by David Lucin
Sam didn’t care about how they’d escaped or ended up running from the Major’s scouting parties. He was curious before, but now those details were inconsequential. All he cared about was Jenn. “That doesn’t answer my question. What happened to her? Where is she?”
Dylan spoke to Courtney through the radio while Wyatt and Aiden joined Tanis in the truck. Quinn came over and said to Sam, “We’ll tell you on the way. But Dylan’s right: we need to get going.”
Jenn had told Sam the truth about why Freddie volunteered, explaining that he wanted to succeed as a fire team leader, but the man had frozen and watched while she was stabbed by a crazed refugee with a knife. How could Sam ever forgive him for that? No, Freddie was a problem, a liability. Now he was here and Jenn wasn’t, and Sam needed to know why. “Tell me where she is. She should be with you. Why isn’t she?”
Freddie slouched, avoiding Sam’s gaze. “I didn’t want to leave her behind, but she told me to.”
He continued speaking, but Sam had tuned him out. The terror squeezing his chest morphed into something different, something hot and painful. His self-control slipped away little by little until it left him entirely. As though he were having an out-of-body experience, he watched himself throw a punch at Freddie’s cheek. Quinn deflected the blow, and his knuckles missed their target.
“Whoa!” Dylan threw himself between the two men.
Sam readied another strike but found his arms immobilized; Quinn and Yannick had grasped one each and were holding him back.
“Easy now,” Wyatt said from the truck. “Let’s all just take a breath and get out of here before we’re caught with our pants down.”
Sam struggled to break free of Quinn’s grasp, but she was stronger than she looked. “Sam, it’s okay,” she told him. “Relax.”
The sight of Freddie caused his blood to boil, so he dipped his head and stared at the asphalt while he tried convincing his lungs to stop sucking in ragged gasps. A few seconds later, he could fill them with air and then blow it out completely. His heart rate calmed, and he began to see things more clearly. He knew Jenn’s stubbornness better than anyone, so if she’d ordered Freddie to save himself, she wouldn’t have taken no for an answer. Could he really blame Freddie for listening to her? She was his squad leader, after all. Sam hadn’t even heard the whole story yet. If Freddie had decided to stay behind to help Jenn, maybe none of them would have made it out.
When Sam looked up from the blacktop, Freddie was holding out his hand. Sam eyed it for a moment. He didn’t blame Freddie for what happened—he blamed the Major. If anyone should be on the receiving end of Sam’s ire, it was that piece of scum. So he redirected his anger, reached out, and accepted Freddie’s peace offering.
“This isn’t over yet,” Freddie said with a firm shake. “We’ll get her back.”
18
Sam slid into a booth in an old, abandoned fast-food restaurant a safe distance from the Major’s compound. Courtney’s team had arrived a few minutes ago. She, Dylan, and Freddie had withdrawn to what used to be the kitchen, where Freddie was giving a full report on what he knew about the Major and his operation. Aiden, Tanis, and Wyatt sat in another booth. Illuminated by a flashlight standing upright on the table, the beam aimed at the ceiling, they passed around a bottle of water and each nibbled on cornmeal cookies and slivers of jerky. Outside, Quinn, Yannick, and the Guardsmen kept watch. The recon drone hadn’t shown any trucks in pursuit, but it was currently grounded to conserve battery.
Freddie, apparently done with his report, came out of the kitchen and approached Sam’s booth. “You mind if I sit?”
“Yeah, sure.” Sam didn’t feel like chatting with Freddie or anyone else, though he could probably use the distraction; he’d already chewed his fingernails raw in worry, and one of them had started to bleed.
With an exaggerated exhale, Freddie plopped himself into the seat, which creaked under his weight. On the drive here, he recounted the story of the escape and how his team evaded the Major’s search parties by hiding in backyards and keeping off the roads. Sam was shocked to hear that Jenn had killed a guard by stabbing him in the throat, but he wasn’t surprised. She would do anything to survive, and Sam admired her bravery and her grit. Her ingenuity, especially. Who else would think to fashion a weapon from a bucket handle and then pretend she was dehydrated so the guard would open her cell?
