Colton hurried over to his own Humvee. “Reddker, on me. Everyone else stay here!”
The private hopped into the passenger seat, breathing heavily, a grin on his face.
“I think I got one of ’em, Sarge!”
“There are kids in that truck,” Colton growled.
Reddker looked at the truck, the grin fading. “Oh, shit. I didn’t see…”
The clatter of metal snapped Colton awake. He sat up in his bed, forgetting where he was for a moment. The bars of his cell reminded him he was still in the jail in Fort Collins. A wave of anxiety tore through him when he also remembered that, in a few hours, his friends in Estes Park were due to barter with Thompson’s people in exchange for his life.
The door at the end of the hallway opened, and a strangled voice called out. “Please…please let me go.”
Colton moved over to the bars. In the glow of a torch, he saw three figures moving down the hallway to his right. Two guards carried a man under his armpits, his legs dragging across the ground. He was hurt, and hurt bad.
They pulled him past Colton’s cell before he could get a look at the man’s face. They stopped at the next cell, unlocked the door, and tossed the man inside.
The guards paused in front of Colton’s bars. The man with the torch held it up, revealing the bearded faces of Thompson’s men. These weren’t the hard Russians that Thompson usually brought out. These were just grunts.
The one on the left had his hair neatly parted on the side, an odd look for a man with an AR-15 slung over a shoulder. The guy on the right wore a black baseball cap and glasses. Both of them smelled like they hadn’t showered since the bombs dropped.
“Tomorrow’s a big day for you, Chief,” the man with the cap said.
Side-Part pulled out his knife and clicked the blade against the metal bar several times. “Hear that, Drew?” he said, looking at his buddy with a grin.
“That’s the tick-tock of the clock, Chief,” Drew said, taking over. “In the morning we’ll find out if you get to live, or if I get to carve you up.”
The men both laughed and walked away, but Colton remained standing, his heart still pounding from his dream and the fate that awaited him.
Down the hall, the guards opened the door. It clicked shut behind them. Colton gritted his teeth and squeezed the bars until his knuckles popped. He stood there, staring into the darkness, the anger eating at his insides.
In the past, his wife or his best friend would have been able to talk him out of the darkness, but tonight Colton was alone. Jake was dead, and Kelly might as well have been a million miles away. If he fell back asleep in this state of mind, he would just dream again of the girl he couldn’t save in Afghanistan, or Melissa Stone, or…
“Marcus?” called a voice.
Colton loosened his grip on the bars. Was he hearing things?
The voice came again, but it was so muffled he could barely make it out.
“Marcus, it’s me. Clint.”
Colton let go of the bars. It couldn’t be. Clint Bailey was dead. They had dragged him out of here and killed him.
This had to be one of Thompson’s tricks.
Clint spoke again, clearer this time.
“They’re going to kill you tomorrow,” he rasped. “If you have a chance to run, do it.”
— 4 —
Charlize boarded the Sikorsky UH-60 Black Hawk helicopter at dawn. There hadn’t been much time, but she had put on light makeup and brushed her short hair into a style that looked somewhat respectable. Her outfit—black slacks and blazer with a white blouse—was clean and neatly pressed.
She took a seat next to Colonel Mark Raymond as the pilots prepared to take off. Today was one of the most important days in the history of the United States—it was the day the Chinese landed on American soil. The Founding Fathers would be rolling in their graves. But what choice did they have? The help from China would save countless American lives.
Charlize still had her doubts, and the decision to welcome an occupying military force weighed heavily on her mind. If there had been a conspiracy between China and North Korea, she would find out and deal with those responsible. For now, her duty was to help the country recover.
Over the comms channel, Raymond explained they would be meeting with General Ken Lin, the man the Chinese had entrusted with the recovery efforts. Charlize had never heard of him, but he was apparently well respected throughout the Chinese military.
The thump of the rotor blades sounded as the pilots fired up the bird. A dozen Green Berets jumped inside the chopper. Charlize had been through too much since the bombs fell to ever feel fully safe again, but having a special operations team along for the ride was reassuring.
Sergeant Andrew Fugate, a thin man with short-cropped red hair and a thick mustache, was in charge of the team. He took a seat across from Charlize, and handed her a flak jacket.
“Put this on, Madame Secretary,” he said.
She did as ordered, and Colonel Raymond followed suit with his own vest. It was only a fifteen-minute flight to Fort Lauderdale, but they weren’t taking any chances with security. Charlize looked out over the ocean to the east, watching the golden glow of the sun sparkle over the waves. She couldn’t see them from her vantage point, but she knew the Chinese ships were out there. All across the Eastern Seaboard, the massive boats were beginning to arrive, and more would be hitting ports on the West Coast.
Initially, the plan had been for General Thor to meet with General Lin, but Charlize had decided it was her responsibility as Secretary of Defense to personally welcome the Chinese General—and assess the situation.
“Five minutes,” one of the pilots said over the comms channel.
