Red Awakening (Red Zone)

by Janet Elizabeth Henderson

  Because she was going to die.

  A hand rested on her shoulder, and she looked up to find the polite man watching her.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I was wrong. None of this is worth your life. I-I was hurt. Bitter. I believe in Freedom. But not in this.” His face was a picture of devastation as he looked around the terrace, as though he were seeing the damage he’d wrought for the first time.

  With the silencer across her mouth, she couldn’t answer him. But, strangely, she understood. She could see how easy it would be to get caught up in the fight against the people you blamed for taking it all. Yes, she definitely understood. So she nodded at him and hoped he saw it for what it was—forgiveness.

  “Get the cameras ready,” Susan shouted across the terrace. “It’s time to contact the great Miss Shepherd, and I don’t think she’ll have what we want.” Her cold smile fell on Keiko. “Your death will be on her shoulders. It will show the world that CommTECH cares nothing for its people, not even its precious press secretary.”

  The hand on her shoulder tightened at the words, and Keiko did the only thing left in her power to do. She stared at the woman who would kill her, letting Susan Neal see her defiance. She would not die cowed. She would not die intimidated and afraid. She poured her disdain, her judgment, and her pity into her gaze.

  And Susan was the first to look away.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Enforcement Special Response Unit

  CommTECH Research Facility terrace

  Houston, Northern Territory

  Daniel Mercer reached the doors leading out to the terrace and held up a fist, signaling for his team to wait and remain silent. They would advance on Miriam’s signal and not before.

  Behind him, in the entrance to an office, a grunt sounded, then a thud. Charles had dispatched the last Freedom fighter on this level. And, as usual, he’d taken his time doing it. Daniel glanced over to see his brother swagger out of the office, wiping the blade of his knife on the thigh of his pants. His face held an approximation of a smile. It was the only time he attempted the expression. After he killed.

  “Is it time yet?” Charles said as he came to stand beside Daniel.

  “Nearly.” He glanced at his brother, only to see that Charles’s focus was on something beyond the door to the terrace.

  Daniel didn’t have to look to know that he was staring at the press secretary. Keiko Sato had been on his brother’s radar from the moment they’d joined CommTECH.

  “After,” Daniel reminded him. “We get the job done first.” And hopefully, while he was doing his job, he could spare Keiko Sato from becoming Charles’s next victim.

  “Of course.” Charles inclined his head, his eyes still on his prey.

  A hologram flickered into place in front of Susan Neal, and Miriam Shepherd smiled benignly. It was their cue to get ready. Once Miriam gave the signal, all that mattered was the job—secure the data, eliminate the enemy.

  And, if possible, kill Keiko Sato swiftly before his brother had a chance to get his hands on her and prolong her agony.

  “One day…” Charles muttered, greed in his eyes.

  This time Daniel followed his gaze and saw he was focused on the CommTECH CEO.

  “No.” Daniel was firm.

  His brother’s dark, blank eyes met his.

  Daniel wasn’t intimidated. He knew his brother would never touch him. There was no game without him. And Charles dearly loved his game.

  “Miriam is off-limits,” Daniel said. “We agreed.”

  That mockery of a smile appeared again. “For now.”

  As Daniel watched Miriam dismiss the terrorists, he wondered what Charles saw when he looked at her. Did he see a victim? Or did he see a partner?

  The world would shudder if it was the latter.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Freedom

  CommTECH Research Facility terrace

  Houston, Northern Territory

  A transparent image of Susan’s nemesis appeared in front of her. As usual, Miriam was dressed in cream-colored silk, as though her clothes were an attempt to whitewash her sins.

  “Have you reached the board? Is there a date set for a general election?” Susan knew the answer to each question before she asked it.

  “I’m afraid not,” the ice queen said in a tone that indicated her minions should be grateful she’d graced them with her presence.

  Unfortunately for Miriam, Susan had never been anyone’s minion. She was the leader—of her business, of her team, of her Freedom cell. She bowed to no one.

