by Angela White
He spotted Crista in the tree above them and froze in shock.
“I’m the signal,” Crista informed them evenly. “Open fire.”
Neil gave the men a minute to recover from finding Crista above them with a rifle and then whistled as loudly as he could. “Now, Eagles!”
They attacked an instant later and the night came alive with chaos.
Grenade launchers, automatic weapons, and smoke bombs sent barely awake soldiers fleeing in every direction and Neil swore furiously, “Herd them, goddamn it!”
His team began hitting the ground by feet and walls by shoulders, and slowly, the soldiers began to flee in the correct direction. Few of them thought to return fire and those who did were unaccustomed to the noise and smoke, and missed their targets. The others simply fired blindly into the fogbank, until they were out of ammunition or were finally cut down by Eagle rounds. Drafting citizens but not training them had backfired.
As their side cleared of all but the occasional moving target, the Eagles became aware of gunfire and screams coming from the other side of the too-spread out camp. They ran straight through the burning debris, arriving to discover a large group of Indians fighting the enemy. Except there weren’t many soldiers left to kill. The scene was gruesome—men impaled, throats slit, some even scalped.
Recognizing Grendin, Neil whistled and spun his hand in the air.
His team didn’t argue with the order to leave early. The Indians didn’t look friendly at any time, but here, they were intimidating and the Eagles got out of sight with feelings of relief. They were killers and hunters too, but the Indians were more than that and it showed. All the strength and power that had been stolen from them was returning and Jeremy thought if they won this war, the Indians would become a force again, one to be taken seriously. Their days of assuming the white man’s ways were over. Now, they might help set the standards for survival.
Crista was forgotten about; like her orders had said she would be, and she stayed in the tree, waiting. Angela hadn’t been sure which base Donner would flee to next. Two of them were close by, equally dangerous under an evacuation, and Crista was to stay close in case he chose to stop at this one. If he did, he would discover the carnage and keep going, but not before she tried to put a bullet into him somewhere. She had perfect shot of all the nearest roads. Angela had promised a level jump for two in the leg or arm, but Crista was aiming for one in the throat.
“One shot, one kill,” she repeated gravely. Anything more is a mistake.
6
Cynthia woke up as the ground around her began to rumble. She was still buried, waiting, and she felt her heart kick into high gear as the engine came closer. Friend or foe?
She almost hoped it were the latter. She was bored enough to cry. And starving.
The vehicle stopped on the road, near to where she was and Cynthia wondered what the odds were on her being run over while she slept. She hadn’t considered that part of this crazy plan.
“Cynthia?”
The sound of a familiar voice sent relief through the reporter and brought out her happiness to be alive. She decided Daryl sounded sleepy. She moaned loudly to bring him closer.
Daryl pulled his gun. That hadn’t sounded right. “Where are you? I have supplies.”
Cynthia groaned again, stretching it into a breathy whisper.
Daryl paled, slowing. He didn’t know where she was, only that he was to actually see her and verify she was okay.
“Cynthia?”
Daryl shouted as the hand closed around his ankle and Cynthia dissolved in amusement, giving away her hiding place.
Daryl gasped, staring, and Cynthia laughed harder at his expression. “You… you should see your face!”
Daryl wanted to be angry, but the feel of her amusement was catching and he grinned. “Damn woman.”
“That’s me,” she agreed, still snickering. “Put the stuff behind those bushes. Set it up if you want to.”
Cold, Daryl was reluctant to agree until he saw what he’d delivered. The ammunition coils gleamed under his penlight and he found himself still there an hour later, admiring the assembled toy.
Cynthia had joined him shortly after he started, thinking Angela had been right.
“I can take needed time and teach you to set it up, or I can send you a man who will get a hard-on just for being allowed to touch it and have it together in half the time you can anyway. No brainer.”
Cynthia grinned at Daryl’s expression. It was better than her prank. He actually had his tongue sticking from his mouth in concentration.
Daryl flushed, yanking his tongue in. “What?”
“Damn man,” Cynthia sent jokingly.
Daryl smiled intently, flipping on the charm. “That’s me.” He held her eyes, sending out a vibe she couldn’t miss or ignore.
“I see.”
Daryl shrugged, smile turning into a shy, hopeful smirk. “I always have, you know. Even when you were the bitch to him.”
That drew a scowl, but Daryl didn’t stop. “I was afraid of you.”
Cynthia gaped. “Of me? Right.”
Daryl shrugged again. “Imagine I was a reporter. Would you date me?”
Cynthia thought about it. “No. You’re not my type, honestly, but no. That’s too invasive. I don’t know how anyone dates a reporter.”
“Exactly. So I stayed away from you.”
She could see his point, but knew that possibly also being an outcast with her had been a big fear. Until he admitted that, she didn’t have a date for him or anything else. Not to mention he was providing relief for a few of the camp’s older females.
“I have to get back in my grave now,” Cynthia joked awkwardly. The joy was gone. “Cover that thing up when you leave.”
“I’m sorry for it,” he said suddenly, wondering if no perfume had been an order from Angela. He didn’t smell any flowers except the wild ones growing near them. It was one thing about her that he’d always disliked.
