Butterfly Ops

by Jen Doyle

  Ian asked, “And the rapids will disappear tomorrow? There won’t be any lake to cross?”

  Despite the shortness of his tone, Lyndsey knew he wasn’t angry with Matt, he was just lashing out. She couldn’t blame him—the anticipation was always worse than the fight.

  “Maybe there won’t be a sunrise like that tomorrow,” Matt responded, not at all convincingly.

  In a calmer voice, Ian said, “I can’t just sit here, Matt. I can’t just wait for it to come.” There was a pause before he added, “Besides, I’ll have Lyndsey, Brooks and Malek with me the whole time. It won’t do anything unless I’m alone.”

  “That’s a load of shit and you know it,” Matt said. “Are you willing to risk their lives on it?”

  Lyndsey heard Brooks quietly say, “Isn’t that why we’re here?”

  She turned to see both Brooks and Malek standing about fifteen feet behind Ian, already flanking him. They didn’t have their weapons drawn, but they may as well have. Their stance just charged Lyndsey all the more.

  After a good thirty seconds or so, Matt finally conceded. “Okay.”

  Ian nodded and stood up. “Zachary, I don’t suppose you have anything to add?”

  Zachary paused before saying, “Sorry.”

  Lyndsey figured Zachary’s hesitation was due to an internal debate as to whether or not he should say his only idea was to have Lyndsey stay as far away from Ian as possible for the rest of the day.

  From the look on Ian’s face, it was clear he’d read it the same way. “Okay, then,” he said. “Brady—we’re supposed to meet up with you on the other side of this lake, right? Let’s go ahead with that. We can reevaluate then.”

  Matt’s voice was tight as he reiterated his earlier objection. “This just seems like a really bad idea.”

  Lyndsey saw Ian’s eyes go cold as he threw down the gauntlet. “Are you ordering me to stand down?”

  There was a tense silence as they waited for Matt to respond, which he finally did with a quiet, “No.” He added, “But I don’t want Joe to be part of this.”

  Ian seemed fine with that. “Agreed. Sprague, are you guys still on track to meet us tomorrow?”

  “Shouldn’t be a problem,” Sprague said. “Rodrigues and I each have one more place to hit; our squads will be back together by dinner tonight.”

  “Let’s just take this one day at a time, then,” Ian said. “Be extra alert and, Matt, open channel.”

  The last two words were said with a glance at Lyndsey. It took her a few seconds to realize why: because it was acknowledging that there was a chance none of them would make it out. If something happened to the team, the soldiers listening over comms would serve as the witnesses to the squad’s final moments.

  Ian continued, “We’ll hit the water at oh-seven-hundred. Have your teams sign on then. Matt, I need a minute.”

  Lyndsey could hear everyone as they signed off. Brooks and Malek headed back the short distance to the tents. Ian looked at Lyndsey; she figured he was waiting for her to take off her earpiece, too. When she didn’t, he gave her a long, hard stare before turning away and saying, “Matt?”

  “Just you and me, Ian.” Matt paused. “Well, and Lyndsey. But I figure you’re aware of that part. What’s up?”

  Though Ian’s voice was pure business, Lyndsey could feel the tears spring to her eyes when he brusquely said, “Wendy’s got all my papers on file.” Ian talked over Matt’s protest, “And there’s a key in the top drawer of my desk at home. It’s for a safety deposit box. There’s some stuff of Abby’s in there. For the kids. Abby’s parents have everything about the trusts…”

  Matt cut him off. “I know the drill. And I refuse to discuss this further. I’m out.”

  Ian took his comm off and turned to face Lyndsey, unapologetic, yet clearly unsure of what she’d say.

  She looked away for a minute and waited until she could speak without her voice betraying her. “Do you trust me?”

  There was a moment of silence before a quick, broad grin came over his face. “After what you did last night with that knife? Do you really need to ask?”

  Lyndsey smiled. That had been…unusual. Sekhmet coming out to play in a way she rarely did. Last night, though, they’d been in a different zone—on a different level entirely. All the things Lyndsey had said yesterday about how much he meant to her? Last night she’d felt it, experienced it in a way she hadn’t known was possible. And that had changed everything.

