by Angela White
Adrian examined the items, wondering who the target was. He read the slip of paper.
You are Safe Haven’s guard dog until I can get them to let you in. Use these things in hope of regaining your honor.
“She gave me a silent message as well,” Kendle informed him, recalling the feeling of Angela in her mind with revulsion. “Another old friend is coming. Get ready for it.”
“Did she say who?”
“Vlad.”
Adrian rose in a blur, intimidating in his fury.
“When?!”
Kendle was unable to stand her ground before his fury. She shrank away, taking up a spot by the open flap. “When I asked that, she said now is best.”
Adrian searched the package again and found nothing else, which said the threat was imminent. “Tell her I’m on it.”
“Which one?” Kendle asked. She’d pulled it from his mind.
“All of it,” Adrian answered. “Anything else?”
Kendle swiped at a spider trying to make a web over the doorway. “She wants you to go out alone for whatever you do.”
“I intend to,” he swore, pulling on a shirt. He’d spent the day out with all of his faction, gathering supplies for the job Angela had given them, and he was tired, but this had to be handled now. Jack and his men were more than a threat. They were gifted hunters who excelled in ambushes.
Kendle waited for him to get dressed and then trailed him toward the small fire, aware of feeling left out. She pushed into his mind and saw their newest enemy as Adrian remembered him.
Ten well-armed men lounged around a concrete room with a single window that marked it an underground structure. On the long center table was assorted piles of cash, guns, and other needed items for the missions they often went on. The rest of the room was empty, with nothing to identify its purpose.
Some large and muscled, some average height and weight, the only thing these men had in common was a few pieces of their gear. Unlike the military that many of them had spent time in, being a government hunter didn’t require a uniform or have strict conduct rules. It only mattered that they always accomplished their mission. It earned them more fame and cash, promotions and honors that average fighters would never have a chance at, and being out of work, even for a short time, wasn’t something they cared for. Between runs right now and supposed to take a long break, the team of bounty hunters were already bored and expressing their displeasure.
“That Canada run should have gone to us,” Vlad complained, sharpening his knife. “Bravo team sucks.”
The other men nodded and snickered.
“If I needed a break, I would have asked for one,” Jack stated, rotating to view their team leader. “You should have gotten our vote on it.”
Adrian didn’t respond. He was leafing through the latest booklet on capturing descendants, and waiting for a reason to reply. He had a lot of pent up anger.
“Are you listening?” Jack demanded.
“He don’t listen to anyone but the boss,” Kranten taunted. “Ass-kisser. That’s our CO.”
Adrian grinned, nodding. Good enough.
The brawl quickly got wild, with men being slammed through doors and into metal lockers that bent under the force. No one from the adjoining rooms and halls interfered. Adrian’s crew was lethal and they blew off steam like this every time they were forced to take a break. It had become a ritual that everyone expected and dreaded, except those rough men.
Adrian let the team get as dirty as he thought they needed and then whistled loud enough to get attention. “We’re done.”
The men all resumed their positions of confinement, but now they had wounds to tend and punches to groan over.
Except for Jack, who glowered at Adrian in resentment as blood dripped from his nose. “I’m not done yet!”
Adrian shrugged, turning around. “Matchup?”
Jack nodded eagerly and the other men formed a wide circle for the fight. This was another part of the ritual, however, it didn’t feel the same this time. Jack was truly angry and all of them wanted to know his underlying reason for it. Jack was aware that the orders for the break had come from higher than Adrian. So what was the problem?
Before the two men could duke it out, a loud siren blared through the compound, drawing them to their gear. A siren here only meant one thing–they were under attack.
Adrian let Jack shove by him, disappointed. He’d been anticipating releasing more of his anger at being cooped up here. The government didn’t like their hunters wandering, so breaks were spent underground.
Adrian was swallowed in running men as he emerged into the hallway and he went with the flow, not needing to check his weapons like some of the men around him were doing. He was always ready and he pushed ahead to find the threat.
The screens inside the lobby of the underground bunker flashed on, showing a topside view of the main entrance that was disguised as a roadside diner. In the diner was a large group of people with glowing red orbs and guns in their hands.
“Looks like some of Canada came to us,” Vlad commented. “That’s their hunters–the ones Bravo team was sent after.”
“That is Bravo team, being dragged behind their cars!” Jack pointed out in a stunned voice. “See the jackets?”
“They killed Bravo team!”
As they watched, the group fired at the cameras and their view was gone.
“Line up!” an angry voice over a speaker ordered. “Kill them all!”
Around him, fighters and descendants raised their weapons eagerly, but Adrian slowly backed to the rear of the group. A few of his team did the same, following his lead, but most of them wanted the front lines of the battle. That wasn’t the best choice against their kind, and those too-eager men knew it, but the need for glory outweighed their caution.
Bamm!
The door to the hall exploded, thrust into the room and crushed the two men standing directly in front of it. Dust, screams, and bullets sprayed the front row of government fighters.
Adrian ducked, narrowing in on a shadow that he didn’t recognize and his shot went through the man’s ankle.
