Atlas (The Atlas Series)

by Becca C. Smith

  “You’re awake,” Derek’s voice sounded from behind her.

  Kala turned her head to see Derek’s smiling face looking down at her.

  “How long have I been out?” Kala asked.

  “An hour, maybe two,” Derek said gently.

  Kala rolled the dream over and over in her head. The insanity of it all was actually quite funny if she thought hard enough about it. She couldn’t figure out how her brain managed to think up a mash-up of Greek mythology and elite mission assignments, but it wasn’t that much of a stretch considering…

  “The President?” she asked tentatively.

  Derek shook his head. “Dead. Jack and Lali are in with General Turner and General Clifton now explaining what happened. I wanted to make sure someone was here when you woke up.”

  Kala leaned back into her pillows. “Am I going to be executed or something?” She really hoped the answer wasn’t going to be yes.

  “Not if Jack has anything to say about it. I was there too, you know. Wilton made his intentions clear: he was going to kill a lot of innocents if you hadn’t taken him out.” Derek’s loyalty knew no bounds and apparently that included her shooting the President.

  Kala rubbed her hand over her face trying to wake herself up. “I had the craziest dream when I was out.”

  Derek plopped down on a chair next to Kala and smiled. “After what we just went through? I’ll bet.”

  Kala looked around the infirmary and remembered why she hated this place so much. It felt like a sterile bandage made into a room. White and chrome. All the sheets and blankets reeked of bleach and felt scratchy against Kala’s skin. There were a hundred beds filling up the room in three even rows — all empty except for Kala’s. Her bed was in the back row near the side exit, which was a small comfort that at least Kala could make a run for it if Turner and Clifton decided she needed to be axed. She hated to be paranoid, but she did shoot the President. No matter how crazy the circumstances, Kala didn’t think she’d get off that easy.

  There was a digital clock on the wall behind her and she craned her neck around to see exactly what time it was.

  Her heart stopped.

  Kala blinked her eyes several times, hoping to see something different than what she was seeing.

  Derek looked at her with worry. “What is it?”

  “What does that clock say to you?” Kala’s voice was breathless.

  “5:07 A.M.,” Derek said, studying Kala carefully. “Why?”

  Kala blinked over and over, trying to see what Derek saw.

  But it wasn’t going away.

  The clock was counting down.

  3d 23h 53m 42s.

  41…40…39…38…

  Kala turned her head around and grabbed her chest.

  Derek stood up and held her shoulder with concern, “Kala, you’re freaking me out right now.”

  Kala turned away from the clock, then looked back at it, praying it would just show her the time like it was supposed to.

  But the countdown continued.

  “Let me see your cell?” Kala demanded impatiently.

  Derek eyed her worriedly. Kala could tell he was trying to figure out why his friend was acting bonkers. Little did he know just how bonkers she was, but Kala didn’t want to fall into a full-blown panic attack without checking a few things first.

  “You know we’re in a dead zone, right?” Derek prodded cautiously.

  “Would you just please let me see your phone?” Kala tried to sound as calm and casual as possible.

  But she could tell she wasn’t fooling Derek for a second. He knew her too well.

  He handed over his cell phone.

  Kala closed her eyes taking the phone from his hand blindly, terrified at what she would see.

  “You ask to see my phone and yet you have your eyes closed,” Derek’s voice sounded incredulous.

  Kala opened her eyes fast, like tearing off a bandage. She swiped the phone open and she felt like she wanted to cry.

  Just like the clock behind her, Derek’s cell phone displayed the same countdown instead of the time.

  It hadn’t been a dream at all.

  Or…

  Kala felt a shred of hope race through her.

  “Have there been any reported side effects to phase-suits? Besides losing body parts?” Kala’s eyes were wide as she asked Derek.

  Derek just stared at her, obviously trying to figure out where Kala’s brain was. “Not that I know of, but we could ask one of the technicians. What is all this about? You’ve been acting funny all night. First, you think the tequila is making you hallucinate and now you’re obsessed with clocks.”

