by Julia Vee
Hope rose in her chest, spilling out in a gasp. She could see. She was flying. She was going home.
17
* * *
PHILLIPS
Phillips clicked off the holo. It was never pleasant having a conversation with Senator Jackson. But like peeling shrimp, it was a chore that couldn’t be avoided if you wanted to get to the good stuff. She held the leash, and he knew it. He’d sat on the news of Alvarez and Jones’ capture as long as he could, but the higher ups needed to know.
Just then, Hestia chimed, “Colonel Phillips, Lieutenant Kennedy is waiting outside your office.”
Phillips sighed. His favorite bottle of Scotch was inches away, in the lower drawer of his desk, but it would have to wait.
“Thank you, Hestia. Please tell her to come in.”
“Yes, Colonel.”
The diminutive soldier stalked in, waves of barely leashed energy rippling from her body. Her formerly pristine cold weather gear was filthy, the once white suit smeared with black ash and other indeterminable sludge.
“Kennedy.”
Lt. Kennedy stopped and stood at rigid attention on the opposite side of his desk. She was almost thrumming with tension. “Sir, I’m here to verbally deliver my after-action report.”
Phillips’ eyebrows rode up a bit at that. Not that Kennedy was much of a rule follower, but this was unorthodox even for her.
Best get this over with. “All right, soldier. Let me get Gunny in here so I don’t have do this twice.” He looked up to the ceiling, “Hestia, I need Ed in here, pronto.”
“Yes, Colonel.”
Then he reached for his tablet and pulled up Victory team’s footage from the Canadian sortie. He took the best footage and transferred it to the holos behind him. He turned his back on Kennedy while he watched. He had actually watched most of this live, so he sped through it this time around. He could feel Kennedy stewing quietly behind him. Good. She needed to learn how to rein it in.
He grunted in satisfaction at the continued success of the Raven’s stealth capabilities. He’d fought tooth and nail to nab a few of those for the Dubs. With talent like Ace, his Dubs could regain the skies in these new birds. He would have to get Stan started on Raven 2.0 soon, though. No reason to rest on success.
Upon reaching the footage of Victory team being surrounded by the Ringheads, he slowed the vid speed down.
The door to his office opened and shut. Phillips didn’t need to look to know that Ed was here. He was the only one on base with the brass to enter this room without knocking.
Mackenie’s helmet footage showed the greatest detail of the moment Kennedy was thrown into what they had presumed was a downed jumpship. Phillips expanded the screen to fill the wall, playing it at half speed, soaking in all the details. He backed the footage up and replayed certain segments, to cement the order of events in his mind. When he felt Kennedy had marinated long enough, he spun his chair around to face her again.
Ed stood at parade rest by the door. Their eyes met, and Ed gave him the slightest of nods. Good to see they were in agreement here.
He steepled his hands before him and took the plunge. “Ok Lieutenant, I assume you’re here to tell me something I can’t see for myself on the video?”
“Permission to speak freely, sir?”
Phillips grimaced and ran his hand over his buzzcut. Getting a little scraggly in the back, due for a trim. “Every time you say those words, we get into an argument. Why is that, Kennedy?”
She maintained her rigid posture, staring at a spot over his head. “I don't know, sir. Must be something to do with my natural charm.”
Phillips leaned back into his chair, feeling it creak, studying her face. If he didn’t know any better, he might have thought Ed was smiling. Hell, Phillips knew he liked Kennedy. Reminded him of himself, when he was younger. Stupider. Just needed to polish off some rough edges--some, not all--and he saw some fine officer material beating within that uniform. And to be fair, she rarely argued with him, but she had a knack of raising some uncomfortable truths that tested his patience.
The hell with it. Phillips knew no amount of stick would change her, he would try the carrot. He sat forward and opened the bottom drawer, pulled out his bottle of Lagavulin with two glasses, clinked them onto the desktop.
He pointed to the chair opposite him. “Sit. If we're going to argue we might as well enjoy it.” He began to pour two fingers for each of them.
