— 8 —
The crack of the wooden door smashing into the wall of the room jolted Maggie awake. She threw back the covers and instinctively reached for her rifle. Cursing, she focused on the four figures bursting into the room.
Ian stood behind one of his muscular goons, swinging his police baton. “Wakey wakey, ladies!” He eyeballed Maggie. “Don’t worry, we’re only here for one of you.”
He lifted his baton, pointing it at each of the now-standing women in turn. “Not you, not you. Oh, I like you, I’ll save you for later.”
Maggie stepped closer to Becs and clasped her hand, pulling the shaking child into her side.
Ian spun around. He swung his baton and let it thump onto the wooden floor.
Raising it, he leered at Maggie, a cruel glint in his eye. “Yes. I’m here for Becs. Did you really think I was going to let you get away with that? What did you say? I could shove my job up my arse?”
Becs started sobbing, pressing herself closer into Maggie.
“If you touch her, I’ll end you!” she said, glaring at Ian.
Ian cackled, his laughter echoing around the room. Several of the women in the room moved away, putting distance between themselves and the men.
Ian indicated to his goons and they moved towards Maggie. She backed up closer to the wall. One of the goons pulled out a Glock and grasped Alice in a headlock, pushing the gun against her temple.
“I’ll give you a choice, Yank. The girl, or he’ll splatter your friend’s sexy head all over the wall.”
Maggie glanced at Alice. She focused her eyes on Maggie’s and nodded, accepting her fate. Distracted, Maggie didn’t notice the other two goons flanking her. She turned at the movement, jolting her head to one side. A meaty fist slammed into her head, followed by a blow to her side. The strikes were powerful and strong, and pain exploded up her spine. She dropped to one knee, losing her grasp on Becs. The other goon picked up the squirming girl.
Maggie gasped for air, each breath hurting. She glared at Ian who was staring at her, an amused grin on his face.
“There. That wasn’t so hard, now was it?”
Maggie could feel heat rising through her body. She pressed one fist to the floor as she struggled for breath. “This isn’t over, you skinny little bastard.”
“Oh, but I think it is, Sergeant.”
Maggie struggled to keep her face neutral.
“Yes. I know what you did before. That’s the problem with women. You talk too much. You can’t help it. Talk, talk, talk. You never shut up.” Ian swung his police baton up and pointed it at Alice. “Bring her too. My bed needs warming tonight.” He turned and raised an eyebrow at Maggie crouched on the floor.
“Sleep well now, you hear.” Cackling, he stomped out of the room.
Maggie rubbed her throbbing side.
Stay strong girls. I’ll come for you.
— 9 —
Colonel James Mahana stared at the vodka bottle sitting on his cheap flat-pack desk. He wanted to reach out, unscrew the cap and down the burning clear liquid in one gulp. He imagined the fiery sensation as it made its way to his rumbling stomach, dousing his hunger and, for a moment, clouding his mind, making him forget this nightmare, if only just for a time.
James pushed back his chair as he stood, hearing it thud against the wall. He rubbed his temples with the fleshy part of his thumbs, trying to expunge some of the tension. Sighing, he glanced back down to the report in front of him. Another stronghold gone. Auckland had gone dark, and to add to matters, his attempt to get the Prime Minister out from the bunker under Government House had failed miserably. It had been four hours and there was still no word from NZ SAS Team Kehua. A garbled radio message was the last communication he’d received from Major Ken Hind. He and his remaining team had been heading for the harbour, the bunker overrun by Variants. The Prime Minister and all those who’d sheltered within were dead.
And now I have a foreign navy heading this way. Where did it all go wrong? I should be relaxing on the East Cape, maybe doing a little fishing.
He knew where it had gone wrong. Those damn-fool scientists had played God once too many times, trying to create a super-soldier. Idiots. James rubbed the back of his neck, trying to ease the knots. His gaze flicked to the vodka bottle once more. The liquor sat there, taunting him.
