by Angela White
"The Eagle who finds the extra eyes is invited to sit at my table for evening chow."
Adrian's voice over the radio was firm, commanding, but the pleased tone was obvious too. There was a flurry of activity as men began to throw on gear and get outside.
Angela let the Witch dim them, not wanting it to be over yet. It was only an illusion though, and she wondered who might be able to see her anyway.
Adrian's voice in her head came a second later. “They'll see your shadow.”
Angela frowned at her oversight, hearing the patrol they had formed heading for her side of the tent, and moved quickly. She'd forgotten about the sun, wasn't used to having to include it in her plans.
She slit a larger hole over the one she'd made and dove through the new entrance just as the patrol rounded the corner. She rolled to her feet in the empty tent and slid her blade back into her boot before smoothing her clothes and hair into place.
Moving toward the door as she lit a smoke, Angela let Adrian's happiness wash over her like water on burning feet, soothing her pain.
“Beautiful. That's on the infiltration test. These guys don't usually take that until around Level Five. Well done.”
Angela inhaled as she stepped to the open flap, letting that feeling of approval soak in. Some of that regularly would be good for her. What were the chances he would let a woman into his army?
"So, who's sitting at my table tonight?" Adrian asked the still-searching patrol of guards.
Angela stepped outside. "Me."
They all turned to see her grinning contentedly and it didn't go unnoticed that Adrian was too.
"Again, some other time, just to be sure you've got it right?" His voice reeked of happiness.
"Absolutely!" Angela flashed a smile at the stunned guards around them. "Thank you. I needed this."
Angela moved into the woods, going back the way she'd come, so the camp would see her emerge from where she had disappeared and not know she'd been here.
The shock she left in her wake lasted only a short time as Adrian began to speak.
A few minutes later, when Kenn dropped by, hoping to discover what she'd been doing in the training area, and why he hadn't been called, the Duty CO found them all strangely smug and silent, even his Boss. Like they knew something he didn’t. What had Angie told them… done for them?
9
"Fate thinks hard on you." Angela's words caused silence to fall among his joking men.
She met Adrian's eye across the suddenly tense center table as the wolf rose to its feet, head cocked to the side like he too had sensed it. "Something comes."
An instant later the entire Mess of nearly one hundred people went from loud and good humored, to silent and worried. The sound of feet running though the evening dimness was always bad.
The fog parted to reveal Matt flying toward them. Startled people moved back as the teenager’s eyes found Adrian.
"There's a call... Dad says… to come quick!"
Adrian did, thinking he would be very pissed at Mitch for scaring everyone if this was a false alarm, but knew it wasn't from the look on the boy’s face. First contact with the Enemy was about to be made, and the tense leader didn't feel the chill in the darkness as he moved quickly to the communications truck.
Mitch started talking as soon as Adrian was close enough to hear. "It's the Slavers - said they have news about the group of men that left us today."
Adrian lit a smoke, mentally preparing, and instantly hated the lightly-accented voice that came over the radio as he picked up the mic.
"I am tired of this wait. Who speaks for you?"
Mitch saw Adrian and Kenn exchange a dangerous glance, and stepped toward his boy, tossed an arm around his neck. "Come on, Matt. We're on dinner-break now. If people ask, and they will, it sounds like a bad joke. Adrian can handle it. Nothing else."
The leader nodded at him and climbed into the seat as they left.
Kenn got in, too, neither of them bothering to close the doors. Most of the camp carried scanners on their belts and a large number of people had followed them from the Mess.
"This is Eagle. Go ahead with your message."
There was an amused chuckle.
"Here's my message, gringo," the hard Mexican voice mocked them. "I have your men. To get them back you will swear your allegiance to me and send out half of your women and supplies. Tonight."
Adrian's response was sharp, commanding. "Get off this channel! I'm expecting a call."
There was a stunned silence as Kenn (and the rest of those listening) worried, but not Adrian. He knew a bluff when he heard one.
More laughter floated through the radio, backdropped by the roar of a camp that was clearly bigger than Safe Haven.
"Ahh, a hard-ass, but you care for them, I know. I have seen you. Send out the females first."
Adrian made no reply, waiting, judging. When the airwaves lit back up, there was an edge of frustration in the killer's voice that muted the screams and foreign voices bleeding through the transmission.
"I will hurt them! I'll cut them up and make you listen!"
This time, Adrian's response was quick, menacing. "Be careful, Cesar, or your camp might be the one conquered. Back off! We're not the easy target you think."
"I'll never back off!" the slaver screamed, caught off guard and furious at not only the defiance he heard, but also the open use of his name.
"I will have the Witch! You will not stop me when I come for her!"
The radio went dead and Kenn turned expectantly. "What are we gonna do?"
"Nothing."
"But what about our …"
"He doesn't have them. They're listening, though."
Kenn's eyes narrowed as a short Morse Code message lit up the radio, telling them Kyle and Neil's team were 5-by and almost to their destination. He hadn’t known Adrian was still having private lessons with the Eagles. Kenn had thought he was involved in everything their leader had going on.
