Maximus: #1 (Luna Lodge: Alpha Squad)

by Madison Stevens

  Cornelius snickered. “It’d be funny if they were.”

  “A lot of things would be funnier in our lives if they didn’t involve the Corps or the Horatius Group.”

  After that, the hybrids carried on in near silence, everyone’s tension increasing as they moved deeper into the tunnel. Nobody planned to come to Hawaii to hike underground for miles and miles, but that’s what they’d been doing. Turning back at that point meant spending as much time on the return trip, and that would leave them with nothing to show for their efforts and the potential escape of the last major figure who’d tormented them in the Phoenix Corps.

  The eternity ended when the dim red light gave way to something that was shockingly bright in contrast. Something lay at the end of the tunnel.

  “Keep your pace and keep alert,” Maximus ordered.

  The bright white in the distance turned out to be the combined and normally meager lights on the edge of town. A disguised gate covered with plants stood swung open, large tire tracks running through the plants and dirt right outside the tunnel and heading straight toward a normal-looking road.

  Maximus hurried out of the tunnel, keeping low and rushing toward a copse of trees lining the road. The other hybrids followed him, and they crouched while taking in their surroundings. This area looked semi-abandoned, defined by old dilapidated warehouses, some of which looked like they dated back decades, if not earlier. Some of the roads were cracked and filled with potholes, but it was hard to miss the one road in excellent condition.

  It ran in front of the tunnel entrance and continued after curving toward a another sad-looking warehouse with a tall chain-link metal fence. The shine off the fence suggested it wasn’t nearly as old as the warehouse it protected. A small fleet of black vans stood parked just inside a tall gate. Light poles stood spread evenly along the fence line, their harsh yellow-white turning day into night in small circles. Men wandered the perimeter, and even with hybrid vision and the light, Alpha Squad couldn’t make out all the details, but they saw enough. Those roving patrols wore dark gray uniforms and caps, and they held rifles. They didn’t exactly look like rent-a-cops.

  “Same uniforms as the guys in the forest,” growled Maximus. “Between that and the tunnel, I think it’s safe to say we found our targets. Not being subtle anymore, which means they’re getting ready to leave Hawaii. Good thing we didn’t wait around.”

  Spotlights swept the area from the top of the warehouse. More men emerged from the warehouse, all armed. They hurried to reinforce the fence in different areas. Men disappeared into the deep shadows from the areas not near light poles or warehouse lights. Something floated away from the roof, several somethings, in fact. Small drones.

  “Awful lot of security for an old warehouse in the middle of nowhere,” Cornelius said. “And it looks like they know we’re here.”

  “They probably have eyes on the tunnel exit,” Maximus said. “That doesn’t change anything. We lost surprise when I fought those two guards in the forest. The only thing we’ve done is change the location of the final dance.”

  “We could watch and wait,” Tiberius said, his voice filled with doubt.

  Maximus shook his head. “We’ve already spooked them enough that they left their underground base. This place is a backup, but I doubt it’s anything permanent. Like I said before, they’re probably just finishing preparations to flee the island.”

  “You think they were that prepared?” CJ asked.

  “They dug a miles-long tunnel from an old storage facility, and they went through the trouble of preparing this warehouse in case something went wrong.” Maximus nodded. “Damn right I think they’re that prepared. If we don’t hit them tonight, they’ll be gone on a plane, sub, or boat back to the mainland by this morning or, worse, the middle of some jungle in some country engaged in a decades-long civil war where it’ll be impossible to find them.”

  “We can’t go charging in there without more intel,” Cornelius said with a frown. “We were expecting close-quarters, not a warehouse assault. That changes everything.”

  “It changes nothing in terms of our goals, but it won’t hurt to watch for a few more minutes.” Maximus inclined his head toward the warehouse down the road. “But see what they aren’t doing?”

  Cornelius narrowed his eyes. “They’re reinforcing the area, but there’s nothing and no one moving toward us.”

  “Exactly. They might have spotted us leaving the tunnels or we tripped a motion sensor or something, but they’re not sending a force out, just tightening defenses there. If they knew where we were, they could just fire this way and hope to get lucky.”

  “They’ve got enough men to be annoying.” Cornelius lifted his rifle and peered through the scope. “Pretty loose line, though. Lots of holes. They outnumber us, but if they’re spread out that much, their numbers aren’t going to help them much.”

  “They probably have a lot of people inside doing things,” Maximus said. “Especially if I’m right, and they’re already planning an evacuation.”

  “We just sit here and wait?” CJ asked, sounding annoyed. “We could have done that with drones.”

  “The drones wouldn’t have been able to get through the tunnels by themselves.” Maximus stood, gripping his rifle tightly. “Out here, we’ll be able to use normal comms. We’ll spread out in the same three teams and hit them from three sides.”

  Headlights shone from down the road. The hybrids watched and waited as the source drew closer, a nondescript black van. It turned onto the road passing in front of the warehouse and stopped at front gate. One of the guards said something into a walkie-talkie before the gate opened, and the van slowly entered. It continued toward the side of the main warehouse where a large garage door slid open, but at this distance, even with the scope, Maximus couldn’t make out much of anything other than some crates.

