Adrian's Eagles: Book Four (Life After War)

by White, Angela

  I love you guys, I hope you know that. If the world really does end on 12/21, we’ll start our own camp! Lol. Thank you for your purchase, and for gifting me with your time.

  It’s been my honor,

  Angie

  On a more personal note -Kim, you were a life-saver, with skilled hands, witty patience, and a terrific work ethic. This book wouldn’t be what it is without your talent and time. Or as Adrian would say – “That’s a pass.” I would also like to thank the great people who beta-read for me, hosted me on their sites and blogs, and offered their services to my demanding eye. It was an honor to work with Josh, Jeffery, Dana, Tammy, AJ, Autumn, Cathi, Christine, Darren, Diane, Sharon, Marie, Laura-Lee, Debbie, Wesley, Freddy, Misty, Jacquie, John, Derek, Lisa, Tina, Ariel, and a few others – My Eagles.

  Extras

  Named Eagles Teams

  Sneak Peek

  Changing of the Guard

  Deleted Scene

  Character Profiles

  Adrian’s Eagle Teams

  Named Eagle Teams as of 4/20/2013

  (The Eagles that have been mentioned in books 1-4)

  Level 7

  Kyle, Chris, Daryl, Billy, Angela - Level One

  Level 6

  Neil, Jeremy, Daniel

  Level Four

  Zack, Lee, Allan, Frank

  Level Four

  Seth, Jeff

  Level Two

  Kevin, Ray, Alex

  Level One

  Marc, Jax

  Rookies

  Tucker, Anderson

  *A number of camp members are also under consideration.

  Book Five

  Sneak Peek

  Kyle and his men were regretting taking the newest mission - until about 4:00 a.m. - when they had gotten close enough to the Slaver camp to see the people. They watched for only a short time.

  With Cesar gone, the camp was in chaos. Gang rapes took place by the firelight, fists and knives flashing. The women were barely conscious, bloody and broken as one finished and another took his place. Kyle's men were sickened, but if he had said to keep low and wait until it was over and everyone was asleep, they would have.

  The Mobster was going to tell them exactly that. The remaining Slavers numbers were bigger, but two young boys were pulled out of a truck, kicking, pissing and screaming for help. Knowing he couldn't sit by and watch the five-year-olds be treated the way the women were, Kyle gathered himself and keyed the button on his set.

  "Line up in the V. We go on two."

  The Eagles moved fast, very glad they wouldn't have to see the kids hurt. Kyle and Neil had hoped to wait for a better time, but they were no longer concerned with any of the slaves getting caught in the crossfire. A quick bullet would be better than the slow death they were suffering through now.

  Kyle looked over at Neil and saw the glaze of victory in the Trooper’s eyes. “This will give you what you want. Samantha.”

  Neil didn’t bother with a lie even though most of their own men were listening closely. “And seal my place. Yours too.”

  The Mobster ran eyes over the drunken men who were now fighting to see who got the little boys first. This wouldn’t be a battle – it would be a barrel-shoot with sitting ducks for targets. “There’s nothing he won’t give us for this and nothing that will ever erase the stain.”

  Neil shared Kyle’s feelings of revulsion, but in this moment, he wanted Sam and his place more than a clean conscience. “For him and for this new life, I’ll bear it.”

  Kyle didn’t grin, but his head went up proudly. “As will we all.” He raised an arm.

  "One......and......Go!"

  They burst into the camp from the rear, catching the majority of the 60 men in the first seconds, as they raped and drank. Their faces were stunned by the light and Kyle's men sprayed justice.

  Three women were caught and killed in the first wave by stray rounds, and one had her throat slit by a man trying to use her as a shield, his arm jerking automatically as the bullet took him between the eyes. The rest of the women and kids got down… got out of the way.

  Kyle would remember later, thinking how odd it was to not hear their screams as his Eagles walked in a tight line, mowing down men who’d been sitting, sleeping, passed out or standing up to fight.