Charlize focused on the traffic moving on a road below. Vehicles drove on the highway at the edge of the beach, just like they would have a month earlier. Out on the water, several boats cut through the waves. From up here, it didn’t look like anything had happened at all. Southern Florida had been spared from the devastating effects of the EMP attack. The cities here still had power, but north of Orlando, the United States was still dark. The only vehicles moving there were hardened military units or old cars and trucks built before modern electronics.
A train snaked along the terrain below, heading north, with a long line of cars packed full of supplies. Across the country, other trains like this one were arriving at their destinations with generators, food, and medicine, while convoys on the highways continued to get hit by raiders. It had been her idea to transport goods the old-fashioned way, by rail. But no matter how hard Charlize worked, it wasn’t enough. They’d still had to turn to foreign governments for help.
The chopper came in on the eastern edge of Fort Lauderdale, passing over the beaches and the million-dollar mansions built in coves along the harbors. The Stranahan River came into focus, and Charlize got her first view of the Chinese ships.
Where cruise ships had once docked along the piers of Fort Lauderdale Harbor, there were now a dozen foreign aid ships. Equipment, vehicles, and troops were already being unloaded from the massive ships.
A month ago, there would have been happy tourists here, waving at departing cruise ships. Not today. Instead, thousands of American citizens were impatiently waiting in the streets for supplies to be distributed, all under the watchful eyes of Chinese soldiers wearing blue camouflage and carrying standard QBZ-95 automatic rifles.
“We need to keep those civilians back,” she said.
Raymond agreed with a nod. “They aren’t supposed to be here. The distribution point is another mile to the west. They must have seen the ships and come running.”
Charlize lost sight of the view as the pilots descended over the US Coast Guard facility on the east side of the river. As soon as they landed, the Green Berets jumped out. Sergeant Fugate led the group, barking orders and gesturing for his men to take up position.
Raymond went next, then reached up to help Charlize out. She followed the men away from the bird,
keeping low, what was left of her black hair whipping in the rotor drafts.
Thirty-plus American soldiers were already waiting with their rifles cradled. They surrounded her and Raymond on the way to the warehouse that served as a command center. Several Humvees with turrets were waiting outside, guarding the road that led to the beach.
“Captain Harris,” Charlize said, recognizing a familiar face.
Captain Zach Harris turned from a conversation with several FEMA staffers. He threw up a salute and said, “Welcome to Fort Lauderdale, Secretary Montgomery.”
They met in the center of the room. “Glad to see you again, ma’am,” he said, light blue eyes crinkling behind the heavy black frames of his glasses. “I wanted to thank you personally for reassigning me after what happened at the survival center in Charlotte.”
She stole a quick glance over her shoulder to make sure no one was listening. Most of the operations center staff were busy working at laptop computers or talking on radios, but she wanted to have this conversation in private.
“Is there some place we can chat?” she asked.
Harris led her to a small office. Stacks of boxes marked Coast Guard surrounded a metal desk covered in dust. Raymond waited for them outside the door.
“I’ll only be a moment,” she said. “Let me know if General Lin arrives.”
As soon as the door shut, Charlize cut to the chase. “I had you transferred here for a reason,” she said. “What happened in Charlotte was not your fault. In fact, I believe it was inevitable. Gangs have overrun every major city, which is part of the reason we accepted China’s terms.”
She pulled at the bottom of her blazer to straighten it under her bulletproof vest. “FEMA, first responders, the American military—they are simply not enough, as you know. We need the foreign aid to get the grid back up and running. And we need men like you.”
Harris stiffened and held her gaze. “Thank you, ma’am.”
“I was impressed with the way you ran the survival center, and despite the fact it fell, you remained behind with your staff to give others a chance to escape. Even in the chaos, you made sure the men and women under your command did not slaughter the desperate civilians. I respect that.”
“I was just doing my duty. I’m grateful for the opportunity to run the command center here.”
Charlize smiled and shook her head. “That’s not your mission now, Captain.”
He raised his brows over the rims of his glasses. “Ma’am?”
“I’m assigning you a different role. The most important of your career.” After a short pause, she added, “I want you to work with General Ken Lin, and report everything directly to me. I trust you to be my eyes and ears in this matter.”
Harris didn’t reply, and she said, “Captain, do you understand what I’m asking you to do?”
He nodded firmly. “Yes, Secretary Montgomery.”
A rap on the door told Charlize they were out of time. She opened the door and Raymond confirmed she was correct.
“The Chinese are here,” he said.
The room quieted as she approached the front warehouse doors. Growling engines sounded outside. Five Chinese trucks and two black Honggi L5 limousines with tinted windows had pulled up.
Soldiers poured out of the trucks. One of them opened the side door to the second limo, and a short man with wide shoulders stepped out onto the concrete. He shielded his eyes from the morning sun with a pair of aviator glasses before making his way toward the warehouse. Charlize, Raymond, and Harris walked out to meet him.
“Good morning, General Lin,” she said.
“Secretary Montgomery,” Lin said with a thick Chinese accent. “It is a pleasure to meet you.”
“And you, sir.”
He turned and gestured toward the piers across the river, where the ships were still unloading.
“On behalf of the People’s Republic of China, I humbly thank you for accepting our offer to help our American friends rebuild. You have our deepest condolences for the loss of life you have suffered in this outrageous and unprovoked North Korean attack. I assure you that we will do everything we can to help the United States recover as quickly as possible.”
