by Angela White
The woman didn’t have any teeth, but her grin was warming. She patted his big arm and pointed toward the teepee waiting behind her. “You stay?”
Marc started to say no and then shrugged. “Why not.”
He left Quinn standing there in surprise and sank down on the fur pallet with a groan.
Marc dug into the food with his fingers and didn’t stop until it was gone. Then, he licked his fingers. Nothing that came out of a can ever tasted as good as what a little old woman with an ancient pot could accomplish.
Quinn went to let the others know and found himself thinking Marc’s choice was right when the men got loud and had to be quieted. Their jokes and chatter drew disapproving looks from their Indian hosts and Quinn had to threaten to send them to Angela before there was peace again. Some lessons were harder than others, and not making noise even on down time wasn’t easy for most of these men.
Quinn found a place behind Kenn and Adrian, wondering why those two were acting as if they’d had a fight. The two Marines hadn’t spoken more than a few words since they were picked up.
Quinn noticed Kyle was absent and assumed that Eagle was still sleeping it off in the rear of the stinky van. He revised his theory when he saw who had guard over the tents behind them. Quinn frowned. Angela was burning Kyle at both ends. Why?
“She knows he’ll need it,” Adrian commented, regarded Quinn “Just like you do, like we all will. This won’t be a walk in the park.”
“When does it begin?” Natoli asked. He knew, but his braves wanted it confirmed.
“Any time now.” Adrian sighed, accepting a small bowl of the pungent venison stew. “Surprised the quiet has held this long.”
Natoli’s men passed that around and the Indians surrounding them began to pack and prepare. Each camp had duties to perform and no one wanted theirs to be the cause of failure.
Quinn gave Kenn a subtle nod and got a glower in return that was also surprising. Quinn shrugged. Kenn was often an ass because Quinn was Marc’s right hand. Why he would pick now to be one, Quinn wasn’t sure.
“You wanna walk and talk?” Adrian asked Kenn.
The Marine thought about it, and refused. “You go on. I’m good right here.”
That drew more attention from both teams and there was an awkward silence where Adrian left, alone.
“What’s up with that?” Seth asked curiously, drawn out of his worry over Becky.
Kenn didn’t want to lie, so he chose his words carefully. “Things may not be right with him. I’m checking it out.”
“Oh, yeah. Look who that’s coming from,” Quinn stated dryly.
Kenn flushed, but didn’t argue and it told the men around him that he was serious.
“What are you talking about? Adrian’s the shit,” one of Zack’s team said firmly. “Nothin’ he can’t do.”
“Really?” Kenn watched his idol walk into the shadows and vanish. “He can’t quit chasing Angela. I had to, and even our new alpha-asshole was stopped by the camp, but not Adrian.”
Frowns and furrowed brows, but no denial came, and Kenn went on, sounding confused. “He said he isn’t one of us—told Brady and me that during the ride out here.”
“What did he mean?”
Kenn found the choice easier than he’d thought it would be.
“I... I think he might be a traitor. Maybe he was one all along and we all overlooked it to save our own skins and have some glory along the way.”
“That can’t be true!” Zack protested.
Kenn was deep in his own mind and he began to repeat the conversation from the truck almost word for word.
Aware of what was going on, Adrian stayed in the shadows. There were questions to be answered and fates to be chosen.
Do I still want it? Adrian asked himself suddenly. I’ve screwed most of it up. But there are others, in other lands, and I could be that again.
It wasn’t an easy choice for Adrian, but he made the only one that felt close to right.
I’m staying until the end.
And will you give them the truth they think they want? his demon asked.
Adrian nodded, voice like razors. “As soon as she gives the order, I’ll deal out so much truth, they’ll choke on it.”
Chapter Eleven
1
“Wake up!”
Jennifer’s demon couldn’t wait to face what she’d spent so long surviving, and her lashes opened to reveal crimson orbs. “You can’t keep me. Better kill me now.”
Donner grinned eagerly. “Oh, I will, have no doubt about that, sweetheart. Now, where were we?”
Jennifer drew in enough air to spit in his face and was rewarded with Louis hitting her too hard and knocking her out again.
Success! she thought as the darkness slammed into her.
Donner shoved up from the table and pierced Louis with inescapable rage.
The Special Forces man dropped heavily to his knees, clutching his throat as he fought for air.
“She brought the witch out!” Donner screamed. “I had her!”
Louis shrieked as Donner roared, and blood trickled from the man’s nose and hairy ears.
Donner spun from the room, still growling and snorting like something wild and everyone stayed out of his way. Donner was the uncontested leader here and unless one of Safe Haven’s descendants took him out, it would stay that way.
Louis slowly picked himself up off the cold floor, not completely sure what he’d done wrong.
When Jennifer moaned lowly, Louis dragged her to the crate that Donner had insisted on. He dumped her inside, only making sure she was breathing and he reveled in the scrapes, bruises, and dried blood on her body. He’d been getting into punishing her every time she displeased Donner. When she’d spit on him, the urge to tag her temple had been too strong.
Louis held his head as he straightened up, vision swimming. He missed the shadow near the open door as he shut the lid to the crate and left by the opposite door. He needed a bathroom. Donner might have made him shit himself a little. He needed to check.