“Sir?”
Ah, this he liked. She was confused. Kennedy probably hadn't expected this.
He pointed again at the chair. “Sit. That's an order.” He placed a glass in front of the chair with another clink on the desktop. “Drink. That's an order, too.”
He raised his own glass and savored the aroma while Kennedy sat. She perched herself on the edge of the stiff wooden seat. He abhorred cushions. Encouraged people to stay too long.
She took her glass, and after a curious sniff, she opened her maw and downed a big gulp. Figured. No dainty sips from this one. He watched her face closely and when her eyebrows lifted in surprise and enjoyment, he allowed himself a small dose of satisfaction.
Phillips rolled his glass and allowed himself a small sip. “Young Scotch is brash, and sometimes abrasive. But you need to know how to appreciate it in order to understand how it will mature--” He waved his glass at Kennedy. “--to become the fine product you’re enjoying now.”
He set down his glass and looked at her intently. “Now, you had something to add?”
Kennedy set her glass carefully back on his desk. She looked Phillips square in the eye as she began speaking. “They weren’t there to kill us, sir. At least, not all of us. They came for me. They nearly got me too!” Her voice, never that well modulated anyway, rose in volume at that last statement.
She shook her head and closed her eyes for a brief moment. “Those fuckers baited that trap and I fell for it hook, line, and sinker like a stupid fish.”
Phillips grunted. He’d handpicked her himself. “You’re not stupid, soldier. Don’t insult me for bringing you to the Dubs. You did your duty as best you saw fit.”
He leaned forward. “No one’s going to fault you for that. Well, except for you.”
He lifted the glass bottle and poured himself another finger. He was going to need it for this next part. “The truth of the matter, Kennedy, is we wondered when this was going to happen.”
Her head snapped up. Phillips saw equal parts anger and confusion in her eyes. He pushed on, no reason to stop now, giving her the broad details of Alvarez and Jones’ current disposition.
“The only common marker between those two was some our most successful cybernetic integration.” He nodded towards her arm. “At least as successful as yours.”
He jerked a thumb over his shoulder at the holo, where the video was frozen on Mackenzie’s view of the downed jumpship. “This is pretty tight proof that, as you said, they were looking for you. Or someone like you.”
There was no more confusion in Kennedy’s eyes. Only anger. She stood, planting both fists on his desk, leaning into him. “You sent me and Mack out there as bait.”
Ed took a half step forward. Phillips raised a hand to him to wait, keeping his eyes on Kennedy. “No, I sent you out there to do your job. And I trusted Lee, and Mackenzie, and the rest of your squad to back you up as needed.”
He finished his drink and set the glass down. “We had no idea what the Ringhead’s intentions were. Hell, we still don’t. But I know this--” He jabbed a calloused finger at her. “--whacking Hunters one at a goddamned time isn’t our path to victory, no matter how much you may enjoy it. What you need, is to start to see the bigger picture, because like it or not, we’ve shown you a big fucking piece of it.”
Kennedy sagged a little under his onslaught, and Phillips pushed on. The hardest metals had to survive the forge. “I need you to step up to the plate, Lieutenant. I have Flynn leading Alpha, but with Alvarez’s situation, he may become compromised. I n
eed you and Victory working with Alpha. I need backup. The Wolves need backup. Hell, all of fucking humanity needs it.”
He leaned back in his chair. “I need you to understand that this isn’t just a damn bug hunt. You say you’re one of our best. Now you get to play at the big table and show me.”
She didn’t say anything. He waited, the silence in the room drawing out. Phillips began to worry. She was mouthy as hell and he’d never managed to shut her up before. He took another sip of his Scotch, enjoying the peaty aftertaste.
Finally, she began to move, her characteristic energy reappearing. Her foot tapped a few times and she shifted her weight from side to side. Her eyes flicked from Phillips, to Gunny, and back. “What’s going to change? Will I still be leading Victory? Mack is integrating well--I don’t want to jeopardize what we’ve built.”