He smiled warmly. The smile of a politician, she thought to herself. She returned it with one of her own.
She was good at reading people, and she trusted her instincts more than his words. Nothing Lin said meant anything beyond a well-rehearsed soundbite. She glanced over at Captain Harris, who nodded back with understanding of just how important his mission was to the future of their country.
***
Fenix remained silent in the back seat of a Jeep, the blindfold back over his eyes to make sure he didn’t see where Theo and Hacker were taking him.
They should have been back at Redford’s compound hours ago, so they were taking him somewhere else. That made sense. They were playing things safe, just in case his Sons of Liberty soldiers were up to something. At least, that’s what Fenix would have done if he were in Redford’s expensive Italian shoes.
He kept his suspicions to himself, not daring to give Theo or Hacker a reason to search him. He tried to sneak a glance in his pocket for whatever it was that Sergeant Horton had dropped in it back at the cabin, but he couldn’t see. If he had to guess, it was something to help him out of these cuffs.
The vehicle turned and began accelerating, which told Fenix they were back on a highway. Driving out here in the middle of the day had become increasingly dangerous, but he wasn’t too worried about an ambush. Redford had over a dozen men and automatic rifles in the convoy. The only thing that could stand a chance of stopping them was an armored convoy of American soldiers.
“You know, I’m kinda surprised your boy Horton didn’t pull any bullshit back there,” Theo said, breaking the silence. “I’m also kind of disappointed.”
“I told you, I’m a man of my word,” Fenix replied.
“So am I.”
Fenix waited for Theo to follow up the comment, but nothing came. He couldn’t tell if Redford’s cousin was an idiot or a wily bastard, and that made him uneasy.
“Where are we going?” Fenix finally asked.
Theo chuckled.
A rustling sounded, like someone moving in a seat, and suddenly the blindfold over Fenix’s eyes lifted. He blinked at the gray light.
“Take a look for yourself,” Theo said.
Fenix stared out the window at a highway dotted with stranded vehicles. A light snow was falling, dusting the ground with a layer of white. The mountains formed a fence on the horizon. Everything else was burnt to a crisp. Miles and miles of trees had been reduced to charcoaled logs and blackened sticks protruding out of the dirt. A FEMA sign warned of potential radiation contamination, but that didn’t seem to bother Theo or the driver. The convoy powered forward into the burned wasteland.
It was a test, Fenix realized. They were taking him somewhere where his men wouldn’t be able to follow easily.
“Don’t worry, Dan,” Theo said. “Those are our signs. It’s perfectly safe out here.” He grinned, a shit-eating expression that made Fenix want to punch him in the jaw. But he also felt a grudging respect. Redford was a smart man. Putting up signs to keep people off this road was genius. Even if his soldiers could find him, the radiation warnings would likely keep them back.
The lead truck, a gunmetal Toyota with a rusted-out bed, suddenly jerked to the left. Jade cursed and pushed down on the brakes. Theo turned back to the windshield, reaching for the AR-15 propped up next to the door.
The Toyota pulled to the side of the road, and the occupants jumped out, rifles shouldered. They moved toward a cluster of stalled cars, shouting at someone ahead.
“Hold us here, Jade,” Theo said to the driver.
Hacker pulled out an M9 and chambered a round with a click. “Anyone got eyes on what’s going on?” he asked.
“I see something,” Theo said, straining to get a look.
The men from the pickup truck returned a f
ew seconds later with a man holding onto a mountain bike. He was dressed in a white coat, white pants, and a white facemask to match. A gray stocking cap topped his head. The only exposed part of his body were his eyes.
“Stay here,” Theo said. He got out of the truck, leaving the door open and letting in the cold wind.
Fenix scooted across the seat for a better look. The guy with the bike stopped about ten feet in front of their Jeep. Theo and his men surrounded him, rifles all pointed at his head. The biker gently sat his bicycle in the snow and raised his hands into the air.
“Please, please hold your fire,” he said, shielding his head from the guns. Fenix could tell by his posture he wasn’t a soldier. This was just a guy out on his bike, trying to get somewhere in a hurry.
“What are you doing out here?” Theo asked.
“I’m trying to deliver a message,” he said. “That’s it, I swear.”
Theo took a step forward, lowering his rifle. “What message?”
“A message about the Chinese,” the man said.
“What about ’em?”
“They are here,” the man said, hands shaking.
Theo stepped forward again. “Dude, calm down and tell me what the hell you’re talking about.”
“Chinese boats have arrived carrying thousands of soldiers. They’re working with the federal government. I’m supposed to deliver the message to the next town, so we can prepare.”
Fenix felt his blood boiling. There was no way this could be true. No way the United States government would agree to allow the Chinese army into the country. But the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. Someone in the United States government must have been involved with the North Korean attack—and the Chinese had to have played a role also.
He suddenly felt the urge to get out of the Jeep and run. He had to get back to his men. If China was invading, then the fight he had been preparing for his entire life had arrived.
Trackers Omnibus [Books 1-4] Page 80