by Ford, Lizzy
“Come on, Jack,” she whispered. “We got a long way to go.”
“Elise says you used to call her to kill bugs in your room. I’m wondering how you made it out of the Peak.”
Brady’s comment made her stifle a laugh. She needed anything to take her mind off the next few hours, because she had no idea if she’d survive what she was about to try.
Chapter Sixteen
THE BOMBING OF THE town of Randolph stopped an hour before dawn. At the first drop of laser missiles, Brady had figured there was one thing that would make the fed jets target the inconsequential town, and it was Lana.
“I called it off,” Tim said. “You have no idea what that took.”
“I imagine knocking off a few more people allied to Greene. I don’t think you called in this strike,” Brady answered, looking over the flattened city grimly.
“No one we’re supporting did. Brady, I don’t need to tell you that there are more rats in the fed ranks than I can find. Assume you’re being tracked as well and act accordingly.” The frustration and anger was back in Tim’s voice. Along with it was another emotion: worry.
“If she’s here, we’ll find her,” Brady assured him. “At least we know she’s alive.”
“Or was.”
“Brady out.” He motioned the PMF members behind him towards the city.
At his request, Charlie had called in everyone in the area to help the survivors. Dan and Elise rolled up on a military transport, and Brady waited for them as the others moved into the town.
“There’s nothing left,” Elise said, distraught.
“Not above ground,” Dan replied. “You’re forgetting the underground railroad.”
Elise appeared relieved then frowned. “Why hasn’t she contacted any of us on her net?”
“Because this is what happens when she does,” Brady said. “Tim confirmed she’d logged into a database from here. One of Greene’s moles caught it.” He started forward, anxious to see if the underground railroad survived the onslaught.
“Entrance here,” one of the soldiers called, looking up from the subsurface monitoring device in his hand. Several more joined him to clear out debris and the remains of a building.
Nothing stood. Brady repositioned his weapons so he could help and began slinging debris away. His body was starting to feel the strain again, but he pushed himself on. Within half an hour, the metal door leading to the tunnel system was cleared away. One of the soldiers blasted it with concentrated laser. It took four strikes before the door caved with a crunch.
Brady was the first in. He dropped to the ground. Two soldiers stood near the tunnel entrance nearby, weapons raised. He lifted his hands.
“Everyone alive down here?” he asked.
“Yes, sir,” one answered and lowered his weapons. “Is it over?”
“For now.”
Dan dropped beside him, followed by Elise.
“Where is everyone?” she asked, taking in the underground structure. The room beneath the collapsed building was empty.
“We heard the laser and cleared everyone out,” one of the soldiers answered. “They’re this way.”
“We’re looking for this woman,” Elise said, striding towards them. “Have you seen her?”
Brady glanced at Dan. Elise had a one-track mind and less diplomacy than either of them. Dan snorted, and Brady joined Elise as she held out her micro.
“She’s here,” one of them said. “Refugee. She came in a few days ago with a dog.”
Brady’s heart quickened. Elise tucked the micro away and started down the hall ahead of the soldiers.
“Pardon our friend,” Brady said, forcing himself to stay with the soldiers instead of racing down the hall with Elise. “I’m surprised the underground held.”
“Me, too,” one of them agreed. “Though I’m grateful it did.”
“Brade,” Charlie called.
Brady turned to see his friend leading three medics.
“We’re opening another entrance. You find your girl?”
“She’s here, sir,” the soldier beside Brady said.
“Good. Will keep everyone off my back,” Charlie said.
They walked through the tunnel to a large room, where people sat and whispered. The room fell silent as their group entered. Elise was walking among the survivors, her features growing irritated.
“Is there another room?” Brady asked, reading the blond woman’s face.
“There are a few. Let me find Mike,” one of the soldiers said. He trotted down another hallway.
“Who is Mike?” Brady asked the remaining soldier.
“He was nominated by the town to lead them and interact with us,” Charlie said. “Good man. Real sharp.”
“She’s not here,” Elise complained, joining them.
“I’m working on it already,” Brady told her. “Go stand by Dan and keep quiet.”
She looked ready to argue but obeyed. Brady couldn’t help but hope not all elite security forces were as high-maintenance as this one. It would make for an aggravating experience, if Tim was serious about assigning him to manage the battlefield from afar.
A few minutes later, the soldier reappeared with a tall man with a sharp gaze and quick smile.
“Good to see you, Charlie,” he said, shaking hands with the local commander.
“You, too, Mike. This is Brady. He and his team are looking for this little girl,” Charlie said, holding up his micro.
Mike hesitated long enough for Brady to assess the civilian knew where she was.
“We’re the good guys,” he supplied. “She’s my personal charge. I lost her when our helo went down.”
“She’s a good girl,” Mike said. “But she’s not here anymore.”
“Where?” Elise demanded, stepping forward again.
“She crossed the river.”
“What, did she swim or something?”
“Elise,” Brady growled. He pointed to the wall far enough behind him to prevent her from butting in.
She went.
“Smuggled her via the subs across the river,” Mike said. “We thought she drew the jets here.”
