The II AM Trilogy Collection

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The II AM Trilogy Collection Page 107

by Christopher Buecheler

“Colonel Miller,” Carrie said, and she held out Vanessa’s belt and holster as Vanessa began buttoning up her shirt. When she was done, she grabbed the items and fastened them at her waist. Her gun was in her top drawer. She checked the chamber, pocketed an extra clip, and put the gun in its holster.

  “Miller. OK. And they’re still alive?”

  “Last I heard, yeah. He was going to speak with them personally.”

  “They in cellblock?”

  “Yeah, that’s where they took them. I don’t know what’s been going on since then. I had to wait until I could clock out to come tell you. Park’s still on shift for another couple hours.”

  All of the Children’s soldiers worked on constantly shifting, staggered schedules. This was true for the greenest private all the way up through the most seasoned captain, and even the three colonels themselves. Vanessa had just enjoyed the exquisite pleasure of working back-to-back eight-hour shifts. She had spent another three hours writing reports before taking a shower and collapsing into her bed.

  “Where’s Captain Perrault?” Vanessa asked, sitting on the lower bunk now, where Carrie usually slept, rapidly lacing up her boots.

  “We don’t know.”

  Vanessa stopped what she was doing and looked up at Carrie. “What the fuck does that mean? Who is ‘we’ and why don’t they know?!”

  “I guess ‘we’ is everyone I’ve talked to, and I have no idea, Ness. They had me doing repair work in the garage, fixing some trashed boards on the APC. She’s not in her room and she’s not answering calls.”

  “Jesus fucking … incompetent motherf—you know, if Charles was still alive, he’d—”

  “Be really pissed at the people in charge of watching her? I know, Ness. Colonel Miller threw them both into solitary and said maybe he’d let them out in a week.”

  “Good.”

  Vanessa finished lacing up her boots and stood up. She took a moment to try to smooth her clothes out, doing the best she could in the limited amount of time she was willing to allow herself. Then she hauled her long, black braids back into a ponytail and said to Carrie, “I’m going to the Command Center.”

  “I figured you’d want to be there,” Carrie said.

  “Well, I’d rather be down in cellblock interrogating the bats, but I think Colonel Miller would have me shot if I did that without permission.”

  “Probably right.”

  “This is a huge problem. Our location’s been compromised. We’re going to have to start evac within, I don’t know … two hours? Miller probably already has people arming the charges. I want to find out as much as we can before we have to execute the prisoners.”

  Carrie nodded. “I know. I should probably be packing already, but I … can I do anything from here? Not a lot of room for sergeants in the CC.”

  “Not too much room for captains, either, and there are only eight of us. Usually it’s just a colonel, a major, and their tech staff. I’m the only person my rank who’s actually seen the bats up close, though. I might know these two. I’m going.”

  “I want to help,” Carrie said, and there was a plaintive note in her voice.

  Vanessa thought about it for a moment and then said, “I haven’t had a ton of sleep, so maybe I’m missing something, but two vampires creeping around? That screams assassination to me. I’m sure the Emperor’s fine … but Captain Perrault? We need to find her right now.”

  Carrie’s eyes widened. “You think she’s … oh shit, Ness!”

  “Go look. Park’s useless unless he’s in front of a spreadsheet, so don’t worry about him, just go. Maybe Miller has already thought of this, but whoever he’s got, they won’t be as thorough as you. Scour the place from the roof all the way down to the gym and then back again if you still haven’t found her.”

  Vanessa looked at the door, then back at her solider, and continued. “Check everything’s that’s big enough to hold a body, OK? Go fast but be thorough, and when you’re done, find me. If I’m not with the colonel, I’ll be in cellblock.”

  “OK, Ness.”

  “Good,” Vanessa said. For an odd moment, she didn’t want to leave; some part of her, small but insistent, said that she was never going to see Carrie Brennan alive again, that by sending her soldier away she was signing the woman’s death sentence. That seemed absurd, and ultimately Vanessa fought the feeling down.

