by Angela White
Angela didn’t loath them for it the way Donner did with his men. She valued their lives more than that.
7
Seventy miles to the east, Angela heard Donner’s order and heaved a painful sigh. There had been a small hope that the Butcher would stick to his deal of coming this evening for Adrian, but that was gone now. There would be another fight.
“Cynthia and Daryl came in. He insisted she get fed first,” Shawn informed Angela, nodding to Greg, who had watch duty over the boss.
“Good,” Angela answered. She was sure if things hadn’t gone according to plan, the reporter would have already tried to contact her. Cynthia would stay with her and defend this site tomorrow, during the final battle. Angela expected it to come to her front door this time.
“The boys are pissed, but they’re waiting.”
When he didn’t receive an answer, Shawn joined Greg on watch. Unlike the others, who were still trying to figure out the next step in Angela’s plan, Shawn knew what was coming and agreed completely. If anyone could accomplish such a life-changing goal, their leader could. He’d never met a smarter woman or man. Even Adrian, with his guiding light, couldn’t match Angela’s deviousness. If not for Marc, Shawn would have tried to get her attention. His respect was unmeasurable.
Angela would have loved or hated his devotion on a different day, but here, she only time for the plan. One wrong step was all it would take to bring them down and she ran eyes over her tensely waiting camp.
Neil and Jeremy, with Jax and Billy, were in a small tent near where the chopper would land. Angela hadn’t spoken to either man yet, had told Shawn to make them wait. Nothing was clear when she looked to final battle, but they would demand answers that she didn’t have. To provide a small measure of comfort, she’d had Samantha’s last wishes carried out. A letter was being delivered to Neil and Jeremy. It was her will.
Angela was dreading morning, when Samantha’s men wouldn’t be able to wait any longer without confronting her.
Angela winced at a sharp stomach cramp and wasn’t comforted when the witch delivered a warning.
“A few more days,” she answered, and ignored the second warning she received. After Hilda’s words, it didn’t matter. There was no way she could carry this child to term or even close. She couldn’t lose the war too. The second miscarriage may or may not make her want to die, but the government taking over Safe Haven would certainly kill her.
Still in his small cell, Adrian caught the thought and finally understood what she planned to do. He started to shout for help, and then snapped his mouth shut as the possibilities buzzed through his mind. If she succeeded, Safe Haven would continue under Marc’s strong leadership, while Angela would be free to unleash her fury on the enemy.
It was a hard moment for him, deciding to trust her or his own visions. It was seeing Cynthia and Daryl arm-in-arm, coming towards them that made up his mind. She had a grand plan, one bigger than what he and Marc had provided, and he would let her carry it out. Cynthia and Daryl was a match that he’d never considered. It told Adrian he had missed things. He would trust her.
“Marc will hate you for that choice,” Angela warned. She was ready to knock him out with the dart gun on her belt if he started shouting mentally. Marc couldn’t come here, not yet.
“He already hates me.”
“Not the way he will after this. And if I die, so will you, by his hand.”
Adrian had heard the threat too many times for it to have an effect. “Will you?”
Angela looked away, voice lowering. “That has not been revealed.”
Adrian hated that answer as much as he ever had, but was forced to keep quiet as Cynthia and Daryl came over.
Not looking at Adrian, Cynthia pushed a cup and snack baggie into Angela’s chilly hands, and waited for orders or praise. She wasn’t expecting what came.
“You two have a moral violation to judge. I need a solution or punishment before you hit the rack.”
Angela pointed to the second cell that they hadn’t noticed and both Eagles stared stupidly at the sight of Conner, who’d woken at the words ‘moral violation’.
“What has he done?” Cynthia asked, not sure she was the right one to be judging people for bad behavior.
“If he has any hopes of remaining in Safe Haven, he’ll tell you,” Angela answered.
She narrowed in on Adrian making plans based around what he’d discovered about her mental state and she jerked a hand at the empty tent next to her. “Why don’t you three spend some time talking while his father gets some rest?”
Angela motioned again and Shawn came forward, jerking the dart gun from his belt.
Adrian saw it coming and tried to shout for Marc in revenge, but it was too late. The call died before it went far.
“Sorry, Adrian, but I can’t have you changing your mind at the last minute,” Angela stated. She’d seen it happening and was accounting for it. He hadn’t expected that because he didn’t fight fate, only planned around it. Angela met fate in a life or death battle daily. She wouldn’t know how to win any other way.
“Why did you do that?” Conner protested, glowering. “He wasn’t going to tell on you!”
Angela didn’t reply to Conner, speaking to Daryl instead. “I know you don’t understand, but everyone will by this time tomorrow. Can you trust me for one more day?”
Daryl had no hesitation. She’d given him something he hadn’t even realized he was missing. He tucked Cynthia against his warm side and turned her toward Conner. “So, what’s this all about, boy?”
Now facing the camp’s punishment master, Conner floundered in his anger and started spilling his secrets. He didn’t want to go back in the labs. This tiny cell was better.
“Hey, what’s that?” Greg asked, staring at the marred cliffs to their southeast that they hadn’t been able to view yesterday for the heavy clouds.