Freddie picked at a worn edge of the table. After a stretch of silence, Sam said, “Sorry for trying to punch you. I wasn’t mad at you so much as I was just . . . mad. At everything. The situation. It was tough seeing you guys and then finding out she wasn’t with you.”
“Don’t apologize.” Freddie swept back his blond hair. “I’d be mad, too. I am mad.”
“I get it, but it sounds like you did what you had to do.” Once Sam had heard the whole story, he understood Jenn’s decision; Freddie had no weapon and no way to fight, no way to help her, and if she hadn’t stayed behind to distract the Major’s men, none of her team would have made it to safety. As much as it pained him, he admitted that she made the right call. The selfless call.
“Maybe,” was all Freddie said. He dug around in his pocket. “She asked me to hold onto this for her.”
Light from across the room glinted off a rose-gold watch. “Is that—”
“Her watch, yeah.” He laid it gently in Sam’s palm. “The guard she killed, he stole it from her when they first put us in the cells, but then she took it back and gave it to me before I left. I guess she was afraid of losing it again.”
Sam ran his fingers along the inside of the wrist band, searching for the last vestiges of Jenn’s warmth.
“There’s blood on it,” Freddie warned. “But it’s not hers. Don’t worry.”
“Good to know.” Sam held the watch to his ear to confirm it was still ticking.
“I assume it has some sentimental value.”
“Her parents gave it to her. High school graduation present.”
“Ah, that makes sense. They were in Phoenix, right? When it happened?”
“Yeah, they were.”
Freddie drummed his fingers on the table. “If anyone can make it through all this, it’s Jenn. She’s a fighter.”
“That’s quite the understatement.” Using his thumb, Sam scrubbed some blood off the watch’s face. “She believed in you, since day one. Kept saying you deserved a second chance. To be honest, I always thought you were kind of a knob.”
Freddie laughed at that. “I don’t blame you. We didn’t really get off on the best foot, did we?”
They first met soon after Jenn’s unit was formed, when Sam dropped her off at Militia HQ in the Nissan. Freddie’s handshake was weak and sweaty, and he kept looking past Sam, refusing to hold eye contact, like he wished he were somewhere else or had better things to do. He’d muttered, Nice to meet you, but that was it. “I knew all about your uncle’s deal with Mayor Ruiz, so I thought you were just being arrogant. Even after I heard the real story, I still didn’t like the idea of you being in her squad if you couldn’t cut it.”
“Wait, she told you? About why I volunteered?”
“If you hadn’t noticed, Jenn kind of has a big mouth, and she’ll blab about pretty much anything. The girl’s got no filter.” Unless it involves her doing something dangerous, Sam amended silently. Then she’s as tight-lipped as ever. “I haven’t told anyone else, though, so your secret’s safe with me.”
“At least the whole Militia doesn’t know.” Freddie shook his head, but he was smiling wryly.
“Anyway, it sounds like Jenn was right to give you the benefit of the doubt. You might all still be locked away if you hadn’t stepped up.” He placed the watch on the table and slid it over to Freddie. “You should hold onto this.”
Freddie reached for it, then hesitated. “Are you sure?”
“I am. When we find her, you should be the one to give it back.”
He held the watch tight in his fist. “Thanks. I appreciate that.”
A round of laughter came from Wyatt, Aiden, and Tanis across the restaurant while Dylan’s voice fluttered in from the kitchen. “So,” Sam began, grasping for a way to stave off another awkward silence. “A script, huh?”
Freddie groaned and buried his face in his hands. “She blabbed about that, too?”
“Like I said, she has a big mouth.”
“No kidding. I’ll think twice about telling her any secrets from now on.”
Sam was about to ask what Freddie’s script was about, but Dylan and Courtney had left the kitchen. Courtney said into her radio, “Hawerchuk, call everyone in here. We’ve got a plan.”
