“What do you think?” Bren whispered.
“Not sure,” he answered. “But I think they’re west of us. Let’s head out away. It’ll take us longer to reach the rendezvous, but better than running into trouble.”
Carefully, they both rose to their feet, moving quietly off at an angle.
He set a pace that struck a precarious balance between speed and stealth.
However, it didn’t seem to matter how much ground they covered, he could still hear what sounded like two soldiers behind them. He didn’t think they were being followed, and he would have known if anyone had gotten close enough to spot them. Maybe just a border patrol who happened to be going in the same direction.
With a quick gesture at Bren, he switched directions to take them deeper into CSS territory. They were running down the line on reaching the rendezvous on time. He’d have to take the risk that the patrol, or whoever it was, would be left behind when they put more distance between them and the border.
Bren’s expression was tense, her attention divided between watching her footing and the echoes of movement and murmur of voices between the trees.
Half an hour later, they were getting closer to the rendezvous point and could still hear their uninvited company. Cam paused again, this time kneeling to take shelter behind a fallen trunk half grown over with vines and ferns.
“They must be following us,” he said as Bren settled beside him, taking a drink from her canteen.
“But how? There’s no way they could have known we were out here. Besides, they’re making too much noise. Surely they’d know we’ve made them.”
“No one said all the CS soldiers were well trained,” he muttered, accepting her canteen when she held it out and taking a quick gulp. After passing it back, he pulled out a night-vision scope. With zoom action, he picked out two figures moving about a hundred yards off. They were too indistinct for him to say for sure if they were CSS, but he’d take safe money on it.
Dammit, they didn’t have time to be messing around. Nieman was due back within minutes, and the rendezvous was still at least ten to fifteen away—at a flat-out run. Options were limited and none of them good. There was only one thing he could do. Bren wasn’t going to like it. Hell, he didn’t like it. But they didn’t have a choice.
“I’m going to scout, see if I can’t work out what we’re dealing with. I want you to stay here. If I’m not back in five minutes, get to the rendezvous.”
“Cam—”
“I know it’s not ideal, but before you bother arguing, we both know you’re the one who has to meet up with the rebel forces. No one else can call in the air strike. Those jets could be the difference between success and failure.”
He lowered the scope and looked over at her. There was no mistaking the worry in her eyes, but her expression was resolute when she nodded.
He hated sending her off alone. But if he could lead that patrol away, it would give her the best chance of making the rendezvous, of meeting the rebels, calling in the air strike, and freeing Seb and his men.
He slipped the scope away and then took her hand. He wanted to kiss the hell out of her, but he couldn’t take the chance without the risk of completely screwing everything up.
“Be careful.” There were so many other things he could have said, but he swallowed every single one of them.
“You, too,” she murmured, squeezing his hand.
They stared at each other a moment longer, and the insidious fear that if anything went wrong, this might be the last time they saw each other, slithered into his mind.
She sent him a single nod, like she was letting him know it was okay. But none of this was okay. This mission had gone sideways, and it didn’t matter what he did, it just kept getting worse. Now he had to walk away from Bren, despite everything she’d come to mean to him. Logic told him this was the best plan.
With a silent curse, he let her hand go, then got to his feet, keeping low as he rounded the log and beelined toward the figures he’d spotted through the scope.
Getting as close as he dared, he finally got a better look at them—CS soldiers. But it didn’t seem the pair were searching for them.
He tracked them for a bit, worried because they were loosely heading in the direction of where Nieman had planned to set down the ship. He’d have to lead them away to ensure they didn’t find Bren or were close enough to catch up when the ship landed.
Just as he was getting ready to make enough noise to ensure he’d grab the pair’s attention, a third, slighter figure caught his eye.
Something in the way she moved told him who it was without needing to see her face or those damned blond curls.
What the hell was Bren doing? He’d given her specific instructions, and she’d disobeyed him.
An unexpected blaze of fury burst to life within him. She was going to be seen by the two soldiers he’d been tracking.
Just like Jordie.
Everything shifted, his memories of that night—when Jordie had defied his express orders and struck out on his own, which had resulted in the rest of their team getting killed—surfaced with shocking clarity, like it’d happened an hour ago, not ten years past.
He squeezed his eyes shut to shove the memories down. But that didn’t help him with now. Did he reveal himself and end with them both being caught? Or did he leave her, hotfoot it for the rendezvous site, and join the rebel forces?
He probably wasn’t going to have a choice. Bren was closing in on his position, though in the darkness, how had she known where he was? She had her gun out and was treading carefully as though looking for the enemy. Didn’t she realize they were coming up behind her?
He stepped out from where he’d been hiding. She spotted him almost right away, but after a moment’s hesitation brought her electromag gun up to point in his direction. Why the hell was she pointing her gun his way? Couldn’t she see it was him in the darkness? His heart skipped a beat, partly from being on the business end of her gun, but also because the two CS soldiers were now coming up fast behind her.
“Bren, what are you doing?” His low voice through the darkness didn’t deter her aim, and he couldn’t use the excuse any longer that she didn’t know it was him.