  The Slavers were helpless under the fury of Adrian’s Eagles and less than a dozen of them had time to fire back. Careful and merciless, Kyle and Neil’s team cleared the camp without breaking ranks. Even when one of their own cried out, they didn’t pause. Billy grabbed Daryl’s arm and hefted him over one shoulder as they moved, his Colt barking.

  Minutes after seeing the little boys dragged out, the Slavers were all dead. Kyle didn't holster his weapon, however, until he had walked every inch of the garbage and blood-filled camp. His Glock barked death sporadically, turning bleeding men with bad wounds into corpses.

  It was hard to look at, but little compared to the slaughter at the picnic area. The guilt they had been feeling was being erased by each new horror they uncovered as they swept the camp for survivors. There were tents full of feces, bodies of dead women and kids piled in the brush behind the camp, and in a string of rusty semis… the slaves.

  Kyle cut the padlock off the first trailer and was stunned by the sight of the little faces and overpowering stench. The dozen or so children were screaming, pushing to the back as they begged for mercy. He was horrified at the filth, the thick odor of blood, and their fear.

  They cowered in the back, moaning in terror, and Kyle hesitated before slowly holding up his hands. The lethal Glock was back in its holster.

  "They’re all dead. Every one of them." He gentled his voice. “We’re here to help you.”

  They quieted a little and Kyle’s eyes picked out movement. He was stunned to see a very young, very pregnant girl stand up and take a couple of steps forward. He knew instinctively he was looking at Cesar’s personal property, and she was carrying the evil man’s baby.

  "He's sold us to you, hasn't he?"

  Her words were a mix of hope and hate and it broke Kyle's heart to hear it. What was she? Twelve? Maybe. He backed out of the wide open doors. "You are all free and they are all dead! Come see for yourselves."

  He turned his back and moved away, encouraged by the hesitant footsteps, but his stomach dropped as he neared the rear of the next semi, this door already open. The smell sent him instantly back to the carnage at the rest area and he stepped to the side of the truck and threw up.

  It was a torture room, filled with bloody devices, and gore literally coating the walls. How many survivors had died in there since the war? Hundreds?

  His men were close, all grim at the sight of Daryl’s jacket-covered body, and Kyle waved a furious hand. "Burn it. Burn it all!"

  They did it quickly - every tent, camper, vehicle, piece of furniture, and body. The flames rose with the wind.

  They had found eighteen slaves, twelve of them children. These haunted little kids stepped over bodies without any reaction, other than an occasional vengeful kick that earned understanding looks from Kyle and his Eagles. They stayed together - these kids and the pregnant girl with them, and flinched whenever any of his men stepped too close or got too loud. The adult females were a little more spread out and Kyle could see what they expected from him and his men.

  He looked at the fires being put out by the rain and then at the survivors who were refusing any food or water, blackened eyes watching his every move. He slowly approached the group of kids, eyes picking out the pregnant girl in the middle of them. His men hung back, but stayed close enough to hear as he began to speak.

  "My name is Kyle. We've come from the camp these men have been stalking, to free you and we have. You can leave right now and go anywhere you want, but a lot of you are hurt and we have doctors. We follow the old rules and no one in our camp will ever hurt you."

  "You're just saying that so you won't have to fight us. We won't eat your drugged food!"

  It was the pr
egnant girl who had the courage to speak and Kyle moved closer, wondering what she'd look like clean and happy.

  "We're not Slavers. We'd never do that."

  "You're lying," she accused and the children around her shrank back, sure she was about to be punished.

  Kyle pulled his gun, wincing as women and kids jumped back in terror, hands coming up for futile protection. He turned the Glock around and held it out to the pale girl.

  "Take this as my promise. If someone tries to hurt you, use it. Be careful, the trigger's touchy."