  Kala tried to hide her emotions.

  She had been hallucinating all night. The woman with the glowing eyes, the café in the middle of nowhere with the President, and now all clocks seemed to be counting down. It couldn’t be the phase-suits.

  She took a deep breath. “I need General Turner to test me for drugs. I think I was slipped something at the bar. I’ve been seeing things that aren’t there all night.”

  Even with Derek’s dark complexion, his face paled. “You can’t do that,” he said, real fear etched into his voice.

  Kala knew why he was so upset. If she asked to be tested and her blood came back positive for drugs, she would most undoubtedly be executed for the death of the President. But Kala had to know. She had to know what was happening to her. She just couldn’t accept that she was now working for some mythological god that wanted her to keep the world from destroying itself. It was too crazy to consdier.

  “Look, I know someone who can test your blood, but you’re not telling either General. You are not, you hear me?” Derek was adamant.

  “Take it now and it’s a deal.” Kala wasn’t about to leave that room until Derek had a sample of her blood in hand.

  He nodded and left the room for a few minutes, returning with a syringe. Derek sloppily took a sample of Kala’s blood. Their whole team had been medically trained for the field, but they rarely had to use any of their skills, and Derek wasn’t exactly the smoothest when it came to needles. Still, he managed to get the job done, though Kala knew she’d have a giant bruise on the inside of her arm where he punctured her with the needle.

  At that moment, Jack walked in with a somber expression on his face.

  Derek hid the sample of blood in one of his cargo pants pockets.

  Kala’s heart beat faster when she saw Jack looking at her with concern in his eyes.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  Kala wanted to jump out of her bed and run into Jack’s arms, but Derek was there and now more than ever she didn’t want anyone knowing of their affiar. After what she’d done to the President, it was better to keep everything as professional as possible.

  Jack walked over to her bedside and placed his hand on Kala’s forehead as if he was checking for a fever, but she knew he just needed to touch her. The light touch of his hand sent a thrill down her spine. It took every ounce of self-restraint Kala possessed not to pull him down and kiss him. Jack must have felt the same because he quickly took his hand away and turned his attention to Derek.

  “Can we have a few minutes?” Jack ordered more than asked.

  Derek nodded, giving Kala one last look of support and tapping the pocket that held her blood sample. At least she would know if that tequila had been laced with some kind of drug. It would explain so much, although Kala didn’t know if she could live with herself if she had assassinated the President because she had been on drugs. She needed to know from Jack that she had done the right thing, hallucinogens or not.

  After Derek left the room, Jack leaned down and kissed Kala with as much passion as she had ever felt. She could literally feel her arms forming goose bumps it was so intense. When Jack pulled away it was torturous, her lips ached for him to kiss her like that again.

  Jack gently stroked her cheek with his hand. “Why did you kill him? I told you he was my responsibility to take out.”

/>   Kala could see that Jack was truly hurt by her actions. What she couldn’t figure out was why? What did it matter if she killed him over Jack? She decided to give him a tactical answer. “I’m a better shot and I had an opening, you didn’t.”

  Jack closed his eyes as if her answer pained him.

  For some reason, Jack’s response upset her more than it should. “Why are you so upset? They’re going to execute me, aren’t they?” Kala suspected it before, but seeing Jack’s intense pain only solidified it. She was going to pay for what she did. Right or wrong, an American does not harm the President. Period.

  Jack opened his eyes, surprised. “No, of course not. I gave my report and so did the others, including the entire Secret Service on board. No one faults you. It was… it was just… it was my job. That’s all.” He turned his eyes away to avoid contact.

  “What is going on with you, Jack?” Kala was confused: if she wasn’t going to be punished, then why was Jack so upset? And why had he been so adamant to have the kill shot, she was the sniper of the team for God’s sake! It was her job to take impossible shots. Why would it be any different in this situation?