  “I’ll see you soon,” she said, and she started toward the door.

  * * *

  The Command Center was located on the second sublevel, along with the individual quarters for the three colonels, the four majors, and both of the Emperor’s Hands. In operation twenty-four hours a day, one of the three colonels was always present there, unless some pressing circumstance – the interrogation of two vampire prisoners, for example – took him elsewhere. The colonel on duty was assisted by a major and several technicians, and they spent the bulk of their time planning the comings and goings of the various Children units.

  Vanessa didn’t imagine it was glamorous work, most of the time. Organizing the duties of 180 soldiers plus support staff and trainees was likely a tedious exercise in schedule manipulation, particularly when they weren’t conducting raids. Still, it had to be done in order to ensure that the machine continued running smoothly. None of the colonels was under forty, and she thought the oldest of the three – Miller – might be pushing sixty. There was no higher rank to be obtained, other than the special case of the Emperor’s Hands, and there were always only three. There would not be a new colonel named until one of the current three died or retired.

  When she stepped up to the two privates manning the door to the CC, both snapped to attention and saluted her. Vanessa returned the gesture and said, “I want to speak with Colonel Miller.”

  The two soldiers glanced sidelong at each other for a moment before looking back at her. One of them, a tall and gawky-looking kid, made a coughing noise, and she could see his face reddening. Finally he said, “When he got back from cellblock, Colonel Miller said he wasn’t to be disturbed, ma’am.”

  “I think he’ll make an exception for me,” Vanessa said.

  “I dunno, ma’am,” the other private said. He was older, also tall, and built like a tank. “He’s uh … pretty pissed off.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Fucking bats won’t talk,” the first private said. “Uh … pardon my French, ma’am.”

  “Sounded American to me,” Vanessa said. “Well, boys, here’s the situation … one of you is going in there and telling Colonel Miller that Captain Harper would like a moment of his time. Further, you can tell him that I made it expressly clear to you that if you did not relay my message to him, I was going to pick one of you at random and shoot him in the groin. I’ll give you fifteen seconds to realize I’m serious.”

  Vanessa took a step back and pulled her weapon from its holster, chambering a round and holding the gun at her side.

  “Ten seconds,” she said.

  “Ma’am, I—” began the muscular one, and Vanessa swung the pistol around to point between his legs.

  “Volunteering?” she asked. “Fantastic! Five seconds, Private.”

  “Dude, I’d go,” the gawky private said, his eyes wide but his tone almost conversational, and Vanessa had to stifle a laugh. If the boys called her bluff, she was ready to put the fear of God into them with a shot, but she wasn’t about to emasculate either of them. Fortunately, the bigger private proved unwilling to test her.

  “Be right back!” he said, and he made his way through the door. The scrawny one let out a sigh of relief.

  “That would’ve sucked,” he said.

  “More for him than for you,” Vanessa replied.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Vanessa made her weapon safe and returned it to the holster. She and the private waited in silence, and soon the soldier returned.

  “He uh … says you can come in.”

  “Excellent,” Vanessa said, and the two soldiers stepped out of her way. She
moved past them. Behind her, she heard the bigger soldier ask the other if he thought she’d been serious. She allowed herself a small smile as she entered the Command Center.

  “Are you enjoying tormenting my people, Harper?” Colonel Miller asked her from the far side of the room, and Vanessa forced the smile from her face.

  “No, sir,” she said as she walked toward him. “I just didn’t want to waste a lot of time fighting with them, and I thought you might make an exception for me.”

  “Right,” Miller said, and he looked up from his computer monitor as she approached the desk. He was a hard man with a lined face, short, grey hair, broad shoulders, and only the slightest hint of a belly. Of the three colonels, she thought he was the best.

  “I just heard about the bats,” Vanessa told him, and Miller made a scoffing noise.

  “And you thought, ‘what the colonel needs right now is my expert opinion,’ Captain?”