Which meant—
His breath caught as his heart failed for a too-long second.
No.
He refused to believe it. But it almost made a twisted kind of sense.
Was Bren a CSS mole?
Chapter Twenty-One
Bren’s finger tightened on the trigger, ready to squeeze off a shot, when the running crunch of footsteps sounded right behind her.
She didn’t know whether to keep her aim or swing around to face the new threat. But then it was too late. The CS soldiers behind her were demanding she lower her weapon, while four others materialized from the darkness in the forest around her.
The chances of fighting their way out of three-to-one odds were not good, so she lowered her arm as the two soldiers behind her came forward and wrenched the gun from her grip and shoved her down to her knees.
A few feet away, Cam was getting the same treatment, except he was patted down for his weapons before they cuffed his hands behind his back and then forced him to kneel. He looked furious, like he was ready to take on all six soldiers single-handedly to escape or die trying. She didn’t think he’d do anything so reckless—at least she hoped he wouldn’t. Honestly, she didn’t really know what he was capable of when backed into a corner. And this was one hell of a corner.
“What do you want with us?” Cam demanded, pushing back to his feet, gaining the attention of all the soldiers.
“We heard rumors there were rebels in these woods,” one of the soldiers answered.
“We’re not rebels,” Cam answered heatedly, taking half a step forward.
“No? Well I don’t believe you.” The soldier rammed the butt of his rifle into Cam’s midsection, making him double over. Her heart slammed against her ribs, and she would have been at his sid
e in an instant if not for the soldier holding her down.
The soldier nodded to another nearby, who tried to force Cam back to his knees, but he refused to go down, arguing they didn’t know anything about the rebels and had been trying to sneak across the border to claim asylum with the UEF. An Ilari citizen admitting they were trying to defect was almost as bad as being a rebel. And the soldiers didn’t look like they were about to give Cam any less trouble over it.
While they were distracted, she shoved her hand into her pocket and wrapped her fingers around her comm, pulling it free and stealing a glance at it, tapping her thumb on the distress icon. She wasn’t expecting a rescue team, but without any clues, Alpha and Yang would be left wondering what had happened when she didn’t call in the air strike.
She covertly shoved the comm into her bra. Not that she had any illusions it wouldn’t eventually be found. But at least this way, her people on the Valiant Knox would be able to track them until it was discovered.
One of the soldiers finally cuffed her, then gave her a rushed pat down, taking her knife, but luckily not discovering the comm. She’d taken a gamble on the fact many front line CS soldiers weren’t very well trained and had won. For now.
The man who seemed to be the leader ordered them to move, two soldiers taking the lead, while another two walked on either side of them, and the last pair brought up the rear.
“Don’t suppose you have a plan to get us out of this?” she murmured to Cam as low as she could.
He didn’t answer, didn’t even glance in her direction. The only sign that he’d heard her was the tightening of his jaw, where a muscle pulsed. He was clearly pissed about this, but giving her the silent treatment wasn’t going to help anything.
There’d been little chance they were going to get out of these woods without running across the CS soldiers—she’d worked that out shortly after Cam had left to scout the two soldiers he’d thought were following them.
She’d soon identified another pair closing in from the opposite direction, and after waiting the five minutes Cam had allocated her, started moving toward the rendezvous site. Despite knowing she might not make it on time to meet Nieman, she hadn’t run. She couldn’t have, not without drawing attention.
She’d stumbled on yet another patrol, nearly stepping right out in front of them. At the last second, she’d dropped behind a tree trunk, plastering herself against the bark and making herself as small as possible.
The CS soldiers hadn’t seen her as they’d passed, but she’d heard them talking about how CSS forces had intercepted a shuttle coming here, and arrested the CSS pilot for treason. They were looking for the rebels in these woods the traitor had been coming to meet. Somehow, they’d found out about Nieman, but at least the patrols only thought they were rebels. If the truth about them being UEF had been revealed, the soldiers would have very different orders. Probably kill on sight.
The shuttle wasn’t coming for them. They needed to find a way to join with the rebels, and Cam had thought there were only two soldiers in the forest. There’d been no other option but to try and warn him.
When she’d finally found him, almost by accident, she’d realized he was so focused on the CS soldiers he’d been tracking, he hadn’t noticed another two soldiers coming up behind him.
No doubt he had questions about her actions, but for better or worse, she’d done what she thought was right.
The CS soldiers walked them for almost an hour, more and more pairs joining the patrol until they were escorted by about sixteen enemy soldiers. They reached the edge of the woods where two shuttles were waiting.
“Where are you taking us?” Cam demanded as they were hustled inside one of the shuttles and then cuffed to their seats.
“The Vatica Center, outside the Holy City,” the soldier in charge answered. “You’ll be interrogated and tried there. Whether you really were trying to defect or are the rebels we were sent to find, you’ll need to be reminded of the Ilari way of life before your release.”
The Vatica Center was the CS soldiers’ name for their reeducation camp, the same one the rebels were planning to hit.