Adrian aimed again as the man fell, and found an unprotected kneecap. He fired, thinking an attack like this was insane. Why would…
Adrian spun for a hallway and ran toward the rear of the bunker, where there was an emergency exit for the VIPs. He hadn’t made it to that long hall before another explosion split the air, tossing him into the wall. Dust scattered over him and he coughed, looking up as a group of Canadian descendants came in through the now unprotected exit.
Adrian tried to hit the button on his radio, but the explosion had broken it, leaving only uselessly dangling parts. He concentrated, intending to send a mental warning, and arched as he was hit by a vicious bolt of electricity.
“Leave him!” a voice shouted. “The cells are down here.”
Bleeding from one ear, Adrian waited until the footsteps were gone and then struggled to his feet and followed. The heavy boots were easy to track through the dust and Adrian found the group in the cell where new descendants were held while being evaluated. Adrian hated it here, but dutifully followed, certain he wasn’t strong enough to call out mentally yet. That zap had drained him.
The cells were just that–metal cages set into the rear of a lab and the invaders quickly opened these cages to grab people.
Rescue party, not an invasion, Adrian realized. Then he remembered the battle going on at the front of the complex and wondered why these few captives were worth all the lives of those front-line people.
He hid behind the door, gun in hand, and watched the brief reunions. None of the captives looked that strong or unique, but one of them had to be.
The group reached the last cell, the one with three bodies of sentries on the bloody floor in front of it, and Adrian knew instantly this was who they’d really come for.
The young boy walked from the cell as if on a cloud, clearly drugged, and his thin, bare body was cove
red in needle marks and bruises from the tests that had been run on him. Adrian’s heart clenched. Who was he?
One of the females in the group scooped the boy into her arms while another covered him in a long robe. They all fled toward the rear exit, and Adrian shrank behind the door to avoid being detected. He didn’t know why the boy was here, but he suddenly wanted him gone and he didn’t care if his boss got upset. They had no business treating children that way.
“But you were raised that way,” the inside voice reminded Adrian. “You grew up in these same cells.”
“Yes, and I hated it,” Adrian responded, carefully following the fleeing group. “It was wrong.”
“Says you.”
“Yes, says me,” Adrian growled. Losing Shannon had made him angry, bitter, and uncaring about the wrath of the government.
As Adrian emerged into the smoky hall, Jack and Vlad came running from a different corridor, both firing at the group.
Adrian knew better than to interfere, but couldn’t stop himself from throwing out a leg to send them both sprawling.
Ahead of them, the group turned around, but didn’t attack as Jack spun around and punched Adrian in the mouth.
Adrian didn’t fight, trying to buy the boy’s people time to get him away, and Jack hit him again. Vlad gaped at them, not sure what had happened.
“Go!” Adrian shouted, ducking Jack’s swing.
Jack realized Adrian was helping a prisoner escape and did the one thing Adrian hadn’t considered. He drew his secondary gun and fired a single shot that caught the cringing child in the forehead.
“No!”
Jack opened fire on the rest of the group, and Vlad helped him.
Behind them, Adrian slunk away.
That’s it. I quit.
“What a bastard,” Kendle commented, bringing them both to the present.
Adrian nodded, strapping on his guns. “He should be. I taught him everything he knew back then. Should have advanced some on his own by now.”
“Another one like you.” Kendle teased. “The boss’ll love that.”
“Yeah, my kind’s hard to resist.”
Kendle laughed and Adrian stopped by her for a moment where all he did was stare.
Kendle felt her body respond and she blushed. His presence was attention getting, to say the least.
Adrian grinned and ducked out of the tent. Kendle needed time to adjust and he would give it to her, but for someone who hadn’t gone without sex for more than a week or two at a time, it was almost a real rush for Adrian. He missed physical contact–a lot.
“I’m out for an hour,” Adrian told David, who was on duty over their small site. “Whistle if I’m needed.”
Conner glanced up from the fire only briefly, and then resumed nursing his sore hands and arms. They’d spent a hard day gathering supplies and the teenager was too tired to ask where his dad was going or if he needed help with anything.
Adrian was glad. He didn’t want to explain to his son that yet another mistake was coming back to haunt them. He shouldn’t have quit that day. He should have put a bullet through Jack’s forehead.
7
“You’re kidding, right?” Kendle fumed. “Is she insane?”
Kendle had just made it back, and had been met by Daryl and Marc. Above them, Shawn and a few of the other Eagles were strengthening their gate and creating platforms–as per Angela’s instructions.
Daryl wasn’t about to say yes, but he did agree. Putting him and Kendle on security together in the evenings sounded insane. She was an untrained rookie and they hated each other.
“Angie said you would work it out and I believe her.” Marc handed Daryl the clipboard. “So work it out. You two, start now. Zack’s running a double right now, but he’ll need the break by then.”
Marc left them there to examine the packet and complain about how rough their lives were. He was amused. Angie was forever causing bitter enemies to become allies and then friends. Those two would be no different and at some point, Kendle might even come to care about the dreams and goals here.
Marc motioned to Charlie, who was escorting Tracy to her evening post and the too-quiet couple joined him. Marc knew the problem without using his gift. “She has a job to do. Still. Like the rest of us.”
