There was nothing different he could have done, but shit, their position had been given away. No point in going for stealth now—they needed to lose themselves in the early bustle of people going about their business in the village.
“Make a break for it!”
He waited a beat to make sure every member of his team was ahead of him, especially Bren with her injured ankle, and then brought up the rear as they made a run on the village.
Just as they broke the tree line, more CS soldiers appeared, cutting them off mere seconds before they would have made the safety of the houses.
They closed ranks, weapons pointed outward as the eight soldiers surrounded them, aiming old-fashioned guns with bullets at them.
“What have we got here?” A man stepped forward, not carrying a gun, but a whip of all the damned things.
“Well, isn’t this my lucky day,” Seb announced as the man, who was clearly some kind of senior officer, stopped in front of them. “I don’t like owing a debt, and it looks like I’m about to settle up.”
The man’s brow creased in a condescending manner as he raked a dismissive gaze over Seb. “Do I know you?”
Seb gave a harsh laugh. “You don’t remember ordering your patrol to beat the shit out of a man minding his own business? In front of his pregnant wife, no less? Come on, buddy. It was only a few weeks ago. Just how many people have you gotten your men to beat up for you in that time?”
Cam risked cutting a glance at Seb, no idea what the hell he was talking about. He wasn’t married, let alone hitched with a baby on the way. Had that been part of his cover when he and Jenna had infiltrated enemy territory about a month ago? Sounded damn crazy.
The man’s nostril’s flared. “So you went out and joined the rebels? Seems you didn’t learn your lesson, boy.”
A small swell of relief flowed through Cam. If this guy thought they were rebels, that was marginally better than them realizing they were UEF.
“Oh, I learned a lesson, all right.” Seb spat on the ground at the man’s feet. “I learned how to spot a coward. Going to stand by while your men do your dirty work again for you today?”
Tension and unease rippled through the soldiers surrounding them, but his team remained still, calm like the eye at the center of the storm.
The leader started to raise his hand, clenching the whip. It was just a twitch, really, but it was enough. Seb lunged forward, slamming the butt of his gun down on the man’s arm, causing him to drop the whip.
Cam went for the soldier closest to him in a few short but effective moves, getting him in a headlock with his pistol pressed to the man’s temple.
Seb had put down their leader in the seconds of mayhem. He was lying either dead or unconscious, and most definitely bleeding from a head wound. Cam’s men had disarmed several others, leaving the remaining ones lowering their weapons with indecision.
“Anyone else want to throw down?” Cam asked, casting a hard look around the group.
No one said anything, but the soldiers who weren’t pinned scattered in all directions, fleeing into the woods. They let go of the ones they were holding, but didn’t give them back their weapons.
After the area was cleared, Seb turned and gave everything he had into hooking a boot into the prone leader. “Gutless piece of shit.”
Cam gave half a thought to intervening. It was one thing to beat down the enemy, but laying into him when he was already out crossed a line. Except Seb seemed done. He went over to Bren and clapped her on the shoulder.
“Nice shooting back there. You saved my ass.”
Bren had been the one to take out the first CS soldier? He’d assumed it’d been Harlow, who was a freakishly fast shot. But if she’d beat him to the line, then she had to be good. Damn good.
“Yeah, well, I didn’t want to have to explain to Jenna once I got back to the Knox how you ended up bleeding and full of holes,” Bren returned with a relieved smile. “Don’t think she would have taken it very well.”
“No, she sure as hell wouldn’t have.” Seb pulled her in for a quick hug. It wasn’t a buddy-buddy hug like guys or fellow soldiers usually shared. There was a little more to it.
And it made a heaviness land in his guts, though he had absolutely no idea why. Seb was head over heels in love with his tough CI agent girlfriend, but Cam couldn’t help wondering if Bren and Seb had history. The kind of history that usually made a mess out of friendships and working relationships. Not that it seemed either had that kind of baggage between them. And not that it was any of his damned business. But curiosity—an uncomfortable curiosity—was getting the better of him.
“We better get out of here before that dick wakes up, or they send reinforcements.”
He was going to ignore the way Bren and Seb were smiling at each other as his men collected the discarded guns, secured, and disarmed them, before they resumed their trek into the village.
They’d gotten lucky. If any of the CS soldiers who ran off blabbed—actually, no if about it—at least what had happened here would be blamed on the rebels, because the CSS had no idea the UEF had infiltrated so far into their territory. With everything that had happened in the last six months, all the moles and double agents they’d found in their own ranks, it was about time they gave the CSS some of their own medicine to choke on.
Now all they had to do was find and contact the actual rebels. At least they could come bearing a few gifts with the guns they’d taken off that CSS patrol.
Chapter Seven
They stopped again not far into the village. The sun had topped the horizon, and people were beginning to leave their houses.
Bren kept a tight grip on her weapon, not because she thought she might need to use it, but so the others didn’t notice how her hands were shaking after shooting that CS soldier back in the woods.
