Crimson

by Jordan Summers

  Morgan brushed the hair away from Red’s face. “Are you ready?” he asked.

  “Don’t have much of a choice,” she said, smiling. “Let’s go. Nothing changes if we put this off.”

  The five of them continued on. It was easier going now that they’d left the deep sand behind. Red brushed the dust off her clothes as she scanned the fence line. The blue boundary crackled, the sound carrying on the dry desert breeze. Something flashed behind the fence.

  “Did you see that?” Red asked.

  “Yes,” Morgan said, moving closer. “Did you catch what it was, Raphael?”

  Catherine stopped, along with Melea. Raphael squinted, then drew to a halt. “It’s a laser sniper rifle. If I’m not mistaken, International Police Tactical Team issue,” he said.

  “Everybody down!” Morgan shouted.

  Red’s heart slammed painfully into her ribs. Their signal hadn’t made it. Their journey back had been for nothing. She took out a monocular and scanned the fence line. A blond head stood out from the rest.

  “Bannon,” she whispered.

  “Are you sure?” Morgan asked, scanning the horizon.

  Red lowered the monocular. “I’d know that shorn head anywhere,” she said. “It looks like he’s leading the teams.”

  “Teams?” Catherine asked. “As in plural?”

  “Yes, there are at least three of them there. And that’s just the ones I can see,” Red said.

  “What are we going to do?” Melea asked, her eyes wide with fright. She searched desperately for a place to hide.

  Red and Morgan looked at each other, then slowly nodded. “You guys are going to make your way toward the crossing. Morgan and I will turn ourselves in.”

  “No way,” Raphael said. “We didn’t walk all this way to have you imprisoned now.”

  “They don’t know about you,” Red said. “I’d like it to stay that way. There’s a tunnel off to the left. Stomp on the ground to find it. Melea, if you wait until dark, you should be able to make it across with no problem. Raphael will come and get you at midnight.”

  “I’m not waiting out here by myself,” she said. “I’m unarmed.”

  Red took her pistol out of its holster and adjusted the weapon so Melea could fire it, then handed it to her. “Now you’ll be safe.”

  “I’m not going to let you walk into a firing squad,” Raphael said. “We can’t clear your name if you’re dead.”

  Red sighed. “You said there’s a sniper rifle trained on us.”

  Raphael nodded. “There is.”

  “Then they’ve already spotted us. We could probably convince IPTT that we took you hostage,” Red said. There had to be a way to protect their friends.

  He arched a brow.

  “It’s worth a shot,” she said.

  “Not from where I’m laying,” Raphael said.

  “I hate to break up this argument,” Morgan said. “But I just spotted three tanks moving in. I believe the decision has been made for us. We’ll have to proceed before they blast us with the heat seekers.”

  “It’s me Bannon wants,” Red said. “Maybe if I turn myself in, he’ll take me and leave.”

  Morgan shot her a look that said this conversation was over.

  “Fine, have it your way,” Red said. She stood and started forward slowly.

  The closer they got to the fence the greater her dread grew. There were more than three squads lined up along the boundary fence. Bannon had brought half the teams. Roark must have really been threatened by the information they held. Too bad no one but them and Roark would ever know the truth.

  “Who is Bannon?” Raphael asked.

  “He’s a commanding officer at IPTT headquarters,” Catherine answered. “Bit of an asshole, if you ask me.”

  Red laughed. She couldn’t help it. “I see you’ve had an encounter.”

  “He was with me when I visited Roark’s office,” Catherine said. Her eyes widened a moment later as if she realized what she’d said.

  Red stopped. “And just what were you doing at Roark’s office?” she asked.

  “It’s a long story,” Raphael said. “One that perhaps is better shared later.”

  “Are you vouching for her?” Morgan asked.

  Raphael stepped forward. “I am.”

  Morgan held his gaze and the tension inside the little group rose.

  “For you, my friend, I will do this once—and once only,” Raphael said, before slowly lowering his eyes in respect for Morgan’s position as alpha.

  Morgan looked stunned. “I never thought I’d see the day,” he said.