The shadow by the door came into the room and advanced toward the crate as quietly as he could.
Conner opened it and slipped the small bundle inside without looking. He could hear her breathing and it would have to be enough. His job was to arm Jennifer, not rescue her. His instructions had made that clear, but it was one of the hardest things that Conner to do. If he had to look at her, there wouldn’t have been any way he could have.
Conner remembered to leave the door open, reasonably sure he hadn’t been noticed. Everyone had faded into the woodwork when Donner melted down and Conner had taken advantage of it.
The teenager returned to the vehicle area he was lingering around during their stops. He had to hope no one noticed that he didn’t have any real military training. He was surviving off the supplies in his kit, items that were quickly running low. He was supposed to have a delivery coming and he hoped so because when they arrived, he was going to insist they help him break Jennifer out—against Angela’s orders.
2
“Sir?”
Donner didn’t answer and the private took a step back. “I’m sorry, sir. I have a message.”
Donner grunted, mostly under control now. “What is it?”
“The other two base camps are set up and getting ready, but they don’t know what to do with the hostages they’ve gathered.”
“How many?”
“Three in northern camp. One in central. None so far from our western base.”
Donner was glad to hear it. Safe Haven wouldn’t be guarding from that direction.
“Have them transferred here,” Donner ordered. “One daily transport.”
“Where do you want them stored?”
Donner shrugged. “Out in the rain, naked and shivering for their men to see. How does that sound?”
The private had paled. “Cruel,” he answered honestly.
“Excellent. Now get on it.”
“Yes, sir.�
��
Donner turned back to the tree line he’d been concentrating on to calm himself. So far things were going as he’d thought they would, though there were more spies being sent in than he’d predicted. All of these first roundups would be attempts to do to the government, what the government had done to them, but Donner wasn’t new to this game. He now had three small fold out camps to launch his attacks from. It was time to make contact.
Donner turned around and caught a jerky movement from the corner of his eye, sensing quick, worried thoughts.
He narrowed in on a soldier who clearly didn’t belong among them and grinned sarcastically. “Oh, Louis? Come here a minute, will you?”
Conner was taken before he knew they were onto him, grabbed and hauled to the ground where Donner blew a dart into his neck.
As he faded, Conner glared at the enemy. “My dad’s coming. For you.”
“Tell that cow farmer I’m right here,” Donner quipped.
“No farmer,” Conner muttered, trying to hold on. “Mitchel.”
Donner froze. That name was on the top of every fugitive descendant list and Donner felt the winds of fate glance in his direction as he considered the odds of success.
In the end, it was the challenge that made the choice. By accident, he had Adrian Mitchel’s son. If he were careful, and sly, Donner might be able to turn this ‘all guts, no glory’ run into a tale that would become his legend.
After Canada, Donner had known he was going freelance, with thoughts of taking over in some far southland or even challenging Benjamin at the big bunker, but with two alphas…
Donner made his choice and didn’t care that it would cost him nearly every one of the nine hundred soldiers he had left under had command. This was his chance to improve upon the result he’d gotten in Canada. Adrian had gone rouge himself and according to the rumors, that had happened because of Angela. Donner considered that proof of compatibility. They could be forced to send out a Maker’s Call.
After that, Donner didn’t think he would care about bunkers or power anymore. He would be going home.
Still at Donner’s side, Smucker realized what had happened and wasn’t surprised that Donovan’s body was one of those reported found outside the campsite. The two ammo dumps were already stripped clean, and the third had been a trap that killed all but two of the men. Those soldiers hadn’t been all the way to the cave entrance when the explosions had started. Now, the enemy had come in, killed, assumed a hiding place in plain sight, and Smucker had fallen for it. Everyone understood why Smucker wasn’t in command of anything. Jobs like these took men like the Major.
3
“I have your spies.”
The evil in that voice would have stunned the listeners if they hadn’t already been shocked by the radios suddenly working. All over the camp, in the trees and across the two hundred miles between them, Donner’s ruthless words spilled out in a disruption of every activity that was taking place.
“Some of these hostages are being sent to base. The rest will be executed for treason.”
Eagles quickly turned down overlapping volumes and stood silent in thick dread.
“If you attack anymore of my men, I will kill those being held here and elsewhere. Defiance will result in much bloodshed of your kind.”
All those listening waited for the surrender demand, expecting Angela to pop up at any moment after that. She would defy this hard, merciless man and more of theirs would die.
“I demand the surrender of the Safe Haven council—all of them that I don’t already hold, anyway. You have ten seconds to reply.”
In small camps and groups across the area, people exchanged terrified glances, hearts pounding harder. The enemy had made first contact and he didn’t sound forgiving.
“This is a negotiation attempt. Would you hear terms?” Angela’s voice was cheerful despite the situation.
“I would, if you’re discussing surrender.”
“Terms to be discussed include that.”
Donner’s voice finally showed some signs of life as he chuckled. “So we can meet face-to-face? No, that won’t be necessary. You’ll surrender yourselves.”