He pulled a red binder from under a pile of paperwork and looked at the report he’d written for the Brigadier, shaking his head in frustration. How did the Brigadier expect him to beat back the Variant hordes? The Americans had failed at so many attempts. First with the bombing of the cities, Operation Reaper, Depletion and Kryptonite had all failed. They had reached out with Kryptonite, but with no air force to deploy it, the Brigadier had ordered him to come up with an alternate plan to rid the land of the monsters. It was time to fight back. They were on their own, and they weren’t going to leave the mainland to the Variants.
James had fought hard and long to get to the position he had. He came from a poor, forgotten and downtrodden neighbourhood, rife with domestic abuse and drug and alcohol dependency. He had shivered and coughed his way through many cold, damp winters, huddled under blankets with his siblings as his mother and father partied, smoked and drank their way into oblivion every weekend. The parties always ended with a fight. Some were brutal and quick, others long and full of screaming and shouting.
As the eldest, he’d done his best to protect his brothers and sisters, often taking beatings from his enraged mother and father. He’d learnt to protect his head and vital organs from the fury of the blows.
A deep rage had seeded in his belly, and as he grew older it festered, and had eventually bubbled to the surface.
As James had grown into his body, he had worked out and taken up martial arts, learning Karate, Judo and Kung Fu. When he was sixteen, his life changed. Cleaning up the room his sisters shared, he’d found his youngest sister’s diary. It had fallen to the floor. James had flicked through it and been horrified at what he read. One of his uncles had regularly abused his little sister. The deep-seated, festering rage exploded. James stomped down the road to his uncle’s house, barged in and attacked him. He’d smashed the man’s face with all his anger and fury. Everything that had built up over the last ten years came out. He didn’t stop until the police arrived and hauled him off his uncle’s lifeless body.
James had pleaded guilty and was tried as a minor. He served five years in a juvenile detention centre. He joined the army soon after getting out and channelled his anger into forging a career.
A knock at the door pulled James back to the present. With a last look at the vodka, he smoothed his receding hair down.
“Enter.”
A private swung open the door and met his gaze. “Sir, the Indonesians are making their way around Miner’s Head. ETA in one hour.”
James scratched at the stubble on his chin. “Inform the men to go on high alert.” He held the private’s gaze. “Is that radar operational yet?”
“No, sir. The team you sent to fix it is still working on it.”
“Very well,” James said. “Dismissed.”
The private shut the door with a thud.
James pushed back his chair, turned and gazed out into the darkness. A few lights around the settlement twinkled through the falling rain. He could see soldiers walking briskly as they prepared, moving mortars into position, moving vehicles. He had ordered all civilians indoors as soon as he’d received word of the approaching ships. He wanted to wait until he learnt what the Indonesians wanted before letting them out. The fact that the radar was down bothered him. It had been working fine. It was as if someone had sabotaged it just as the Indonesians were sailing in. Who? And more importantly, why? The timing was too convenient.
Normally HMNZS Te Mana was anchored in the harbour and they’d been using its radar. But it had sailed north three days ago to support HMNZS Taupo, forcing them to erect a new radar.
James caught his reflection in the window. His
brown eyes stared back at him. He could see black bags forming under his eyes. Letting out a breath, he entered the head room.
He stood for moment on the threshold, taking in the action. To his left, a long desk with computers lined the wall. On the opposite side of the room, through an open door was the radio room. It was narrow, and against one wall ran a desk with several radios. Four operators were chattering into microphones attached to headsets. In the centre of the head room sat a large square table covered with maps, a few chairs around it. Second Lieutenant Jay Badminton looked up and gave him a curt nod.
“Lieutenant, SITREP?” James said.
“Sir, the three Indonesian ships have rounded Miner’s Head. At current speed, the ETA is one hour. Eyes on have reported that they are slowing their speed.”
James looked at the map of Great Barrier Island and located Miner’s Head. “I want any available ships to be deployed out here to Maunganui Point, but tell them to keep their distance. I want wheels on the ground shadowing them. Have the guns on Kaikoura Island and across the channel been set up?” He raised an eyebrow.