Charlie glowered, but managed to control himself. He placed a kiss on Tracy’s cheek and spun into the shadows. Charlie had a post with the snipers right now, and Marc had already told them to keep the boy occupied and make sure he understood that his job wasn’t just to protect his girlfriend.
Tracy waited nervously for Marc to direct her to her next assignment. Her stomach was upset and her throat was dry. She was scared.
“You’re not alone this time,” Marc stated, hating her pain. “I’ve got you.”
Those words did make her feel better and Tracy drew in a deep breath, pushed herself up straighter. “Where do you want me?”
In your tent, recovering, Marc thought, but said, “You have duty over Tara and Missy in the evenings. It should be easy, boring.”
Tracy nodded. “I think I could use some boring right now.”
“We all could,” Marc agreed. “Come on. I’m your escort.”
They made the walk to the tent area in silence, each deep in thoughts that had nothing to do with each other except for the need to respect her privacy and not ask if she was okay. If she weren’t, it would soon become clear.
The tent area was mostly empty. Angela had her entire camp laboring again and Marc approved of the alert Eagles in the center of the tents.
Marc led them to a canvas near that guard station and tapped on the flap. “Got a minute, ladies?”
Fresh from the QZ, Tara and Missy had only been in their new tent for a few minutes and Marc caught a quick peek of a tent floor strewn with their goods and the child’s new toys. It appeared normal.
But I know it’s not, Marc thought. Or Kendle and Cynthia wouldn’t have been monitoring them for their first days here. They’re trouble.
“This is Tracy. She’ll be your settling partner at night.”
“Hi! Happy to have you here,” Tracy gushed, trying very hard to remember that person who had been happy and confident. “Welcome to Safe Haven.”
Little Missy liked the words and hugged Tracy’s leg.
“Aww. Aren’t you sweet?” Tracy crooned. “Bet we can find you a stuffed animal that sings or glows or something. Wanna go with me to the trucks and search?”
Missy nodded, still hugging Tracy, and Marc caught Tara’s frown. Assuming she was ready to have her tent settled down for the night, he commented, “Maybe that should wait for morning?”
Tracy realized it was late. “My bad. I can go find her one real quick.”
Marc sighed, realizing Angela had put Tracy here to help her, not to guard. Angie knew being around a child would be distracting.
“I’ll keep Tara company until you two are finished. Go on.”
Tara was scowling now, but Marc and Tracy ignored her displeasure. Tracy held a hand out to Missy. “Are you coming?”
Missy didn’t extend her hand, but jumped into Tracy’s arms like a kangaroo.
Tracy, not ready, fell over and burst into laughter.
“Well, that didn’t go the way I planned,” she said, giggling.
Missy snuggled into her arms, smiling happily, and Marc pulled them both up gently, glad their snipers hadn’t mistaken the action for aggression. He knew the senior men wouldn’t, but the three teenagers on duty with them right now would be eager to fire their first defensive rounds and the guards with them needed to keep them on a short leash.
Marc turned around to discover Tara staring at her tent with longing.
“You can go on if you want,” Marc offered. “I get the feeling you don’t want to talk.”
Tara flushed crimson, but quickly ducked into the canvas and Marc spent the next ten minutes trying to dig into her mind and failing.
Chapter Eight
Evening
Blues
1
Sixty miles from Safe Haven, a long, dusty train chugged through the ash and debris on the tracks, moving steadily south. It had come from Pennsylvania and though most of the cars were empty, what cargo it did carry was lethal.
“We’re almost at the station,” Vlad informed his boss eagerly as they lounged in the refitted engine car. “Once we offload the horses, we’ll only be a couple hours from the mountain base.”
“Good,” Jack praised. “We’ve waited a long time for a shot at Mitchel.”
“I thought he would show,” Kranten complained, referring to their last mission. “Canada finally got what was coming to them and he wasn’t there!”
“It looks like Mitchel did some gathering of his own and stayed with them,” Stephens told the others. “These files are all on descendants.”
“Not the last few,” Jack corrected. “They have trained military men in there and one of them is Kenn Harrison. Another is Marcus Brady. Don’t underestimate those two.”
“I’ve heard of them!” Kranten exclaimed, coming over to snatch the paper from Stephens. “They took out that drug lord in South America before the war, right?”
“Among others,” Jack replied. “We also have reports of someone called the Ghost.”
The group of men frowned in unison. Ghost was a commonly used title for one of their kind who had turned against the government.
“Is Mitchel the Ghost?” Kranten asked as he skimmed the paper.
Jack shrugged, not concerned over the fight that was about to happen between Kranten and Stephens, who was slowly pulling his knife. “We’ll find out. For now, check your gear while I go over the plan again. Our boss expects this run to end with nearly four hundred bodies. Let’s not disappoint her.”
2
Angela froze as menace rushed over her. She felt as if giant hands were squeezing her brain, and she concentrated, forcing them away. Someone had reached their area and they were strong.
“Jeremy wants a word with you,” Greg stated, joining her at the rear gate.
“Send him to me,” she answered. “Quietly.”
