Impact Zone

by Cara Carnes

  “They’ll find us,” Dallas said. “Hell of a risk you took.”

  “I should’ve protected Doc better. I didn’t think he’d move without his men. I thought she’d be safe until I got you all unchained. She was freaking out so bad I was afraid the bastard would shoot her.”

  “You did good,” Sanchez said.

  “You did,” Fallon said even though his insides clenched. Rhea was out there alone with an asshole. He coughed. “Let’s get out, then find Doc.”

  “Fuck,” Dallas spat.

  “What?” Fallon asked.

  “Gunfire. All hell’s breaking loose outside. It’d died down earlier. I’m thinking we’ve got more assholes outside,” the man said. “Not eating a bullet in this shithole. Let’s be ready.”

  Walker was halfway up the heated corner of the cage when a loud boom sounded from the left wall. Light fractured the area as a tract of the metal fell. Armed combatants entered, weapons trained on them. Fallon counted at least a dozen heavily armed operatives, but he suspected there were more outside. Masks covered their faces, but their armor bore the same distinctive emblem as the trained assholes who’d imprisoned them.

  Mandrake.

  “Fuck, we’ve got at least two dozen of them,” Dallas said.

  “Hands up!” one of them shouted. “Bravo Four, get him down from there.”

  “On it,” one of the others said as he ran over and hauled Walker down to the ground.

  “We’ve got company inbound!” someone shouted from the other side of the cage.

  “Get them secured. We move out in two minutes.” The leader snagged Fallon. “Stay quiet, behave, and you live. For now. Piss me off and I kill you now. Bravo Two, call the other teams, get their asses here. Now!”

  “How many teams would The Arsenal have in the vicinity for you?” The man’s voice thundered in the area.

  Fallon laughed. He was afraid. Good. That meant help was close. All Fallon had to do was bide his time.

  “Everyone,” Dallas replied. “And then some.”

  “What the fuck does that mean?”

  “You aren’t fighting just The Arsenal. You’re against the Quillery Edge. They’re about to unleash hell on your stupid asses,” Sanchez said.

  “Which of you was the leader?” the man demanded.

  No one replied. Fallon doubted there was time for the man to push for an answer. The silence ticked by a few beats before the man cursed.

  “Get them on the chopper. We’ll get answers later.”

  “Chopper’s gone,” one of the men said.

  “Come again?”

  “One of Carlisle’s men was in the jungle, struck with an RPG. It’s gone.”

  “You sure it was one of Carlisle’s?” The man looked back at his men. “What the fuck went down here?”

  “Not sure, but Carlisle’s dead in the other faraday cage,” one of the men replied. “The woman’s gone.”

  “Fuck. Move out.”

  “The injured?” someone asked.

  “Drag them out, leave them in the open. They aren’t our problem.”

  Fallon breathed a sigh of relief. If they were out of the smoky, burning remains, they’d stand a chance, especially if an Arsenal team was nearby. Pain coursed along his entire body as the men led them outside.

  A brief visual scan of the area signaled at least twenty armed men. Remnants from the first group must’ve survived the blast. He listened as someone radioed for another two choppers.

  “It’s gonna be sunrise tomorrow before they can come,” one of the men said.

  “Unacceptable. Tell them to get here. Now!”

  Fallon took a deep breath when they exited the building. Wilderness greeted them. Fires simmered from one side of the building. Smoke billowed into the sky, rising well above the forest’s canopy. He almost laughed, but suppressed the urge.

  No way in hell The Arsenal wouldn’t see the mess.

  Darkness blanketed the area where Fallon and his team had been secured. Mandrake operatives stood guard on both sides of where they’d been tied in a circle, their backs to one another. Gags cut off their communication between each other.

  Rhea.

  She’d remained at the forefront of his mind. Where was she? Was she safe?

  He hoped The Arsenal focused on finding her first.

  Or Donovan and the other operatives left at the facility. Were they okay?

  Fuck. When had he become one of those team leaders who worried about everyone in their charge? Truth told, he’d likely always been one, but Rhea made him want to be a better man. A better leader.