“You tossed her out,” Dan said.
“She begged me to let her leave,” Mike replied, unaffected by Dan’s tone. “When I saw why, I finally listened. I have thousands of lives depending on my decisions. I’m certain you can respect that.”
“We can.” Brady managed to keep his voice level. “Take us to the sub.”
Logically, he understood Mike’s decision. But the emotional side of him wanted to wring the man’s neck. Who threw a vulnerable woman—his vulnerable woman!—to the wild to fend for herself? No one would survive the attack that leveled the city.
Mike obeyed, and they walked through the myriad of tunnels until Elise began grumbling about the distance and Brady became disoriented. At last, they arrived at a metal door that Mike swung open to reveal a tiny submersible docked. The soldier Brady took to be the pilot by his uniform glanced up from his micro.
“I have a feeling these folks would like to cross the river,” Mike said and motioned to Brady. “They’re looking for the girl you took over earlier.”
“I can take one of you at a time,” the pilot said. “Mike, you’ll have to call Jim and let him know to meet them. He’s not expecting me for another couple of hours.”
“Will do. Who’s first?” Mike asked, turning to them.
Elise started forward, until Brady leveled a glare on her. She frowned but stopped. He stepped forward instead, following the pilot into the sub. The screen lit up in front of them, and the door closed. The sub’s motor hummed quietly and the pilot guided it deftly. Brady gazed at the screen in front of him, unable to decipher the symbols and colors.
The smooth ride grew bumpy suddenly, and Brady braced himself against his seat.
“That’s not good,” the pilot said. “Felt like a missile almost grazed us.”
A sinking feeling filled Brady. The sub bumped against
a dock, and the door opened to reveal the man he assumed was Jim, dressed in his workout clothing with mussed hair.
“I’ll bring the others over,” the sub pilot said.
Brady heard without responding, striding away from the sub.
“Sir, you may not want to go above ground just yet. There are missile strikes on this side now.”
His heart dropped at the words. He touched his net implant but found the network scrambled, indicating the jets were sending out electromagnetic pulses in addition to the missile strikes.
“I need to go to the surface,” he said. “I can’t stop the strikes if I can’t get through on my net.”
“Very well, sir.”
They went through another maze before Jim reached a metal door. Before he opened it, Brady could feel the walls shaking from the missile strikes. He smelled the burning trees and metal when Jim opened the door and saw lasers streak through the skies.
“Tim,” Brady said as soon as he stepped into the open. “Strikes due west of my last position.”
“I know.” Tim sounded frustrated. “I’m working on it. This is the kind of thing Lana could figure out. It’s taking three so-called experts way too long to figure it out. And the damned comms are down east of the river. So-called experts can’t fix that either.”
Brady could picture the politician glowering at the three men he towered over. Jim closed the door behind him, and Brady stayed where he was for a long moment, watching the laser strikes. He calmly interjected himself with more drugs to supplement his waning strength then stripped out of the heavier weapons, opting for a knife and small laser gun.
“Angel, tell me you’re alive over here,” he said.
There was silence. He hid the rest of his weapons under some bushes near the entrance to the underground world and drew a deep breath.
“Brady.”
Her voice was so faint, he thought he’d misheard. He held his breath, waiting for her to speak again.
“Brady, I’m here. I set up my micro to draw their fire. I shut down the satellites supporting comms on the East Coast, but it’ll only take another two or three minutes before the backups on the sats are enabled.”
He wiped his face. “Where are you?”
“Near a large rock.”
“That doesn’t help me.”
“You can’t miss it. But wait until—”
“I’ll be there in a few.”
“Brady, you can’t cross with the missile fire!”
“Guardian out.” He closed his personal net, needing to concentrate. Brady set his micro to track any laser fire before pulling his mask over his face. He counted to three then ran.
The micro warned him of incoming fire, sending the visuals to the implant in his brain. He darted and dashed, stopped and sprinted at its commands, focused on navigating the dangerous territory.
If Dan were with him, he’d agree: this was the fun part of their job. Brady’s body soared with adrenaline as he silently defied death and reach his goal.
The sound of a helo broke his concentration, and he glanced upward before the micro warned him of another incoming strike. Brady threw himself down, rolled, and ran, taking cover behind a boulder as the laser missile exploded the ground in front of him. He looked again for the helo and spotted it flanking the area of destruction from a short distance away, traveling the same way he did.
The micro vibrated, and he bolted up and forward, determined to find Lana before someone else did.
Lana hid between the boulders, gaze glued to the area where the laser missiles dropped. Jack was restless, and she rested her hand on his head to keep him still. She’d watched the laser missiles fall around her micro for almost an hour.
Someone wanted to make sure she didn’t survive. She shivered in the chill of dawn. A helo thumped in the near distance, and she shrank down farther to keep it from spotting her.
Brady had closed his channel. It might save them both, since every inch of her being wanted to scream at him to stop. The sats would be on backup power right now, eliminating her chance of communicating without drawing the fire of the missiles.
So she waited. And waited, growing as anxious as Jack. It took too long for Brady to appear, and her stomach twisted as she imagined him blown to pieces.