  Raphael grinned. “I figured since we may not be alive in the very near future it was the least I could do.”

  The men laughed, sharing an easy camaraderie that Red didn’t think she’d ever witness between them.

  “Come forward with your hands up where we can see them,” Bannon shouted, shattering the moment.

  Red’s hands shook as she raised them high. Bannon shouldn’t be here, leading the teams. Her grandfather should. He was the rightful commander of IPTT.

  Bannon was a bully as a lieutenant, and she couldn’t imagine the power trip he’d be on as commander. The tactical team would lose a lot of good men and women under Bannon’s command. Red forced her feet forward. Morgan still kept his body between her and the teams, but it would do little good if Bannon ordered them to open fire.

  “Lower your weapons,” Catherine shouted. “It’s Private Catherine Meyers. Team member 11174.” She pulled out her I.D., but her hand continued to rest on her weapon.

  “I’m afraid we can’t do that, Private,” Bannon said. His face was grim as they neared the fence. “We have orders to neutralize the threat.”

  Catherine’s gaze locked on Red.

  The time to move was now. Once she’s in custody, I won’t be able to touch her. I shouldn’t have waited so long. I should have jumped at the opportunity to take Gina Santiago down when I had the chance.

  I felt panic hit. My orders were clear. I must kill her. I glanced around at the tactical team members. All eyes were upon me, waiting to see what I’d do next. They’d bear witness to my sacrifice.

  My nerves were jumping beneath my skin, caught somewhere between fight or flight. No time to back down. I was doing this for the team. My hand brushed my weapon.

  Gina stood a few feet away with her head held high. Pride radiated from her. It fueled my anger. How dare she act like she’s innocent. If she were smart, she’d have recognized the threat that has been with her all along.

  My fingers wrapped around the handle of the laser pistol. The weapon recognized my thumb print and began to charge. In a few seconds, it would be ready to fire.

  My hand trembled as I fought the urge to draw the pistol from its holster, but the compulsion to kill was too strong. It drove all logic away, leaving only savage impulses behind. Red had to die. She was ruining the tactical team, tearing apart what it stood for by creating that abomination in Nuria. Didn’t she understand that this was my home?

  There was only room for one tactical team and it had been in existence for more than a hundred years.

  Must kill her.

  She needed to get closer. I couldn’t take the chance that someone might stop me. I took a deep breath. It was now or never.

  Red’s stomach clenched as she saw Catherine grasp her laser pistol. A muscle ticced in Bannon’s jaw. She’d seen that more than a dozen times. It meant that he was furious. That didn’t bode well for them. One wrong move and he’d give the order to kill them. Red knew she needed to do something. She glanced back at Catherine. Their eyes met and Red shook her head in warning, but the private’s aggressive stance didn’t ease. If anything, it got worse. Catherine was going to get them killed.

  She walked forward briskly, keeping her arms raised. “It’s me you want,” Red said.

  “Gina, get back here.” Morgan tried to stop her.

  “I said hands in the air,” Bannon shouted.

 
Morgan stopped midmotion and raised his arms once more.

  “Gina Santiago,” Bannon yelled. “You are wanted for crimes against the republics. You will be taken into custody the second you cross the boundary fence. If you choose to run, you will be shot.” He spoke the last sentence with anticipation.

  Bannon wanted her to run. Red had no doubt that he’d take great pleasure in killing her. “I will surrender without resistance,” she said. “Let the others go.”

  “Nice try,” Bannon said. “But Morgan Hunter is also wanted. The others will be detained under the conspiracy law.”

  A dust trail rose in the distance as a vehicle approached from the north.

  The power in the fence went down. One by one, Red and her traveling companions stepped forward, only to be knocked to their knees. Power cuffs were placed on Red’s and Morgan’s wrists, then they were ordered to stand. The vehicle Red had been watching had nearly reached them. She could see now it was a turbo shuttle. IPTT rarely used them because they required so much power.

  “Roark,” she muttered. It had to be Roark.

  Bannon followed her line of sight and smirked. “Just in time.”