"How did you know?" he prompted.
"Because they're well-trained. They don't just give name and rank - they lie, the whole time. If that evil bastard had even one of our guys, he'd be demanding we turn over the dozen Mexican females we're holding hostage or the location of the fuel tankers we hid. But he didn't."
Kenn nodded as he understood, and his lips thinned. "Instead he wants the Witch. Angela."
Adrian frowned at the loudly spoken words, and his eyes warned his XO to be careful. "Send her to me early. She either had contact with them on the way here or one of us is a traitor, and I don't believe that."
Kenn nodded again, wondering if now his Boss, too, wished she hadn't come. The Slavers had followed her, and they were all in danger.
Adrian read it in his eyes and shook his head, voice hard. "She has every right to be here. I know you don't like it, but this camp needs them. I need them. We can't keep doing it all alone, but more than that, she's as much the reason we're here as these sheep. She's one of us, and I'll die before I turn her or any of them over to that sick bastard! You'd better get on board with that at least, or resign now! Stay here until Mitch comes back. I'm gonna go sing to the herd."
10
Rick blew out the flame on his lantern and lay down, heart thumping despite the simple chore he was about to perform. The security here was extreme. He had been watched all day long as he played football and then corn hole (what a stupid fucking hillbilly game that was!), and he was very aware that no one trusted him. He'd had empty conversations with enough sharp-eyed people to make the nervousness stay with him like an old friend.
Rick waited only a couple of minutes before easing out of his bedroll, hating that he had been told to put his drafty tent where the bonfire light would reflect his shadows, but what could he say? Staying low to the ground so the other tent shadows covered his movements, he tensed each time footsteps crunched and voices rang out.
It only took two minutes with his knife, two minutes with a spoon lifted from the
Mess, and another sixty seconds to place the plastic-wrapped beeper into the ground and cover it back up. He slowly repaired the small hole in the floor with dark green tape and carefully used his hands to push the dirt crumbs into a small pile that his bedroll easily covered.
He'd buried two letters with the remote (one of them his Dear John from Samantha), the spoon and an exact copy of his schedule that had the next day’s travel route marked on it. Cesar would only have to hit the button on his remote locator to find which spot had been his.
With the chore complete, Rick lay back down, carefully cleaning each grain of dirt from under his nails and contemplating his next move. Cesar had told him of having another spy here. He would make contact soon and deliver a reminder of their deal. This time he would definitely need help. Rick patted the small lump under him until it was flat. It was a simple method of communication that he and Cesar had used before. By the time Adrian broke camp, the disturbed earth would be settled back down and mostly unnoticeable unless someone was looking for it.
These precautions hadn't been necessary with the other groups he had helped the Slavers conquer, but these survivors were harder, stronger, and much more alert. Rick now had serious doubts about Cesar’s ability to emerge as the victor. He had begun the usual campaign of fear, drugging the dogs, and hopefully forcing the leader here to react rashly. Every guard the Mexicans could pick off out of camp would mean fewer that they would have to face later. Next, there would be a rash of accidental fires that destroyed food supplies, but Rick was already sure it would take something huge to not only get past their defenses, but crush their will, too.
He'd tried to make that clear in his letter. If Cesar attacked recklessly and lost, it would strengthen not only Safe Haven, but every other town of survivors waiting to be attacked. It would give them hope where there had been none before, and they might all try to fight. The American spirit was hard to predict sometimes, and Adrian obviously knew how to handle his people. Cesar wasn't nearly as good.
11
"He doesn't believe us about the Witch, because he hasn't seen her do anything."
Dean rubbed at the unreachable ache in his wrist as they took turns watching the large, well-protected camp through their scopes. Safe Haven's lights were a beacon in the night.
"It won't matter. The leader called his bluff and didn't run. Cesar wants him now."
Dillan looked at his brother knowingly in the cold darkness of the drafty house they were using for shelter. "I have it covered. Cesar’s probably got the tank by now. He's on the way back to hit them. When he does, she'll be unprotected. We'll get her then."
"Why won't your plan work?"
Dillan set the dart he'd just made onto the table, brushing aside a dusty pile of encyclopedias. "Would, if Cesar gave it time, but he won't. He's seriously pissed now, and we can't be caught off-guard again. We'll hit her and the boy with these knockout slugs and take 'em to that cabin where we found the last group of slaves."
"And if he wins, comes after us?"
Dillan's smile was cold. "We'll use her against whoever shows up to claim her. She came across an entire country to find her son. She'll do what we want to keep him alive."
The dark assassin moved away from the dirty, glassless window. "Come morning, we'll get closer. If we get the chance, we'll take it. Look for holes in their defenses. We only need one mistake."
Chapter Forty Seven
Day 4
1
Though it was only 7 a.m. and the damp fog was rolling thickly through the camp, Angela had to wait for the people at Adrian's tent to finish their business before she could find out why he'd sent for her. Kenn had given nothing by words or thought, but really, she knew. The call from the slavers was all anyone was talking about, and she tried not to cringe every time someone said Witch and looked around.
