ANOMALY.MIL (The Conspiracy Series Book One): A Romantic Suspence Novel

by Samantha Saxon

  The man lifted his gun toward Win, but the woman said, "No."

  Win threw a forearm at her face but she spun around, punching him in the right kidney. He groaned, stunned that a woman could hit so hard.

  He dropped to one knee, and before she could react, he swept her legs out from under her. The woman fell flat on her back with a satisfying thud as he brought down both fists. But she had already rolled out of the way, and his fists slammed into the hard concrete floor.

  This isn't possible. She was too fast, too strong.

  She was on his back, and then he was on the ground. He rolled to the left to get on top of her, but she used his own weight to keep his momentum going.

  The woman spun as they rolled, and then she was squeezing her knees around his left arm. Fuck! She threw her body backward, and Win realized too late that he was in an arm bar, right before she dislocated his elbow with a loud snap.

  The pain was blinding, and he could barely breathe. The woman stood up, pointing at his dead friend, "Bury that one in the desert."

  Drew. His name was Drew.

  "Get up," she ordered, showing no signs of exertion from their combat. "And if you come at me again, Sergeant Caffrey, I'll kill you, too."

  He had no doubt of it.

  "Where are you taking me?" he growled, holding the weight of his damaged arm as he stood.

  "To the brig." Her smile was cruel. "Who better to tell Sergeant Babineaux of the death of his friend, than the man who caused it?"

  Win's head snapped round, his jaw clenched as he stared at her, promising, "I'm going to kill you."

  The woman laughed, motioning him forward. "Not today Sergeant Caffrey. Not today."

  CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

  The general finished reading the psychologist’s report on Heidi Johnson, and he was concerned. The child's transition was not going as well as he had hoped, and he wasn't sure what to do about it.

  She wasn't eating, she wasn't sleeping, and her tutor had just given up trying to teach her anything.

  The little boy from Salt Lake City had tried to befriend her. But as the kid had no parents, he did not comprehend the depth of Heidi's grief. It was a difficult thing to lose a parent, and the general sympathized with the little girl, but there was no point in sugarcoating the mother’s death.

  Of course, he could always tell Kevin Kilgore that he was Heidi's father. But what purpose would that serve? The man never wanted to be her father in the first place. And if he rejected the girl again, it could have dire consequences. Not only for Heidi's health, but for the future of the program he was trying so hard to build.

  Frustrated, the general poured himself some coffee, then glanced at the clock mounted above his door. It was nearly seven thirty. By now, the girl would be awake and sitting in her room waiting to be taken to breakfast.

  She would be tired, hungry and truthful. So, he decided to see the child's progress for himself.

  "At ease," the general said to the two young guards who had just come on duty in the barracks.

  He pushed the door open, gaining the attention of three of the adults as they watched the morning newscast. They stared at him with anger in their eyes as he walked across the large room, having yet to accept that this was now their home, their obligation.

  "Morning," he nodded at them to no response, not that he was expecting one. Nor did he care.

  The children with the anomaly were far more important to the program. Not only could they be harvested, they could be taught. Be taught to understand their value to this country. Be modified to become the perfect soldiers, and raised to accept their lot in life.

  But first, they needed to be healthy.

  The general peeked in the square glass window of the girl's room. He saw her sitting on the floor, working on a brightly colored puzzle. She was small and thin, and had huge dark circles under her big blue eyes. It was unacceptable, and something needed to be done.

  He knocked on the door and the girl jumped onto her bed, scrabbling to get under the covers before anyone entered the room.

  "Hello, Heidi," he said in soothing tones.

  The girl was wary, which was understandable. She did not know him. When he had taken her in South Dakota, she had been asleep, and then they had given her a light sedative on the plane to keep her that way.

  "My name is General Hawkins, and I run this place," he said, and the girl hunkered down even more. The general smiled. "I came to see if you were all right and to ask you a question."

  Suspicion pulled her delicate brown brows together.

  "Do you need some more puzzles?" he asked, looking at the half finished puzzle on the ground. So did she.