When the Guard and Militia troops on watch duty had all gathered inside the restaurant, Dylan began with, “All right, I’ll keep this brief because we need to move ASAP. We know where the Major’s keeping Jansen. According to the map on my tablet, it’s a horse-training facility called Barbary Equestrian. It’s built like a citadel, with walls enclosing a central courtyard. It would be a nightmare to attack or break into, and now that the Major’s lost most of his captives, he’ll be on high alert. Worse, we have no idea how many men he’s got. It could be ten or fifty.”
Courtney jumped in: “Baker’s team will stay down here with me and Hawerchuk to recon Barbary Equestrian and watch the Major’s movements. The rest of you will pile into the other truck, drive back to Sunset Point with the dead drone, and deliver a written sitrep to the commander. We’re advising that he prepare to go ahead with the exchange in Anthem as planned.”
Did she consider Sam part of Baker’s team? He almost asked, but Dylan was giving him a discreet thumbs-up. Sam nodded his thanks. There was no way he would abandon Jenn now, not when he was so close to saving her.
“What makes you think the Major will actually show up to the meet?” Quinn asked. “We have four of his hostages. Why don’t we call in the Militia and take him out?”
“He probably doesn’t know we have them,” Dylan said. “And he still has Jansen, which gives him leverage, so here’s how I see this playing out. The Major will pretend he’s got all four hostages but will go to the meet with plans to take the supplies by force. I mean, he could trade Jansen for them, but one hostage is a lot less valuable than five, so he doesn’t have the same bargaining power as he did before. Plus, Parker said he was asking Jansen questions about Flagstaff, and she was convinced he’s going to raid us at home. I think he’ll want to keep her for information.” He took a short sip from a water bottle. “I hate to say it, but our best bet is to play it safe, hold our cards tight to the chest, and wait for an opportunity to make a move.”
Naively, Sam had envisioned the whole Militia marching on the Major’s compound while he heroically swooped in and rescued Jenn himself, but begrudgingly, he acknowledged that Dylan was right. A full-on attack could endanger her more.
“Let’s get to it, people.” Courtney clapped her hands together and waved toward the restaurant’s front door.
Freddie shot up from his seat. “Wait. I want to stay with you guys down here, not go back to the rest stop.”
“Us too,” Wyatt said. “Jansen got us out of there, so we owe her.”
While Courtney and Dylan exchanged a few whispers, Sam watched Freddie clutch Jenn’s watch. He wanted to help as much as Sam, and he should be given the opportunity to do his part. So Sam announced to the room, “I think Freddie should come.” Everyone turned toward him, waiting for an explanation. “He’s seen the facility. We could use someone who knows what it’s like inside.”
Dylan eyed Freddie closely but didn’t speak. Was he testing Freddie’s resolve or giving him the option of backing out? Freddie, to his credit, stood his ground and held Dylan’s gaze.
“Agreed,” Dylan finally said. “But only you. It’ll be a tight fit in the Toyota, so I hope you don’t mind riding in the bed with the drone.”
Freddie tucked the watch into his pocket for safekeeping. “No problem at all.”
“Perfect. Then let’s get packed up. We’ll leave in ten.”
* * *
In the operations tent, Liam finished reading the report from Baker for the third time. He was still reeling from the surprise of it all: four of the missing Militia troops had escaped and been recovered, but Jenn had stayed behind and was recaptured. That final point filled him with disappointment, souring otherwise excellent news. At least Baker knew where she was being held.
One thing about the report still had him confused, however: “Baker’s suggesting we go through with the meet?” he asked his three on-duty platoon leaders—Townsend, Dhaliwal, and Morgan—who crowded around the table with him. “I did not expect that.”
“Makes sense, when you think about it, Kip,” Dhaliwal said. “As soon as the Major knows we know he’s bluffing, he might change his demands or call off the deal, then decide not to hand over Jansen or even do something worse to her out of spite.”
As soon as he knows we know he’s bluffing. Liam had to repeat the sentence a few times to himself before he fully grasped its meaning, but he agreed with both Dhaliwal’s assessment and Baker’s plan. The Militia had an opportunity here, the element of surprise, and if Baker could catch the Major with his pants down, he might just be able to rescue Jenn.