“Yes, sir. Four ATGMs have been positioned.”
James ran his finger down the map, through the narrow channel of water. If they want to invade, they’re going to have to come through here. The rest of the shoreline is too rocky. Their behaviour hadn’t indicated as such, but, so far all attempts at communication had failed.
“What about our ANZAC brothers?”
“Nothing to add from them Sir. They haven’t detected any foreign ships encroaching on their islands.”
“Very well. Keep vigilant.”
Badminton nodded. “Yes, sir.”
James turned his attention back to the map, scanning for any weakness in his defences. They were on their own in this fight. HMNZS Te Mana and Taupo were twenty-four hours away.
A shout from the radio room shifted his attention. James turned as one of the operators strode over, waving a piece of paper.
“Sir, this just came in for you. I don’t know what to make of it.”
James glanced at what was written and frowned.
Mayday, mayday. Require immediate evac from GL-426. Power is failing. This is code black. Repeat, this is GL-426 requiring evac. Please advise.
“Signaller, advise GL-426 we are en route, ETA fifty minutes. And get me Captain Johns on the line.”
Well, Johns, it’s time to test your Renegades. You’re not going to like it.
The door to the radio room banged as the signaller rushed back in.
“Sir, it’s Falcon 7. They’re under attack.”
“Is Captain Johns on the line?” James asked, clenching his jaw.
“Patching it through now, Sir.”
James pulled down the shirt of his fatigues and picked up the headphones.
What next?
— 10 —
The rotor blades of the NH-90 helicopter loomed out of the darkness. The pilot had nestled it between the cabbage trees dotting the beach. Dee moved out from the bush and onto the dunes. The white sand squelched under her boots as she swept her rifle up and down the beach, checking for hostiles.
Jack gave her a nod and she peeled off left while he went right. She took up a covering position next to the chopper door and made eye contact with the pilot as he slid it open.
Dee let out a shrill, quick whistle, and watched as the Renegades exited the bush at a light jog. The Joneses jumped in and turned, covering Ben as he jogged the last few steps. He gave Dee a reassuring pat and hopped in, making for the vacant co-pilot seat. Jack turned and climbed in after him, with Dee bringing up the rear. Eric, stationed to one side, slid the door closed with a thud as the whine of the powerful Rolls-Royce engines fired up.
That was a smooth transition.
Ben had made them practise it for a whole day and night. Again and again, he’d timed them, shouting that they could do better, had to do better. That their lives would depend on it.
“Nice one guys,” Dee said. “About time we got that right.”
“Don’t you mean you?” Eric said, smiling.
Dee shook her head at him. Eric knew that his clumsiness had been holding them up.
She felt her stomach drop as the chopper lurched off the ground and swung out over the Hauraki Gulf and back towards Mayor Island. Dee was looking forward to seeing the boys and finally having a shower. Spending some quiet time with Jack would also be welcome. Maybe he would get the solar panel working better so they could watch a movie with Max and George snuggled between them, and Boss sitting in his chair pointing out all the plot holes while Jack argued with him. She smiled, a comforting tingle buzzing in her chest. The argument they’d had about the eagles in Lord of the Rings had lasted three days. Jack had become quite animated, gesticulating wildly as he explained why the fellowship couldn’t use them to fly the ring directly to Mordor. That argument had then morphed into why the Star Destroyer hadn’t fired on the escape pod in Star Wars. Dee shook her head, remembering how Jack had stormed off and gone into the bush for a few hours.
She was surprised at how much she loved Boss and George. Seeing them each day made her happy. She’d thought she had found pure happiness with Jack, but a sliver of the puzzle had always remained unfinished. Amid the terror and the chaos of their flight, she’d found that last piece. Dee knew the fight was far from over, and now, with this new threat from the Indonesian Navy, she worried that they would never have any semblance of a normal family life.