  The girl nodded, slowly. Progress.

  "What about books? Do you need more books?" She shook her head and he laughed, sitting on the corner of her bed. "You don't like to read?"

  "I don't like homework," Heidi whispered, hugging her knees to her chest as if she might get in trouble for saying so.

  "I never liked homework eith—" His phone rang. Shit. He glanced at the number. Sergeant Munoz. "I'm sorry Heidi. I need to answer this phone call." He touched the button, and lifted the phone to his ear. "General Hawkins."

  "General?" Inez sounded…happy.

  He stood up and walked to the opposite corner of the room. "What is it?"

  "They're here." She didn't need to explain who 'they' were. "I killed Stockton, and took Caffrey into custody. He's injured." And then as a form of explanation, she added, "They were coming for the woman."

  "And Captain Holstad?" The general put himself in the captain's shoes. "Where is he?"

  "Unknown, sir. However, I did send a team to Sergeant Babineaux's cell."

  "Good." It was where he would go if he were the captain. A simultaneous infiltration. "Put out a base wide alert—"

  "Already done, sir," his protégé said, and he smiled, proud that he had taught her so well.

  The general glanced over at his new project, who just stared back at him with wide eyes.

  "Also, I want the guards on the sister doubled. If Captain Holstad does manage to get Babineaux out of the brig and then fails to make contact with the rest of his team, they might come for her."

  "Very good, sir."

  Inez started to hang up but he stopped her. "And Sergeant Munoz."

  "Yes, sir?"

  The general switched his phone to his other hand, whispering, "Was it absolutely necessary to kill Sergeant Stockton?" She paused and he growled, "This is becoming a habit with you, Sergeant." One which he needed to address. "Let me know when you've captured Captain Holstad." He made sure to add, "And the captain better be alive and unharmed when you bring him to me."

  "Yes, sir."

  The general hung up, and turned to the little girl. "Heidi, remember I said I wanted to ask you a question?" The girl nodded, tentative. "Well, what if I got you something better than a toy."

  "Candy?" she asked, and he smiled.

  "Even better than candy." The girl's eyes grew even bigger as she tried to imagine anything better than candy. "What if I got you…" The general leaned forward, so he could better gauge the girl's reaction. "A puppy." She gasped, her little mouth hanging open. "Would you like a puppy?"

  "Yes." The girl was animated, happy for the first time since arriving at the base.

  "Now," the general warned. "You will need to take care of the puppy. Walk him, and feed him. Do you think you can do that? Are you old enough to take care of a puppy?"

  "I'm seven," Heidi offered, as if this were some ringing endorsement.

  "Okay, Ms. Johnson." The girl smiled, feeling very adult. "We'll get you a puppy."

  And if the girl refused to eat, neither would the dog.

  CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

  Ansel walked to the hospital with his hands handcuffed behind his back, just like every other time he had gone. Only this time, it was Gunner who was leading him there.

  "Morning." Gunner lifted his chin toward the two clerks sitting behind
the hospital desk. Fortunately for him, the two clerks were women. "Uh." Gunner hemmed and hawed, flashing those baby blues. "This is kind of embarrassing. I'm new to the base and I need to get this guy to X-ray, but… I forgot where it is."

  "Oh," the younger woman jumped up, smiling. "No wonder you can't find it. You're in the wrong building. X-ray is next door." She started to come around the desk, saying, "I'd be happy to show you."

  Shit.

  "Oh, no." Gunner lifted his hand. "I'm sure you ladies have better things to do. I'll find it. So, it’s the building to the right of us?"

  "That's right."

  "Thanks so much," Gunner grinned. "I'll be sure to look for you the next time I get lost."

  He grabbed Ansel's upper arm and guided him down the hospital’s long hallways, but his eyes were firmly fixed on the double doors leading outside. Once they were there, Gunner could take the handcuffs off. And then they would rendezvous with Drew, Win and, hopefully, Catherine.

  Fifty more feet. A nurse came around the corner, but she didn't look up from her chart. Thirty. Gunner looked behind them, but no one was following. Twenty. Ten.

