Rescue (The Alliance Chronicles Book 2)

by SF Benson

  Asher nods. “I know.”

  “If he says one thing out of line… just one thing…”

  “I know.” He takes a deep breath. “We leave as soon as it gets dark. I’m going to check on Ko.”

  I hold my hand up. “Wait. We need to finish talking about Leon and Griffin.”

  “What about them?”

  “Griffin mentioned The Network. Hear of it?”

  “Yeah. It’s a splinter group. Used to be part of the Alliance. Some of the members had a difference of opinion about how things should be run. They’re better equipped with much better intel. The Network rivals the Alliance in size. They want a major confrontation with the New Order where the Alliance is comfortable with a peaceful exchange.”

  “They’re planning for war?”

  “Yup.” His head bobs up and down. “This one won’t just be confined to the AR. It gets worse.”

  “How?” I ask.

  “Mark said that Leon’s the leader of the Network.”

  “Fuck.” The only good thing to come out of that experience is I walked away with the card. “Tell me about Griffin. You said you served with him.”

  Asher frowns and then shrugs his shoulders. “Story in a nutshell… Griffin refused to report to duty. I was on the team assigned to bring him in. Things got ugly. His wife and unborn child were killed. He landed in North Woods. Dude’s always been trouble, though. Stability issues, and he drinks too much.”

  I open my mouth to say something else, but Asher stops me.

  “I need to check on Ko. End of discussion.”

  “Patriotism means getting your inoculation!”

  —A communiqué from the Bureau of Homeland Protection

  Tru

  Holden surprises me and makes good on his promise, starting with the alarm clock and a meal—real steak, tiny parslied potatoes, and a salad with crisp vegetables—served on a gold-edged china plate.

  The food satisfies my body. Can’t say the same for my mind, which is on high alert. Why didn’t I get more of a fight from Holden about retrieving my stuff? His eagerness for me to show my appreciation unnerves me.

  Doctor Aoki continues to mystify me. At times, she acts like she wants to be my friend, but it’s too obvious the good doctor wants something. What? I don’t know. But that’s not what troubles me. The biggest question I have is why would a parent want someone to believe the worst about their kid?

  It’s nearly midnight. Holden’s either close to New Detroit or he’s returned. My life would be easier if I’m in New Toledo, a lot easier to cross the border back into Michigan. In an hour I’d be… the ‘A’ Tower would never be home again. If I’m in the UP, however, getting back to New Detroit would take longer. My hope is I’m in, of all places, Ohio territory.

  The door bursts open. Speak of the devil. Light pours in from the hall. The overhead lamp flicks on.

  I squelch my disappointment. Wrong demon. It’s La Mohína. She’s in dark jeans, a thick sweater, and high-heeled boots. The scowling beauty drags the chair from the corner and sits down.

  It’s too late for an interrogation session. I squint against the bright lights. “What do you want now?”

  “To solve my curiosity.” She crosses her arms and legs.

  “About? I’m drained after being in the White Room. I’d like to get some sleep.”

  She hesitates. “What happened between you and my son?”

  I sit up and fold my arms over my stomach. “Seriously? Sorry, that’s personal.”

  “Indulge me,” she pleads. “I just want to know how he’s doing.”

  Am I supposed to care about her feelings? What she did… what both of his parents did was shitty. Zared needed them, but they were both too wrapped up in their own agendas. Why the sudden interest?

  I draw my legs in and rest my arms on my knees. This woman doesn’t deserve to know anything about him.

  How can you afford to be judgmental? It cost you your family. She’s only asking how he’s doing, nothing else.

  “He’s fine,” I say with reserve.

  She continues speaking like she didn’t hear me. “I’m not proud of the things I’ve done, but it’s history. I haven’t seen my son in years. Did he ever speak of me?”

  “Zared told me you contracted the Virus and died. He didn’t like talking about you.”

  My words hit her hard. Her vibrant complexion pales. She closes her eyes and presses a hand to her chest. I’m waiting for tears… something… anything. Instead, she tosses her head back and rises to her feet.