  She reached her hand up to his face. “Then know this: I won’t let her take you away from me. I have no intention of giving you up.”

  He looked into her eyes, seemingly liking what he saw there before leaning in to kiss her—the most tender, the most gentle of kisses, and, at the same time, a declaration: this…thing…they had between them had been a long time in coming and no one was going to get in their way.

  She hugged him fiercely, finally letting go when Malek brought out the breakfast stuff. Joe appeared right around then and surprisingly, to Lyndsey at least, had no problem being dismissed.

  In a way, Lyndsey would have preferred to keep him in sight—he knew more than he was telling them and she wanted to know what it was. It was the right thing to do, however; this was not a day for the uninitiated.

  After making arrangements to meet up with him again the next day—in the remote event that today would go smoothly—they bid him farewell, finished eating breakfast, and, after packing everything up, set off.

  29

  Hell of a way to pass a few hours, Ian thought as they came out of the last of the series of rapids, grateful this was the way the cards had fallen—the course had been too intense to think about anything other than getting to the end of it in one piece. This time they’d decided to have the canoes travel closely together, not sending one ahead as they’d normally do; no one thought it was a good idea for Ian and Lyndsey to be the first boat in, nor did anyone think it was any better to have them wait as Brooks and Malek went ahead.

  It was all the same to Ian. As long as he wasn’t sitting and waiting for some hand to drop out of the sky and pick him off, he was happy to let everyone else decide.

  He pulled his helmet off as they waited for the other canoe to catch up. Lyndsey had steered them into an especially strong current—Ian wasn’t sure if that had been intentional or not—so it would be a few minutes. She took her helmet off, turning around with an impish smile on her face.

  Matt’s voice came over the comm. “Lyndsey, don’t even think about it.”

  She frowned. “Matt, that’s just too Big Brother for words.” The sparkle came back into her eyes as she added, “And I have no idea what you mean by ‘it.’”

  “I’m sure,” Matt muttered. “Okay. See that bend up ahead of you? You’ll hit the lake right after it straightens out.”

  Ian looked up to where the river narrowed and snaked through the woods. The trees were so thick and dark that it was hard to believe there was open water just beyond it, but Matt had pulled out all the stops and was guiding them by satellite. He’d been doing it all day, which was probably why it had taken them four hours to get through the rapids—stopping periodically while Matt would give them a reading of the next series of turns just to make sure they wouldn’t be surprised by anything.

  “Then lunch?” Brooks asked, as he and Malek pulled up alongside Ian and Lyndsey’s canoe.

  Ian smiled and nodded. Brooks had been acting the medic all day, making sure everyone was hydrated and fed so they’d be as physically ready as possible for, well, whatever they needed to be ready for. Ian was surprised there hadn’t been an enforced nap time.

  “Good,” Malek said. “And can we please take these things off now?” He tugged at the life jacket.

  “Nope.” Ian knew none of them were happy with the extra precautions he’d insisted on—even Brooks, although he hadn’t said anything given his role. Ian really didn’t care. With the exception of canoeing through the rapids themselves, it was something they’d
been lax about but what they should have been doing since day one on this trip. He’d let it go because, well, what could he say? When the bigger picture was an apocalypse or two you tended to get cocky and ignore the mundane, day-to-day threats. Like, say, drowning.

  Today was different, though. It was bad enough he was putting his own life at risk. Doing the same with the rest of the team… Even if they had no more interest in sitting on the sidelines than he did, it was still his decision ultimately and he’d feel a lot more comfortable if he knew the things they could control were at least taken care of.

  He put his helmet back on and picked up his paddle, fixing his eyes on the trees. “Let’s move.”

  Though they’d only just cleared the rapids, he was already feeling antsy. He wanted to keep moving. Every time they stopped, he felt like he was being watched—which he was, he realized as they went through the trees. By Brooks, Malek, and Lyndsey at least.

  Where did they think he was going to go? They were all within fifteen feet of him for God’s sake. And he had no intention of letting his own guard down. His eyes were picking up every movement in the trees, every shadow under the surface of the water.