Angela didn’t need to look to know. “Our den was breached.”
A new explosion rolled over the mountains, drawing every head toward the sound.
Angela felt fate slide in to start breathing down her neck. Had Peggy and Doug gotten them all inside in time? It was a struggle not to call out, but there was no way Donner would miss anything flying through the air right now and she dug her nails into the palms of her hands as she fought for control. If her army had to stick to the plan, then so did she.
8
Chris moved through the darkness not far from where Angela stood, memorizing every detail of her tired stance and the defeated expression on her beautiful face. He wanted to comfort her, and in the absence of that, he needed to ease her pain. It had always been this way for him, even before he’d known what to do with such emotions.
Before the first war he’d survived, the vet had often found a woman he could obsess over. He would follow her for weeks or even months before making contact and then the romance ended. His pattern had climaxed in the same graveyard many times. It wasn’t only pets buried in the Richardson Animal Cemetery.
When his obsession with Angela had begun, Chris had thought it would end the same way, but since his epiphany, the vet no longer viewed her as a future victim. She was his leader, his master and idol unknown. He would serve her well.
And when she finds out?
Chris slid under cover of the weeds as an Indian patrol came by, thinking when Angela tallied up all the evil he’d removed from her camp, she might just give him the job permanently. Then he wouldn’t have to hide his true nature anymore. He would become her dark sword of justice.
9
Angela saw the two Eagles coming toward her through the dawn fog and waved her guards back, sure this wouldn’t be a quiet conversation. She led them to the mini-mess tent, bringing up this part of the plan and her chosen words. Now that the moment was here, it was harder to be indifferent than she had thought it would be. Their minds were alive with torment.
During the time it had taken to get here, Neil and Jeremy had calmed down some, bu
t both Eagles were angry and scared, wanting answers. They weren’t going to leave until they got them.
Angela sank down at the center table with a groan she was sure they wanted to echo.
They took the bench across from her, ignoring the rookie cook who hurriedly put MREs and hot coffee in front of them.
“Take a break, okay?” Angela suggested to the cook. They were quickly alone in the tent.
“I’m going to fill you in on most of it and you won’t like it, but it’s not over yet, so please follow your orders, gentlemen. If you don’t, it will go every bit as badly as you’ve been envisioning.”
Angela lit a smoke and shut her lids, exhausted. “I had to push Donner here. That was key. Samantha is the best sniper on my team. She’s been flushing him toward Marc and inflicting enough injuries to keep him using his gifts for healing instead of tracking our teams. When he comes tomorrow, all of my team will be here, a line of women with a few skills and worlds of determination.”
“Why females?” Neil had to know. “The men are better trained, more prepared to deal with the abuses and hardships. Why did it have to be women?”
“Because of what will happen tomorrow,” Angela answered cryptically. “And I can’t discuss what hasn’t happened yet, so don’t ask me.”
“Will she die?” Jeremy demanded. “Is she dying for your damn plan?”
Angela wanted to reassure them, but there was only darkness now when she looked. “I hope not, but I think something’s gone wrong somewhere. I’m searching for it, but I need help.”
“How?”
“What?”
“I need everyone accounted for,” Angela said, holding out a paper with hundreds of names on it. “When I know whose missing, I’ll know what’s gone wrong and be able to account for it.”
“When did you lose track?” Neil asked, scanning over the list.
Jeremy handed him a pen and they began to mark off everyone they knew about.
Angela responded, “A little after dark fell. There was chaos yesterday. I knew I wouldn’t be able to monitor everyone, but this feels like a wildcard.”
Both men groaned. They hated wildcards.
“Use the field phones and start contacting each team for an oral check-in. Listen for the tone of voice and missing pieces. Shawn has it ready to go, but he needs two hands ASAP.”
They knew she was keeping them busy, but they also believed her about the wildcard. Too many things had gone in their favor. It was past time for something to go wrong.
10
Tracy moved through the too-still darkness with a cold chill of foreboding. She was supposed to get to Safe Haven now, but these trips through the night were taking a toll on her. Alone, she wanted to be almost anywhere but trudging up a mountain path.
A shadow ahead of her moved and Tracy stopped to study it, hoping for one of her own team almost desperately.
“Who’s there?” a man’s voice called, not familiar, but as he stumbled closer, Tracy discerned the outfit of an Eagle and rushed forward. “Are you all right?”
“Not really,” the man gasped out, nearly falling as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
Tracy frowned, staring into an unfamiliar face.
Sherman brought the dart up and plunged it into her neck.
“Don’t know which one you are, darlin’,” he crooned, hefting her over his wide shoulder. “But if they don’t want you, I do.”
Tracy went under like a rock, not even given time to call out to a protector.
Chapter Twenty
Before the Storm
1
Angela stepped from Shawn’s jeep and moved confidently into the site that now held more than a hundred of Safe Haven’s top fighters. She’d left a good portion of the leaderless teams with her vulnerable camp members, but concentrated her efforts here.
Angela yawned. This was a part of her last day of freedom and she’d been unable to get enough sleep. She’d insisted her guards do that in shifts, while she’d let the witch dream walk to refill the energy she would miss.