  “Excuse you, lady. I’m not finished.” She won’t leave without answering my question.

  La Mohína lets out a loud breath. “What is it?”

  “You worked with my mother. Why did she create Intrepid?”

  Her shoulders droop. “Whoever told you she created Intrepid either lied or didn’t have their facts straight. Intrepid was just part of our mission.”

  “Mission?” I sputter. Zared said Mom created Intrepid. More damned secrets and lies. Why does this surprise me?

  She returns to the chair. “We were part of a rebel force against the government. We—”

  “The Alliance?”

  “All you need to know, right now”—her voices shakes slightly—“is your mother tried her best to protect you.”

  “I needed the truth,” I interject. “Her protection put me in danger.”

  “No. Telling you about Tomás would have put you in danger.”

  “You’re just as clueless as she was. Lies, secrets… those things put me and Zared at risk. If you wanted to keep us protected, you should have tried honesty,” I snap back.

  La Mohína narrows her eyes. “Would you have believed us if we told you?”

  “You should have tried. I lost my family. I’m sitting in a damn prison. Is this better for me? Parents are supposed to—”

  “Protect,” she says quietly. “Your biological father was second in command. He was a man with a mark on his back. If anyone had known you were his daughter, your life would have been in danger. Gabriela did her best to keep that life hidden from you. It’s why she changed her name and took a mediocre job. The lies, the secrets… those things kept you alive.”

  I recoil as if she slapped me. Her revelation casts a new light on my life. Guilt blooms in my stomach and I’m speechless.

  La Mohína stands. “Get some sleep.”

  “Wake up AR. Men, women, children your very lives depend on rejecting Inoculation Day.”

  —From The Alliance Manifesto

  Tru

  “One…two…three…”

  A dull thud interrupts my new daily routine—pushups, situps, and jumping jacks followed by a few sets of basic jabs, crosses, and uppercuts. Just something to keep my mind sharp.

  I see a black duffel bag and then the brown leather loafers. My eyes slide up—jeans, white thermal t-shirt… it’s Holden. I scramble to my feet.

  “Good morning, Tru.” He points at the bag. “The things you asked for…”

  I unzip the bag and find some of my clothes including my favorite high-heeled boots and red leather jacket. Underneath the clothing lie my iPod, sketchbook, and pencils.

  “Just remember who’s in control,” he says.

  The spiritless words send shivers up my spine. I murmur, “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” His reply is sincere.

  “Are you just getting back?”

  “Yes. It took longer than I anticipated.”

  My thoughts scatter like a disturbed pile of leaves. Reality kicks in. Holden was gone all night. Damn. I’m in the UP, too far to walk back to New Detroit. I’ll figure that out later. Right now, I need to know what I’ll owe Holden for retrieving my things.

  I zip the bag up and my eyes find Holden’s. A slew of questions dance on my tongue, but I swallow them.

  With an unexpected kindness, Holden asks, “Would you like to clean up? Maybe have a proper bath?”

  Oh my God, a bath… bubbles…
maybe even scented bath oil? It’s been a long time since I had a real bath. My grin can’t be contained.

  “I’ll take that as a yes,” he says.

  I follow him eagerly down the austere hall. This time, we walk in the opposite direction, distancing ourselves from the harsh chemical smells. We stop in front of a dark wooden door. Holden swipes a card, the door clicks, and he allows me to walk in first.

  My jaw and bag drop at the same time as I step into a five-star hotel room. Elegance surrounds me. The marble fireplace, black leather furniture, the king-sized bed… it’s unexpected. I run my hand along the dark linen upholstered wall leading to a huge bathroom. A stainless-steel circular soaking tub anchors one end of the room with a walk-in white tile shower, a black granite sink, and a water closet on the opposite end.

  “Do you like it?” Holden’s hot breath clings uncomfortably on my neck.

  Feeling defiled, I say, “It’s too much, Holden.”

  He reaches for my hand. I jerk it away before remembering my privileges came with a price. Gingerly, I place my hand in his and he leads me to the sofa.