Phillips put up his hands, placating. “Your role is the same. You’ll still roll up to me through Gunny.”
He pointed a finger at Gunny. “In fact, I want you to work with Gunny, starting now. The two of you will identify three members of your team who you feel will be best suited for … unorthodox missions.” He grimaced. “Hell, we’re fighting goddamned aliens, so they have to be ready for anything.”
He could see the gears turning in her head already. “When the time comes, I’ll call you up with the three you’ve chosen. You’ll likely be working with Keenan, with three from Alpha. As I said, your assignments may be unorthodox, so I need you to remember that there is a bigger picture we are working towards. Am I clear?”
She straightened slowly, and snapped a crisp salute. “Clear, sir. And, thank you, sir. May I have another?”
Phillips smirked and took back the glass. “Hell no, soldier. What, do you think this stuff grows on trees?”
18
* * *
PHILLIPS
From his post at the door, Ed spoke. “That went as well as we could have hoped.”
Phillips grunted and set his snifter down with a firm thunk. “Goddamnit, Ed, there’s no one here and we’re not in the service anymore. The least you can do is sit and have a drink with me.”
He pulled out a clean glass and set to pouring Ed a measure. Gunny sat and took his drink. Even sitting, the man loomed over him. Phillips sighed and considered the bottle. He hadn’t finished the last finger he’d poured, so he corked it.
Ed raised his glass in a salute. “Absent friends.”
Phillips clinked glasses with him. “Absent friends.”
They both downed their drinks in one swallow. Phillips took a moment to savor the lingering burn in his throat. “So where are they now?”
Ed pulled his tablet from inside his jacket and started tapping in commands. “You’re just gonna need to see for yourself.” He pointed to the wall behind the desk.
Phillips turned around and the holo lit up with a full screen view of the latest Eagle Eye footage.
Ed began narrating. “So Stan says the intervals between transmission isn’t constant. He still doesn’t know what’s causing the interference, but he’s working on maybe sending a signal to Jonesy’s implant to boost his signal.”
On the screen, Jonesy’s viewpoint was moving through the alien ship, this time with the telltale rhythm of walking. “They’re roaming the ship, no longer restrained. This segment we got is only a few minutes long, so mostly we see them moving around.”
“There’s not much left here, so I’m going to slow the last few seconds down for you.”
The video went to quarter speed, stuttering through the alien ship. A brightly lit, open doorway stood before them. Jonesy went through the door and looked around the room.
Phillips let out an involuntary whistle and his eyebrows shot up. The room was festooned with gear and weapons from all branches of earth’s military. “Stan’s analyzing this? Frame by frame?”
Ed snorted. “You think?”
Even without pausing the video, Phillips identified weapons from the US Marine Corps, uniforms from Austrailian Special Forces and Sino-Sov Commandos, and Union Wolf plasma rifles. Eyes wide, he turned to face Ed.
Ed pointed him back to the screen. His mouth was set in a grim line. “You’re not gonna want to miss the end.”
Phillips returned to Jonesy’s slow pan across the room. The final frame of video froze as Jonesy turned back to the door. Clearly outlined in the door, was Lt. Camila Alvarez, nearly naked, with mottled blue skin from head to toe. Phillips felt his mouth drop open at the frozen image before him.
Phillips closed his mouth and tried to swallow past his suddenly dry throat. He coughed. “Tell me you didn’t--”
“No, of course not. I locked out Flynn’s access the moment I saw this.”
“Good. Good.” Phillips rubbed his jaw. “Jesus. Don’t ask the questions if you can’t handle the answers, eh?”
Behind him he heard Ed uncork the bottle and pour them each another round.
Phillips turned and picked up his glass. With his elbows on the desk, he pointed his glass at Ed. “Obviously this goes no further than you, me, and Stan. Get the data off the main lab server as well, we can’t risk Harding stumbling into this.”
His bushy gray eyebrows drew together in a frown. They really needed Beaufort’s expertise here, but that absolutely had to get clearance. He didn’t know if Senator Jackson would approve of IWC having this info.