Not again. She couldn’t lose her Guardian again.
The thump of the helo returned, this time much closer. Lana scrunched down as far as she could in the shadow of the massive rocks around her. When the helo circled the rocks, she began to suspect they’d picked up her transmission. She held her breath.
The helo moved away. Lana twisted to watch it lower itself to the ground a hundred meters behind her position. Her heart began to beat even faster, and she pulled free the laser gun. Three men leapt out, a blond man in PMF grays flanked by two fed special security members.
If they were with Brady, why hadn’t he flown with them? Lana stood and moved to the far side of the rocks, facing the area where the missile fire fell. As suddenly as it started, it stopped.
Brady still didn’t appear. She armed the laser gun and tucked it into the space between her clothing and the small of her back. With the vault in her pocket, she waited.
A figure appeared from the forest between her and the river. Lana almost uttered a cry of surprise, astonished he’d survived the missiles. Brady pulled off his mask, trotting towards her. His uniform was torn, and blood turned the gray color brown. His head was shaved. Even from the distance, she could see the scars down one side of his face.
He’d barely survived the helo crash, she assessed, shocked. Yet he moved as if he were completely healed. She couldn’t imagine even one of the genetically altered warriors healing so quickly from an impact great enough to create the deep scars on his face!
“Charlie!” he bellowed at the PMF member.
The sound of a laser gun jarred her. Brady dropped. Lana whirled, surprised to see the PMF man in gray lowering the weapon. She darted behind the nearby rocks. Charlie’s next laser shot glanced off the top of the rock, searing a hole through it. Lana stared at the hole, surprised, and dropped even lower.
“Come on out, girl, and I won’t hurt you,” Charlie commanded.
“You expect me to believe that after watching the missile attack?” she returned, reaching for the laser gun. Her heart thudded. She’d shot Donovan on accident and only grazed his arm from a meter away. There was no way she could do enough damage to Charlie from four times as far to allow her to escape.
“I’ll count to three, girl.”
She leaned back to see Brady’s body, praying for a sign he was still alive. His body wasn’t where he’d fallen. She moved as far as she dared from the rock, searching for him. Somehow, he’d moved back to the wood line. His laser gun lay where he fell. She couldn’t see what he was doing, but she saw with relief he was alive.
“One.”
“Distract him, Angel,” Brady said quietly via her net.
An idea formed. Lana freed the vault from her pants and quickly went through the opening sequence. She dumped the keypads into her cargo pocket.
“Two.”
“This is what you want,” she said and held it up. “The keypads to the systems are in here.”
There was a pause. Then the man asked, “What systems?”
“The weapons systems. Or didn’t they tell you what they were after?” She rose slowly as she spoke. For the first time in her life, she told a real lie. “These keypads control all the military’s weapons in the country. Whoever has them will be able to take control.”
“You’re lying,” he replied, gaze on the vault. “They wouldn’t give that to you.”
“You think they call in a missile strike on any low-level fed?” she returned. She placed the laser gun against it. “I’ll destroy it if you try to take it.”
Brady was creeping forward. Blood had bloomed, staining the left side of his abdomen and down his hip. She tried hard not to look at him, terrified of giving him away.
&n
bsp; “I’ll give you a better deal. I’ll let you live if you give it to me,” the man in gray responded.
She made a show of arming the laser gun. He stepped closer. Brady drew close enough to one of the fed security members and drew his knife. He snatched the officer and snapped his neck silently. The sound of the body dropping drew the attention of the other two.
“Here, take it!” Lana cried and tossed the vault to Charlie.
He reached out to catch it. Laser fire sounded as his other guard whirled and fired on Brady. Brady smashed his elbow into the man’s face and whipped him around, slashing his neck with the knife. Charlie turned to blast Brady’s exposed back.
Lana raised the laser gun, closed her eyes and fired. Someone dropped. She opened her eyes slowly, surprised to see she’d hit the man square in the back of the head. He lay on the ground, still.
Brady was staring at her. He managed a faint smile before wobbling and sliding to his knees. Lana rushed to him, horrified by the amount of blood soaking his uniform. The second man he’d killed had planted a knife in his shoulder.
“Brady,” she said, dropping beside him. “There’s so much blood!”
“Call Tim,” Brady grunted. He sank into her. Lana wrapped her arms around his muscular frame, breathing in his familiar scent. She kissed his forehead and cheeks, tears in her eyes. “Put pressure on my side.” His voice was strained.
Lana obeyed, planting one hand on the laser wound in his side. He hissed in pain, his dark eyes growing distant.
“Nice shot,” he managed.
“Thanks,” she replied then touched her net. “Mr. Tim.”
There was a pause then a surprised, “Lana?”
“We need help. Brady’s hurt.”
“Tell him I locked down all missile strikes on domestic territory. Stay where you are.”
Brady’s eyes closed, and Lana touched his face, terrified of the blood and his paling skin. Her own clothing was soaked with his blood.
“Brady,” she said, panic in her voice. “Brady, stay with me.”
“Tired,” he whispered.
“Next time you shouldn’t run through a missile strike.”