  “Sit. Please.” He waits for me to do as he asked. “This is my room.”

  “Oh.” I won’t stay in this room with him. Not. Happening.

  He chuckles. “That’s all you can say? I thought I’d get an argument.”

  I take in the room’s opulence—the crystal chandelier, a dark fur blanket on the bed, the silky golden drapes. Time to cut to the chase. “Why am I here?”

  “You said you wanted a nicer room. I’m offering you mine,” he says with a mocking smile on his lips.

  “Where will you stay?” My stomach rolls. If he plans on a big pay off, I’ll hurl.

  His eyes dwell on my mouth. “I won’t deny having you here is deliciously tempting.”

  I shift in my seat and tug on my sleeves.

  He laughs to himself, my discomfort seeming to satisfy him. Holden slides closer to me and strokes a finger against my cheek. “There will be time for us, my dear. Besides, I know you’ll do whatever I want in order to keep Aoki alive.”

  The image of my skin sloughing off fills my mind. I utter, “What do you want from me?”

  “Keep up appearances.” His fingers thread through my hair. He grabs a fistful and tugs. “I’ll indulge you for a while, but when I say it’s time, we marry. Understood?”

  I bite my lip. My skin prickles with fear. “And if—”

  “If you’re dumb enough to break this promise, I’ll make sure you get to watch Aoki die.” Holden’s stare rattles me. He smiles. But his eyes are unreadable like a dark cavern. “Do I make myself perfectly clear?”

  I nod against his hand. My pulse flutters in my throat.

  He gazes at me openly. Discomforting. Daunting. Holden ogles me like a glass of wine at the Last Supper. I quake inside. It feels like I made a deal with Satan. My body says, run, while my mind says, sit tight and plan an escape.

  Holden drops his hand.

  I jump to my feet and walk to the fireplace, putting a welcome distance between us. “So what’s next? How do we play this?”

  “I like your idea. We do the dating thing. You’ll be my loving bride-to-be. I’ll see to your needs.” He’s standing behind me.

  When did he move?

  He rubs his hands over my arms. “You can see to my needs.”

  I stare into the roaring fire and chase away my disgust. Freedom and information are my needs. Those things require my survival. “I’ll cooperate.”

  He kisses my cheek, his lips lingering a second too long. “Make yourself comfortable, my love. Have a leisurely bath. I’ll see to it breakfast is prepared for us. What would you like? Pancakes? An omelet? Bacon and eggs?”

  Arsenic. A gun. My traitorous stomach growls. “Real bacon?”

  “Of course.” Amusement glints in his eyes. “And real orange juice?”

  “Yes.” I salivate like one of Pavlov’s dogs. Vengeance is best accomplished on a full stomach.

  “Good. I’ll be back in an hour.” Holden slides his arm around my waist. “You’ll see this will be a good arrangement for the both of us.”

  He places a light kiss on my mouth, stroking my neck with his finger. My mind screams, stay on-guard.

  “The CHA needs you. Get inoculated today.”

  —An announcement from the Centers for Human Advancement

  Tru

  Enjoying a luxurious, hot bubble bath is wrong, but it’s been a long time between showers. I slouch down in the tub, inhaling the sweet jasmine oil, and allow the sweltering water to nuzzle my body. My mind tells me not to get used to it, no matter how good it feels.

  Oh, but it’s tempting. The last bath I had was before we moved to the “A” Towers, the hellhole my family lived in after our security status changed. Restricted water usage, part of the Street Wars’ aftermath, made baths forbidden in most sectors. Not a big deal since our apartment only had shower stalls.

  Time to focus. Escaping this bizarre prison and finding Zared is my priority. Two problems, though. First, I don’t know where he is. Second, I don’t have a clue how to get out of here. Back on New Belle Isle, we orchestrated a plan together. Granted, it didn’t get us off the island, but we bounced ideas off each other. This is a solo mission.

  I towel off, put on my underwear, and ram my bare feet into a pair of jeans. I tug on a black t-shirt and exit the bathroom. The open curtains give me a glimpse at a barren wasteland covered in a thin blanket of snow. Another confirmation that I’m in the UP. It always snows here first.