  The trees here were so close—the passage so narrow—that the leaves and branches were tickling his arms and the back of his neck. Maybe he’d be a sitting duck out on the open water but at least there he’d be able to breathe. It was creepy, to say the least, and given he was the last man in the line—Brooks and Malek having pulled ahead as they went around the bend—he couldn’t help but look over his shoulder.

  Fifteen minutes later, the other canoe moved beyond the trees and Ian saw the two men look up. Malek laughed uneasily in a way that did not sound at all promising. Emerging from under the canopy of leaves, it was clear what had captured their attention: cliffs so tall they dwarfed everything else in sight. At the top—at least several hundred feet up—was a series of images that, even from this distance, looked huge. Ian took out his binoculars.

  “Are they like the pictographs?” Lyndsey asked. “Or the markings?”

  Brooks, having taken out his own binoculars, answered, “The pictographs, I think. Just…” He looked at Ian. “…Bigger.”

  Yes, to say the least.

  The pictographs they’d seen so far had been a foot tall at most, no more than eight, ten inches wide. These were at least thirty feet tall, maybe forty; without anything to compare them to it was hard to tell. And there was an odd, lifelike quality to them, a vibrancy that the two-dimensional pictographs they’d seen so far hadn’t had. It was partly due to the shadows on the cliffs—crevices and nooks that gave life to the markings in the stone—and partly due to the way the sun hit them, making it appear they were actually moving, dancing across the rocks. Or it could have just been the whispery cry that happened every time the breeze blew by the cliffs.

  “Let me see,” Lyndsey said, holding her hand out for the binoculars. She put them to her eyes and, not bothering to hide her contempt, sniffed. “If that’s the Princess, then she’s kind of plain, don’t you think? And much too skinny for you.”

  He assumed she was referring to the tallest of the stick figures, the one that dominated the scene, though there was nothing to indicate it was a woman. Taking the binoculars back, he looked through them again. Was it dancing? Had the artist done that intentionally? Or was it just an effect created by the shadows and the sun?

  “So what do we do?” Malek asked.

  Ian put the binoculars away and picked up his paddle. “Nothing. They’re pictures.” Weird, freaky pictures maybe, but pictures all the same. “We keep moving.” No one else budged, though; they all just sat there looking at him.

  Fine. “Then give me another option.”

  Brooks and Malek glanced at each other but neither of them said anything. Nor did Matt or Zachary, both of whom Ian knew were hanging on every word.

  Ian looked out at the lake. There was a clearing not too far from where they sat—just past the cliffs, maybe ten minutes worth of paddling away. And after that there was beach as far as they could see—plenty of places to pull over if necessary. It was certainly better than heading back through the rapids because, well, they were rapids—rushing in the wrong direction. And the forest was too dense to even bring the boats in. “Honestly. Tell me what else to do.”

  He knew there was little chance of anyone answering. The soldiers—even Brady—were all shutting down right now and waiting for their orders; Matt, and possibly Brooks, were the exceptions, most likely thinking about waiting for Brady’s team to catch up with Ian’s squad and escort them to the other side of the lake. That upped the chance of casualties, however, with no discernible benefit. Plus whatever this was could hit at any time. There was no reason it would wait for Brady to even get there; it would have plenty of time to do what it wanted with Ian’s squad in the meantime.

  Zachary? No clue, other than being not at all happy that Lyndsey was here in the thick of it and he wasn’t. He’d been surprisingly quiet this morning, especially given the circumstances. Probably because he was wishing he’d never taken on Monica as a client, that Lyndsey had never moved to Boston, and especially that she’d never run into an ex-boyfriend who had already almost gotten her killed once in the past week.

  Ian turned to look at Lyndsey, smiling for what seemed like the first time in hours when he saw her eyes. There was no fear, no doubt. Just fire. What was it Zachary had said the other day? Pure, unadulterated Sekhmet blood.

  Well, good. He had a feeling he was going to need her, because—personally?—he wanted to quit this dance. Let’s get on with it, Princess. Just come the fuck out and play.

  Lyndsey nodded, and, seeing the decision in his eyes, faced forward. Ian looked at Brooks and Malek. Brooks smiled and put his paddle in the water as Malek pumped his fist in the air. “Yes, sir!”

  Brady came over the comm. “I take it that’s a go?”