  Dallas froze beside him. His gaze widened as the man motioned with his head to the area directly in front of them. What had he heard?

  Fallon’s hearing had been alternating between decent and shitty. Logan was going to have his ass when they got back to The Arsenal compound. Unsure what he’d missed, he nudged Sanchez on his other side, motioned toward the area. The message got around the makeshift circle quickly.

  A fire burned on the other side of the small encampment, where most of the combatants ate from MREs. No one appeared relaxed, though. Everyone wore their weapons, kept their head on a proverbial swivel—where they remained fully alert of their surroundings.

  Fallon would almost admire Mandrake and their operatives if they weren’t crazy psychos who’d taken them hostage. The dirt between Fallon’s legs moved.

  What the fuck?

  Dallas laughed against his gag.

  Yeah, really funny. He wasn’t about to get eaten by some tropical snake before rescue. Jesus. He’d never been a fan of deserts because he’d been there too many times, had killed so many he’d lost track of the count years ago. Forests and wildernesses were rarer.

  Freakier.

  An eerie silence descended around them. He’d listened to the birds and wildlife for so long he missed their concert. Concert. The word reminded him of Rhea and her “focus” music that was forest sounds and running water.

  The dirt moved again. Something latched on to his bare leg. He looked down and sagged in relief as a drone crawled up his inner calf and up his thigh before it disappeared behind his body. Across his wrists.

  Blood surged to the area the moment the plastic restraints were cut. In reality, they could’ve gotten out of them if they’d had a plan formed for afterward. Someone was out there, ready to strike, and they wanted Fallon and everyone around him ready.

  Adrenaline surged, his heartbeat quickened. He scanned what he could of the area, forcing his body to remain still as the drone returned, crawled down his leg once more and sank back into the earth at his feet.

  Raised voices from the primary encampment fractured the silence. The guards around them trained their weapons on Fallon and the others, but smoke billowed around them as a smoke grenade detonated.

  No.

  A sleeper grenade—one of Bree’s new weapons.

  Fallon held his breath as gunfire erupted. Dallas grabbed his arm and motioned toward the thick forest to their right. He followed the man. Sanchez, Walker, and Spade were behind Fallon.

  “Stay down. I’ll be back,” someone said as they charged into the area they’d left.

  “Nolan’s team,” Dallas offered as he crouched.

  “We need weapons so we can fight,” Walker said.

  “No.” Dallas pointed at the clearing where drones were whizzing around. “We aren’t marked on their target zone. We’d get in the way.”

  Fallon understood. “We’re also weaker than fuck.”

  Bodies filled the area. None of the Mandrake operatives moved by the time the drones settled on the ground near where Fallon and his team had been held. The Arsenal team removed their masks and pulled their headgear up.

  Nolan grinned when Fallon and Dallas entered the clearing. “Fuck, brother. Good to see you.”

  The two hugged a moment. The elder Mason pulled back. His gaze scanned everyone, but he said nothing as his team arrived.

  “Clear,” Jase,
Nolan’s second-in-command, said.

  “Kellen, get them stabilized,” Nolan ordered. “Makale, clothes and weapons. Moore, you and Rohon are on perimeter. Round up the drones, snag what we need from their supplies. We’re moving as soon as Kellen green lights our guys.”

  Moore, Rohon, and Makale broke off, headed to the bodies sprawled across the way. Wilderness shopping, Arsenal style.

  “Donovan and the three other operatives are back at the facility,” Fallon said. “We’ve gotta get them.”

  “They’re secure,” Nolan said.

  “Rhea. Tyrell snagged her before the explosion. He killed Carlisle,” Spade said.

  Nolan grinned. “Heard about your little side op. Slick. Hell of a big risk.”

  “Didn’t expect it to go sideways. I wanted in Mandrake, deep cover. Figured we’d learn more from the inside,” the man said. “Swear I didn’t think the bastard would take off with her, not without his men.”

  “We’ll get her back,” Sanchez said. “How can we help?”

  “Let Kellen look you over, patch you up. Then we’ll strike out. We’ve got a lot of Mandrake clusters between us and Rhea’s tracker. Or trackers, plural. We’ve got two.”

