by R. D. Brady
He’d been checked over by a doctor and told to rest. They’d given him a hospital room down the hall. But how the hell was he supposed to rest? Part of his family was out there somewhere. Those things had them. There was no chance he was going to rest.
There was also no chance that anyone was going to let him in on the plans for going after them. Chris had walked the hospital hallways, but the heavy guard presence at the end of the hall let him know clearly that while he could wander the halls, he certainly couldn’t leave. He didn’t know what to do with himself. He turned the corner, flinching as his hip knocked into a food trolley left in the hall. He swallowed down a curse, his eyes straining to the window of the door in front of him. Adam sat next to a hospital bed. Chris quietly opened the door.
A giant white bandage covered the top half of Tilda’s skull. For once, she actually looked old. It was as if with one fell swoop, the Draco had aged her. Her pale skin blended into the white bandages and sheets below her.
Adam looked up from the chair next to the bed, his sunglasses still in place. Chris walked over to the edge of the bed. He nodded down toward Tilda, keeping his voice low. “How’s she doing?”
Adam cleared his throat. “The doctor says she should recover. But it would be better if she regained consciousness soon.”
Chris studied the unusual man. The veins of Adam’s arms stood out as his hands gripped the side of the chair. He looked like he was on the edge of throwing himself from the chair and doing some damage. Chris had the feeling the damage wasn’t aimed at him or Tilda. And for just a moment, he felt sorry for whoever it was aimed at.
“Do you mind if I …” Chris gestured to a chair next to Adam. “I’m going a little crazy. No one will tell me anything about Maeve, Greg, the kids, and I just don’t want to …” He shrugged, not wanting to finish the statement.
Adam nodded to the chair next to him, and without a word, Chris took a seat. He and Adam sat there, neither speaking, just listening to the machines next to Tilda. Chris dozed off eventually. The door opening behind him jarred him awake. He glanced up as Pearl stepped into the room.
Pearl frowned as she caught sight of Chris. “Captain Garrigan, you should be in your room. I can have a soldier escort you—”
“He stays.” Adam’s voice held no room for argument.
For a second, Chris wondered if Pearl would argue. After all, Pearl was second-in-command of R.I.S.E. And with Tilda out of commission, Pearl was in charge. Pearl stared at Adam for a long moment before nodding. “Fine. I was coming to check on Tilda. Has there been any change?”
Adam shook his head, angling himself slightly toward the bed, then he jolted. Chris looked at the bed as well, surprised to see Tilda’s eyes open, looking at Adam.
Adam jumped out of his chair. He took Tilda’s hand and held it carefully. An unspoken conversation occurred between the two of them as they stared into each other’s eyes. Chris felt uncomfortable being in the room. Even without words, it was incredibly intimate.
Finally, Tilda turned to Chris, giving him a nod before giving Pearl her attention. Her voice was raspy and weak, but the command was still there. “Sit rep.”
Pearl stepped forward, her gaze on the tablet in her hands. “The island’s defenses were completely destroyed. Damage was sustained by eighty percent of the buildings on Hy-Brasil, including transportation and development.”
Pearl paused, staring at Tilda before Tilda nodded. “Understood. Continue.”
Pearl’s gaze returned to her tablet. “Approximately sixty percent of R.I.S.E. was injured in some way, shape, or form during the attack. Fifty-seven individuals were killed, an additional ten are still in critical condition. The rest of the injured are expected to make a full recovery.”
Tilda closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. “What about our guests?”
Pearl paused, shooting a look at Chris before she spoke. “Doctors Maeve Leander and Greg Schorn were taken hostage. Along with Alvie, one of the triplets, the Maldek, and Luke Gillibrand.”
Tilda’s eyes shot open, and she looked at Chris, then her gaze returned to Pearl. “Government response?”
“The government is aware of the incident. The media has been blacked out. There is no reporting of it on any major or minor television station.”