Well, she’d wanted a new way to join the rebels planning to strike. On the chance no one found her comm, she’d have to make a decision about ordering the air strike while Cam and she were still inside the building. But if it made the difference between the rebels losing or finally breaking the CSS hold on this planet, there was no debate to be had. Sometimes war required sacrifice. She’d learned that from Jordie.
…
By the time the ship touched down at the reeducation camp, Bren’s stomach was tense and heavy like it’d turned to stone. She wished she could have blamed the slightly ill feeling on the substandard pilot who had barely managed to keep the shuttle steady for the entire flight. But flying had never made her sick, so it had more to do with trying not to think about what would be in store for them once they reached the camp, and what would happen when the rebels attacked in a few hours.
The other thing making her nervous was the fact that she hadn’t gotten a chance to talk with Cam; they hadn’t been left alone for even a second. In fact, she hadn’t even been able to catch his eye. He was locked down, his expression a hard mask, a little like he’d been when she’d first started on this mission. Except this time, something about him was also stone cold. She didn’t know what the hell was going on with him, but it worried her.
They were marched off the ship and across the empty yard, all the fences around the compound laced with razor wire, soldiers patrolling on the outer side, spotlights sweeping back and forth in what could have only been an automated pattern, while the buildings themselves were austere—all plain concrete and metal.
Most of the soldiers stayed on the ship, and once their three CS soldier escorts had walked them clear, the shuttle’s hatchway closed and the ship took off again, blasting them with dust.
She went to raise an arm to cover her face, but the soldier closest to her grabbed her wrist and wrenched her arm back down again, telling her not to make any sudden movements. The soldier didn’t let go of her but used his grip to roughly steer her inside the building.
Her eyes hurt for a moment at the bright sterile light, after being out in the darkness for so long and the dim interior of the shuttle. Down a short corridor and through a barred, wire-mesh door, they were pulled to a halt. A high counter ran the length of one side, with several CS soldiers working behind it.
“Names,” one of the soldiers behind the desk asked, sounding bored.
Neither she nor Cam answered, and while she glanced at him, he kept his gaze trained straight ahead and expression motionless.
The CS soldier behind the desk looked up.
“Names,” he repeated, tone edging toward annoyed.
When they didn’t answer for a second time, the soldier standing closest to Cam hooked a fist into his abdomen. Cam started to double over, but the guard wrenched him upright again.
“Name, traitor,” the soldier practically growled. “The less you cooperate, the harder it’s going to be. Not only on you, but anyone you care about. We’ll find them, and we’ll bring them here to join you.”
“Ronald Martin,” Cam finally muttered through clenched teeth. It took the soldiers a minute, but as the one behind the desk started typing, they belatedly realized he’d used the name of their Pontifex.
The CS soldier next to Cam punched him again, this time in the face, then shoved him to the floor.
“What about you?” the soldier demanded, stepping over Cam, who was being held down by another soldier standing with his boot poised on Cam’s neck. “Do you have some smart answer as well, or are you ready to tell me your name?”
She glanced down at Cam, who was still frustratingly avoiding her gaze.
“My name is Leena Raymond,” she replied, hastily using her mother’s name before she was married.
“Good.” The soldier seemed somewhat appeased. “And are you willing to cooperate?�
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She nodded, though agreeing left an uneasy feeling in her stomach when she didn’t know exactly what she was agreeing to.
“Strip them both.” The soldier clasped his hands behind his back, taking a step back.
“You already took our weapons,” she said, not wanting them to find the comm. But worse, the fear that he literally meant strip every article of clothing and ending up naked in front of a room full of men clawed into her, making it hard to breathe.
Everyone onboard the Knox had heard stories about these reeducation camps, but she’d never let them sink into her mind, because the fear of getting caught might have outweighed her sense of duty, and she wouldn’t have been an effective pilot.
Cam was pulled to his feet by the soldier who’d been ready to crush his windpipe, while the other soldier who’d been standing at attention behind her moved closer.
Without even realizing what she was doing, she closed a hand around the neckline of her shirt, as if that alone would keep anyone from taking it off her.
“You just promised to cooperate,” the soldier in charge said in a quietly menacing voice. “But this is going to happen whether you fight us or not.”
“Have some decency,” Cam said in a hard voice. Though he still hadn’t looked directly at her, his expression had gone from hard and cold to downright furious and freezing. “At least call a female soldier here and take her into a private room.”
“Traitors don’t deserve decency.” The soldier nodded to his companion, who started tugging Cam’s jacket off. Cam didn’t exactly resist, but he also didn’t make it easy on the soldier. In the end, the CS soldier ended up taking a knife to Cam’s shirt.
The leader looked over at her. “You can either remove the clothes yourself, or one of my men will do it for you.”
Her body shut down, panic rising. Her mind was shouting at her to do something, anything, but she couldn’t move a muscle. The soldier next to her began pulling at her jacket, but he’d hardly yanked it half off when Cam exploded into action. Despite being cuffed, he managed to put down the soldier who’d started stripping him, and as he closed the distance between them, knocked out the second CS soldier who came at him with a head butt.
War Games_Valiant Knox Page 20