  Those watching were surprised, his men included, and Kyle stared hard at the girl who was now pointing his own gun at him. She was brave, he thought, and right then it hit him; the attraction he hadn’t felt for any female in Safe Haven. He hid a frown at the discovery. He didn’t rape little girls, dead men did.

  Jennifer slowly lowered the gun, but didn't give it back, and Kyle nodded. Brave and smart. He looked at them all.

  "Our leader is a great man and in our camp, you'll have good food, safe shelter, and the freedom that has been stolen from you. We leave in three minutes. If you're coming, be in one of the black trucks parked behind the rocks."

  He pointed the way and then headed there himself, sure they would follow. Even a little hope was better than none.

  Changing of the Guard

  1

  “This is Safe Haven. We are an American Red Cross convoy. Who is calling?”

  Static again and then a very young voice floated out of the tape player, horrifying Angela, who could feel the fear and helplessness behind it.

  “The grownups left us! We need help!”

  It was whispered but clear, even though odd noises in the background should have drowned it out.

  “Where are you, honey?” Mitch asked, not as steady now.

  Angela flinched at the awful cry in the background. The child waited for it to stop and it did, in a long, unbroken howl of pain that finally ran out of breath.

  “Little Rock. Hurry! They’re closer!”

  “Where exactly? We’ll come and get you!” Mitch’s voice was full of outrage and worry as he tried to find out where the abandoned kids were.

  Static garbled the transmission. “You’re breaking up! Say again!”

  There was only more static instead of a response, and Adrian turned the recording off.

  “He tried them for the next two hours and got nothing. We heard it on another channel yesterday. Same message, different voice. We won’t be the only ones hunting them.”

  Angela closed her eyes. “Play it again.”

  He did, not watching her and they both winced at the loud moan when it came. Angela pushed, stretched, listened. When Adrian cut it off, her lids snapped open.

  “Kids. Trapped on the East side, near where the water is coming in.”

  He nodded, ignoring the tone of the dead that was coming from her lips. “I want to go in and get them.”

  “And if it’s a trap? If we’re ambushed?”

  He frowned at the question. Did she know something? “We go in assuming it is. We plan for it.”

  Angela concentrated on the unrecognizable city below them. They were down there, she could feel them waiting to be captured and killed, or rescued, and she couldn’t even see a way in. It was all pile after pile of rancid debris.

  “Let me worry about that,” Adrian told her. “I need you to help me locate them, to listen, but mostly, to convince them they can trust us. Nothing else.”

  She looked away, knowing it would be more, knowing it was more even now.

  Adrian blew out a tired breath, turning to stare at his people as they began to make camp, Brady scheduled on Point for the first time.

  “We’ve seen armed men here. They wear fatigues like soldiers and act like it to a degree.” Adrian turned to her. “I need to know if they are.”

  Her eyes closed immediately, seeing the past, and after a minute, she was picking up details. “They’re not all from the same branch. Mercenaries, I think. There’s a small group inside that mobile home. They’re on duty, watching for us. Word has spread about what we’ve done.”

  Adrian was now the one frowning. Eliminating the Slavers was only a small part of the death he and his army would end up dealing out.

  “Deserters are as bad as Slavers,” he stated gently, a bit unsure how to bring it up with her. Neither of them was fully recovered from the last mass-killing.

  She cut him off. “I understand what you’re about to say. If they follow us in, they won’t come out.”

  Skipping over the lecture on duty that she obviously didn’t need, he gave her a tight smile. “Stay close to me once we’re in.”

  “You should watch your six on this run… closely.”

  “You know something I don’t?”

  She shook her head, daze clearing. “It’s just a feeling about a bad decision.”

  He smiled uneasily. “We make those every day now.”

  They laughed halfheartedly, but he took her words to heart. “I’ll keep you out of the ugliness as much as I can.”

  She nodded, warming. “I know that. I need a map.”

  Adrian pulled one from his pocket, putting the tape player away. “We’ll let the camp get out of sight, and then we’ll head down. You’re solo again, on this run. Be in the Mess in half an hour.”

