fuck me!”
The Major grinned coolly. “I might, if you don’t pull up. Now.”
The pilot jerked hard on the stick and the plane missed the looted water tower by inches.
“You’ll do.” Major Donner yawned. “How long?”
The pilot swallowed his guts to reply, “Five minutes, sir.”
“Fine. Circle twice, then bring this bird down exactly where I tell you to.”
“Yes, sir.”
The landscape was harsh and ugly in the morning glare, matching Major Donner’s countenance. His scars, crooked nose, and missing tooth were a warning of how dangerous he was, much like the land below. Only the smartest would survive here, or those with descendants watching out for them. Major Donner didn’t plan to underestimate his prey. The powers that be had reached desperation in their fight to capture the Safe Haven descendants and they’d finally sent in the best.
Donner had cleaned out several pockets of their kind since the war, including one in Washington State that had earned him top level security clearance. He’d spent the last four months in the north, cleaning. He was glad to be back under American military rule again. The Canadians had been extremely strict when it came to visits from foreigners. Considering that Major Donner and his team had been there to assassinate their slowly forming leadership council, it seemed wise on their part. It hadn’t mattered, of course, but Donner had respected the effort.
The United States government also had people in the south, though few of those had checked in recently. The Mexicans, led by a man called Sebastian, were fighting more aggressively than anyone had anticipated. Safe Haven’s hope had spread, but Major Donner was slotted to head there as soon as he put out these flames. The Mexicans would have a couple more weeks to live and then Donner was supposed to lay waste to them all. At least, that’s what Uncle Sam had planned. What Donner ended up doing wouldn’t even be close, but the boss wouldn’t know until it was too late.
“Damn.”
The pilot’s shock was to be expected. The base below was destroyed. It was so bad that a tent city had been set up for the troops. Donner assumed the remaining buildings weren’t safe, but didn’t care either way. The men now staring up at his plane with resentment would learn that he wasn’t wasting any more time here than he had to.
“Bring us down right there in the middle.”
The pilot didn’t argue, despite the fact that some of the tents below would be damaged. He brought the heavy plane down with careful, light hands, then gave Major Donner a nod. “All clear. Wait for you?”
“No,” Donner grunted as he stood up. “I’ll find my own way from here.”
The pilot waited until Major Donner was visible through the big window and then began to turn the plane around to reuse the same area he’d cleared with his landing. As he rolled by the shouting men, the pilot radioed base, “Package is delivered. No trouble. Headed in.”
The soldier’s tent city was a disorderly clutter of canvas, equipment, and drunken, angry men. These were the reserves from the western base, the men who had earned passes and been promised that they would never have to venture out into this hell. Unlike the soldiers who had died in this fight before them, these thousand men wanted to be underground. It showed in the bad tempers and nasty remarks that had already begun to degenerate into physical confrontations.
Philips, the highest ranked man on site, didn’t push them or try to take control. He had to sleep and without friends (he was working on that, but it was slow going), Philips was sure he’d wake up to feel a blade sliding across his throat if he tried to insist on anything. He’d told base that in his last dispatch, flatly refusing to do his job. They’d informed him that a new commander was being sent to relieve him. The Butcher was rumored to be one of the best mercenaries in the business, but Philips wasn’t sure that one man could handle these unruly soldiers, let alone make them attack Safe Haven.
Frowning, Philips watched Major Donner strut to the clearly marked tent waiting for him and duck inside. Didn’t the Major understand how upset these men were? They needed a sign of leadership.
Aware of all the resentful eyes on him, Philips limped into the tent behind his new boss.
“Welcome, Major Donner,” Philips spilled out, already intimidated by the man in front of him. “You have a full battalion of men to work with.”
The lackey looked around nervously when the imposing man didn’t reply. “It’s not much, I’m sure, compared to what you’re used to, but it’s all…”
“Stop.”
Philips fell silent immediately. He’d served a congressional representative before the war. He knew when to be offended and when to tolerate. This was neither of those. Major Donner was here to assume command and Philips wanted to stay close. With his limp, he wasn’t good for much else beyond supervising personal comforts.
“Where’s the leader of this base?”
“I believe I’m talking to him, sir,” Philips stated uneasily.
Major Donner sat down behind the ornate desk he was sure
had once been in the hall of the base. It was a reception piece. Donner pulled a nearby pad of paper and pen closer, and wrote a short message.
He held it out to his new lackey. “Take that to the former leader of these men. Make sure his group gets to read it. Report back.”
“Yes, sir.”
Philips only waited to be outside before scanning the small, tight script.
Only cowards go AWOL when it gets bloody. Remember your training and you may even come back alive.
Philips quickly handed the note to the man he thought of killing every day and quickly got out of the line of fire. It was a direct challenge that Sergeant Shilling wouldn’t let pass.
2
“Get out here!”
“Come on, you bastard! No one calls me a coward!”
Major Donner came from his tent dressed in his usual hunting attire–kit on his back, rifle in his grip, pointed at the ground.
The sight of those worn, well-fitting knives brought a tense silence to the small crowd. He was good with them.
Sergeant Shilling had brought a few friends, ten other angry men who thought they would shine while in charge. He stood in front of them with his arms crossed.
Donner raised a brow. “Well?”
Suddenly remembering that he’d called the Major out, Sergeant Shilling stepped forward. “Uh, call base and tell them we ain’t attacking those people. Tell them to come and get us!”
Major Donner didn’t respond to the demand or the cheering. He spent a few seconds evaluating positions, possible skills and reactions, then shrugged. “Maybe I will. First, you’ll listen to what I have to say and make a choice. Okay?”
Caught off guard by the lack of resistance, the Sergeant caved. “Yeah, we’ll listen, but it ain’t gonna matter. We wanna go where it’s safe.”
Major Donner smiled sarcastically. “So do I, but I ain’t goin’ underground to be ordered out again the next time they pick a fight they can’t win.”
“You sayin’ we couldn’t beat those Safe Haven rent-a-cops?” one soldier from Shilling’s group asked cockily. “Cause that isn’t true.”