“No.” Now, Angela’s voice was as hard as his. “You’ll send a representative here to negotiate.”
“Or what?” Donner led. He had obviously expected trouble from her.
“Or, I will shoot myself and Adrian, destroying your mission, ruining your career, and making sure that none of these people ever stop trying to kill you, no matter where you land after this mission.”
Shock, outrage, determination to make her words the truth—the survivors felt all of those things and every one of them was handed a tiny victory when Donner caved.
“I’ll send a chopper.”
“We’re ready when you are,” Angela replied. “One man, one guard, and the pilot. We’ll shoot it down if we read more.”
“At noon,” Donner answered. “In return for my negotiations, you’ll send Adrian Mitchel with the chopper.”
“Agreed.”
Angela hadn’t hesitated and Donner read the tone. His voice held a deep frown. “Alive, Ms. White. A dead body will earn you the bombing you deserve.”
“And a bombing will earn you a slaughter,” Angela retorted. “My people are everywhere.”
At an impasse, Donner fell back to the deal they’d made. “Chopper at noon. Mitchel sent back on the bird.”
“Agreed. Out.”
Angela hanging up first, on top of the impasse, gave the Eagles some hope. They talked about how badly it could all go, and whether or not Adrian was being given up so easily because he’d come between her and Marc. A few of them also wondered if he were being sent in as an assassin or decoy.
In Safe Haven, where very few people remained, Angela remained in her tent.
Donner wasn’t going to be fooled—not in the ways she needed him to be. He had an obsession that she hadn’t count on, one that was infinitely more dangerous than a bomb. Their losses would go higher than she’d estimated and in the end, it might not matter anyway. Now that she’d read Donner, Angela wasn’t confident her plan would work. Daryl may have been right that she was about to get them all killed, and Angela stayed in her small tent, working on it. Every cloud came with a silver lining. She just had to find this one before the storm slammed into them and drowned everyone.
4
“Well, that was a great way to find out,” Adrian bit off as Marc and Sebastian tied him up. He hadn’t bothered to struggle after seeing how quickly Marc had reacted to those words. The wolfman had known all along that this was coming.
Kenn was already unconscious nearby. When he’d tried to stop them from taking Adrian into custody, Shane had knocked him out with a rag soaked in chloroform.
“She sold you out,” Marc agreed happily. “And not on your surrender terms, either. Gotta admire that.”
“I do!” Adrian snarled. “My son, for yours. Was that the deal?”
“I had no say in that,” Marc stated. “But it’s better if Conner isn’t with us either. He’s like you.”
“Yes, he is,” Adrian said. “And he heard that. He’ll come for both of you.”
“No, he won’t,” Marc said, using his bandana to gag his enemy. “He’ll spend his life trying to rescue you. I know how this bond works now, remember?”
Adrian was forced to shut up as Marc jerked the bandana tight and he began pelting Angela with mental protests.
“Yeah, she said you’d do that,” Marc grunted.
Shane handed him two items and Marc quickly tipped the bottle into the handkerchief and slapped it over Adrian’s face until the grunting, fighting man sagged in his iron grip.
The Eagles thought about lending a hand, but it was Adrian, and Marc didn’t need the help, so they gawked in surprise instead.
“Get the jeep,” Marc ordered, looking around to find that Sebastian had already done it and was pulling up.
Marc lifted Adrian’s heavy body over his sh
oulder and then dropped him into the backseat. He then slid cuffs around Adrian’s wrist and pulled out the dart gun Angela had provided through Kyle. The chloroform wouldn’t hold their kind for very long.
Marc shot Adrian in the neck, loving the feel and wishing it were for real. He motioned to the curious Eagle in the driver’s seat. “Get him to our base camp. Angie will handle him from there.”
The jeep took off and Marc went to Kenn, who should be waking soon. Unlike with Adrian, Kenn’s exposure had been minimal. He nudged the Marine with his boot. “You up yet?”
Kenn groaned and Marc settled down across from him to wait. When Kenn woke up, they would have a short talk. Kenn would make a choice and then they would go together on the next parts of their mission, or he would spend a few minutes burying the body. Either way, Marc didn’t care. The worst of this war was about to begin. He didn’t have time for forgiveness right now, only justice and vengeance.
5
“You’ll go in my place, to negotiate,” Donner stated as Philips came into the room and closed the door. “Now that we have Mitchel’s son, it’s time to meet them.”
“Me? What am I negotiating for?”
“Adrian and the woman, the one in charge. Kill the rest of the descendants after those two are secured.”
Philips stilled. “What did you say?”
“Kill them all.” The Major gave his lackey a sharp glower. “Do you have a problem with that?”
You’ve earned your name, the lackey thought, but he knew better than to give any answer except for the expected one. “Of course not, sir. I’ll pass it down.”
Donner studied the man with cold glare before lighting his pipe. When the silence thickened to uncomfortable, the Major pointed to a photo on the folding desk. Everything they were using right now had come with them. The descendants hadn’t left anything usable at the other base. “She is the only one we don’t kill if things go south. Bring her in alive at all costs.”
Philips glanced at the old photo, recognizing a birth scene at a hospital. “How long have you been watching that one?”