Chris frowned, trying to figure out how that was possible. Someone must’ve heard the explosions or noticed the choppers that had been sent in to carry out the wounded.
But then again, these people had been keeping Hy-Brasil secret for decades. He supposed they had their methods in place.
Pearl rattled off a bunch of other information about the attack.
Chris listened to half of it, not really understanding the words that were being used. He’d been around the military long enough to know it probably was code. He let their words drone over him as he pictured Maeve when he’d first started at Wright-Patterson. He’d thought she was beautiful and completely untouchable. Smart, sexy, and kind. Then when he’d seen her with Alvie, he been absolutely amazed. But that had been nothing compared to what he’d seen since the attack at Area 51.
And now she was in danger again. And he was in no position to help her. He cut into Pearl’s running dialogue. “What are the plans to get Maeve and the others back? Do you have a location?”
Pearl glanced at Tilda, who nodded. “We believe that they are somewhere on the West Coast of the U.S. We are still waiting on confirmation.”
“Initiate Mark.”
Pearl’s hands stilled over the tablet, her gaze shooting to Tilda’s face. She paled noticeably before she nodded. “Initiating Mark.”
Tilda turned to Adam. “Take the captain to the first floor and have him suited up. I’m sure he will want to be involved in the next step of the process.”
Chris looked between the two of them, sensing something that wasn’t being said. “Who’s Mark?”
Tilda closed her eyes wearily. “Adam will explain.”
Adam stood. Chris looked between Tilda and Pearl, debating whether or not to demand answers, but he had a feeling that he wasn’t going to get them no matter how much he demanded. He followed Adam from the room. Once in the hall, he stopped. “Who’s Mark?”
Adam paused, looking up and down the hall before turning to Chris. “Not who, but what. MAURC stands for Military Arsenal Under R.I.S.E. Control. It’s the failsafe for when the Draco finally make their move. Once initiated, the entire arsenal of the United States military is under Tilda’s control.” Adam headed down the hall.
Chris was rooted to the spot before he shook himself into motion. He hurried after Adam, not sure if he should be grateful that they had reached that stage or terrified.
Chapter Seventy-Five
Hurry up and wait. After years of being in the military, Chris thought he was used to it. He’d spent countless hours just waiting after orders had been issued. The military, like any bureaucracy, moved slow, painfully slow at times. But right now, with Maeve and everyone else in danger, the wait was downright unbearable.
After Adam and Chris left Tilda’s room, Adam had escorted Chris to the first floor. He’d been outfitted with new clothes as well as a sidearm. Then he’d been taken to the barracks. Adam had disappeared then. But Sandra and Norah had been there. Sandra’s eyes had been rimmed in red. Chris knew exactly how she felt. She was a mirror to his own feelings. But they hadn’t stayed in the barracks long. Less than an hour later, they had been escorted to a truck and taken to an airfield. They had been loaded onto an Atlas.
This plane was smaller than the Airbus. Only a few dozen people were on it, including Tilda. Her hospital bed had been wheeled into the back room. Adam and Jasper disappeared into it with her.
Barely a minute after they had their seatbelts on, they were taxiing down the runway. Pearl appeared from the cockpit after they’d leveled off to explain that they were heading back to the States and that everyone on board would remain under R.I.S.E.’s protection until the situation normaliz
ed.
Pearl did not explain what exactly would normalize this particular situation.
When they arrived in the States, they were taken to Maxwell Air Force Base in Alabama. It was a training ground for entry-level airmen and housed Air University, a key part of Air Education and Training Command and the Air Force’s center for professional military education. It had over 12,000 active duty, civilian, and contracted personnel and covered over 4,100 acres.
Not that they had been given the tour. Chris knew about the base because he’d been stationed here for two months during officer candidate school.
No, instead of a tour, Chris, Sandra, and Norah had been taken to yet another set of barracks. When they’d stepped out of the truck, there hadn’t been a soul around. That had been three hours ago. Now Chris paced up and down the barracks room, not sure what to do with himself. Sandra had collapsed into one of the bunks at the end. She wasn’t sleeping, just staring off into space.