  The look Jack gave Kala was so full of fear and indecision it made Kala flinch.

  Then she saw flash of… what? Anger? Regret? Panic?

  “Jack?” Kala’s voice was barely a whisper. She couldn’t explain it, but for a second it almost looked like Jack was going to hurt her. It was such a shock, Kala froze.

  And just as suddenly, Jack was leaning in and kissing Kala once more. It was desperate like he was saying good-bye.

  Kala pulled back, but held Jack’s face in her hands, forcing eye contact. “What is going on? You’re acting really weird.”

  Jack reached out and rested a hand on top of Kala’s. “Nothing. I’m just glad you’re safe.” He gently removed her hands from his face and kissed them lovingly. “General Turner and General Clifton want to debrief you personally.”

  That jolted Kala out of the mood.

  Kala had never met either general, and they scared the bejeezus out of her. She knew with the gravity of what had happened that she’d have to explain herself to the big guns, but it still made her nervous.

  Kala just hoped they wouldn’t kill her.

  Chapter Six

  After changing out of the hospital gown and into her fatigues, Kala made her way down a long black hallway to the assigned debriefing room, trying not to sweat. For a super-elite soldier, Kala felt like a wimp. It didn’t matter what job someone did, explaining yourself to your boss was always a nerve-wracking ordeal.

  Especially if you’ve shot the President in the head. Kala thought to herself. She didn’t care how much reassurance she’d had from Derek and Jack, Kala still wasn’t sure she wasn’t about to be shot herself.

  Kala arrived at the door leading to her doom. At least that’s what it felt like. She took a deep breath and opened the metal door.

  It was hard not to gulp when she entered the room.

  Dead center was a small metal table with two men sitting behind it. And they looked angry.

  There were no windows and only one door, which happened to be the one Kala was walking through. The walls were made of the same black metal that the Compound was built with. Sleek overhead lights barely lit up the room, making the two generals appear almost dark and sinister.

  General Turner sat on Kala’s left, looking angry with a hint of amusement in his eyes. Kala thought he was a handsome man. He was in his early-forties, young for his position. He had only slight hints of gray in his dark hair and his face was chiseled with a strong chin and straight nose. Turner radiated power. He was almost too intimidating to look at, let alone have a conversation with. On Kala’s right was General Clifton. Though Kala knew they were around the same age, General Clifton appeared older to her with his cropped gray hair and overly tanned skin. Being out on desert missions for so long had given him a kind of leathery look, like he’d been weather-proofed. He was intimidating as well, not because he emanated power, but because he looked mean. If anyone was going to call for Kala’s head, it would be Clifton.

  Kala respectfully saluted the two generals. Neither general saluted her back, which made her immediately on edge.

  “Please, sit.” General Turner motioned to the empty chair across from them.

  Kala immediately did as she was told and sat down in the metal chair. She knew better than to talk first, being so vastly outranked, so she waited for one of them to speak.

  It felt as if hours passed, waiting there in silence, but Kala knew it had only been seconds when General Turner spoke again. “Lieutenant Hicks, please tell us your side of the events.”

  Kala told them everything that happened from when she phased through the wall to when she blacked out. She refrained from telling them about having a cup of espresso with the dead President and how all clocks looked like a four-day countdown. No sense in giving them any more reason to call for a rope and a tree!

  When she finished, General Clifton leaned forward. “You’re not telling us everything.”

  His eyes were cold and calculating and Kala wasn’t sure how to respond. She knew he was right, she was holding back, but what was she going to say? I think I was drugged. Yes, I shot the President, drugged. Oh, and after he was dead he told me he was Atlas, yes, Atlas from Greek mythology. Kala felt sick at the thought.

  “I told you everything I know, sirs,” Kala said lamely.

  Turner didn’t look angry like Clifton, he just looked like he was studying every facet of Kala’s face. After a moment he said, “I’m inclined to agree with General Clifton here. You’re definitely hiding something. If every last soldier hadn’t just come in here and told the exact same story you did, we’d be having you executed right now.”

