“Kara?” a soft voice said. “Everything all right?”
Kara looked up to see Lauren. She appeared concerned as she cut a fresh strip of gauze to place over Spencer’s burns.
“Oh, sorry, I must have spaced out for a second,” Kara said, trying to cover her lapse. Somehow she’d managed to walk across the entire room without realizing it. “We just wanted to see if we could help with anything.”
Lauren gave her a look filled with sympathy. Kara hated it.
“Why don’t you and Navid go take a break somewhere?” Lauren said. “I appreciate all your hard work, but you two really deserve a rest.”
That wasn’t what Kara wanted to hear.
“Maybe Lauren’s right,” Navid said.
Kara’s face flooded with heat. She couldn’t tell if she was angry or embarrassed or...goddammit, what if they were right? Her shoulders sagged, and her chin slumped against her chest. Maybe she should rest. They obviously didn’t need her here, getting in the way, begging for a task like a little kid.
An animalistic growl abruptly sounded from her right. Instinctively she whipped around. It was coming from one of the patients.
She sprinted across the bay before the others moved. They hadn’t fought the Skulls—she had.
With a lunge, she pounced at Tammy’s bed. The woman’s eyes were open, bloodshot and peering around hungrily. She lashed against her restraints. Saliva sprayed from between her teeth and splattered against Connor’s face. He was frozen, his mouth muttering something incomprehensible.
As Kara threw her weight against the woman, desperate to prevent her from tearing into her son with her teeth, she heard the word slipping from the boy’s mouth, over and over again.
“Mommy...Mommy...Mommy?”
The woman growled in response, bellowing above the beep of the EKGs and the rattle of her bed as she struggled.
“Sedatives!” Lauren cried.
Kara pressed her palm against the woman’s cheek, forcing her head to the side. The restraints on the bed groaned.
“Son of a bitch!” Peter snapped, adjusting the drip on the woman’s IV. “This should’ve kept her knocked out for a goddamn week.”
The boy wailed, pounding on Kara. Hitting her like she had made his mom angry. Like she was hurting his mom. The boy’s small fingers tangled in her hair, ripping it from her scalp.
“Navid!” Kara yelled. “Take the kid!”
At once Connor was pulled off her—along with a handful of her hair. Tammy’s jaws worked slower, slower. Her bellows became low growls as Lauren tightened the woman’s restraints and Peter monitored the IV drip.
Kara’s chest heaved as she caught her breath. Her limbs shook with the fading effects of adrenaline. “Didn’t...didn’t she get the chelation treatment?”
“Yes,” Lauren said. “She did.”
“Then...then it’s not working?”
Lauren didn’t have to say a word. Her silence was answer enough.
***
Frank thanked the gods for the clear skies. Zeus, Horus, Anu, Yahweh, Jupiter, Thor. Every damn one. By the time they had convinced Colonel Ronaldo of who they were and what the hell they were doing flying a relatively small FedEx plane across the Atlantic, the storms had abated enough Frank felt safe taking to the air again. Most of the trip had gone smoothly, and now he had spotted the flecks of green that signaled their next stop.
“There it is. Cape Verde,” Frank said. There was a hollowness behind his sternum as they drew in closer. None of their radio calls had been answered, but Frank didn’t want to dwell on what that said about their chances of an easy layover.
“What’s it like down there?” Rory asked.
“Never been,” Frank said. He eyed the archipelago nation as they approached. “But I heard it’s nice. Beautiful little volcanic mountains, beaches. Might want to visit now while the prices are cheap. You’ve got your pick of islands, each with their own airport. Badass Airlines services all of ’em. All of ’em that don’t have Skulls, that is.”
“Let’s just pray one of them isn’t infested,” Shepherd said.
“And what if they all are?” Rachel asked.
“Vacation doesn’t last forever. Not even for the Skulls,” Frank said.
The sun glinted off metal structures on the nearest island. A long stretch of black asphalt was bordered by rocky outcroppings and sandy beaches. Some of the volcanos that had formed the islands were still active, with eruptions occurring in the past several years, but Frank was more concerned about the Skull activity. They could cross this island off their list.