  “Affirmative.” Ian could practically feel the sparks flying off of Lyndsey’s skin as she began paddling. The canoe shook with every stroke, and they were already pulling away from Brooks and Malek. “Brady—where are you? How long until we see you?”

  “We’re… Hold on a sec.” Brady’s voice was muffled. “Where are we people? Where’s… Aw, come on—where the fuck is Dominic? … I don’t give a good Goddamn if he’s—”

  Matt cut in. “They’re about four miles from you. They’ll probably hit the lake in twenty, twenty-five minutes; they should be in sight within the hour. Once they get moving again at least,” he added pointedly.

  Brady came back on the line, sounding irritated as hell. “Sorry, sir. Just a pit stop. We’ll be heading out again in no time.”

  Reaching forward to touch Lyndsey’s shoulder—slow her down just a little bit so they didn’t lose Brooks and Malek entirely—Ian felt her energy pass through him. She turned her head and kissed his hand, resting her cheek against his palm for a moment before straightening up. When she resumed paddling, it was with a little less force. Much better—he could actually keep up with this pace. Turning back, he saw the other boat was doing better, too.

  Looking up at the cliffs behind them and giving the pictures a final glance, he half expected the figures to skip along the surface of the rocks and follow the canoes across the lake. When they stayed in place, he couldn’t deny there was a feeling of relief.

  Just as they finally hit a groove again, he felt a current of … something … pass through him.

  “Did you feel that?” Ian said to Lyndsey.

  Brooks and Malek looked over as Lyndsey replied, “The wind? Yeah.”

  He shook his head. Though the breeze had picked up a bit, it wasn’t enough to be alarmed about. “No, not the wind.” The sensation hit again. “That. It’s like a shock,” he said as she turned back to look at him, puzzled. He looked over at Brooks and Malek in the boat beside them. They both lifted their shoulders and shrugged. “No. Like pins and needles.”

  But no, that wasn’t really it eith
er.

  He realized they’d all stopped paddling and were looking at him. Well, Brooks and Malek were looking at him; Lyndsey was scanning the water, the shore, the sky... Ian did the same. There was absolutely nothing he could see.

  Christ, he hated this mystical stuff. Monsters? Vampires? He’d take them any day over this kind of thing.

  Okay. Maybe it was time to head in to—

  What the fuck was that? Ian thought as the wind was knocked out of him and he doubled over. His lungs felt like they were on fire and the air around him started to hum.

  Brooks’s voice came from somewhere off in the distance. “Ian,” he said sharply. “You okay?”

  He felt Lyndsey whirl around rather than saw her. He vaguely registered her throwing off her helmet and muttering something about Sekhmet chicks not needing body armor; he realized she was reaching for his hands. As their skin touched, there was a sudden shock, bringing everything back into focus.

  His eyes met hers as she said, “Stay with me, okay? I want you to see me kick her ass.” Despite her strong words and confident smile, he could see she was uneasy and—for the second time that day—possibly even worried.

  The little episode seemed to be over, however, which was a good thing, because before Ian could even think about what had just happened, Matt came over the comms saying, “How close are you to shore?”

  “Fifty feet, give or take,” Ian answered, ignoring the pounding in his head as he glanced to his left. “Why?”

  “We’ve got a major storm on the radar. Looks like you’re heading into it.”

  Ian looked up. Nothing but clear skies. The rest of the signs couldn’t be any more obvious, though: it was definitely time to get off the water.

  Turning to Brooks and Malek, he was about to tell them to swing port when he saw their mouths drop open. Following their gaze, he didn’t see why at first—there was nothing in the sky, nothing on shore, nothing in…

  Oh.

  Not in the water—on it. Except there was no ‘there’ there, to hijack a phrase. It was like a shock wave speeding across the surface of the water, visible only by the water being churned up as it moved, half the lake being perfectly calm, the other half, a complete frenzy. The trees fared no better, split between utterly still and bending to the ground. And the sky’s pristine blue was slowly seeping away, leaving nothing but gray as a dark shadow crept toward them. All of this happened without a sound—no birds screaming or winds howling. Just utter silence with one exception: a low rumble from off in the distance.