  Ansel smiled with relief as Gunner pushed open the outer doors, but his smile died when they were confronted by ten armed soldiers. His new body reacted, kicking the nearest guy in the chest and landing safely on his own left shoulder.

  "Go," he shouted at his friend. They wouldn't shoot him, but they might shoot Gunner.

  Ansel rolled on his back, slipping his legs through his cuffed wrists so his arms were in front of his body. He hit a guy in the face with his bound hands, and he could feel the guy's nose break. He watched as Gunner kicked a guy in the stomach, and Ansel began to panic.

  "Go!"

  Gunner stood his ground, kicking another guy in the chest. A soldier raised his nine millimeter toward his friend, and Ansel did the only thing that would save his friend's life.

  "I surrender." He dropped to his knees, raising his hands above his head. "I surrender."

  Shocked, Gunner turned to look at him. And the guy he had kicked in the chest hit Gunner in the head with his sidearm. His friend crumpled, a dead weight as he fell to the ground.

  But at least Gunner was alive.

  The man in charge looked down at Ansel, ordering, "Take them to the brig."

  Them. His heart sank. Gunner had risked his life for him, and now he was going to prison for the rest of it.

  Nine of the ten soldiers escorted them back to the brig, while the tenth went to have his nose set. Work in the hospital came to a stop as groups gathered to watch the two soldiers dragging Gunner down the hall. Ansel followed at gunpoint, and that's when the whispering started like a tidal wave, building in volume and following in their wake.

  They took the last turn on their way to the brig, and Ansel just stared at the familiar green door. The first soldier opened it with a clank and then dragged Gunner in, dropping him to the floor. A hard shove in the back propelled Ansel into his familiar cell, but he felt disoriented when he looked at his bed.

  "Win?" He shouldn't be here, and his arm was in a fresh cast. "Does Drew have Catherine?"

  And then he saw the look on Win's face. "Drew's dead."

  They just stared at each other for a long time, before Ansel turned away and punched the metal door until his knuckles bled.

  "How?" was all he could manage when he turned back.

  "A woman." Win's jaw clenched. "She knew who we were."

  Sergeant Munoz. "Hispanic?"

  "Yeah," Win snarled. "The bitch smiled at me. Smiled. And then she shot Drew in the back of the head." Just like his parents. "I'm telling you, she enjoyed it."

  Ansel raised his left arm. "She sure as hell enjoyed shooting me."

  "I'm going to kill her," Win announced, and he meant it.

  Ansel pointed at Win's cast. "What did she do to you?"

  "Put me in an arm bar, until my elbow snapped."

  Ansel cringed. "Fuck!" That had to have been excruciating.

  "She was stronger than me, Ansel. Faster too." Win got off the bed and walked to the bloody green door, running his functioning hand over the dent Ansel had just made. "What are they doing to you?"

  “‘Modifying’ me."

  "Good." Win turned around, wiping Ansel's blood on his pant leg.

  "How could their modifying me with someone else's DNA possibly be 'good'?"

  "Because," Win grinned "you'll be stronger than her."

  He hadn't thought of that. He didn't want to think about any of it. "I thought you were going to kill her."

  "Oh, I am," Win said, "But now I won't feel bad about using you for bait."

  Ansel nodded, too emotionally drained to smile.

  "I'm sorry." Ansel looked Win in the eye. "I'm sorry you came for me. Sorry that Drew—"

  "We knew the risks." And then he said one the thing Ansel needed to hear. "All of us."

  Ansel's throat closed so he just nodded, unable to thank him any other way.

  "What happened to him?" Win pointed at Gunner.

  "Pistol whipped," Ansel explained. "Dumbass had a chance to get away, but he wouldn't leave without me."

  "Yeah," Win sighed. "The captain has always been into that ‘band of brothers’ bullshit."

  "So, you’re saying you would've left me?" Ansel asked, knowing better.

  "In a heartbeat," Win lied.

  Gunner groaned and they both looked at the man lying on the cell floor.

  "You tell him about Drew," Win said.