Jack moved over and plonked down beside her. Dee shifted, giving him some space. She met his gaze, watching his blue eyes twinkle, then nestled in to him, enjoying his warmth and comfort. No words were needed. She knew he felt the same. Had the same fears and worries, the same doubts. He was just as determined as her to not let the Variants get them. Dee felt for her necklace. Rubbing the metal and diamond between her fingers comforted her.
A squawk in her headset brought her back to the present.
“Renegades, listen up. We’ve got our first mission. It’s a straight pick-up. A scientist from a lab has called in for an immediate evac. ETA twenty minutes. I want everyone prepped and ready. Understood?”
“Affirmative,” Dee said. Her mind raced. They were barely trained. Were they even ready? She exchanged a glance with Jack. His brow was furrowed and he was fiddling the stock of his rifle. Dee was struggling to grasp that anyone was left alive on the mainland. And a lab? She looked at Ben, hoping to learn more.
“Renegades, let’s do this quick and clean. I want to get…”
Dee turned towards the cockpit at Ben’s pause. He had cupped his hand around one headphone and his head was tilted, looking out the side window. He shouted something into the microphone. Ben untangled himself from the co-pilot’s seat and moved between the seats to join them. He remained standing as Dee watched his face for any clues. It was grim. Her heart sank.
What was going on?
“All right, Renegades. I’ve just received word from Falcon 6. Mayor Island is under attack.”
“What?” Dee said. “Who?”
“All I know is it’s collaborators and Variants. Mahana has ordered us to proceed with our mission. Picking up this scientist is deemed a PRIORITY ONE. He’s sending two squadrons to Mayor Island as reinforcements.”
Dee stood up, grabbing the bar above her. “Are you serious? I don’t care about some scientist! That’s our home. The boys are there!”
“She’s right, Ben. Screw the scientist. It’s the friggin’ boys we’re talking about! Our family!” Jack shouted, standing beside his wife.
Ben looked at Dee and Jack, his face softening. “I’m with you guys. I want to get home and fight too. But this scientist, she may hold the key to ending this. So, I know how you feel. I love all those back on Mayor too. But we have to trust the soldiers to do their job. If we have a chance to find a cure for this madness, then we have to take it. If we do our jobs right, we’ll be back in the air within minutes.”
Dee’s head swam
as the thumping of the chopper blades pounded in her head. She squeezed Jack’s hand and felt him squeeze back, trying to comfort her as she sat back down. She couldn’t believe Ben was choosing the mission over her family. She loved Ben. After all, he had saved her, and helped Jack too. But now he was obeying orders rather than dashing home to fight? “Dee!” Ben shouted, getting her attention.
“Sir?” Dee said, brushing aside her emotions.
“I want you locked and loaded, and eat something. Understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
She busied herself, going through the motions, trying to take her mind off her swirling fears. Jack nudged her and handed her an energy bar.
Dee clicked bullets into her magazines as she swallowed the food and secured the loaded magazines into her pouches.
She stared out the window at the Coromandel coastline whizzing by. The chopper was flying low over the Firth of Thames, hugging the coast. All was dark, and Dee wondered if anyone had escaped the scourge and headed for the bush-clad mountains of the interior. She knew just how littered it was with valleys and gorges, trails and old huts.
The NH-90 helicopter flew up the coast, skimming over the town of Thames, lying silent and dead. It followed the Waihou River south for twenty kilometres before turning south east. Dee recognised the blunt, rocky cliffs of Mt Karangahake emerging out of the dark.
She raised her eyebrows. They built a lab, here? Where?
“All right. We’re two minutes out. I want a clean exit, just like we practised. We’ve got a five-minute hike from the LZ to the entrance. The scientist is a Doctor Katherine Yokoyama. She should be there waiting for us, just inside the lab entrance. We grab her and go. Stay frosty. Possible Variants in the area,” Ben said, joining them in the hold and grabbing his gear.
“You two lovebirds ready for some real action?” Tony said, grinning.
Extinction New Zealand Box Set | Books 1-3 Page 23