Cynthia’s brows drew together. “For not wanting me digging into your private life?”
Daryl chose open honesty. “For worrying over my place instead of reaching out to you.”
With that, he’d made it onto her list and she sighed, rolling her eyes. “You guys need to quit ambushing me. He hasn’t made a choice and I won’t either until he does. If at all,” she warned. “I can raise a child alone.”
Daryl let her go. He knew not to push a woman, especially one as stubborn as Cynthia. Daryl had spent too many nights dreaming about her to ignore this opportunity. He knew she’d pick Kevin in a heartbeat, but if Kevin didn’t want her, then Daryl had a shot he intended to take. Tonight was a perfect way to be able to let her know and leave her thinking. Until the action, there was little else to do and Daryl vowed to show Angela his gratitude somehow. It was almost as if she’d known and had been giving Cynthia a chance to sniff through other offers without Kevin or Adrian around.
It didn’t bother Daryl that the baby wouldn’t be his. He wasn’t in it for the kid, though he did like children. He wanted Cynthia and he planned to have her eating from the palm of his hand not too long after Kevin showed his yellow streak and backed out.
Daryl settled down nearby to keep watch while Cynthia’s other sentry slept, but Daryl felt the menace hitting him now and began to suspect who he would be relieved by come dawn.
Daryl smirked, scanning the dark trees and quiet mountain scape. He was looking forward to it.
It was hard for Kevin to stay in the cliffs and only watch. He could feel the sparks between the couple and the jealousy was frustrating. He wanted to be down there gazing at her like that. But he couldn’t and it had more to do with his own mind than it did with Angela’s orders. If he went down there, all they would do was fight and she’d be unprotected.
Kevin had been watching supply men come in and out of here since just after he’d arrived and all of them were rivals, though Daryl was the most serious competition and the biggest surprise.
Kevin hadn’t known. He had a lot to thank Angela for. She’d intentionally put him out here so that he would understand how many other Eagles were interested in his woman.
7
“Come on, boss. Time to go.”
Angela acknowledged Shawn’s words, but she didn’t move. They were still in the old location and not all of the tents and fence parts they would need had been loaded. She’d spent the day here, against Marc’s wishes, insisting she be brought at dusk. She hadn’t been able to stay away from her command center any longer despite the odds creeping steadily up on assassins making their way in.
“Leave it for our crews,” Shawn repeated. “We have to go now.”
Angela let him guide her over the mess left behind by the exodus. Shawn was her right hand through this. He would stay with her until the end and he knew more of the plan than anyone else, except Brady. They would either save the future or destroy it.
Shawn put her in the passenger seat and then climbed in behind her as he tapped the roof. Their driver, Greg, would also stay with her until the end. Shawn and Greg were her only guards now and while she felt a bit exposed without the usual clan Marc assigned, Angela was glad of the privacy when they stopped for the night. She wasn’t joining any of the camps. She’d chosen to spend this night alone to be sure she had her mind fully in the role. To do anything less would be disastrous.
Angela and Shawn went inside the small cave, while Greg found a place to hide the jeep. They all got settled with food and drinks, removing boots for a little comfort, but the trio didn’t speak much. It was awful, the things they were being forced to do, and they were all aware that some of it was going on right now, while they weren’t in danger. The guilt kept all of them up until dawn was nearly lightening the sky.
Angela passed the time by going over every inch of her plan, comparing it to what had happened so far, and searching for problems. She found too many things that could wrong, things that it was too late to change, and she suffered through the hours until her next update. Anything sent mentally might be picked up by Adrian or Conner right now, and that meant radio silence had been extended to that form of communication as well.
By morning, Angela was a nervous wreck that found a way to greet her escorts cheerfully when they woke. She would fake it until the end. She was, after all, female. Faking it was a skill they excelled at.
Chapter Fifteen
1
“There goes Bozo.”
Benson and Trister watched Donner and Sergeant Wallz climb onto the chopper with relief. Having that pale lunatic gone would be the best news of the day.
They both saluted smartly, but the second the chopper was out of sight, all the soldiers in the campsite began cheering. Without Donner here, they could sit back, relax, and not worry about…
Crack!
The gunfire from the rear of their camp sent many of the men fleeing toward the front and they drew up in shock at the sight of an army of ants invading their campsite.
The ants moved forward in an unstoppable wave that didn’t pause or even flinch from the shots the soldiers fired. For each ant the freaked out men killed, no less than five came out of the tree line to take their place. In a matter of minutes, the ants were all over the camp and soldiers were fleeing into the woods with whatever they had on them.
When soldiers around them began to fall, snatched into the weeds by powerful teeth and glowing red eyes, they ran faster.
Dog grabbed them from beneath the cover of the lingering fog and those he missed hit the next base camp screaming about a ghost in the mist, and with Donner’s radio silence, they couldn’t warn anyone else that a colony of big ants was coming north.
The camp of men they’d taken shelter with didn’t believe the stories, though they saw the injuries. They assumed their fellow soldiers had drunken too much the night before, and didn’t take their requests for more guns seriously. When the ants and Dog arrived, it took the men too long to recover from the shock and another enemy camp fell. Fourteen down, and the legend of the ghost had new life breathed into it.
