“I can’t help it,” Jenny said. “There’s so much dust down here. It’s probably my allergies kicking in.”
Another person sneezed across the room, and a cough followed, the sounds echoing off the concrete walls and low ceiling like a chain reaction.
A conversation broke out near a column where a family sat.
“Why’d they bring us down here?” asked a woman holding a baby. She rocked it back and forth. “Are we in danger?”
“I heard they spotted Variants,” replied another woman.
“Just a matter of time before they hit us,” someone called out.
“It’s because of those scientists,” said a husky woman with a rough smoker’s voice. “They brought something in during the dead of night. I heard the commotion. Whatever they’re doing is probably not something the monsters like.”
The first woman with the baby spoke again. “We were fine before. Now we have all these scientists and… these guys,” she said, nodding her head in Beckham and Horn’s direction.
A man with a hunched back walked over to Horn and Beckham. A woman with braided red hair stood by his side, one arm tucked through his to help him stand.
“You all know something about that?” she asked them.
The man in the chair wheeled over, readjusting his shotgun when he arrived alongside the other two.
“You’re new here,” she said. “You know what they brought in, don’t you?”
“Ma’am, we’re sheltering down here just like you,” Horn said. “Why don’t you go sit down with your, uh, entourage?”
“Don’t try and dismiss me,” she snapped. “I’ve had enough of that. I want some damn answers.”
“And I’m telling you we don’t have them,” Horn said in a deeper voice.
Some of the people got up from their cots and chairs, forming a tight circle around Beckham and Horn. Those that remained sitting turned their attention on the group.
“Great,” Horn muttered.
Beckham considered telling a lie to get them off his back and make them relax, but these people weren’t stupid. Plus, that would only come to bite him in the ass later. Better to be honest, but sparing in the details.
“It’s true.” Beckham held out his hands in a placating gesture. “A few Variants were spotted far outside the outpost perimeter. We’re just taking a precaution, but there’s no sign of any immediate attacks.”
Hushed voices broke out. A couple of loud curses, too.
Javier, Jenny, and Tasha didn’t seem disturbed by his raised voice or the news. Spark and Ginger moved closer to the gathering crowd, curiously. They were a welcome distraction to some of the spooked children that came to pet them.
“I promise we’re safe here,” Beckham said.
The promise didn’t seem to help the red-haired woman to relax. She shook her head and muttered something to the old man leaning against her for support.
“We haven’t had a beast set foot in this outpost for eight years,” said the veteran in the wheelchair. He narrowed his eyes, looking between Beckham and Horn like he was studying them. “Seems awfully strange that you all show up and that happens now, doesn’t it?”
Beckham got the feeling the man was trying to place them in some memory.
“These fine gentlemen are here to make sure the beasts don’t get inside,” said a voice in a refined Texas drawl.
Beckham turned to see Fischer entering the shelter with his two guards. The two soldiers standing guard parted to let them through.
“If I were y’all, I’d be thanking these two war heroes. They’re trying to keep you and their families safe,” Fischer said as he approached. “The reason everyone here is still alive is because of the sacrifices they made in the Great War.”
“This dude again,” Horn whispered to Beckham.
Beckham nudged his friend discreetly to indicate he needed to be polite.
Fischer took his cowboy hat off and exchanged a nod with Beckham and then Horn.
“You can all go back to your seats,” Fischer said. “You’re safe down here.”
Everyone turned away except the woman and the two older men.
“Come on, Sally,” said the guy with the hunched back.
Sally held her ground. “My father fought in the Great War too, when he was sixty years old. He spent his golden years fighting the beasts and knows a thing or two about sacrifice.”
Beckham gave the guy a once over again. He didn’t look a day younger than eighty with wrinkles, liver spots on his bald head, and thin, wispy hair. Maybe her math was off.
“Honey,” said the man. “Please…”
“My father’s name is Lieutenant Frank Rodman,” she said. “He has stage three bone cancer from the chemicals he was exposed to in the war, so maybe you should be thanking him.”