  “What you’re asking for is a fundamental change in the way this territory is governed,” Miriam said, as though Susan was too stupid to know this. “I’ve already told you. These things can’t be changed in a matter of hours.”

  Susan smiled with triumph. “Then you can say goodbye to your press secretary.”

  She stepped to the side to allow CommTECH’s CEO a clear view of the bound and kneeling star of their media presence.

  “Such a pity.” Miriam’s voice was cold. “It’s so difficult to find a press secretary who’s of any use these days. Still, Ms. Sato lasted longer than most.”

  Susan glanced behind her shoulder to see if Keiko had heard just how much CommTECH appreciated her. From her wide eyes and pale face, she most certainly had. It was a delightful sight.

  “The truth is”—Miriam’s cool voice brought her attention back to the hologram—“there isn’t anyone you can kill who will move the mountain you want to be moved. CommTECH runs this territory. We have done so for decades. Do you honestly think one hostage situation with a ragtag band of misfits who don’t even have the official backing of Freedom will change our rule?” She looked at Susan’s face and then laughed. “My dear, you do believe it. You are far more foolish than I thought.” She brushed an imaginary piece of lint off her immaculate trouser suit in a gesture that dismissed Susan and everything she stood for.

  Rage exploded within Susan, and she took a step toward the hologram. “Listen, you psycho bitch. Your rule is at an end. The world loves your press secretary, and they’ll know exactly who’s to blame when she dies in front of them. You, Miriam. You.”

  If Miriam was bothered by her outburst, it didn’t show. Instead, she looked off to one side and nodded to someone in her office. When she looked back, her eyes were flat. Like a shark. Like a predator. Like someone who knew they’d won.

  “Goodbye, Ms. Neal,” Miriam said. “This will be our last communication. I’m afraid I’ve wasted enough of my valuable time dealing with you and your pathetic attempt to take on CommTECH. It’s time for this to end.”

  The image blinked out as her words registered. Susan’s eyes flew to the doors into the building as they burst open. Men in SWAT gear rushed out.

  Enforcement.

  “Call for pickup!” she screamed at the man beside the comm unit.

  Susan lifted her weapon to fire at the army who poured out onto the terrace.

  But it was too late.

  In the midst of the chaos, two small grenades landed at her feet. She had time to look up at the ledge above her to see who’d thrown them.

  The reporter who’d run with Keiko smiled down at her.

  And then her world exploded.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Red Zone Warriors surveillance van

  Four blocks from CommTECH Research Center

  Houston, Northern Territory

  “Striker, I’ve intercepted a communication from the terrace,” Hunter said as he typed furiously at his keyboard.

  Striker signaled for silence as a man’s voice filled the air.

  “Pickup now! I repeat. Pickup now! Enforcement has attacked. Pickup now!”

  “We’re on our way.”

  “There’s no way out. Damn it!” he shouted. “I’m shot. Get to the terrace. West side. Hurry. There’s—”

  A deafening explosion cut the communication.

  Sandi pushed past her team, threw
the van doors open, and burst out, her eyes on the CommTECH building in the distance. Striker, Friday, and Gray followed. There were flames on the sixty-sixth-floor terrace.

  “Get back in here,” Hunter shouted. “I’ve got Mace.”

  They scrambled into the van.

  “Mace?” Striker snapped as he rushed to Hunter’s side.

  “We’re stuck in a war zone.” The comm line was scratchy, the words hard to understand, but it was definitely him. “The signal jammer’s damaged.”

  Relief surge through Striker at the sound of his best friend’s voice. He felt Friday press her face into his back and curl her fists into his shirt, and he glanced over at Sandi, who blinked rapidly and turned her face away.

  “Position,” Striker demanded.

  “On the terrace. It’s a mess. Freedom and Enforcement. Picking each other off. I need a path out of here.” There was static. “—EMP. Got to get it off her.”

  “Sandi, Ignacio,” Striker said to his two team members, but they were already out the door and running.