“Fuel on the spare tank good?” Frank asked.
Rory gave the tank a smack. “Seems like we’ve still got a decent amount.”
The Caravan veered over the first airfield. From a distance, it looked as if a herd of animals were grazing in the tall grass. But the local goats and monkeys didn’t walk around on two feet, nor did they have bony plates covering their bodies.
“So that one’s not going to work,” Rachel muttered.
“Got a head count?” Frank asked.
“Maybe three or four dozen on the runway alone,” Rory said. “Why?”
“If all the airports are like this, we’ll want to choose the one where we have the least of these bad boys to shoo away.”
The midshipmen didn’t seem to like that answer. Frank steered the Caravan over the rest of the island. They soared past a rolling green-and-brown landscape that led to a stretch of squat hotels near a harbor. Skulls wandered the beaches, streets, and the small university campus.
He directed the Caravan to the next island. This one was much smaller, just a ramshackle town and docks that wouldn’t suit sea craft much bigger than one of the Huntress’s Zodiacs. Frank counted six or seven Skulls wandering between the houses, then saw an overgrown field surrounding a dirt runway. Two single-prop planes sat in the sun, and the nearby hangar seemed to be stocked with oil drums and what looked to Frank like several gas cans.
“Only a couple attendants on hand. Think we can make this work?” he asked.
“I’m ready to stretch my legs,” Shepherd said. “I think this trip has killed any love I had for flying.”
“Good news is we’re only two-thirds done with it,” Frank said. “So you’ve got plenty of time to learn to love it again.”
“Doubtful.”
Frank took the Caravan down, and the landing went as smoothly as it could on a half-gravel, half-dirt runway. Two Skulls lumbered with a lethargic gait toward them.
“Rory, Rachel, take care of our guests,” Frank said. “Shepherd, you and I are on maintenance duty.”
The midshipmen dropped out of the cabin door with their rifles swinging to their shoulders. Each took a couple of shots. Bone chips and dust flew off the Skulls, then rounds caught their faces, sending them tumbling backward. Frank ignored a distant cry from another Skull. He waited for a chorus of replies, but none came. That was a good sign. Together, he and Shepherd wheeled over the fuel cans.
“Wonder how all the Skulls got to these islands,” Shepherd said.
“Airfields and ports,” Frank said as he turned on the fuel pump. “I bet people came, scratches and all, trying to find safety in paradise, but turned it into hell instead.”
The midshipmen continued their patrol around the Caravan. Sporadic gunfire announced the occasional visitor, but it didn’t take more than fifteen minutes to refuel and reload.
“Who’s hungry? We have time to visit the airport McDonald’s,” Frank said when they returned.
Rory looked around as if he expected the fast-food restaurant to pop up on the otherwise empty airfield. “A Big Mac never sounded so good.”
Frank shook his head. Sarcasm was completely lost on the poor kid.
They took off with little fanfare. The weather held out with only occasional turbulence and light rain—nothing to rival the storm they’d fought to make it to Lajes Field. When he judged they were within a hundred knots of the Huntress, he
had Shepherd use Rachel’s radio to call on the ship’s encrypted line.
“Badass Airlines?” Chao’s voice came back. “You sure do think highly of yourself.”
“And my passengers, Chao. You saying they aren’t badass?” Frank looked around the cabin for smiles but got only eye rolls.
“You’re going to get a chance to prove it,” Chao said. “We’ve had a bit of an issue with the Oni Agent going airborne.”
“A bit of an issue?” Frank said, the buoyant happiness in his chest deflating. So much for his welcome-home party. “I’m not a doctor, but it sounds like you’re understating the issue. I’m normally in favor of getting things airborne...but not the Oni Agent.”
“Yeah, well, it’s become enough of a problem that Lauren doesn’t think you all should actually come into the ship.”
Frank heard groans from the passenger seats. “Then how the hell do I get to my new ride?”
“You all can stay on the deck of the Huntress. We’ll have supplies brought to you. And don’t worry, Lauren’s already planned out how they’ll be decontaminated and packaged, so you all won’t catch anything. Uh, hopefully.”