She didn’t regret it—he would have blasted Seb at point-blank range if she hadn’t acted first—but she was a little unsteady. Sure, she’d long come to terms with the fact that she’d directly and indirectly killed people in her fighter jet over the years, but she’d never looked another person in the face and made the decision to take their life in the blink of an eye. Watched them fall to the ground and breathe their last.
This was war. These choices had to be made every moment. And if someone had to die, then she’d much rather it be a stranger who’d taken up arms against the UEF than Seb, or herself, or anyone else she cared about.
But that was the point, wasn’t it? This was the senselessness of war. The man she’d killed hadn’t started this fight. He was acting on behalf of someone else who’d probably spent his life sitting safe in his office or home, never experiencing the decisions he’d made firsthand. Letting other innocent people die on his behalf. No one should have to die just because some lunatic had been given too much power and turned this once peaceful planet into a dictatorship.
Which was why so much hinged on this mission for McAllister. If he could get the rebels on his side, it could be the turning point in this conflict. Bren respected that, but her concern had to be focused on her fighter pilot who was out there, alone, relying on Seb and her to rescue her. With every hour that went by, the weight of Shen’s fate settled more heavily on her shoulders.
Seb shifted over to McAllister, where he was surveying the busier street beyond the alley they’d stopped in.
“I know you want to meet my contact,” Seb said, gaining the colonel’s attention. “I think I should go alone first.”
McAllister started to argue, but Seb held up a hand. “Halden has a wife and daughter. That patrol we ran across this morning was obviously looking for rebels. How many CS soldiers did we let go thinking that’s who we were? If we all march up to Halden’s house, it’s going to put him and his family in danger. Let me talk to him first, see if he can put me in contact with someone more deeply entrenched in the rebel organization.”
McAllister stared at him, obviously weighing up his options. “This is a huge risk, Seb. You
won’t have anyone to back you up if things go bad.”
“I know.” Seb set his shoulders, looking completely confident. “But I trust Halden, and I knew what I signed on for when I agreed to come on this mission.”
McAllister cast a quick look over the rest of them, ending on her and lingering for a moment. Just as she’d feared, the remnants of the dream, and sensory recall of his arms around her surfaced, leaving her breath catching.
So stupid.
“Okay. While you’re doing that, we’ll create a distraction so everyone knows the ‘rebels’ were elsewhere while you’re speaking with your contact. There’s a bakery and alehouse on the western side of the town square. We’ll park ourselves there for breakfast.”
Seb sent him a worried look. “Won’t that be dangerous? I’d appreciate it if I could get back to the Knox with all my limbs and important appendages attached.”
“It’s a gamble. The villagers could call the nearest CSS outpost and report us as rebels just as easily as they could turn a blind eye. Everything we do on this side of the battle lines is a calculated risk. This one will give you the best chance of achieving our ends.” McAllister’s expression took on an exasperated edge. “And for the record, I don’t want anything to do with your important appendages, Rayne.”
Seb grinned as he backed up a few steps. “Hey, I’m just trying to avoid the wrath of Jenna. It’s nice having someone worry about your important appendages. You should try it sometime.”
“Not a chance in hell.” McAllister sent Seb a smooth smile that was all charm and amusement—a complete change to the usual serious expression he’d maintained in the last days. One that made his rugged, square features downright handsome. It was one of those smiles that made everyone else want to smile.
Without the filter of hurt and anger she’d always viewed him through, that smile—even though she’d probably seen it before—was making her quiver inside.
Maybe it was the close quarters or the stress of constantly being on edge behind enemy lines, but her head was spinning from the fact she’d gone from loathing him to the complete, extreme opposite in a few short days. She had to rein in her unstable emotions because letting them distract her could mean the difference between life and death while they were in enemy territory.
Seb concealed his weapons under his jacket and told them all he’d RV—rendezvous—with them later. He stepped out into the street and disappeared.
They waited in silence for at least ten minutes before McAllister gave the order to move out. This time as they walked, they were even more on guard than they’d been through the entire hike the day before. Her pulse had ticked up, and she was taking in every little detail she could, looking for any sign of danger.
The enemy could be here, but at least if the CS soldiers thought they were rebels, they were less likely to be immediately killed or sent to a reeducation camp.
However, it wasn’t only CS soldiers they needed to be wary of. The townspeople could just as easily turn on them.
People took notice of them, but from the way they quickly turned their gazes and went about their business, she had to guess this wasn’t the first time a group of rebels had passed through.
They made it to the public house that served as a bakery and supplier of fresh game meat and produce in the morning, but then became the local alehouse later in the afternoon.
McAllister picked a long rough-hewn wooden table inside, closest to the doors, and the man who came over to ask for their orders greeted them cordially.
The colonel didn’t bother asking what anyone wanted, just ordered fresh bread rolls, eggs, and the local strong, caffeine-laden tea that passed for coffee in the poorest villages.
None of them tried making much in the way of conversation as they waited for the food and Seb’s return. They were all on edge, aware of the people sitting at nearby tables or coming and going, any of whom might cause them trouble. This was risky, but covering Seb’s visit to Halden’s house was more important.
