Impact Zone

by Cara Carnes

  Fuck.

  “Which of you is Spade?” The voice crackled tension in the air.

  “You fucking son of a bitch! I swear I’ll gut you if you say a damn thing!” Dallas shouted.

  “I’m Spade.”

  The gray-haired man walked with his hands behind his back, much like Stan when he entered. He wore a Sig strapped to his right hip and a KBAR at his left side. He halted in front of Spade.

  “You’ve worked for us before,” the man commented. “Not sure what to make of you here, with them.”

  “If you looked into my work, you know there’s nothing I won’t do if the pay is good,” Spade commented. “The Arsenal might be the goody two shoes of groups, but they pay well. It’s sure as fuck not enough for this bullshit.”

  “And you think we’d be interested in someone who willingly betrays their current employer?”

  “I think you want what I know enough to take the risk. What have I got to lose?”

  “Shut up,” Fallon growled. “You aren’t getting away with this, Spade.”

  “Sorry, man. Nothing personal. Business is business.”

  “Perhaps if you prove you know something of value, we can entertain your proposal. What do you have that’ll help prove your worth?” The man glanced at everyone. “I find it unlikely I’ll give a damn.”

  “Every operative is issued a passcode into HERA once they’ve been assigned to a team. If we’re ever in the field and cut off from our leader, we can enter the system via a backdoor the brainiacs created. It’s heavily encrypted and I doubt you shits have a hacker good enough to get into the main system, but it’d give you access to enough intense shit to give you a hard-on for the real deal.” Spade laughed. “Assuming you’ve got the balls to use it.”

  “The code?”

  “No fucking way you’re getting that until I’m out of this room and away from these fuckers. They’ll kill me the second they get the chance,” Spade said. “Cut me down, hold me elsewhere if you want. Then I’ll give you the code and how to get in.”

  “And I’m supposed to trust that you aren’t running a secondary mission?”

  The bastard was smarter than Stan by far. Whoever he was, he wasn’t dumb enough to take such a huge offer at face value.

  Only team leaders had access to HERA, and that was limited to mission only work and heavily guarded by Edge, Quillery, Z, and Cord. And Jesse now. But there was a backdoor, one created as a secondary system back when Edge’s shit went down.

  It’d remained intact, just in case, and had been discussed during several security meetings with the entire compound because it’d been roped into Zoey’s underground network as a way of securing assets for operatives cut off from teams and in critical need of support.

  Christ.

  Fallon never would’ve thought of using the emergency backdoor entry into Zoey’s underground as a Hail Mary. The network was tied into HERA and slicker than hell. For anyone who wasn’t familiar with HERA, it’d seem like a treasure trove.

  A treasure trove that wasn’t active yet—beta testing wasn’t starting until after Carlisle was handled. Had Spade forgotten?

  “It’ll take some time to get everything in order to prove this data valid. Until we do, we will sequester you in another area.” The man motioned toward one of the men to remove Spade.

  Son of a bitch. Was the crazy bastard’s plan going to work?

  Fallon remained quiet, unsure what to do. Dallas screamed and cursed as they hauled Spade away. By the time they were alone once again, Fallon was left with hope that Spade’s tracker was now pinging a location, even if for only a few seconds as he was moved from room to room.

  “I hope to fuck that doesn’t blow up in our faces,” Dallas growled.

  The son of a bitch took longer to enter Rhea’s faraday cage than she expected. Amusement glinted in his gaze as he pranced in like a peacock. Revulsion rolled in her empty stomach. Words didn’t escape her dried mouth or raw throat. She’d screamed them all out watching…

  Begging.

  She squeezed her eyes shut.

  “That was fun.”

  “You twisted psycho,” she spat angrily. “Where the hell did you take Spade?”

  “Ah, he has taken the path of least resistance. It seems some people’s loyalty can be bought if the price is right. In this case, it’s his life.” Stan stooped down to where Rhea sat on the floor, her back against the wall she shared with Fallon and the others. “You can stop this. Give me what I want, and I’ll end their suffering.”