  A lone scrap of a tree without a single snowflake on it inhabits a spot outside the window. The sugar maple, like myself, is out of place. It tries hard to stay authentic even though the surrounding coniferous forest says the confirm, give up its identity. In time, the tree will drop its leaves, a compromise. Unlike that tree, I won’t give even an inch. No matter what Holden has in mind.

  The savory smell of crisp hickory bacon, eggs full of melted Wisconsin cheddar, and fresh roasted coffee tickle my nose. Breakfast, served on fine china, waits for me on a table by the window. I sit down and put a healthy morsel in my mouth. I close my eyes and savor the buttery goodness, the sharp bite of the cheese. Pure heaven.

  Footsteps in the entryway grab my attention. My appetite dissipates as the Prince of Darkness enters the room. Holden, dressed in a crisp black button-down shirt and dark slacks, takes a seat across from me.

  “Is it to your liking?” He sips from an oversized red mug.

  “Yes, thank you.” My eyes are fixed on him as I eat, trying to decipher what he’s up to. Unfortunately, the only message I pick up from him is a lecherous one.

  “Don’t misread my generosity. I still need the card,” he points out.

  Of course, he does. I drop my fork. “Why? Who wants it?”

  He takes another sip of coffee. “Not your concern.”

  “I beg to differ,” I argue. “I told La Mohína I didn’t know what happened to it.”

  Holden smirks. “La Mohína?”

  “Dr. Aoki. It’s Spanish for grumpy one. The woman rarely smiles.”

  The amused expression never leaves his face. “Her name is Taa. Although accurate, she’d be disappointed in your assessment of her.”

  I move the eggs around on my plate. “Doesn’t matter. I don’t have the card.”

  He sets the mug on the table. “Who did you give it to?”

  “No one. I left it behind. Eden and her thugs showed up before I retrieved it.”

  “If you repeat that lie enough times, you might eventually believe it.” He dabs at his mouth. “I, on the other hand, believe otherwise.”

  A clutch of panic grips my stomach. The food stops in my throat.

  Holden drops his burgundy cloth napkin on his plate and stands. “As you said, it doesn’t matter. We have someone who might give us more information.”

  My mind runs wild with possibilities. Did they arrest Zared, too? Are Ko and Asher safe? I hide my shaky h
and in my lap. Words stick in my throat. I cough, trying to hide my nervousness. “What are you talking about?”

  “We picked up another operative. She’s in your old room.”

  Holden pulls a phone from his shirt pocket and holds it out to me. It displays the picture of an attractive girl with dark red hair and eyes the color of the Caribbean Sea. She resembles the blonde who helped me at the café.

  Play it cool. I shake my head. “Never seen her.”

  “Are you sure?” His question is full of skepticism.

  “Positive, but…” He has to believe my lie. “She looks like someone from the café.”

  “No more games, Tru.”

  I drop my napkin on the table and look up. “No games. She sparked my memory. That’s all.”

  Holden slides the phone back into his pocket. He strokes his chin. His eyes study me. “Maybe I should go speak to her.”

  I rest my elbows on the table. “I’ve a better idea. Let me talk to her. If I hear her voice, I can tell you whether she was there. I want to be a model citizen. Let me prove it.”

  “No.” Holden pinches the bridge of his nose.

  “I just need a few minutes. Bring her here.”

  He pushes back in his chair, scrutinizing me. Time ticks on and the hair on the back of my neck begins to stand. I fight the urge to move. Instead, I sit in stony silence waiting for his decision.

  “I’ll take you to her.”

  Fear overshadows the triumph in my heart. “Uh, Holden.” I shake my head. “I’d rather not go back to that cell. Bad memories.”

  He exhales. “It’s either go there or I’ll talk to her. I’ll give you five minutes.”

  I sigh. “Fine.”

  We stand outside my former room. Memories flash through my mind—the cold room, the truth serum, the spiders. I freeze. No way can I go in there.

  “What are you waiting for?” Holden questions.