  “Jeremiah and Zane are covering the front of the building,” Striker said over the comm system that connected his entire team. “Gray’s got a team covering the back. Sandi? What’s your target?”

  “We’re going for the Freedom bird.” The roar of her bike’s engine filled the background. “It will give us an option at terrace level.”

  “We got a location for that bird?” Striker asked Hunter, knowing he would have traced the signal from the terrace to the recipient.

  “She’s already got it.” His attention was on the screen filled with code in front of him. “I’m grounding the bird until she gets there. It’s a class-four shuttle, currently parked on top of the Righteous Center.”

  Basically, it was a car with wings that folded in when not in use to allow it to be garaged. It was meant for private use within the city limits. It would be small and nimble enough to negotiate getting close to the terrace but ill-equipped to deal with any fire it might take.

  “She needs air cover,” Striker said. “I’ll take up our chopper.”

  Friday gasped and slid around to his front. Her eyes were wide. “You can’t. You can’t be seen by Enforcement. They’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

  “Bébé, if Sandi and Ignacio don’t have backup in the air, they’ll get shot down. It’s a civilian vehicle—a handgun could bring it down. Someone has to protect their asses.”

  “Why didn’t they just take the helicopter?” Friday’s voice was pleading, begging him to stay on the sidelines and let his team take the risk.

  He brushed her blond hair from her face, staring into her mismatched eyes, loving that they were a mirror of his. “The chopper is farther away. The Freedom shuttle would have made it to the terrace before they got to the chopper. This way, they take the shuttle out of the equation and get there faster.”

  Friday’s eyes closed tight for a second before they snapped open. In them, he saw the force of will he loved. “Do. Not. Get. Hurt.”

  “Chère, don’cha know? I’m invincible.”

  “You’re infuriating, that’s what you are.” She went on tiptoe to press a desperate kiss to his lips.

  His woman. He kissed her hard, wending his fingers through her hair, holding her close to him.

  “Say it,” she said, her eyes drugged from wanting him.

  Hunter snickered, but Striker gave her what she wanted.

  “I’ll be back,” he said.

  She nodded solemnly as Hunter laughed hard. Striker should never have let her watch the Terminator movies. With a nod to Hunter, leaving him to coordinate their efforts, Striker ran for his bike.

  Chapter Forty

  Miriam Shepherd had thrown Keiko to the wolves without even a backward glance in her direction. Her life meant nothing to CommTECH, just like the lives of everyone else on the terrace. Because as soon as Miriam’s hologram had flickered out, Enforcement had appeared. They were everywhere, pouring out of the woodwork, an army of black-clad soldiers in masks and armed to the teeth. They weren’t there to rescue her or anyone else; they were there to kill the Freedom fighters and take back the building. Mace had been right all along—all CommTECH cared about was the research data.

  In horror, she watched as a firefight broke out in front of her. She had to get out of there before she was shot. With her hands tied behind her and her mouth gagged, getting to her feet would be hard. But she’d do it. She had to.

  And she would have done it if the terrace hadn’t exploded.

  The force of the blast sent her flying backward, landing hard on her bound arms. She screamed, but the silencer over her mouth swallowed the sound. Smoke billowed around her. People shouted, whimpered, screamed, cried. Each sound punctuated by rifle blasts.

  She felt someone behind her. Hands fumbling at her wrists. She blinked against the smoke that stung her eyes and twisted to see who it was.

  It was the polite man who’d delivered her into Susan’s hands. “I’ll free you, but then you’re on your own.”

  She felt the snick that signaled the release of her bound wrists. He leaned over her and reached for the silencer.

  “I’m sorry,” he said as tears ran down his cheeks. “I should never have done this. I should never have gotten involved. This isn’t right.”

  He never got a chance to remove the gag. A blast hit him in the chest and sent him flying into Rueben Granger, who wailed like a siren. There was no time to feel shock at his brutal death. With weak arms, she reached for the gag. But before she could touch it, something came out of the smoke, moving fast, heading straight for her face. Her hands shot out to defend herself as the black object came back at her. She ducked her head, and it skimmed over her. And that’s when she realized what it was—Mace’s bat.