The retired Lieutenant waved a hand. “Sally, dammit.”
“And this is Sergeant Christian Brown, also a veteran of the Great War who broke his back and lost his family,” Sally said, gesturing to the man in the wheelchair.
Brown took off his baseball cap, revealing a bald skull with scars across the top that looked to be from Variant talons.
“Nice to meet you,” Beckham said to them in turn. He reached out and shook the lieutenant’s hand, then the sergeant’s.
“Sally, you’re absolutely right. These men do deserve our thanks and respect,” Beckham said. “Without men like them, none of us would have been able to start our lives over after the war.”
“We should be thanking you,” Rodman said. He squinted at the fatigues Beckham and Horn both wore. “I thought I recognized you both. Sally, I’d like to introduce you to Captain Beckham, and Master Sergeant Horn. True heroes.”
“Wait, you know them?” Sally asked, skepticism clear in her voice when she looked at Brown.
Both men nodded.
Sally pursed her lips, looking between Beckham and Horn. Then she frowned, and said, “I’m sorry for coming off a little hot.”
“Skepticism isn’t the worst thing we’ve faced,” Beckham said. “You’re just trying to look out for your friends and family. Trust me, I can understand that.”
Horn just grumbled.
“I don’t mean to sound so standoffish, but I know the military brought something here,” she said. “It can’t be a coincidence that the beasts showed up now.”
Sally still didn’t look like she was going to back down, and as much as Beckham respected that, he also couldn’t spill classified intel just because she was someone willing to fight for it.
“Ma’am, if you were in danger, I would tell you. I believe we’re all safe down here,” Beckham said. “I wouldn’t put my family in harm’s way, or yours.”
Sally nodded, but didn’t seem satisfied.
“Let’s leave these men and their families alone now,” said Rodman.
Brown nodded and turned his wheelchair, returning to his spot along the wall.
“All right, Dad,” Sally said. She turned back to Beckham, but then reached out to help her dad.
Beckham also reached out to assist.
“Sir, if I may,” he said.
Frank nodded and his daughter and Beckham helped get him back to his cot.
“Thank you,” Sally said.
Beckham nodded and returned to his family where Fischer was talking to Javier.
“Your son was just telling me how he hopes to be a soldier or a scientist someday,” Fischer said. “I’m trying to convince him being an engineer—especially a petroleum engineer—isn’t such a bad thing.”
“Good luck with that,” Beckham said.
Fischer smiled and Beckham smiled back.
“Your wife is still in the lab, I take it?” Fischer asked.
“She is,” Beckham replied.
“When do we get to see Mom again?” Javier asked.
“Shouldn’t be long now,” Beckham said.
The dogs wiggled their way through the throng of civilians. Fischer crouched and petted Ginger
.
“Good lookin’ dogs,” he said. “I sure miss having one.”
Beckham also bent down, tousling the fur behind Spark’s ears. In a quiet voice, he said, “Want to tell me why you came down here?”
“To tell you something I didn’t earlier,” Fischer said. “This room isn’t exactly fit to talk candidly about certain subjects, though.”
Beckham checked to make sure the kids weren’t listening. Javier had gone back to tapping his foot, bored. The girls were talking to Horn.
“I’ll be right back, okay?” Beckham said.
Horn frowned and mumbled something about being a babysitter.
“Kate should be here in about half an hour,” Beckham said. “Why don’t you guys get out some food?”
Javier went to their bags and started digging in.
“Thanks, buddy,” Beckham said. He left with Fischer and his guards before Javier could protest.
The soldiers standing at the shelter door opened it to let them out. They walked up the basement stairs and into the chilly night. Smoke fingered away from chimneys across the outpost skyline.
Beckham pulled his collar up and looked to Fischer.
“All right, so what is it?” he asked.