  “In time for what?” she asked.

  “You are a disgrace to the uniform,” Bannon hissed.

  Red flinched. “I did what I had to do in order to save my people and clear my name.”

  He snorted. “Your name will never be clear.” Bannon’s large hands closed around her throat and began to squeeze. “Must stop you,” he said.

  “What are you doing?” Red kicked out, connecting with his groin, but all it did was make him more determined. Spots swam before her eyes and the world turned scarlet. She gasped, but no air came in. “Bannon stop.”

  She could hear Catherine and Morgan struggling beside her, but someone was holding them down. “Why are you doing this?” She choked.

  His blue eyes were wild and glassy. He was looking at her, but Red didn’t think he could see her. “Why won’t you die?” Bannon shouted.

  “Stop . . .” Red gurgled as she tried to breathe. Her vision dimmed.

  “That’s enough, Lieutenant. Stand down,” a baritone voice boomed from behind Bannon’s broad shoulders.

  He ignored the order.

  Red recognized that voice, but even as the thought passed through her mind, she knew it wasn’t possible. She must be dying. For that voice had been taken from her in two deafening shots. Bannon turned, giving her a clear view of the approaching tactical team member.

  “Let her go or we’ll be forced to open fire,” the man said.

  “No,” Bannon bellowed, squeezing tighter. “You can’t stop me. My orders are clear. I’m protecting IPTT.”

  A flash from a laser blast nearly blinded her. Red felt Bannon’s grip ease. She coughed, then blinked several times forcing her eyes to focus. A gaping hole smoldered where Bannon’s abdomen used to be. He tumbled, landing beside her. Red turned in time to see Melea lower the weapon she’d given her, a power cuff hung from one of her wrists.

  Shaking, the woman dropped the gun on the ground and slowly raised her hands. “He was going to kill you,” she said. Her dark eyes were haunted by the violence she’d been forced to commit.

  “Thank you,” Red said as Melea started to cry.

  The tactical team members raised their weapons.

  “I said stand down. That’s an order.”

  “Grandpa?” Red asked. She blinked as tears filled her eyes. “Is it really you?” She had to be dead. Either that or she was seeing a ghost.

  Robert Santiago rushed forward and pulled her into his arms.

  The hug felt real. Red inhaled, taking in the slightly musty odor that clung to her grandfather from handling his book collection. “I can’t believe it. You were dead. I heard the shots. I’ll never forget that sound of you gasping for breath,” she said, tears streamed down her face.

  “I know” he said, trying to push her back so he could look at her. “We found the body of an unknown and the recordings when we searched Roark’s office. The audio reproduction was very convincing. It took the tech people a couple of days to figure out he’d hijacked our security feed so he could record my voice. From there it was a matter of editing the right phrases together.”

  Red burrowed deeper. She didn’t allow the power cuffs to stop her. She snuggled into his shirt, breathing in his scent, savoring it. Robert Santiago gave up trying to move her and glanced over her shoulder at Morgan Hunter.

  “What in the hell was going on here?” he asked. “Why was Bannon choking Gina?”

  Morgan’s jaw was covered in a short beard and his hair had grown to the middle of his shoulders. If it wasn’t for his eyes, Robert wouldn’t have recognized him.

  “He was trying to kill her,” he said.

  “So I saw,” Robert scowled. “But why?”

  Morgan shifted, his gaze growing wary. “I don’t know, but I’m sure Roark has something to do with it. He always does.”

  He snorted. “That’s ridiculous. Bannon lives and breaths IPTT.” Robert glanced down. “At least he did.”

  “Do you have a better idea?” Morgan asked.

  Robert brushed his granddaughter’s back with his palm and said nothing.

  “I didn’t think so.” Morgan dropped his gaze.

  Robert looked at the fragile young woman who’d shot Bannon. Her eyes were round with fright and she couldn’t seem to stop trembling. He’d considered charging her, but that was before he got a good look at her. There’d been no malicious intent in her expression, only fear for one woman from another . . . who’d seen far too much violence in her short lifetime.