  It turned in the air before swooping back at her. She had no idea what it was doing or why it was attacking her, but she wouldn’t do anything to harm it. She held up her hand to block its approach, but it swerved and dropped to her head. Claws dug into her scalp. And with a cry of pain, she covered her head, ready for another attack that didn’t come. Cautiously, she peeked through her hands, only to see the bat flying away from the terrace—with the EMP band in its clutches.

  Keiko touched her head to make sure she wasn’t hallucinating. No. It was really gone. The bat had taken it. There was no time to think about it. No time to wonder. She tore the gag from her mouth as all around her people screamed and ran. They tripped over their fallen friends and enemies as the expensive Mexican tiles ran with blood.

  An Enforcement agent crushed the skull of a Freedom fighter with a blow from the butt of his weapon. A Freedom fighter blasted an Enforcement agent in the face. A shot hit someone at the edge of the terrace, sending them toppling over the broken wall, screaming into the night. Bodies were strewn everywhere, like broken toys a child had dropped from above when they’d finished playing with them. People trampled the fallen underfoot as they ran for their lives.

  It was hell. She was in hell.

  “Help me! Don’t just sit there. Free me!” The voice tore through the shock that had her frozen in place, and she turned to find Rueben Granger wedged behind the large wooden podium and fighting his way out from under the fallen Freedom fighter.

  “Rueben.” She crawled to him.

  “Help me.” His call was desperate. His eyes wide and manic with shock.

  Keiko bit her lip to stop from crying as she pushed at the body of the man who’d captured and freed her. He rolled off Rueben, hitting the tile with a dull, lifeless thud.

  “Free my hands,” he screeched at her, drawing her eyes from the dead man.

  “Don’t shout. You’ll attract attention.” She unstrapped the EMP band first before reaching for his bound hands, careful to keep them close to the podium. It wouldn’t offer much protection from stray laser fire, but it would hide them from anyone looking for a target.

  “We’re going to die,” he wailed. “We’re all going to die. Did
n’t they see me here? Didn’t Miriam know I was here? I’m too important to die. Help me. Get me out of these restraints.”

  “Stop it,” Keiko snapped at him. “You have to be quiet.”

  The bands around his wrists needed a thumbprint to open. Her stomach roiled at what she was about to do, but the only print she knew would do the job belonged to the dead man lying beside them.

  “What are you waiting for?” Rueben shouted. “Hurry up. I’m too valuable to die here.”

  “I will slap you if you don’t stop shouting. You’re going to get us both killed. Calm down and be quiet.”

  His eyes went wide, and his bottom lip trembled, making Keiko feel like she’d kicked a puppy. With shaking fingers and bile burning her throat, Keiko reached for the dead man’s hand. All she had to do was hold his thumb against the release window on the cuffs. That was it. That was all she had to do. Her stomach roiled, and she felt light-headed.

  Take a deep breath. Focus. You can do this. The pep talk didn’t help. The man was barely dead. She’d just been talking to him. This was wrong. So wrong.

  “Help me,” Rueben shouted. “Somebody help me. She can’t do it. Help me.”

  “That’s it.” She slapped the silencer that had been over her mouth over his.

  He fell mercifully quiet. Keiko took a deep breath and reached for the dead man. She gagged as her fingers skimmed the back of his hand. He was still warm. Shaking, she ordered herself to take hold of him, but her body wouldn’t comply. She blinked back tears—from the smoke or the horror, she didn’t know which—and tried again.

  A strong hand grasped her wrist, making her jump.

  “I’ll do it,” a voice said.

  Her eyes shot up, but she didn’t quite trust what they showed her. “Mace?”

  “Hey, princess.” His small smile was devastating. “Miss me?”

  “Mace!” She launched herself into his arms, expecting him to catch her. And he did. His strength wrapping around her like armor, protecting her from the violence all around them.

  There was a thumping, and she looked down to find Rueben kicking the podium to get their attention.