Frank really didn’t like the uncertainty in Chao’s voice. But what choice did he have? “And after we load our chopper, the plan is just to fly straight to Bikoro?”
“Hi, Frank!” Samantha’s voice broke in to their conversation. “Missed you!”
He smiled. “Hey, Sammie.”
Chao cleared his throat. “To answer your question, yes. You’ll need to leave pretty much immediately.”
Now Shepherd groaned. “More flying...”
“And I’ve got some more bad news for you,” Chao said. “There isn’t exactly a clear place to land. The entire shore is infested.”
“We’ve dealt with ’em before,” Frank said. “Shouldn’t be a problem.”
“This is worse,” Samantha said. “It’s like Lollapalooza down there.”
As they drew closer to the Huntress, Frank flew the Caravan along Soyo’s harbor. It was indeed blanketed by Skulls. Goliaths stood among them. One tossed a smaller Skull at the Caravan. Frank had to admit Chao and Samantha were right. He’d never dealt with groupies like this before.
He turned the Caravan around, swooping low and wide over the trees and the ruins of Soyo. “It doesn’t look like we’re going to find an airfield. As some of you may or may not be aware, the Huntress is most definitely not an aircraft carrier.”
“What’s the plan then, Captain?” Shepherd said gruffly.
“Rory, you still have that emergency inflatable lifeboat handy?”
“Uh, yep,” he said unenthusiastically. “I mean, yes, sir. It’s right here.”
“Keep it that way.” Frank eyed the waves splashing along the Huntress’s hull.
-44-
The men in gray tapped on the keypad. Dom squinted, trying to see which numbers they hit, but one of the soldiers was blocking his view. The doors opened with a hiss, and the dull glow of red battle lights streamed out.
With another groan, the doors snapped shut, and the men were gone.
A slow, heavy drumbeat walloped through the night. With each beat, the ground tremored slightly. The Titan was on its way out.
The hunting cries of Skulls grew louder. A few small pops—they might have been gunshots or snapping trees—echoed in the distance. It sounded like the Hunters and CDFs’ distraction was working. They were riling up the Skulls, drawing them to the Titan. It was an enormous gamble, but the payoff would be worth it should they succeed.
“Bravo, Alpha here,” Dom whispered. “Guards abandoned post. How’s the herd?”
“Chief, they’re wilder than a mosh pit at a heavy metal concert,” Miguel said. “Kofi’s got his boys and girls herding ’em like cattle, and we’re setting up shooting positions in the trees outside the Titan’s pit.”
“Excellent,” Dom said. “Goes without saying, but—”
“Be careful,” Miguel finished for him. “You too, Chief.”
If all went as planned, the herd of Skulls would descend on the Titan before the thing even left its pit. Its mere presence could block the base doors. The Skulls would flood the opening, and the guards would be forced to muster around that entrance, all their focus on beating back the invading Skulls. Even if the monsters didn’t make it into the pit, it would draw the base garrison’s attention. And the cacophony of riled-up Skulls would help drown out any noises Dom, Alizia, and Meredith made skulking through the facility.
Miguel’s voice sounded over the comm link again. “Alpha, Skulls are inbound. It’s now or never.”
Dom rose to a crouch. Alizia drew herself to her knees, and Meredith shouldered her rifle, ready to cover them. “Let’s roll!”
Dom sprinted to the door. He pressed himself flat against the windowless metal. Meredith gave him a thumbs-up, and then Alizia dashed to meet him. As she ran, he held his smartwatch up to the keypad. There was nowhere to insert the remote access transmitter that would connect the keypad to Samantha and Chao.
He stepped away from the keypad and scanned their surroundings with the rifle. “It’s like we thought,” he said when Meredith joined him. “Can’t hack it remotely without access.”
“All right, no problem,” she said. She took her multitool from her pack and pried up the lip of the keypad. It came loose at one corner but got stuck. More prying didn’t seem to help.
“Correction—slight problem,” she amended.