  “We tried to send out a message that could prove our innocence, but I see now it didn’t reach you,” Gina said, looking around at the teams.

  “Nonsense.” The commander kissed her forehead. “Why do you think we’re here?”

  “But I thought . . .” her voice trailed off as she held up her cuffed hands. “Bannon said . . .”

  Robert Santiago’s gaze shot to Bannon Richards’ body. “I don’t know what got into Richards. He asked to lead the team. I didn’t see a problem with it given his rank. I had no idea it was so he could get his hands on you. I’m so sorry, Gina.”

  “It’s not your fault. It was like he was possessed,” she said.

  “I’ll have the dissecting lab run tests on his body to figure out why. I’m not sure what he said to you, but we’re here because we received your broadcast. The republic leaders asked IPTT to personally meet you and escort you in without further incident.”

  Gina’s brow creased and she shook her head. “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying that everyone heard Roark put that hit out on you. They heard it from you and from your navcom, Rita. We were able to piece together the recording you made in the shuttle. Even without your evidence, we had enough to go to the republic leaders. They are holding an emergency tribunal about Roark’s actions and the discovery of the Others. You are both expected to stand before them and tell your side of the story. They are eager to listen.”

  Red looked over her shoulder at Morgan, who wasn’t smiling. “It’s going to be okay,” he said, even though his expression said otherwise.

  She heard the words, but still couldn’t believe it. The message had gotten out. Somehow the broken navcoms had come through for them. She choked and began to cry harder, this time with happiness. This whole ordeal was over. They’d done it. They had beaten Roark.

  “What about Montgomery?” she asked, remembering the election. “Did he win?”

  “Yes,” Robert said.

  Red deflated a little.

  Her grandfather’s expression clouded and his dark eyes glittered with anger. “Don’t worry. We’ll find him.”

  “What do you mean, you’ll find him?” Red asked.

  “He won the election,” Robert said. “But before he could celebrate his victory, your broadcast went out around the world. He knew I planned to send someone for him.
I’d already informed him of the physical evidence I had against him,” he said.

  “What evidence?” Red asked, more confused than ever.

  “Thanks to Private Meyers, we were able to examine the shuttle Roark claimed was attacked by Morgan. She found it hidden in the sand.”

  Red turned to Catherine. “I guess I owe you an apology,” she said.

  Catherine shook her head. “No, you don’t. I didn’t exactly come after you out of the goodness of my heart.” Her gaze strayed to Raphael, then to the commander.

  Red arched a brow, but Catherine didn’t elaborate.

  “I gave her permission to find you,” Robert said. “I needed to know you were okay. Not that I didn’t trust Morgan to take care of you, but I wanted to know firsthand that my special one was all right.”

  Red smiled. “Thank you,” she said. “Thank you both.” She nodded to Catherine, who responded in kind. “So do you have any idea where Roark might have fled?”

  Robert shook his head and a shock of white hair fell onto his forehead. “No, we’ve checked his office and his home. We even found that cell under his building. Nasty place.”

  “Yeah, I know,” Red said. “Morgan and I received a private tour.”

  Her grandfather’s gaze searched her face. “You’re safe,” he said more to himself than to her.

  “So what happens now?” Red asked, glancing once more at the teams.

  “We have to take you in. Don’t want it to look like we do not follow protocol. You’ll be processed and held at IPTT. You won’t be kept in a cell, but your rooms will be guarded. In two days’ time, you’ll meet with the republic leaders. From there,” he said, “it’s only a matter of e-filings.”

  Red still couldn’t believe it. They’d traveled so far. Lost so much. And now it was almost over. She thought about Demery and Michael as they were loaded into her grandfather’s transport. Robert Santiago sat on her left and Morgan sat on her right. There was a low hum as the maglev shuttle started rising slowly off the ground.

  “Where do you think he’s hiding?” she asked, her voice so low that only Raphael and Morgan could hear her.

  Morgan shook his head. “Don’t know. He could be anywhere. Someone might even be hiding him. He has a lot of allies.”