Hidden by brush, Dog waited for the fleeing soldiers to come along and then lunged without warning, opening gouges in legs, snapping bones, and biting off fingers reaching for guns. Bullets grazed him and fists landed, but Dog was determined to help drive out the invaders and secure Marc’s safety.
Dog lunged at a trio who thought they had cleared the killing field.
“Lookout!”
“No! Ahh!”
Dog brought two of them down with his weight, jaws camping around a throat. He felt the spray of blood and then rose to lunge again, this time the hand raising the gun.
The third man fled and Dog snarled, following the noise of the man’s sobs.
As the battle fell behind him, Dog realized he wasn’t alone, but it was too late to stop the attack. He dove on the soldier, teeth going into the back of the screaming man’s neck.
Crunch!
A howl drew him around to discover a small pack of thin, hungry wolves that were much smaller than he was. Except for the pack leader. She was a huge, brilliant white that beckoned like sizzling meat.
Dog whined at the female, smelling her heat now, and he sat down, making hopeful contact.
The female howled again, in clear warning.
Disappointed, Dog watched the pack trot down the mountain, going west, away from the battles. Too bad I’m on a run, Dog thought. If he had time, he would run that bitch down and beg a little more, wear her down. She was stinky!
A bit reluctantly, Dog returned to work as he heard the stomping boots of another panicked duo.
I have places to be and soldiers to make pee, he thought. There was still a small list of things to do before he could be with Marc and Dog was eager for that. Good at it or not, the wolf didn’t like attacking the men in the funny uniforms.
The ants did though, and Dog padded over them as the insects swarmed his latest kill to drag to their own hidden den. With the limited communication, Dog had tried to explain that only those wearing green clothes were to be treated that way, but the wolf wasn’t sure they understood. He’d mentioned that to Marc, who’d told him not to say anything to Angela about it.
Dog didn’t intend to. Unless she was right about all of this and won the war, the wolf didn’t expect to ever talk to her again She would be taken away and his master would never recover. Dog would do anything to keep that from happening and he lunged with an ugly growl of denial.
2
Kyle pulled through what was left of Safe Haven’s gates as the chopper flew overhead and he rushed his cargo straight to the holding cell they’d left for this moment. They hadn’t known it at the time, of course. Only Angela had and she was the one to slam the door shut and twist the key after Adrian was dumped inside. He was unconscious and she didn’t bother to ask why. Her men had followed orders and that was enough.
“Everything else set?”
Kyle wanted to confront Angela over the use of magic to cause pain and over the safety net she had convinced Jennifer they needed to take, but the hard set of her jaw and the deep misery in her eyes stopped the words. He would complain later.
“It’s all set,” Kyle said as they watched the chopper circle for a landing. There was only one place left clear for it (in the center) and Kyle could feel the pilot’s wariness.
“You know what to do now?” Angela asked. “I wasn’t clear on this part.”
“After what I’ve heard, it won’t be a problem,” Kyle grunted. His was furious with Adrian.
Angela was glad it had worked out the way she’d foreseen. “And Kenn?”
“Yes, he wants the rest of it too.”
“Good. You’ll get the answers you need, I promise.”
Kyle wanted to ask more, but the chopper landing swallowed all other sounds into those huge whirling blades.
The chopper came down in a noisy series of whines and pops, and the Eagles below spread out to have enough room to fight if it was needed.
This was only supposed to be a negotiation, but their enemy couldn’t be trusted.
The chopper blades continued to spin as a pair of camo-dressed soldiers exited and moved toward Angela.
Dog, who arrived only minutes ago, spotted the men getting off the chopper and bristled. His next chore had been to escort the ants here, taking out soldiers along the way. He padded to the corner of the only tent in use, lurking in the shadows.
“Shut it down!” Angela shouted, staying back while Kyle and his team checked for weapons and took what they found. The soldiers didn’t like it, but with two teams of Eagles around them, they couldn’t argue.
“He’ll stay ready to leave,” Trey ordered coolly. He didn’t like going into the enemy’s camp unarmed, but he wasn’t intimidated. He’d been with Donner for a long time and knew how to play this situation. So did Sergeant Wallz.
Angela gestured to Shawn, who slid into the chopper and put his gun to the pilot’s exposed neck. A few seconds later, the large blades slowed and the noise faded.
Angela smiled thinly at Trey’s angry face. “Your pilot will stay with you. Your ride will stay with us.”
Trey returned her mocking tone, gently patting his chest. “All of us in one shot if you try to keep us here. I’m wired.”
Angela raked the short man with a knowing sneer. “You’re too small to keep.”
Trey flushed as those around them snickered openly.
Angela took a quick glance around to verify things were as she wanted them, and found her fighters eager. That would change, but for now, she would enjoy it.
“I’m ready to take a seat and hand out the Major’s terms,” Trey ordered, trying to regain control. “He wants this wrapped up quickly.”
Angela motioned toward the mess and he turned that way without waiting for her. It was obvious that he expected a man to appear soon to exchange terms with, and the insult didn’t sit well with the Eagles. Both of Angela’s personal guards blocked his way.