“I’m of the same opinion,” Morgan said, holding a clipboard under her arm. She pushed up her glasses and added, “I believe it would be unwise to show our hand, so to speak, by not going through with the exchange as agreed.”
Liam waited for Townsend to chime in, but she only gnawed on her bottom lip. “You’re pretty quiet over there, Lieutenant,” he said. “Give me your honest opinion, not what you think I want to hear.”
She clasped her hands behind her back. “It’s risky, sir. A lot could go wrong. If Baker doesn’t succeed, then we’ll be stuck having to carry out the exchange with the Major, and since he doesn’t have all five captives anymore, he shouldn’t expect us to give him all five truckloads of food. To get what he wants, he might do something rash instead, like plant another ambush. That being said, I trust Baker’s ability to get the job done. He’s unorthodox, to say the least, but if I had to pick one person to head up this operation, it would be him.”
Dhaliwal scowled in mock offense. “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that, Town—I mean ma’am. I’m obviously the most qualified for this gig, and you guys went and put the Canuck in charge anyway.”
“I know you wanted to go,” Liam said, “but I can’t send all my platoon leaders away, and I’m next to useless without Murphy around.” There wasn’t enough food at the FOB or Cordes Lakes to fill the Major’s demands, so yesterday afternoon, Liam sent Murphy to Flagstaff with orders to explain the situation to city council and procure the necessary supplies. Liam considered having his Top lie to Gary, or not mention that Jenn had been captured, but he refused to mislead a friend like that. So Gary would be given all the details. No doubt he would try to join the convoy when it returned to Sunset Point this morning, so Liam also ordered Murphy to ensure the mayor of Flagstaff stayed in Flagstaff; Liam couldn’t bear to face him with Jenn still missing.
“I find it remarkable that the scout team was able to locate the Major’s base using the drones’ infrared imaging systems,” Morgan offered out of the blue. “Truly ingenious.”
“Yes,” Liam said, similarly impressed, “and you’ll have to congratulate Sam Orr when he returns, but for now, we need to focus on getting ready for this exchange with the Major and preparing for the worst-case scenario. Have we scouted out the school he wants to meet at yet?”
“No, sir,” Townsend replied. “With both recon drones in the city, we haven’t had the opportunity.”
“See if the one that just came in has battery. If it’s dead, juice it up, then prep a squad to head out in a truck. I want to know where the Major can spring a trap and where we can stage a platoon for an attack, if it comes to that.”
“Right away, sir.”
“And don’t get too close. Assume the Major’s alre
ady got men set up in the area.”
As she relayed his orders, Liam collapsed into the nearest chair. He’d been up all night, waiting for updates from the scout teams in the city. Now his bones ached with exhaustion, and the stinging in his eyes worsened with every blink. A vibration emanated from his Free Knee, telling him the battery had fallen to five percent. He would have to charge it before heading to the meet at noon.
“Commander,” Morgan said in her teacher’s voice, soft but stern. “I’d advise that you sleep for a minimum of one hour.”
“Wouldn’t be able to if I tried, Morgan, but thanks for looking out for me.”
“What do you want us doing, then?” Dhaliwal asked.
The truth was, much of what happened between now and the meet was outside of Liam’s control. He would reconnoiter the school and come up with contingencies for a scenario where the exchange went pear-shaped, but that was all he could do. As a field officer, he’d learned to live with this level of detachment. Dhaliwal, though, was used to doing more than planning. The guy needed a task so he could feel like he was helping. “Murphy should be down with the food shortly. As soon as he is, I want you and Morgan to inventory everything in case the Major wants a precise count. Until then, double- and triple-check the status of our combat drones. Make sure they’re ready to go for later.”
“You got it, Kip.” Dhaliwal clapped him on the shoulder and led Morgan out of the operations tent.
“Mr. Beaumont’s taking care of charging up the recon drone, sir,” Townsend reported. “Its battery is empty and the energy reserves in the mobile charger are low since it’s so early in the day, but there’s enough to scout out the school in Anthem. I’ve assigned my Third Squad to the mission, and if it’s all right with you, I’d like to accompany them.”
“That’s convenient, because I was sending you anyway.”