  “She tagged one of Carlisle’s assholes with one,” Fallon said. “Got beaten for it.”

  “We’ll have a team on that tracker, but the focus will be on securing her based on the tracker inside her,” Jase said.

  He fisted his hands and locked gazes with Nolan. He didn’t know the man well, but he saw the determination in his gaze.

  “We’re getting her back. Zoey and Mary intercepted Mandrake chatter about an hour ago. They’ve got ten teams in the area hunting for her,” Jase said.

  Fuck.

  “Levi’s and Gage’s teams are on takedown. That frees us and Marshall’s on the trackers.” Nolan touched Fallon’s shoulder. “We’ll get her back.”

  20

  When Rhea got out of this mess, she was going to learn a few things.

  First, how to survive in the wilderness. She’d wait on a lesson until Kamren had her baby, but she was not going to find her ass unprepared in a rainforest ever again. Rhea crouched near where she’d set up large leaves to capture water from the forest canopy.

  She sipped from a leaf. The small bits of water weren’t nearly enough, but better than nothing. She figured she earned bonus points for taking the time to grab a machete.

  Too damn bad she hadn’t found a dang cell phone.

  They’ll find you. Just stay strong, stay focused. You’ve got this.

  Her blisters had blisters, thanks to the too-big boots. Sure, she’d stuffed them with socks, but her feet still moved around and rubbed, which was why she’d finally risked hunkering down in one place. Common sense dictated she hole up somewhere and hope to hell The Arsenal found her before the other assholes in the forest did.

  She had more than one close call—the last had ended with her almost getting shot. Her left arm throbbed where she’d been grazed. Blood coated the machete. She wasn’t a knife-wielding ninja like Kamren, but she’d gotten away and hit one of the Mandrake operatives who’d grabbed her.

  Now that her adrenaline was gone, Rhea was left alone with the sounds of the forest around her. Sitting against a tree, arms wrapped around her legs, she squeezed her eyes shut and prayed Fallon was okay. Her mind had rerun the explosion hundreds of times despite her attempt to not think about it.

  The faraday cage was metal, which meant it was very, very strong.

  Maybe it’d survived the explosion.

  Which meant there was a chance he and the others were okay.

  She kept her mind on the nugget of hope. It kept her sane and moving forward.

  Rustling behind her quickened her pulse. Machete in her hand, she vaulted up, turning in a full circle. Movement to her left made her scream. Two large men appeared, wearing all black gear and face masks. A second scream ripped from her throat as she ran the other direction, but another two appeared.

  No. No.

  Fight.

  She lunged, swiping in a wide arc with the machete. “Leave me alone!”

  “Not happening, bitch. You’ve cost us a lot of time and money,” one of the men said. “Put that down before you hurt yourself.”

  “Stay back or I’ll kill you.” Her heart thudded hard in her chest.

  Whomp. Whomp. Whomp.

  No.

  A chopper sounded in the distance.

  “You called it in already?” one of the men asked.

  “No. That’s not us.”

  Yes! Rhea clung to the sound.

  Whomp. Whomp. Whomp.

  “Grab the bitch. Let’s bail.”

  “No! Help! I’m here! I’m here!”

  One of the men pulled out a syringe. Oh, hell no. Rhea fought when they grabbed her again. She kicked and scratched. Pain erupted at her neck. Her vision distorted. Mind blurry, she continued the terrified screams rolling from her. She kicked and punched at the arms wrapped around her.

  “How long does that shit take to work?” The man behind her growled the inquiry. “Fucking bitch! Shut up.”

  Whomp. Whomp. Whomp.

  Whomp. Whomp. Whomp.

  Nausea pitched her stomach as her vision blurred more. A weighty sensation lumbered her movements. Gunfire erupted around her, loud blasts that made her ears hurt.

  Whomp. Whomp. Whomp.

  Wind stirred around her. Leaves, dirt, and forest debris rose as a bright light punctured the darkness. The arms around her disappeared. The four black-clad men fired above.

  Gunfire.

  Whomp. Whomp. Whomp.

  Rhea clung to the sound. Collapsed on the ground, unable to move, she blinked, listened.