“There’s something I want to tell you that I would regret too much if I didn’t, Captain,” Fischer replied. “I was told to keep this quiet, but my conscience kicked in and my gut tells me you’re someone that I can trust. In a world where even the crack of a branch might mean something’s trying to kill you, that means a lot to me.”
“And?” Beckham looked at his watch. It was already eight o’clock, and Kate was supposed to be meeting them any minute for her short break.
Fischer looked around like he was making sure no one was listening. Tran and Chase moved outward to give them some space.
“I think this place is compromised,” he whispered. “And I think Presley knows it but won’t admit it.”
“You mean there are collaborators here?”
Fischer nodded. “We believe there are cells at virtually all the outposts.”
“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t suspect the same thing now,” Beckham said. “But I wanted to trust Presley that he had this place locked down.”
“He sure thinks he does, but General Cornelius warned me I needed to be cautious. He fears that the collaborators know far more about what we’re up to than we could have ever predicted. We need to be vigilant.”
Beckham cursed his decision to bring the children here. If there were collaborators here, then Manchester was a ticking time bomb. Especially with the mastermind here.
“Reed!”
The sound of Kate’s voice snapped Beckham from his thoughts. He saw his wife jogging down the street with two soldier escorts.
“We’ll talk more later,” Beckham said to Fischer.
Kate ran to meet Beckham.
“What are you doing outside? Where are the kids?” she asked.
“With Horn. Don’t worry, I was just talking to…”
“S.M. Fischer,” he said, holding out a hand. “Doctor Lovato, I presume.”
“Oh, pleased to meet you,” she said, her gaze flitting to Beckham. “I’ve only got a few minutes. We’re making headway, and I need to keep at it.”
Beckham nodded and looked to Fischer.
He had an almost wistful look in his eyes as he said, “Go be together with your family, Captain.”
“Nice to meet you,” Kate said. She gave Beckham a look that told him she knew something was up. He surveyed the quiet outpost one more time, hoping he and Fischer were both wrong about the collaborators.
— 20 —
Dohi stood beneath a line of trees inside the National Accelerator Laboratory campus. A full moon burned away some of the darkness enveloping the scattered buildings and trees.
If he were alone, he would have no issues infiltrating a place like this. There was plenty of cover and shadows to conceal his search for the SDS equipment. But with Mendez and ten Wolfhounds following, sneaking was far more difficult.
He held up a fist to halt the team.
From their vantage in the trees, he surveyed a row of four warehouses lining a road. A large office building loomed on the opposite side of the street. Nearly a dozen SUVs and trucks were parked in a line along the curb.
Mendez paused beside him, and the ten Wolfhounds took shelter between the tree trunks. Using his scope, Dohi glassed the vehicles.
As he suspected, these didn’t have rotted tires or rust tracing up the side panels. More telling of recent activity were the pair of Humvees at the end of the line. An M249 was mounted atop each with ammo belts trailing inside.
“People with firepower like that aren’t fucking around, amigo,” Mendez said.
“Best we don’t piss them off then,” Dohi said.
“We’re already sneaking around their backyard. That would piss me off.”
Martin moved up next to them, fidgeting with the AK-47 necklace hanging from his neck. He pushed it back behind his armored vest. “Think we should call this in?”
“What don’t you understand about radio silence?” Mendez asked.
Martin shrugged.
Dohi remained prone, considering everything he had seen so far. The people who used those vehicles couldn’t be far. Normally he could tell if he was being watched. This felt different. It was like these people had disappeared in a hurry.
Maybe the people had seen Ghost and the Wolfhounds, then bailed, he thought.
But why would they leave behind these vehicles?
“Martin, you wait here with the rest of your team,” Dohi ordered. “Stay hidden, okay?”
“Yeah, I got it.”
“Mendez, you’re with me,” Dohi whispered.
They peeled away, creeping around the north side of the warehouses through the underbrush. Dohi normally didn’t like splitting up, but Martin was clueless. Leaving him behind was better than dragging him along.