  Rhea clutched the tracker. Acting too early would create problems, possibly get someone killed. Fear crawled inside her, a toxic burn in her heart. “How could I have been so wrong about you?”

  “This is your fault, Rhea.” He reached out to touch her. She jerked her face to the side, swatting his hand away. Her pulse pounded in her ears.

  “If you’re nice to me, maybe I’ll let them have a longer rest before the next round.” He reached out again. This time Rhea let him stroke her hair, let him think she was softening to his suggestions.

  “Please. Don’t hurt them. Let them go.”

  “You know that can’t happen. How they die will be up to you, though. It can be quick and painless or very, very painful.” He touched her chin. “Did I tell you we’ve designed a new neurotoxin?”

  No. Rhea needed info on whatever the new toxin was, but she couldn’t feed his ego. “I’m not interested, Stan. None of what you design is new. It’s all the same shit, slightly different ingredients. Don’t you ever get sick of leeching off others?”

  He grabbed her with both hands. She punched out, decked him with her right hand while kicking out with both legs. They both tumbled, her atop him. She straddled and punched. Left fist. Right fist. Knee to the groin.

  She fought the rage inside her when the entry opened and a brute of a man appeared, dragging her off Stan with a hard tug of her hair and another to her throat. She feigned terror even though determination drowned all other emotions except the violent anger. Hands on the floor, she coughed as the grip about her throat tightened.

  She grabbed the man’s leg, glancing where Stan was on hands and knees facing the opposite direction. Looking up with what she hoped were wide, fearful eyes, she squeezed one hand on his leg while the other with the tracker slid it into the interior of his commando boot. With all luck, the magnetic back would adhere to one of the bajillion shoelace eyes, or the zipper along the side.

  Hopefully it’d be hours before the brute discovered it, if ever. By then, Arsenal would be there.

  Please, please work. Find us.

  The man released his grip around her throat. She gasped and coughed, dragging in air as she forced her attention from the boot. Her pulse quickened as the asshole turned and left the faraday cage.

  “That was really, really stupid, Rhea,” Stan said. He rose, wiped the blood from his mouth, then spat on her. “Feel better? You just got one of them killed.”

  No. “I’m sorry.” She forced the words out as tears leaked from her eyes. “I’m sorry, Stan. You know I can’t process emotions.”

  Stan grabbed her throat. “I’ll let them live for now, even though you deserve to watch one of them die. Don’t ever cross me again, bitch. I own you for as long as I choose to let you live.”

  Rhea tugged on his wrists.

  “Tell me how you neutralized the neurotoxins in Cuba. You give me that, they won’t pay for your stupidity.”

  War is a strategic push and pull.

  Mary’s words from long ago rolled through her mind. What would Fallon and Addy do?

  They’d play the bastard’s twisted game. She needed time for the transmitter to work its magic and bring The Arsenal’s fiery wrath down on Stan’s head. Giving him the real answer would create a dangerous backlash she wasn’t sure could be contained.

  “We didn’t,” she lied. “Most of what was there wasn’t fully synthesized. We took a chance and trusted our ordnance expert to limit containment to the n
earby area. All completed batches were taken with us.”

  “You’re lying.” Stan yanked on her hair and glar down at her. Red-faced, he slapped her. “Last chance, Rhea. Tell me the truth.”

  “I’m not lying. If you don’t believe me, ask them. Or look at your drone footage. They’d show us packing up what was on the facility floor.”

  “If you’re lying, they’ll all die, Rhea.”

  “We struck before I could create a neutralizing agent. Bree and I couldn’t find a solution fast enough.”

  Stan laughed. “That’s right. You two think I’m a dumb hack, but I created the genius toxin. It’s going to make me very, very wealthy. And feared.”

  Feed his ego. Pander to his paranoia.

  “Are you sure? Mandrake doesn’t share, Stan. Neither do the Russians. Now that it’s made, what do they need you for?”

  The grip on her lessened, then tightened. “Don’t try to mindfuck me!”

  “I’m not. Look, I’m not stupid, Stan. You’re my only hope of surviving this. The Russians and Mandrake will kill me. I’m a liability to them. I’m a liability to The Arsenal too. Everyone here is.”