  Vanessa wasn’t going to be intimidated. “That is exactly right, sir.”

  Miller shook his head, glancing back at his monitor. “What advice can you offer, might I ask, that was so important it was worth threatening my men?”

  “Not advice, Colonel. Knowledge. I’ve been in the field and seen these assholes up close. I might know them.”

  “I don’t see why that matters,” Miller told her, and Vanessa found herself grasping for the words she needed to explain why she thought it did.

  “I want to interrogate them,” she said at last.

  “I already did that. They’re not talking, and you haven’t answered my question. What is it you think you can offer me, Captain Harper, that I can’t get for myself?

  “I might be able to use my knowledge of the events that happened in the cathedral to get them to talk. What do they look like?”

  “One of them is a tall, gangly white male with short, dark hair. The other one is a petite white female with short, blonde hair.”

  “You see? I’ve fought those two. The woman … she’s the one who—”

  “I’ve read your reports, Vanessa. I know who she is. She’s not talking. Normally we’d bring Captain Perrault in on this, since she’s so persuasive, but given her previous reaction to the girl …”

  “Also, she’s missing,” Vanessa said.

  “I am aware of that. We’re scouring the base, but she may have slipped out.”

  “Where do you suppose she would go?” Vanessa asked.

  “Maybe she wanted a steak and a beer,” Miller said. “How the hell would I know? That woman’s impossible to get a handle on.”

  No argument here, Vanessa thought. Out loud she said, “What if she’s dead? They could be assassins. Maybe they already accomplished their objective.”

  “If she’s dead, then she’s dead. There’s nobody here who can bring her back to life, and frankly she’s not my most pressing concern at the moment.”

  “But we need to know how we were compromised … we need—”’

  “Harper, I have an evacuation to plan. In six hours, we need every man and woman among us out of this building. We’re erasing all of our local data, napalming the hardware, and collapsing the entire place in on itself. On top of that, I have to figure out how to go tell all of this to the Emperor, who hasn’t spoken to any of us since Charles died. If we have to, we’ll bring the bats to the Colorado outpost and interrogate them there.”

  “I can have my squad ready to go in four hours, tops,” Vanessa said. “That includes time for Park to do backups and wipe his local data.””

  “Good for you.”

  “Well … that gives me plenty of time to try and interrogate the bats. I want another stab at that blonde chick. She got away from me before and I’ve got some serious questions.”

  The colonel sighed, rubbing his face with his hands. He was nearing the end of his shift, and Vanessa thought he would be glad to turn the CC over to Davis or Palowski and let them finish the evacuation.

  “I’ll give you one hour,” he said at last. “Your primary mission is to find out why they’re here and how the hell they figured out our location. You want to ask questions about Captain Perrault’s little episode afterward, you be my guest, but get those two answers first. Do you understand?”

  “Absolutely, sir,” Vanessa said, unable to suppress a triumphant grin.

  Miller nodded and gave her a grim half smile in return. He turned and glanced at one of his aides. “Call down to cellblock and let them know she’s coming.”

  “Yes, sir,” the man replied, and he picked up a nearby phone.

  “You’re a royal pain in the ass,” Miller told Vanessa.

  “Yes I am, sir,” she replied. “It’s one of my best qualities.”

  “If your people take so much as one minute more than four hours to get ready, prepare for a month of shit assignments. I’m talking stuff that will make latrine duty seem like a fucking stroll through the park in spring, get me?”

  “Won’t happen, sir.”

  “Of course not.”

  The colonel looked at her for a moment longer, his gaze hard and appraising, and she wondered if he knew; had Charles told them what she was to become, or had he kept it to himself? Was Miller wondering whether, in another month, he would be taking orders from her instead of the other way around? Was that why he had relented?

  She couldn’t ask these questions and so she settled for returning his gaze, not willing to look away. Finally, Miller smiled as if at some inner joke and opened his mouth to say something. Before he had a chance to speak, the aide on the phone turned to them.