  Prayed.

  She was lifted. Someone ran with her in their arms.

  Whomp. Whomp. Whomp.

  A scream perched in her throat, but she couldn’t move. Couldn’t scream or swallow.

  Confusion slowed her thoughts. Voices sounded around her.

  “Go!” the man who held her shouted.

  Whomp. Whomp. Whomp.

  “She hit?” another man asked.

  “Not sure. There’s something sticking out of her neck,” the man said.

  Drugged. Of course. Rhea caught glimpses of the two men as the ground beneath her rose.

  No. Not ground.

  A chopper.

  Whomp. Whomp. Whomp.

  They weren’t Arsenal. She tried to kick and fight, but her limbs refused to move. What had she been hit with? Was the drug going to kill her? Fear clawed up her throat.

  Breathe.

  “She’s damn near a heart attack.” The man looked down at her. “You’re okay. We’re going to get you some help.”

  No. She wanted The Arsenal. Who were these guys? More Mandrake? A different black ops group? Stan’s goons?

  “Get her a headset,” the other man said. “You need to talk to her. Calm her down.”

  One of the men put a headset on her. She stared at the ceiling of the chopper, unsure how to convey what little her brain processed.

  A voice sounded in her ears. “Rhea. I’m Lexi, Levi’s sister. You’re safe. We’re taking you home.”

  Her eyes burned. She blinked the tears away. No home. No home without Fallon.

  Eyes closed, she focused on the sounds around her.

  Whomp. Whomp. Whomp.

  Fallon ran into Medical. Labored breaths filled his ears. Footsteps sounded behind him, but he didn’t give a damn who had kept up with his mad dash to Medical.

  “Rhea.” He growled the word the moment Logan appeared.

  “She’s sedated.” Logan put a hand on his chest. “Sit down, Fallon. Fuck, what’d you do? Dive from the plane before it landed?”

  “Almost,” Nolan commented beside him. “He’s gotta see her, man. Even if she’s sedated.”

  Fallon still wasn’t sure how she’d arrived at The Arsenal without a team. All he knew was Levi’s sister, Lexi, had found her. She and tw
o of her team who’d agreed to help had arrived at Rhea’s transmitted location before any Arsenal team.

  They’d taken out the assholes who’d gotten Rhea.

  They’d gotten her home.

  “She was drugged with a neurotoxin of some sort,” Logan said. “It should work its way out of her system, but until it does, I sedated her. Her heart rate was extremely erratic.”

  Fuck.

  “Was sedation safe with the neurotoxin?” Nolan asked.

  “I had no choice,” Logan admitted. Grim expression on his face, he looked at Fallon. “Come on. I’ll take you back to her. Then I’ll get you checked out.”

  “Donovan? The others injured?” Fallon asked.

  “They’re stable. Donovan needs surgery on his leg. It shattered in several locations,” Logan said. “He’s in San Antonio. A colleague of mine will do the operation. She’s the same one who worked on Mary.”

  Fallon grunted as he followed the doctor to the farthest end of the hall and entered.

  Monitors beeped and buzzed around her. Tubes stuck out of both her arms. In her nose. His hand trembled when he reached out, stroking her matted hair. Bruises and abrasions marred her face along her eyes and mouth. Her cheek.

  “Sit.” Nolan shoved him into a chair. “You aren’t gonna get him to sit through an examination anywhere but here.”

  “Figured as much. How bad’s the hearing right now?”

  “Worse than normal, but I can hear.” Barely out of one ear, worse in his good ear. None of that mattered right now.

  “Should’ve realized you had hearing damage. Most seasoned ordnance folks do,” Nolan said as he sat in a seat across from the bed.

  Fallon took Rhea’s hand. “How long until she wakes?”

  “That’ll depend on her, how long it takes the toxin to clear her system,” Logan said. “You need to clean up, let me tend your injuries now so you’re here when she does.”

  “Rhea!” Bree screamed the woman’s name as she ran into the room.

  Fallon turned, stood. The blonde powered into him. Tears streamed down the woman’s face. “You’re okay. She’s okay.”