“I got this,” Dom said. He wheeled back his rifle and slammed the stock against the pad. Several keys broke, but the panel fell away, attached only by wires. It felt good to release so much energy after crawling and lying on his belly all day. But Dom didn’t take too long to gloat about the small win. He inserted the transmitter onto a silicon chip behind the keypad.
“Huntress, Alpha. Ready to short the door,” Dom said.
“Gaining access...” Samantha paused over the comm link. “Now!”
The door hissed open. Alizia started to step in, but Dom grabbed her shoulder. He shook his head. “Hold up. It’s our turn to lead.”
He took a handful of loose soil and tossed it in the opening between the doors. The green glow of lasers reflected on the specks of dust. “Huntress, we got trip alarms. Please advise.”
“Don’t set them off,” Samantha said. Dom could imagine her smirking.
“Hold on,” Chao said. “We still have local control over their door security.”
The lasers fizzled off.
“Thanks,” Dom said. “Now we can go.”
“Good to have you on our side,” Alizia said as she took her first tentative steps into the corridor. Dom followed with Meredith close behind.
“Got a readout on our security situation inside?” Dom asked over the comm link.
“Hard negative, Captain,” Samantha said. “All that keypad gave us is door security. We’re completely blind inside. You need to get access to their intranet if we’re going to be at all helpful.”
“Can do, will do,” Dom said.
Dull red lights reflected off the metallic walls of a long corridor. It ended in a T-intersection about a hundred yards away. On both sides, a multitude of doors lined the walls, but there was no activity evident. The place appeared ghostly empty. Had everyone already moved toward the Titan’s hold?
Dom directed them, one at a time, to make their way down the corridor. Each sign they passed was written in Russian, Farsi, and English. That helped support their hypothesis that this was some kind of Russian-Iranian endeavor. They passed doors that led to bunks, storage, spare mechanical parts, boiler rooms.
Dom signaled for them to pause outside a room labeled Garrison Quarters 3A. Maybe they had a computer in there. Something to connect to the base’s network. He wrapped his fingers around the door handle as Meredith prepared to clear the room. Alizia waited, her rifle at the ready.
Dom counted down and then pushed the door open. Meredith and Alizia flitted in with Dom behind th
em. Several rows of bunks stood sentinel in the cold room. Glaring fluorescent lights burned over the neatly made beds. Tables lined the wall. Cards and poker chips lay scattered about them as if a game had been interrupted.
No people. No computers.
Dom nodded toward the exit, and the trio went back into the hall. The next door was labeled Bathrooms, so they skipped it. Dom prepared to check another door, when the clatter of boot steps echoed from the T-intersection. Voices called out in Russian. He ushered Meredith and Alizia into the bathroom.
After gently closing the door, Dom pressed an ear against it, listening for the marching to pass. Then he heard something else. A cough. He turned to Meredith and Alizia. They shrugged and pointed to one of the stalls. A toilet flushed, and the door opened.
They had no time to hide.
Alizia seemed to have already made that evaluation herself. She lunged toward the door as a rotund man waddled out, brushing the wisps of a comb-over with the back of his hand. When he saw Alizia, his jaw dropped and his eyes went wide. No sound came out. Dom would’ve thought the man had died standing if not for the slow, dark discoloration of his khaki pants spreading from his groin and puddling on the floor.
The thud of wood against bone cracked out. Blood sprayed from where Alizia snapped the man with her rifle’s stock. He crumpled, flopping to the floor in a smelly mess. Dom had gotten used to Alizia’s armor, but the man must’ve thought some demented Skull had infiltrated the hideout and come for revenge.
“We need to hide him,” Dom said. He snatched a pair of zip-tie cuffs from his pack.
“I can gag him,” Meredith said. She cut off the sleeve of the man’s shirt and wrapped it around his head, tightening until it pressed between his lips.
“He is a heavy man,” Alizia said as she lifted his legs.
Dom grabbed the man by his shoulders. “No doubt about it.”
“To the stall?”
“No,” Dom said. “Someone is likely to find him there. The storage room.”
The Tide (Book 5): Iron Wind Page 28