Norah sat on the floor at the back of the room, her back up against the wall. Her eyes shifted from person to person, window to window. Chris wasn’t sure what was going through her mind, but none of them felt like talking.
Chris’s arm itched as the skin began to regrow and dry out. A medic had replaced the bandage on the plane. Chris stretched his arms, feeling the skin stretch. God, he hated this. He was doing nothing.
The door to the back of the barracks opened. Adam strode in, nodding at Norah and Sandra before heading toward Chris. Norah got up from her seated position and followed Adam toward him. Sandra didn’t even move.
Adam stopped right in front of Chris. “You need to come with me.”
Chris put his arms over his chest. “Why?”
“I don’t have time to explain. If you want answers, you need to move quickly.”
Chris exchanged a look with Norah, who nodded back at him. “Go. Find out what’s going on.”
Chris studied the man in front of him. Adam was strange, but there was something about him that Chris trusted. “Okay, let’s go.”
Adam took off at a quick pace, and Chris had to hurry to keep up with him. They climbed into a jeep already running, and Adam quickly drove through the base. Chris frowned, not recognizing the section of the base they were entering.
Adam pulled the jeep into a small overhang next to an old hangar. Chris put a hand on the door handle, but Adam stopped him. “Wait.”
Adam climbed out of the car and scanned the area before nodding back at Chris. “Okay.”
Adam led Chris farther into the hangar and to a door in the back. Chris was surprised when the door led to a staircase heading down. He hustled after Adam in the dark, amazed at how quickly the man could move. Chris kept a strong grip on the railing so he didn’t topple forward. They reached the bottom level, three levels below the surface. Adam pulled open an old metal door, revealing a dim hallway. The hallway stretched left and right. Without hesitation, Adam headed left.
Chris hustled behind him, breaking into a jog. They made four more turns until Chris had absolutely no idea where on the base they would pop up. He’d heard rumors about the tunnels underneath the base, but he’d never actually been in them. Finally, Adam reached another metal door similar to the dozen or so they had already passed. There was no marking on this one to distinguish it from any of the rest. Adam pulled it open and hurried inside, jogging up a flight of stairs.
Once again, Chris followed. He cursed silently on the second flight of stairs when he missed a step and banged his knee on the landing.
Instead of going to the surface, Adam stopped one level below it. He opened a door and all but sprinted down the hallway. Chris followed him as Adam ducked into a room. It was a large room with a giant conference table in the middle that could easily seat twenty. Adam hustled to the back of the room and tapped on part of the wall. A small opening appeared. Gripping the panel with both hands, he slid it farther open, revealing a small hidey-hole hidden in the wall. “You need to get in and stay silent.”
Chris eyed the dark space with more than a little skepticism. “Why?”
“If you want to know what’s going to happen, you need to get in there.”
The low murmur of voices reached them from the open doorway. Chris shot a glance at Adam, who nodded back at him. Chris dove into the space. Adam shut it, blocking out all light.
It was a tight fit. Chris could stand straight, but he only had about four inches on each side of him. Thank God I’m not claustrophobic.
There was a small vent near his head that he hadn’t noticed from the outside. It allowed him to both see and hear what was happening in the room. Apparently it had been covered over with mesh to hide it.
Chris had no idea how Adam even knew it was here. From Chris’s vantage point, he could see the room well. Adam took position by the door at the front of the room. He stood with his legs shoulder width apart, his arms by his side. As Pearl stepped into the room, she looked up at him. Adam nodded back coolly.
Pearl turned to the people behind her. “Please take your seats. As soon as everyone has arrived, we will begin.”