  Kala said nothing. She still wasn’t convinced that she was going to leave the Compound alive.

  Turner sat back, never breaking eye contact with Kala. “You do realize that the whole purpose of this operation here is to be the President’s right arm?”

  Kala nodded, terrified to say anything.

  “And you killed him,” Turner drove his point home.

  “Yes, sir,” Kala said. What else could she say? They were going to do whatever they wanted with her and nothing she said would change that.

  Clifton shook his head, disgusted. “We’ve informed the White House that the President was killed in the plane crash.”

  “The plane crashed, sir?” Kala asked before she could stop herself. Kala didn’t know what happened after she blacked out, but a crash? How did everyone survive?

  Clifton shot an annoyed expression at Kala, whereas Turner simply answered her question. “Lieutenant Lali Mills landed the plane in the ocean. Once everyone was evacuated, Harry had it torched.”

  Kala realized that Harry was General Clifton. He didn’t look like a Harry. Harry’s were supposed to be good-old-boys, not scary looking a-holes. This Harry looked like the kind of guy who would enjoy torching things. But Kala wasn’t about to share her opinion of her superiors right this moment, she was just thankful they couldn’t read minds.

  So they had faked a plane crash. It wasn’t the first time, but Kala felt a small shred of relief because no one would be looking for an assassin. If the public thought it was an accident, then her odds of surviving the night seemed better than she had first hoped.

  Turner unexpectedly turned to Clifton and said quietly, “Could you give us a few minutes?”

  General Clifton took a few seconds before he nodded. Kala thought he looked pissed, as if taking orders from Turner was like swallowing nails. She knew they were close, but obviously there was some tension between them. Kala recognized Clifton’s greed shade of jealousy. There was no contest, Turner just carried himself in a way that set him apart from most people. Kala thought Turner could be President himself he was so intimidating. And for a guy like Clifton, who didn’t come close to Turner’s presence, it had to eat away at him, no matter how close they we
re.

  General Clifton stood up and walked past Kala, avoiding her as he exited the room. She was surprised she didn’t hear him huff from pouting. She couldn’t believe what a baby that guy was.

  Of course, now she was left alone with Mister Scary. General Turner didn’t say a thing, he simply stared at Kala. She waited patiently for him to make his move. Turner was the one with the real power and Kala was sure he was the man who would ultimately decide her fate.

  SMASH!

  Kala jumped out of her chair as Turner violently flipped over the table between them, crashing it against the wall. It was so shocking that Kala didn’t know what to do. Rage fired hot in Turner’s eyes. Kala knew this was it. General Turner was going to reach for her neck and squeeze until she died.

  But instead, he just stood there, his eyes boring into hers.

  Kala couldn’t move. The chair behind her teetered and fell on its back from the force of her standing. It was an eerie CLANK in the silence.

  “What aren’t you telling me?” Turner seethed.

  Kala knew he wasn’t the kind of man that liked secrets. She suspected the reason he was in the position he was in today was because he knew how to extract information when necessary.

  “You’ll think I’m crazy,” Kala blurted out the words before she could stop herself.

  A part of Kala desperately wanted to tell someone of her insane hallucinations, but her boss? She knew it would be a huge mistake, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself. “I blacked out, and I was drinking coffee with the President and he told me I’d have to do something horrible to save the world and he said he was Atlas and that I was the new Atlas and then I woke up,” Kala rambled like the crazy person she felt she was.

  After a few long moments, Turner started to laugh. Really laugh.

  Hearing and seeing him so amused by her confession made Kala really think about what she had just said. To her surprise she found herself starting to laugh, too. Saying it all out loud made it sound like exactly what it was: ridiculous.

  Turner reached out and shook Kala’s hand warmly. “This was what you were hiding,” he said it as a statement of fact. Somehow, he was able to tell that Kala had told him everything she knew.