  “Getting some final deliveries before they run,” Cornelius said.

  Tiberius growled. “Or it might be Quinen’s ride.”

  “I don’t like the idea you might be right,” Maximus said. “We can’t wait around anymore. My team will hit the gate. Zephyrus will take his team and hit the east side. Thaddeus will take his team and hit the west side. Everyone sweep widely after that. Close the net.”

  Zephyrus arched a brow. “How loud can we be?”

  Maximus offered a feral grin. “As loud as you want. If the Corps went out of their way to keep anybody out of that forest, they’re not going to want cops showing up. I wouldn’t be surprised if they already made arrangements for that. We hit hard now, and worry about the cops once we’ve taken care of the Corps.”

  “Understood.”

  Maximus turned toward the others. “First, we get in position. Judging by the distance, I’d say ten minutes should be enough to get where we need and keep our heads down before we hit the fence.”

  “We have to assume they’ve got thermals or night vision on those drones,” Cornelius said.

  Maximus nodded at Seneca. While all hybrids had Viking size, not all of them had the brown hair, beard, and shaved sides of the head that helped give the full stereotypical look. If Maximus gave Seneca an ax and a longboat, he’d be ready to terrorize some coastal villages. For now, though, Maximus needed a distinctively non-Viking trait from the other man.

  “Pick off those drones for us,” Maximus ordered.

  Seneca gave him a hearty smile. “But I didn’t bring my sniper rifle.”

  “If you can’t hit those drones at this distance with what you got, we’ll need to get your eyes checked.”

  Seneca answered with a lopsided smirk before lifting his rifle, kneeling, and peering through the scope. He swept back and forth for a good half-minute before declaring, “Four drones.”

  “Okay. Once the drones are down, we start moving. Everyone get ready.”

  The hybrids all clustered into their teams, CJ, Tiberius, and Cornelius close to Maximus. These men had been raised together, trained together, and fought togethe
r. They’d been fortunate to have been rescued from the Corps before they had to use their skills against innocent people, but their campaign of revenge against their creators and rescues of Vestals had given them elite experience on top of their elite capabilities.

  Seneca sucked in a breath and held it. A moment later, his rifle came alive, shattering the still quiet of the Maui night. Something sparked in the distance, the dark chunks of drone raining down like black hail. Another shot followed. The third came less than a second later. He jerked his rifle to the side and fired a fourth time.

  “Tangoes down,” Seneca said.

  “Move!” Maximus barked.

  * * *

  “In position,” Zephyrus transmitted.

  “Also in position,” Thaddeus transmitted.

  Maximus had expected more activity when Seneca took out the drones, but other than some guards going to inspect the wreckage, no one had changed position or acted concerned. The hybrid teams had moved in closer and not spotted any fixed heavy defenses like machine guns that might pose a serious threat. This was going to be easy. It was obvious that the Phoenix Corps wasn’t what they once were.

  His personal team was now positioned across the street from the warehouse, hiding behind a large green trash bin, their stealthy advanced unnoticed by the guards. Four guards now stood near the entrance. Others walked nearby or were stationed closer to the warehouse.

  Maximus took slow, even breaths. This might be it. The end of the Phoenix Corps. If their creators were eliminated, then they could consider a future free of paranoia. He could consider a future with Selena.

  His jaw tightened. He couldn’t be thinking of her, not now. Besides, if Quinen was inside, and they forced him to fix them, Maximus would have a shot at finding his Vestal. No matter how Selena made him feel, she wasn’t his Vestal. She couldn’t be. He’d know, but now he questioned if that mattered.

  Maximus sucked in another breath. It was time to focus. Everything else could come later.

  “I don’t see the big deal,” one of the guards said, the words easy to pick out for the hybrids’ superior hearing given the quiet night.

  “See the big deal about what?” another guard asked.

  “Damned werewolves.” The guard scoffed. “Bigger guys are easier to hit.”

  “They hybrids aren’t not really werewolves, you know. They just have some wolf genes and shit mixed in. It’s not like they change into actual wolves.”

  The first guard shrugged. “They growl and have amber eyes and shit. Besides, I don’t care. I do what I’m paid to do, and that’s shoot whoever the doc tells us to shoot. I’m glad he gave us the all-kill order for those mutts. We should have had it before. It’s dumb to worry about keeping any of them. He can always make more. I don’t see the point, but hey, not my money. Should have just drowned all those freaks when they were still babies.” He laughed. “Put ‘em down like they do strays in the pound, right?”

  It took all of Maximus’s self-control not to growl. He centered his mind instead on the useful intelligence he’d gleaned. A doctor was leading them, which fit in with the previous info he’d received suggesting Quinen was there. Given some of what they’d seen in the abandoned facility, the good doctor hadn’t given up his experiments.

  The other guards laughed. A couple others added their own pound jokes. Cornelius started growling but managed to stop himself after a couple of seconds. The guards would get what they had coming soon enough.

  “You hear something?” the first guard said, glancing around. “Like growling?”

  Another man laughed. “What? You really think those hybrid freaks are going to show up here growling? You’re just getting inside your own head, man. They’re probably still scratching their heads trying to figure out where we went.”