  He turned from her many questions - like what happened if she couldn’t convince them to come out and at least talk. She went slowly back to her blazer, looking from the map to what used to be Little Rock, Arkansas.

  There were no landmarks to use, the entire city was crumbled on top of itself like broken Lego blocks and it was impossible to tell where one building started and another ended. There was nothing she could see to navigate by, except the Arkansas River, which was literally surrounding Little Rock on three sides due to post-war flooding. That ugly mass of scummy liquid, which she knew they would have to cross when they were done here, would be a nightmare for Safe Haven.

  2

  As they neared the crumbled city, the mission team was reminded of how these scenes always appeared fake in the movies. Except with the windows down, they could smell the decay and see the bodies still rotting out in the open, eyes foggy, skin mostly gone to predators, and they could hear the hordes of flies that circled and stopped, circled and stopped.

  The grass was dead too, replaced with thick mud from the water rising through and over the land. It should have drained, but a fleet of Coast Guard ships had been washed upriver by Hurricane Amanda, forming a thick blockade with the wreckage. As a result, the river had been backing up into nearly every city and town along its banks. It probably would only have taken 2 hours and a little dynamite to clear, but no one knew and very few would have been able to do it now. The War had changed everything.

  The convoy stopped about a 1/4 mile from the first big piles of buildings, cars, lives, and Adrian sat still for a long moment, deciding where to start the assault.

  Angela kept quiet, almost able to feel his mind working the problem.

  After a moment, he picked up the mic. “There’s a clear street behind that church. We’ll start on the right side of the lot. Once we make a hole, we’ll be able to travel for a bit.”

  No one doubted him, though how he could see it, she had no clue.

  3

  By midnight, they were two miles in. Their camp was quiet, 20 men and Kyle on guard duty. The dead city moaned and banged around them, settling down only to let out a horrid scream of pain, followed by glass breaking and gunshots. None of the Eagles rested easy.

  Adrian and his main circle were in the largest, middle tent, along with half a dozen guards. Everyone else was split between the two tents on either side. The lights and candles were kept going and the fire and coffee, by the guard on Point. The wolf paced the boundaries of the electrified fence (he knew what it was and could easily jump it), also making his own rounds.

  The 3 a.m. shift change was quiet, companionable shakes on elbows and w
rist alarms, but Adrian woke anyway, joined Kyle by the fire. He poured himself a cup of the strong coffee and raised a brow at the tired Mobster.

  “Things staying quiet?”

  “Quiet, but not dark. Lights in every direction. Six camps, roughly a mile out, each with 5 men.”

  Adrian grinned. “You went for a walk.”

  Kyle wasn’t worried the Boss would be mad. “We snuck a couple hard-asses out and went for a look/see.”

  Adrian lit a smoke, wondering if Angela had been among them. She hated not being a part of Kyle’s team for missions, but Adrian needed her learning to work alone, too. “See anything interesting?”

  Kyle nodded tiredly. “They didn’t. We saw no means of communication. No CB’s, no hand-helds, but these guys were alert, serious.”

  “You see The Man?”

  “Negative, but I’m positive he’s seen us.” Kyle yawned. “I’m going to bed.”

  “With all those snores? Good luck.”

  Kyle left the fire smiling and Adrian went to his truck. Once inside the cold interior, he turned on the CB system. Their people would have heard the explosions, seen them too, maybe, and while they knew better than to break radio silence, he could at least let them know everything was okay. He had no doubt most of the camp would be listening by now, all worried, hoping to hear something, and giving Brady shit because he wasn’t their true Guardian.

  “This is Eagle. Everything is 5-by.”

  The static cleared immediately with a brief sound of a huge crowd cheering in relief and then there was silence. Following instinct, Adrian turned the second system on, adjusting to a less-used frequency. It was a shipping channel he’d taught a young boy to use a very long time ago.