  “No one’s answering at cellblock, sir,” he said, and Miller’s brow furrowed. He glanced over that the bank of monitors that took up most of the left wall, each of them cycling through several camera views. It occurred to Vanessa only at this moment to wonder how the bats had ever made it so deep without being caught on a single closed-circuit feed. Despite popular myth, they very definitely showed up in mirrors, photographs, and videos.

  “Well, they’re right fucking there,” Miller said, stabbing a finger at the screen. One of the other aides, this one a lieutenant, stepped over for a closer look.

  “Wait a sec …” he murmured, and stuck his nose right up within inches of the screen. “That’s Mike Timlaine.”

  “So what?” the colonel asked.

  “Mike’s a friend of mine, sir … he was on shift last night. Today’s his day off.”

  “What the hell is he doing down there, then?”

  “Is that … it’s Trisha with him. She’s not on tonight, either. Sir, something’s FUBAR here.”

  “It’s playing last night’s video feed,” Vanessa said, and a sudden chill ran its way through the entire length of her body. “They all are. Colonel, we have to get down to cellblock right fucking n—”

  She was cut off by a sudden, long whistle from one of the workstations. An aide bent over it, tapped a few keys, and the alarm stopped. Then he looked up at them, his eyes wide.

  “What’s the situation?” Miller barked, and the boy started, stammering.

  “Ah … it’s ah … it’s the loading bays, sir. Someone’s opened them.”

  “Which ones?”

  “A—all eight of them, sir.”

  “Oh, Christ,” Miller said, and then the building’s alarm system went off. Claxons screamed overhead and the orange emergency lights began to flash. Vanessa didn’t have to ask the colonel what it meant, though she had never been told. For the first time in her history with the Children, they were under attack.

  Chapter 21

  Unexpected Encounters

  The man who had identified himself as Colonel Miller had spent two hours snarling questions at them, in between bouts of physical violence that had left both her and Theroen bruised and bloodied. Two had alternated between silence, taunting, and spitting out patently false information. At one point she had told him her name was Marie Curie. At another, that she had learned about the Children’s location from the Illinois Office of Tourism
. She’d thought this tremendously amusing.

  The colonel hadn’t shared her sense of humor, and when at last she’d seen him coming dangerously close to losing his control altogether, Two had stopped throwing barbs at him and stuck to silence. He had hit her then, three times in the face and once in the side. Theroen’s anguish had been visible on his face from across the room, and Two had been proud of him for keeping his mouth shut.

  “I have things to do,” the colonel had told them at last. “You two rest up, and we’ll continue our little chat once I’m off duty. I’m going to bring a friend, and he’s going to bring his collection of knives, and we’ll see how many pieces of each of you we have to remove before you decide to talk.”

  He had instructed four soldiers, each armed with an assault rifle, to take them to the third cell and toss them in with someone he called only ‘the traitor.’ Now they were walking down the hall, hands shackled behind their backs in metal cuffs. Two could feel a stabbing pain every time she breathed, and she hoped to have the chance to return the favor to the colonel.

  They arrived at a heavy steel door with a tiny, reinforced window. One of the guards stepped forward, produced a plastic card, and held it up to a pad next to the door. There was a buzzing noise and Two heard heavy-sounding bolts moving. The guard swung the door open.

  “Get in,” the man directly behind her snarled, and he shoved her in the back. Two stumbled and slammed into the concrete wall with her left shoulder, but she managed to use it to keep from falling face first into the cell. She stepped into the room and heard Theroen walking in behind her.

  The room was larger than she had expected, probably twenty feet square, with high ceilings and a plain concrete floor. There weren’t any windows and the lights were turned very low, but her eyes had no difficulty coping. There was a small metal toilet and a single rickety cot. The room was otherwise bereft of furnishings, and there was a man sitting on the floor in the corner, arms crossed over his knees, head down. He did not look up at their entry.

  “You gonna take these fucking handcuffs off?” Two asked one of the guards as he stepped into the room. “Or are you too scared?”

 

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