  Ansel turned his head to look Win in the eye, seeing only pain. "Why me?"

  "Because I had to tell you."

  CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

  Seneca glanced at her watch for the hundredth time. Nine fifteen.

  "Are you expecting someone?" The waitress at the hotel restaurant smiled down at her, and Seneca shook her head.

  "No," she said. "It's just me."

  "What can I get you to drink?"

  "Water is fine."

  The waitress left, and Seneca glanced around the room. Pleasant conversations were taking place as happy families ate breakfast together, completely oblivious to the precipice she teetered on.

  "Here you go." The waitress was back, setting down her water and spilling a little on the side of the square table.

  "Thanks." The woman didn't leave and Seneca looked up, wondering what she wanted, and then it dawned on her. "Do you have an omelet?" Seneca asked, because she hadn't even looked at the menu.

  "Sure." The waitress gave her a practiced smile. "You want pancakes with that?"

  "Okay." She didn't care.

  The waitress left and Seneca realized that this was a mistake. She had spent the last two hours on pins and needles, and she just needed to get out of her room. She checked her phone again, but there were still no messages.

  When she gave Gunner those blueprints, he had promised to call when they had Catherine and Ansel safely off the base.

  But Gunner hadn't called.

  Seneca rubbed her temples, because she was being ridiculous. It was too soon. It had only been a few hours since they breached the base, and she was sure Gunner had more pressing matters to deal with than calling her.

  Like what?

  Her mind was running amuck, and she was happy when the waitress brought her an enormous breakfast to focus on. Seneca cut the omelet, then cracked a little bit of pepper over the large plate. She took a bite and was surprised by how good it was. She added hot sauce, but she didn't really taste it.

  Seneca lifted the fork to her mouth as she watched the morning news. The Middle East, a local bus fare increase, and a long list of basketball scores. Not a single word about the battle taking place just eighty miles away, the outcome of which would change her life forever.

  "Does it taste alright?" The waitress was back.

  "I'm sorry?" Seneca was confused.

  "You haven't eaten very much." The smell of coffee drifted up to her as the woman freshened her cup with the pot in her right ha
nd. "So, I was wondering if it tasted—"

  "It's fine." Because it didn't matter.

  "You want anything else?"

  Seneca did think of something she wanted. "Do you have any red wine?" she asked.

  Anything to calm her nerves.

  "Uh, ma'am, it's nine o'clock in the morning." The waitress looked concerned.

  "I know, but I just flew from Asia so I didn’t sleep well," Seneca lied. "And with the time zone difference, this is actually my dinner."

  "Oh. Okay." The woman nodded, put a little more at ease. "Let me just ask my manager if we can serve you this early. Red you said?"

  "Yes, thanks."

  The woman came back a few minutes later, smiling. "He said we can't serve you here, but we could send a bottle of wine to your room." She leaned forward, whispering, "It’s a liability issue."

  "No problem." Seneca did not care where she drank. "Just put a bottle on my bill and send it up, and thank the manager for me."

  Honestly, she could kiss the man.

  Seneca ate a little more, but mostly she stared at the TV while she waited to sign the check. It was ten o'clock by the time she opened the door to her room. As soon as the door slammed shut, she collapsed against it.

  Gunner should have called by now. Their whole plan was based upon speed. For the team to get in and get out, before anyone realized that they were there.

  So, if Gunner hadn't called…

  The bottle of wine was already there, and she tore her room apart looking for the bottle opener. Seneca grabbed the first glass she could find, a fat little thing she could barely get her hand around, but she filled it to the rim.

  Seneca took a large swig then walked to her bed and turned on the news. Tears welled in her eyes, and she drank some more. Three glasses of wine. She was cold, so she got under the covers, making sure that her cell phone never left her.

  She must have fallen asleep, because her phone woke her up. It rang again and she opened her eyes, surprised to find herself in a huge bed, then she remembered she was in a hotel. The phone rang again and she searched for it beneath layers of bedding.

  "Gunner?" she said, sitting up. What time was it? She looked at the clock. Shit! It was almost four in the afternoon.