Dohi scanned the rooftops for contacts, expecting someone to pop up with an RPG or a machine gun. He used the cover of the vegetation until they made it past the fourth warehouse.
That’s when he heard it. Muffled footsteps and the clink of weapons. Someone was headed toward them.
He motioned for Mendez to get down, and they dropped to the grass. Dohi kept his barrel just high enough to fire should they be spotted.
Two men in black fatigues walked through the woods at a hunch. They were no more than a half-dozen yards from Dohi’s position. Further north, Dohi spotted another pair. Then beyond them, another.
Mendez tapped Dohi on the shoulder, then pointed toward snipers that had appeared in the windows of the office buildings rising above the trees across the street from the warehouses.
“What are we going to do?” Mendez whispered as they watched the mysterious soldiers continue onward.
Dohi took out his radio. “We should let Fitz know.” He opened a private channel. “Ghost 1, this is Ghost 3. Do you read?”
No reply.
“Ghost 1, Ghost 3. Contacts spotted.”
Still nothing.
An icy vein of anxiety wormed through Dohi.
“What’s the matter?” Mendez asked in a low voice.
“Radio isn’t going through.”
Dohi tried to open a channel to Martin.
“Wolfhound 2, Ghost 3. Contacts headed your way.”
Again, he got no response.
These people had set up an ambush that, thankfully, Dohi had discovered. But they must have a Warlock system operating, which made Team Ghost’s comms broke dick.
The implications were nerve wracking. Fitz, Rico, Ace, and all the others were out there, potentially headed straight into another ambush.
“What’s our move now, jefe?” Mendez asked.
Dohi shook his head, unsure.
“Maybe we should just shoot our way out of this,” Mendez suggested. “I can get a drop on those two, you get the other pair. That leaves just two
more.”
Dohi thought about it but there were too many contacts to take on without suffering major casualties.
“I say we try making contact,” he said. “If nothing else, we’ll learn their intentions.”
“How about contact with bullets, not words? We got the drop on them. Couple of clean shots, and we got ourselves an escape path.”
“And a gunfight. I want to avoid that. Follow me.”
They stood quietly and snuck through the trees. Dohi was close enough to the first pair of contacts that he heard them breathing.
With a hand signal, Dohi gestured for Mendez to take the one on the right. He would take the other. The men moved like jaguars through the forest toward their marks.
Mendez slammed the butt of his rifle into the back of his target’s head. The man fell unconscious instantly. Dohi took out his buck knife. He locked one hand around his target’s mouth and pushed the blade against his throat. The man froze in Dohi’s grips.
Pulling him tightly against his body, Dohi took him back into the woods while Mendez dragged his guy. When they were safely out of view and away from the other patrols, Dohi loosened his grip around the man’s neck.
“Listen good,” Dohi said. “I’m Sergeant Yas Dohi with Delta Force Team Ghost, and I’m not here to harm you. Nod if you understand.”
His prisoner hesitated, then nodded.
“We’re not here to hurt you. We’re here for some old equipment in those warehouses,” he said. “That’s all we want. Nothing else.”
The man didn’t reply.
“I’m taking my hand away from your mouth but if you scream, I’ll trace this knife across your throat. Got it?”
Another nod.
Dohi turned the guy around enough so he could see the fear in the man’s eyes. He trusted that meant the prisoner wouldn’t do anything stupid. Then he slowly removed his hand, but kept the blade pressed against his flesh.
“How many of you are there?” Dohi asked.
The man kept his lips tightly closed.
“Seriously, we don’t want to hurt you,” he repeated. “We want equipment and that’s it. If you help us, we’re willing to pay.”
The man snorted. “Fuck you and whatever you have to offer.”
Mendez glanced over, but Dohi kept his gaze on the man.
Extinction Cycle: Dark Age Box Set | Books 1-4 Page 56