Phillips stood and paced behind his desk, jabbing at the air as he ticked off points. “Tell Stan I need every Wolf who has any enhancements at all to be lo-jacked, ASAP. Have him start with Alpha and Victory teams. Call it maintenance, or...whatever, just get them in for it.”
He stopped pacing and faced the holo, studying the image of Alvarez. “Jonesy’s still with her. That says a lot.”
Ed grunted in agreement. “We’re going to have a hard time keeping Flynn from mounting a rescue mission.”
Phillips gave a snort of disbelief. “Hell, why would we want to stop him? I’ve been waiting for him to come around and hijack the shit himself so I can conveniently be unavailable to notice.” At least, that had been his half-formed plan. Answer enough of Flynn’s questions to get him the answers he would need. He’d fully anticipated that Flynn would commandeer a pilot and a Raven to get to the last location they had pings from Jonesy.
Gunny gave a grim smile. “I’m sure Kennedy will have no problem tackling that with Keenan as their first special assignment.”
Phillips lifted a brow. “Ed, I don’t need you to fall on your sword for this. Flynn will get his head in the game soon enough.” He and Ed had been through so much together, growing the Dubs into the fighting force they were proud of. They’d made plenty of sacrifices along the way. Hell, Ed’s wife had left him long ago and he would bet good credits Ed hadn’t seen his daughter since the Ringhead invasion began.
Gunny shook his head. “No, no. That boy isn’t thinking straight right now. I’m going to have to aim that arrow in the right direction.”
Phillips scowled at his old friend. They were skirting a dangerous line, concealing info from the higher ups. The future of the Dubs depended on the two of them. He didn’t want to sacrifice Ed on the altar of bureaucracy for an unauthorized mission with misappropriated experimental technology.
The whiskey left in their glasses jumped as a small tremor shook the room. Phillips looked out his window, checking for the telltale signs of an earthquake. Another quick shock pulsed through the room, making the drawers on his desk rattle.
Phillips stood, eyes narrowing. Two more shocks reverberated through the building in quick succession, nearly knocking him off his feet. “Hestia, get me CentCom. What the fuck is going on?”
Ed had his tablet out, tapping in commands and speaking quietly into his own comms.
“Colonel, CentCom. We’re getting some strange seismic activity, sir. It’s localized to the area around the base and the city.” Another pair of shocks rocked the building, bucking one of the snifters off the desk to shatter on the floor.
> “No shit! You don’t have more for me than that? Where are my drones? Get me eyes on station, now!” Phillips snatched up his tablet and headed to the door when the comms blared, “Colonel, CentCom! We have multiple radar contacts, inbound!”
“CentCom, go to TreatCon Delta. Sound the alarm, initiate base lockdown.”
Phillips threw his office door open and stalked into the hallway, Ed trailing behind. Even as he snapped out commands, he knew what was happening. He’d hoped they would have more time. Time was up, the Ringheads had come to the green zone in full force.
Acknowledgements
For people who love science fiction, this book is for you.
I’m grateful to the many people who paved the way so that we could write this book. The indie community taught me so much and their generosity is humbling. There are too many to name, but notably I am grateful to these folks for all the wisdom they’ve shared: Joanna Penn, Mark Dawson, Chris Fox, Shawn Coyne, Tim Grahl, Bryan Cohen, Dean Wesley Smith, Kristine Kathryn Rusch, and Michael Anderle.
Thank you to my critique group, the Mountain View Science Fiction and Fantasy Writing Group, for your encouragement. Thank you to our developmental editor Julian, a wonderful storyteller himself. To the beta readers and advance team, you guys are the best.
Thank you my family and friends who believed in me, and reminded me that I’ve always been a writer.
~Julia
* * *
Many thanks to Julia for reminding me how much I love writing and creating, and for introducing me to the wonderful world of independent publishing. I doubt I could do this kind of collaboration with anyone else.