The food came before Seb did. She wasn’t worried about him, he could definitely handle himself, but she hoped he came back sooner rather than later. One missing fighter pilot was more than enough.
She picked at a bread roll, shaking her head when Bartlet offered her a tea. A couple of people sat at the table next to them with glasses of freshly squeezed orange juice, leaving her mouth watering. Oh man, she needed that juice, and she needed it now.
Glancing at McAllister, she subtly pointed to the other table. “I want to get some juice. Do you mind?”
“Go ahead.”
She thanked him and asked if anyone else wanted any, but they all seemed satisfied with the tea.
The counter serving food was down a short corridor in another room, as if this building had once been a house converted into a business. There were a few chairs and tables in this room—most of them occupied with people eating—and a long bench along the opposite end of the space that was stacked with all kinds of fresh foods.
A woman around her age served people at the end of the counter, a boy who could have been eight or nine beside her, counted money and handed over change as people paid.
The woman was a little wary of her, but no less friendly as they took her order. While she waited for them to get the juice, she walked along the counter, examining the produce for sale. In some ways—the simple ways—these people lived a better life. Before the war, decades ago, Ilari had been a peaceful, prosperous destination for those who wanted to get back to basics.
“I’m telling you, the wreckage had identification markings of the UEF military.”
The low but heated words from somewhere behind Bren pulled her to a stop, ears straining to catch the rest of the conversation.
“Why would a UEF ship fly so far past the battle lines? It was probably just another CSS ship that had engine troubles,” someone else answered.
“You don’t believe me, go see for yourself. I know what I saw, and it was definitely a UEF jet. The CSS must have shot it down.”
Unable to help herself any longer, she turned to find two men who would have been in their fifties talking over a pot of tea. Her pulse sped up. This was the clue she’d needed—her reason for coming on this mission. Maybe she should have simply loitered a little longer and gathered whatever information she could from eavesdropping, but she had too many questions that needed answering and the window of time to rescue Shen was rapidly getting smaller.
So, she took a quick breath and then sat herself down at the table. The two men cast her a startled look, and like everyone else in the town, obviously came to the conclusion that she was with the rebels.
“We’re not interested in being recruited,” one of the men said, pushing his chair back like he was about to get up and walk off.
“No, wait. That’s not why I want to talk to you.”
The man paused, but remained on the edge of his seat like he was ready to flee at the first hint of trouble.
“I need to know what you saw. The wreckage of the ship?”
The two men exchanged worried glances, neither of them looking like they were going to be all that forthcoming.
She leaned forward, about ready to beg if she had to. “Please. I don’t need to know who you are, and no one will ever find out I got any information from you. I just need you to tell me where you saw the wreckage.”
The man who hadn’t moved shrugged at his companion, as if to say what have we got to lose? then turned his attention to her.
“About ten miles east of here, there’s an abandoned farm, used to belong to the Pruitt’s before all their sons died in the war. In their back forty, the river runs through and there’s a good fishing spot. That’s where I saw the wreckage from a distance. The CSS were crawling all over it, so I didn’t go any closer, and I didn’t go fishing. I came back to the village.”
“Did you see any sign of the pilot?”
The man started to shake his head, but then he looked past her, and up; his expressi
on shuttering like a window boarded against a storm.
“Excuse us.” The man quickly got up from his seat, followed by his friend, both of them hurrying away.
One guess as to what—or should she say who—had caused that reaction. Weird, but she could sense him standing a few steps behind her.
“Was that really necessary?” She twisted in her seat to face McAllister, where he stood glaring at her with his arms crossed.
“A word. Outside.” His teeth were clenched tight, muscle in his jaw pulsing.
He didn’t wait for her to agree or even stand, but turned on his heel and marched away like he was on a parade ground.
Why the heck was he so damned angry? She sighed as she pushed to her feet and followed, but instead of going through to the front room where the others were sitting at the table, he detoured down a short hallway and went through a door that opened into the alley that ran along the side of the shop.
She glanced around as she stopped in front of him, unsurprised to find they were alone.
“What was that?” he demanded before she could ask what this was all about.
Okay, had she missed something here? Or was she having a blond moment for the first time in her life? Because she couldn’t work out what he was so pissed about.
“Can you clarify, sir?” She tried not to let any heat creep into her voice, but wasn’t all that successful.
His expression took on an edge of incredulity. “When I agreed to let you tag along on this mission, I assumed you understood what black-ops meant.”
She crossed her arms, not liking where this was going, but seeing no way out of the conversation. Sure, she could walk off on him, but it’d only make things worse. Plus, she got the feeling McAllister wouldn’t let her get away with such an admittedly childish move. She hadn’t made CAFF by running away from a fight.
“I’ll ignore the condescension in that remark and ask you again. Can you clarify?”
“You need it spelled out?” He took a step closer to her, voice low and furious. “Approaching the local population and talking to them without permission from me. Putting the rest of the team at risk. Threatening the security of our cover. Is that clear enough for you?”
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