Chris watched as people slowly filtered into the room. He didn’t recognize all of them, but he did recognize the uniforms. There were representatives from the Air Force, Navy, Army, Marine Corps, and Coast Guard. He also recognized the second in charge of the FBI. The rest of the suits he wasn’t familiar with, but he guessed they probably filled up the rest of the Who’s Who of the United States government’s hierarchy.
Tilda stepped into the room. Chris was surprised she was upright. She moved with only a slight limp. Tilda walked to the end of the table, using a cane. He’d thought she’d be laid up a lot longer than that. But the bandage on her head had been replaced with a much smaller one. And there was a lot more color in her cheeks than there had been the last time he’d seen her, although he had a sneaking suspicion that was due to makeup rather than good health.
Tilda took the seat at the end of the table, her back to Chris. A tall, extremely thin man with glasses held out the chair out for her. Tilda nodded at him as she took her seat. “Director Harrison.”
And that would make him the head of the DNI.
Adam moved so that he was positioned to the right and behind her. Pearl took position behind her on her left.
The Navy representative leaned forward. “I’d like someone to explain to me what exactly is going on. This MAURC order came out of nowhere. We didn’t even know it existed until it was issued. And I have a great deal of reticence at simply handing over military control to a body I’ve never even heard of.”
“I’m sure you do. But as I’m sure you’re also aware, the order was ratified by President Eisenhower and then President Kennedy. And it has been in existence since then. We don’t get to choose the orders we follow, Admiral. We simply follow them.”
“If you could perhaps explain the history of this order, I think it would be easier for the rest of us to understand exactly what is happening here,” the representative from the Marine Corps said, her voice measured.
“As soon as everyone is here, I will do exactly that.”
Director Harrison looked around the table with a frown. “Who exactly are we waiting for?”
“Me.” Martin Drummond strode into the room.
Chapter Seventy-Six
Edmonds, Washington
The wind blew hard outside the Maybach window. The Puget Sound was choppy with white wave crests dotting the surface. Tatiana glanced at her watch, her annoyance growing. They were late. Granted, by only five minutes, but late was late.
Bad enough she had to come to this metropolitan wasteland. She hated Washington State. It was always raining, always gray. She was fifteen miles north of Seattle, but it might as well be a different world.
The warehousing district she found herself in was a blight on the landscape. Concrete and cement as far as the eye could see, and most of it in need of repair. It wasn’t an abandoned area, but that did not help the look of desolat
ion surrounding it.
Tatiana owned five of the warehouses. She kept them staffed with security, but they held no goods. The remaining thirteen warehouses in the area were all owned by other businesses, and a large part of the job of her security was keeping an eye on them and making sure they didn’t stray anywhere near her business.
A Hummer appeared from between two of the warehouses, turning toward her, followed by a large boxy white truck and then a second Hummer. “Finally,” she grumbled as she grasped the car handle and stepped out.
A gust of wind slapped up against her, pushing her blonde hair into her face. With an impatient gesture, she shoved it behind her ear. She grimaced as the smell of freshly caught fish reached her nose. She hated being down here. But she needed to be here when her guests arrived.
The Hummer pulled farther ahead, but the white truck came to a halt in front of her. Dietrich climbed down from the driver’s seat. The man in the passenger’s seat made his way to the back of the truck.
Tatiana strode up to Dietrich. “You’re late.”
“It could not be avoided. There was heavy wind. I had to force the pilot to land.”
Tatiana waved away his words. “I don’t want excuses. Where are they?”
Dietrich led the way to the back of the truck. Tatiana followed him, her anticipation growing. For decades, they had searched for the Council’s betrayal. When they had first settled this planet, they had agreed that the humans would be modified to contain a mixture of all of their DNA. The Council believed it would keep them safe.
Tatiana smiled. But we found a way around that. The small amount of Draco DNA within the human genome was incredibly powerful. It had allowed them to find allies over the years, people interested in furthering their own narcissistic goals, even to the detriment of the community they allegedly served, allowing them to establish a foothold in many lucrative areas, ranging from government to the financial world to the entertainment industry.