Adrian was sitting at a fold-up table next to his tent, shielded by a green canopy as people waited to see him.
Angela knew the call was the reason for them being here too. They were scared and seeking reassurance. There were more people carrying guns today, the line at the target practice area was already long, even though it was so early and so chilly. The sounds of gunfire rang out almost continuously.
After listening to the first three people, all older, nervous-looking women, ask about the camp's defenses and joining the gun class, Angela tuned them out, wondering if Adrian was going to make her leave. “Might be for the best,” her heart seduced, “then you could have …”
Angela looked up to see Adrian's eyes on her, and picked up his thought easily. She stepped over to sit on the damp grass, content to wait like he wanted, though more people had joined the line. Some of those around now looked at her differently, more respectfully, and she relaxed as she watched and listened, impressed with the way Adrian handled them.
It was nearly 9 a.m. before they were alone, and Adrian waved her into the empty seat as the last of the waiting members left, satisfied, "Sorry."
Angela shrugged, brushing at her damp jeans. "I didn't mind."
He only looked at her, and she dropped her eyes to the lifeless dirt under her feet. "I don't know how they know. We saw almost no one on the way here."
"Almost no one. I need you to tell me about all of them,” he prompted.
She was frowning in concentration, trying to tune out those walking by, whispering and staring. "There were people everywhere at first, but by the time I left Ohio in early February even the group living at the college had torn themselves apart. I had to… convince them to let me go. They saw a lot more than I wanted to show, but there were six of them. When Marc came, their leader, Warren, ambushed him and died for it. Once we were on the road, I…"
Her face drained of color and Adrian hated the ugly fear that filled her eyes.
"I was stalked by two men in Indiana, near Martinsville. I… defended myself. They saw things. They might have gotten me, if not for Marc."
Angela looked at him with horrified eyes, "They said they'd follow, but they were both seriously wounded, and I thought we'd lost them. I… I wouldn't let him finish them off. Said something stupid like, ‘they're hurt, that's enough,’ but I knew better."
She looked down at the fingers lovingly caressing her gun. "I was attacked again in Versailles and I… killed him. We saw no one else except for a Mountain couple we spent the night with in Nebraska. It has to be the twins."
Adrian read between the lines and his respect for her doubled even as his worry grew. "Can you… no. Will you… show me?"
Angela was scowling, but she nodded, not looking up. She didn’t want to face it all again, but she would. She had led them here, and she had to give Adrian whatever he needed to make them go away. "Yes. We'll have to be touching."
His heart thumped, and Adrian stood up. “Bring your chair."
2
Adrian sat back, hand still tingling sweetly from the innocent contact. Her skin was so soft! Would his fingers now reek of her scent? It was a struggle not to find out.
"So it was the fire and energy, nothing more?"
"No."
"Good. They know very little, then."
"But they suspect more and if it is the twins, then they've followed me, and I'm sorry."
"I'm not. We need you here."
Angela looked up in surprise. "You're not asking me to leave?"
His eyes darkened, and his tone became passionate. “Never! You're one of us now, one of my Council, and I'll handle this. Here's your driving schedule. Hope you like older people.”
He changed the subject abruptly, and she let him, looking over the paper.
Adrian knew she would assume he was putting her with the coal miners to see if the elderly people had a need for anything. It was really Kenn’s doing.
Angela had no idea about the arrangements going on behind her back, she was just happy she would get to drive. She hadn't realized how big a part of her life it had become until she went without it for a few days.
; As she moved toward the flap Adrian caught her eye. "You did well yesterday. You're always welcome to stop by."
Angela nodded and left, but inside, she doubted his men felt the same.
3
"It's hurting her."
Charlie looked up from the basket he'd been sorting through.
The sullen teenager was not happy to be working with Marc. Adrian had insisted he knew the things that people used the most, since he was usually the one to hand stuff out or to deliver boxes, and there had been a tense four hours of silence.
"What's hurting who?" Charlie asked sharply, thinking it wasn't enough to be good with a gun, but he was glad Brady was. Not that it would matter in the end.
"Your mom, when you won't talk to her."
There was another tense silence.
"See, this I expect. Hate me, but give your mom a break. She went through hell to find you."
Charlie had been thinking about it all morning, unable to get back to sleep after her nightmare had woken him, but he still didn’t respond. What could he possibly say to get this stranger to understand that if he stayed, she would probably get killed? That he was trying to keep his mom alive by making her pick between them?
They worked in silence for a few more minutes, the other men already gone for lunch, and the boy felt the father wanted to talk, to explain. Charlie was glad when he didn't try. Kenn had said a lot of things about his mom, things his mom said weren't true, and even at his age, Charlie knew who he could trust… but he also knew how dangerous the Marine was.
"Can I ask you something?"
Marc paused to light a smoke and knew he would have to repay Adrian somehow for this precious time with his son. "Shoot."
"Is she telling the truth? You would have come for us if you'd known?"