“Updates first?” Greg asked. He’d stayed overnight to make sure it was clear for her return. Shawn hadn’t budged the jeep an inch until Greg had sent the properly colored firework into the air.
“In a minute,” Angela answered, scanning to be sure that things were where she needed them to be. Then she looked down the mountain again, doing the same. It was SOP for a commander, but she didn’t know that. Angela’s instincts were hot. She couldn’t see the exact locations of the enemy teams and assassins who’d snuck closer during the night, but she could feel them holding their breath, waiting to see if she would stay, if they would get a shot at her. Whatever Donner had promised them was big.
No worries, Angela thought. She’d given orders to her front line fighters to trigger this slaughter if the soldiers tried to withdraw. It was an intricate web of pain. The fighters had lured the soldiers into the first ring and done enough damage to cause personal anger and ensure they would be chased. These Safe Haven fighters had then taken the only cleared roads, mining them as they went. When these solders tripped the first rounds of mine, a two-mile stretch of these mountains would shatter into mines, various grenades, claymores, spikes, tree branches, stacks of logs, and a dozen other clever killing methods, all connected to at least one damage zone to keep the chain alive. It would circle the mountain in a spiral that ended at the very gates she was lingering inside.
These soldiers were likely using the last reserves of the bunker. They would have some of the newer items that had been saved for need, such as the Milkor M32s. Cynthia had a matching weapon, but Marc hadn’t been able to find very many of those coveted destruction-deliverers. Angela had planned around that. She’d known they would be facing superior firepower, but she’d counted on that margin being small. The enemy had handguns, rifles and grenade launchers, with night vision equipment. She assumed they would also be wearing body armor. They would be weighed down with extra ammunition and the majority of them would converge where the main roads met, hoping to use pure numbers to breach her final walls. So, she’d denied them targets for that rage and laid the death on thickest at her front door. They had no idea what she was capable of, but they were learning.
Her people should all be clear of the destruction zone by now, but there were a few teams still unaccounted for. She tried not to worry over their safety so much as the time estimate she’d allotted. If they died, that would be where she’d made the awful mistake. It was hard to judge the length of some emotions and as usual, all of Safe Haven’s people were going through something personal. That’s the way life worked. It stole your concentration right when you needed it the most.
“Down!”
Angela and Shawn ducked and spun in perfect time, drawing and firing at the three large mercenaries dropping from the tree near the gate. They’d lain in wait for hours, inching through as the fog slowly lifted.
Shawn rose as they both fired again, already sorry for shooting so close to her.
Angela didn’t even notice the ringing until she verified all three would-be killers were down.
Greg was there to hold out a pair of thick foam earplugs, giving Shawn a light frown. He couldn’t be too upset. He’d almost tackled her to be sure she wasn’t hit and that would have been worse.
Angela didn’t tell them the witch was already healing her eardrum, though the plug would help until she was finished. The demon inside had smothered her in layers of protection, but if a noise had gotten through, what else might?
I’ll strengthen it, the witch stated, fading away.
Angela stifled her protest, knowing that was the best place for her demon right now. Angela had only allowed that spirit to see parts of her plan and didn’t need the inner struggles, but she felt naked without both the witch and Marc.
Angela went through the gates this time without lingering and didn’t wince when they clanged shut. She wasn’t a prisoner here. It was for all their lives and worth it,
even if she never felt the sun again.
Already terrified of going mad in captivity, Angela scented the sky, raising her face to the vague sun above them. She’d thought to have three months before the battles reached Safe Haven’s front gates, but it had come in only two.
The sky opened up, pouring down weak acid rain that drew groans and moans of annoyance.
Angela lowered her head, denied even a last fresh breath of free, warm air.
“Let’s all get set.”
Her cold words triggered a flurry of activity as Angela went to the Command center they’d erected overnight. There hadn’t been a need for it until now.
She ducked under the awning, seeing the sides were folded, meaning it was plated to be able to form a safety box for her to work in.
Angela waved at the radios, the lights and alarms that were set to notify them when certain areas had been breached. The Indian and Mexican teams were working on that even now, closing gaps in the paths as they came her way. Angela was grateful for those brave men that Marc had gathered, even Sebastian, who she hadn’t met yet. Marc had flat out refused to have the man anywhere near her and Angela hadn’t argued. There wasn’t any need for it.
Angela heard her top men gathering under the edges of her command tent and turned to face them without flinching at the accusing looks and the fear. “Updates first.”
Angela paid careful attention to each word they spoke as the rain continued to pour and the silence held.
In a canvas behind Angela’s tent, Adrian, Conner, a few of the other prisoners of war were also waiting for the battle to begin. Most of them were dreading the end, no matter how today turned out. A couple were hoping Angela knew what she was doing and wishing they’d made better choices so that they could also be out there fighting for their freedom.
Adrian and Conner were sleeping. Darts at regular intervals had kept the two males under control while Angela left for the safe den that Marc had insisted on each night. Neither of them stirred when Angela arrived and she was glad of it. Adrian had been adding up clues. He was smart enough to put those pieces together if given enough time.