  Cornelius gritted his teeth. Maximus shook his head at the man, not worried. They’d all suffered, and hearing someone make such light of it was upsetting.

  The guards weren’t going to show restraint, and they knew who they were working for. The men he’d encountered in the forest didn’t seem to care about killing innocent people. All that added together made his choice easy. He’d half-worried they would run into a warehouse patrolled by a bunch of part-timers thinking they were guarding some private shipping warehouse.

  “Everyone pick a target,” Maximus whispered. “On three, we’ll all simultaneously take them down and move toward the fence.” He poked his barrel around the side of the trash bin, lining up with one of the guards. “One, two, three.”

  Twelve rifles cried out in perfect unison, the overlapping, resounding noise so loud it might have been mistaken for a cannon. Twelve guards dropped right after, blood spreading from their chests. The frontline of warehouse defenders had already been shredded in less than a second.

  Maximus jumped up and sprinted toward the gate. His teammates rushed after him, falling into a roughly triangular formation. They didn’t hesitate to fire another volley, taking down the second rank of guards who had rushed toward their comrades. Other rifles answered in the distance.

  He didn’t need to check in right away with the other teams. They all knew their jobs, and, in truth, any small group of them might have been enough for the mission given the quality of the enemy.

  With the immediate guards down, Maximus and his team slung their rifles over their shoulders and leapt onto the fence. They scurried to the top in seconds and already had their rifles ready before their boots hit the ground and pulled their guns down.

  A bullet whizzed back Maximus’s head. CJ took out the shooter, a guard who had emerged from the warehouse.

  “Beta Team, hit the warehouse from your side and spread out to watch for anyone escaping,” Maximus ordered. “Gamma, sweep across to the front gate, lock down the position, and get the gate open in case we need a rapid retreat. Help guard the perimeter. My team will find Quinen.”

  “Roger,” answered Zephyrus and Thaddeus in unison.

  Cornelius and Tiberius picked off another pair of guards stupid enough to rush outside and confront the angry hybrids. Light spilled out now from the open double doors leading into the warehouse. Maximus’s team had clear line-of-sight for entry.

  He didn’t know how many guards were inside the warehouse, but given how many the hybrids had already taken out, there couldn’t be that many left. There might be Glycons or other monsters inside, but based off the conversation they’d overheard, those kinds of assets weren’t available.

  Maximus allowed himself a triumphant grin. Quinen had gotten too cocky and left himself exposed. Now the hybrids would take advantage of that to finish his organization off for good.

  The hybrids cleared the distance from the gate to the door in seconds, taking up position on either side of the door. It opened into a wide hallway that ended in the main warehouse floor about twenty yards away. A row of inconvenient crates blocked most of their view. They couldn’t see much from their position other than piles of crates on top of pallets. The cabs and trailers of four semitrucks stood over the top of the crates, marked with different company logos. He could see a hint of the black van from before.

  Maximus gestured for the men to advance, and they crept forward, listening for anything out of the ordinary and keeping watch on the doors opened on either side of the hallway. They checked each room with two men sweeping inside but found nothing.

  With the bulk of Alpha Squad guarding the perimeter, Quinen couldn’t escape, and if he was anywhere, he was probably in the warehouse. The guards had probably been helping to load equipment onto the trucks.

  You’ve lost, Quinen, Maximus thought. We’ve got you surrounded, and you’re all out of surprises.

  “Screw you, creep,” shouted a familiar voice from the warehouse. Selena. “You’re going to pay for kidnapping me. I’m betting all those guns we’ve been hearing is Maximus and the hybrids, isn’t it? Your ass is grass.”

  Apparently, the doctor wasn’t out of surprises.

  Chapter Twenty-twor />
  Selena hoped her face wasn’t betraying her gut-churning fear. It was bad enough some goon grabbed her and knocked her out with a drug. Then he’d dragged her to some warehouse and when she woke up, she was in front of a wizened mummy of a man in a suit who looked at her with what could only be described as a leer. The only thing keeping her from throwing up was, weirdly enough, the gunfire outside. This didn’t look like the forest, and she didn’t know how Maximus had tracked her down, but she wasn’t going to question it. That’s what heroes did, showed up and saved people, especially cute redheads.

  The old man smiled. “I’m Doctor Quinen, my dear. Don’t be too frightened. I don’t intend to cause you serious injury, and I apologize for being rough, but it’s been difficult to conduct my business and research with various government and hybrids hunting everyone because of the Horatius Group.”

  Selena scoffed. She struggled against the meaty grip of the thug holding her, but it didn’t do any good. Stalling. That’s what she needed to do now.

  “You work for the Horatius Group?”

  “Of course not.” Doctor Quinen clucked his tongue. “I’ve worked with them in the past, but they had their own goals separate from my own. There was always too much of a religious flavor to their work. I came to understand that they couldn’t separate out their fanciful beliefs from the science of what we were all doing. They were fanatics masquerading as scientists. Their goals, perhaps, I could understand, but they let themselves be far too drawn in by myths and legends, obsessed with the past. Note, after all, their obsession with naming all the hybrids with ancient Roman names and even their organization.”