  “Yeah, you are. So give me the formulas. Bree’s work. HERA. Give it to me, and maybe I can let you live, Rhea.”

  “I need to think. You know I can’t think when I’m scared or too emotional. Please.”

  “I’ll be back.” He shoved her so hard her back struck the wall. She sank down and rubbed her throat. “Don’t be stupid, Rhea.”

  She was never, ever stupid. Naive? Yes. Stupid? Hell no.

  Fallon seethed. A hard jerk of the chains did little to move him. The fucking bastard had beaten her.

  “Your girl has balls,” Dallas said. “I almost missed the move, but she put the tracker on the guard, you know the one we called Asshole.”

  So far they’d counted twelve armed guards, though they were far more lethal than run-of-the-mill guns for hire. Aside from Asshole, the others kept their distance from Fallon and everyone else chained up.

  “Did you catch what she told him?” Donovan asked. “Kamren’s teaching you to lip-read, right?”

  “Yeah. I’m not great, but I think he asked about Cuba, how she neutralized the agent.” Dallas stopped. “He was going to kill one of us.”

  “She told him.” Fallon hoped to fuck she had. He didn’t want her hurt.

  “She lied, said we took it with us.”

  The door opened. Stan entered with four armed men.

  “Where’s the agent you took from Cuba? Or did you destroy it?” When no one spoke, Stan continued. “Tell me now or she dies.”

  “Bullshit. You need her alive,” Fallon said.

  “Not anymore. She’s a liability.”

  “I handed it off to Sanderson’s team,” Walker lied. “They were on chemical containment. We were facility destruction.”

  “You’re lying.”

  “You aren’t an operative. Ask any of the Mandrake people, they’d know how teams work. We’re assigned a task, one specific part of the mission. Nothing beyond that is within our scope,” Walker said.

  “Where’s Spade? Where’s that fucking traitor?” Fallon asked.

  “He’s my next visit. You’d better hope his answer matches yours, or you’re all dead—after I make you watch me bleed the bitch like the pig she is.” Stan turned and left the room.

  Son of a bitch. Unease pulsated within Fallon. If Spade gave him a straight answer, they were dead. Desperate for a resolution, he jerked hard on the ankle manacles. He’d learned a thing or two about them in prison. Even though the restraints themselves were strong, they were only as powerful as what they were mounted to.

  But chains welded to metal didn’t move.

  Fuck.

  Exhaustion plagued Zoey, but she refused to leave Operations. Rhea was out there somewhere. So was Dallas. Riley had taken control of keeping Kamren calm and focused. No news about Vi’s delivery had hit The Arsenal yet.

  “You should go eat something,” Jacob said.

  “I’m fine.” She picked up a package of Cheetos. God, it could’ve been Gage’s team taken.

  No intel indicated presence of another team in the area, but HERA’s dig into Mandrake had resulted in more questions than answers. Every reference to the organization was so heavily redacted that HERA was having a very difficult time even finding out who ran the group.

  Were they another Collective?

  Her gut pitched at the idea.

  “Hey, Z. I uhm… this is weird,” Jacob said. When she looked over at him, he continued. “I was running the dots since Ellie is at the hospital with everyone. Anyway, someone just accessed that secondary entry point you all created when you added the network to HERA. That’s still in test mode, right? I thought Quillery said it wasn’t live.”

  “It’s not.” Zoey’s gaze narrowed. “Operatives were read in and given passcodes for when we activate it, but that won’t happen until this Carlisle mess is done. Let me look.”

  Zoey redirected her view to mimic where Jacob was in HERA’s secondary system. Sure enough, a code was used to enter the system. “Fuck. Red alert, everyone. Spade’s passcode into the underground network was just used.”

  “What?” Cord loomed behind her. “Where is he?”

  “The signals being routed through hundreds of different IP addresses all across the planet. There’s some serious hacker grade quality in this.” Zoey bit her lip and got to work hacking into the system of whoever had just entered HERA. “Cord, I need you and Jacob on security sweep. We’ve gotta assume this is an SOS of some sort. Figure out what he’s trying to access and record every keystroke. Every blip.”

  “On it,” Jacob said.

  Zoey really wished Vi’s baby hadn’t chosen the middle of a crappy op to come into the world. She really needed help. “Get Mary. I need help.”

  “On it,” Jesse said, cell phone to his ear.

  Zoey hoped the WiFi at Nomad Memorial was good enough for Mary to login and help. The phone buzzed in Operations. Jesse pushed the speaker button.

  “What’s the plan?” Mary asked. “I’m in. Tell me how to help.”

  “Jacob and Cord are tracking Spade, or whoever is using his passcode. The signal’s routed through so many IP addresses and sites I’ll never track its origin.”

  “If this is Mandrake, it’s likely not originating from where they are,” Mary said. “What’s the plan?”

  “I’m sending a worm through the feed, hoping it can land in time to activate the audio of whatever computer they’re using. I’ll try video, too, but that gets a bit dicey because the file size would be much larger,” Zoey said. “I need to finish the code. Can you keep chasing the trail?”

  “On it,” Mary said.

  Computer keys clacking were the only sound other than Jesse’s pacing back and forth. Back and forth. The man had been a whirlwind since Fallon’s team disappeared. He’d established search zones based on potential target locations within a reasonable proximity.

  All Zoey knew was that The Arsenal teams that’d been in Cuba were now spread across different areas. Gage’s team was in Cuba, Levi’s was in Honduras, and Nolan’s was in Belize and making their way to Guatemala. Marshall’s remained in Florida at the ready in case Rhea and Fallon’s team were taken stateside.

  No one assumed they were stateside, but as always, The Arsenal was covering all bases.

  “I’m in,” Zoey declared, letting a moment of triumph beat out the worry she’d drowned in for too long. “I’m not sure what we’ll get from this, but it might give us an idea what the fuck is going on.”

  The audio feed crackled through the speakers. Everyone froze.

  “Look, this is the backdoor into HERA. What do you want to test?” Spade’s voice held an edge of worry, fear.

  “Access all satellites in this area, live feed. Then turn them away from our location,” a voice ordered.

  “First, I’m not a fucking hacker. I don’t know how to do that shit. Bu
t HERA knows we operatives are fucking stupid, so I can type exactly that into her and she’ll do it. Assuming I know where the fuck we are, which I don’t.” Spade’s voice rose. “And I don’t think you’re dumb enough to tell me.”

  “No. I’m not. Move. We’ll do it,” the man ordered. “Amron, type it in.”

  “Using the coordinates here?” a third voice asked.

  “No, you idiot. Something nearby, but far enough away not to be a threat in case this is bullshit,” the man ordered. “Use the burned safe house in Santa Ana.”

  “El Salvador,” Jesse growled.

  Zoey entered HERA’s real system on one station and frantically typed the orders in and fed them into the secondary system. She hoped to hell the response was fast enough to seem real-time.

  “Okay, we’re in. Shit, I didn’t know there were so many satellites down here,” the third man said.

  “They aren’t far away, likely Central America somewhere,” Cord said.

  “Refocusing on that area for the IP traces,” Mary said via speakerphone.

  “What else can this do?” the man asked.

  “Real-time facial scans are the biggest for infield work.”

  “Show me.”

  “You sure?” Spade asked. “That’d put a file in HERA’s history. We won’t have the access to scrub it out.”

  “Amron will handle it once he gets all the way in.”

  “Pfft.” Zoey shook her head. The confidence was almost funny if it weren’t such a shitty situation.

  “Okay, give me a second. I’ve gotta figure out how to use this video feed. I’ve never done it before.”

  Likely because it isn’t a real thing. Zoey frantically copied the files of HERA’s field video system into the secondary system. Mary was dumping the security access needed for all databases worldwide.

  “Okay, yeah we need the computer’s video turned on,” Spade said. “Or we could use your phone, reestablish a connection with that.”

  “Damn, he’s good,” Cord commented. “That’d give us a cell to track.”

  “No, use the computer. It’s secured,” the man ordered.

  “Wait. What’s this main screen?”