by Lyn Gala
“Is Zhu inside?”
“Fuck off.”
“Why do you show such loyalty to him?”
The question startled Tank, in part because the answer should have been obvious. “He’s my friend. Maybe you people don’t get friendship. Maybe you guys make a game out of killing each other. After all, the ship makes humans fight to the death. Is that your culture? Are you always trying to find someone smaller or weaker to slaughter?”
“You have a word for the abomination that occurs on the ship. Gladiator. Therefore, the concept of pitting humans against each other in combat is within your culture.”
“We have a historical word for it. Humans haven’t used mortal combat as a spectator sport for thousands of years. You’re doing it now.”
“Why do you remain loyal to Zhu? You betrayed your friendship with Roger.”
“I didn’t betray Roger. He betrayed us. And that’s your fault. You guys made him think he was going to die and then promised to give him eternal life or power or something that was pretty much the opposite of dying. Did you get good research data out of that?”
“I require a human to continue my work. I would rather have Zhu. Help me identify his current location, and I will have no need of you.”
Tank’s stomach knotted. He prayed that Colonel Aldrich never let Zhu or Marie hear the recording. All of them carried enough guilt over the deaths of Ellie and Roger. No one deserved to feel guilty for Tank’s death, especially since he knew Zhu would have made that trade in a second. Understanding the depths of Zhu’s loyalty gave Tank the strength to look Chow in the eye and say “Fuck you.” He gritted his teeth before anything more cowardly could slip out.
Chow dug his fingers into the tendon in Tank’s ankle, and Tank bit down on a scream. The pain built until Tank was writhing and struggling to escape. He knew it was futile, but he couldn’t control the animal instinct to pull away. Then Chow let go.
Tank was draped awkwardly across the center armrest, his spine twisted painfully. He didn’t have time to even straighten up before Chow’s avatar gave him a strange smile and started collapsing. At first Chow looked like a balloon deflating, his face crumpling inward as the air seemed to go out of him, but then a crack appeared, and another, and his limbs started turning to dust that fell on the seat and floor of the sedan.
The passenger doors, front and back, came open as the last of Chow disintegrated. “Drive, drive, drive,” Marie said as she jumped into the back seat. John stood at the passenger-side front door and didn’t look at Tank for more than a second before reaching for him. Without a word, John caught Tank by his shirt and shoved him between the front seats into the back. Tank landed on Marie as John dove across to reach the driver’s side.
Mr. Chow’s dust or ashes or whatever they were swirled up into the air as John started the car and peeled out of the parking lot far faster than the law allowed. Clearly, under certain circumstances, John was very capable of driving just as badly as Colonel Aldrich.
Chapter Thirty-Two
CLYDE RUBBED his hand over his face as Private Tankersley finished his report and offered up his phone. Captain Black was running the security team on this op, and he stood at Clyde’s side. The rest of the team was holding the perimeter, although having a briefing in a parking garage wasn’t ideal under any circumstances. The sun was still low in the sky, and most of the surrounding skyscrapers blocked what little light there was, so the flickering fluorescent lights cast shadows under each of the cars. Marie reached for the phone, but Captain Black took it before she could. What a clusterfuck. In the twelve years Clyde had run the program, he’d never seen a situation this fucked up. He’d be tempted to doubt the veracity of the report except for Tankersley’s recording. Clyde had found that people tended to be honest in the face of irrefutable evidence. Usually.
“Are you crazy, poking at Zhu’s father like that?” Marie demanded.
“Good job getting the recording,” Captain Black said. Tankersley was still looking at Clyde hopefully.
Clyde nodded. “That was quick thinking, and you got us critical information. Good job, Private.” If Clyde had heard of a random private who had kept his head and done that well, he would have nagged the general endlessly about recruiting him. Few kept their cool in that sort of situation.
John spoke up. “The alien wouldn’t have deactivated the avatar unless he’d gotten what he wanted.” John wasn’t usually prone to stating the obvious, and that did seem to qualify.
“What was that thing he ran over my arm?” Tankersley rubbed his forearm. The man was smart enough to recognize that the alien tech might have been the whole point of the exercise, although if that were the case, Clyde wasn’t sure why the alien had targeted Tankersley.
“Does it hurt?” Marie shoved Captain Black aside to reach for Tank’s arm.
“I’m fine,” Tankersley said firmly as he pulled out of Marie’s grip.
The only person who had any chance of figuring out what Chow might have done would be Lev. Clyde turned to one of the security team members. “Take Private Tankersley to the tech unit. Have them check for any energy signatures.”
“Yes, sir,” the corporal responded before he put a hand on Tankersley’s shoulder to urge him toward the vehicles.
Tankersley turned green, although he must have already considered the possibility the alien had just put a tracker in him. That was the sort of problem that the military couldn’t fix, not without amputating Tankersley’s arm—and even then, alien tech tended to spread and integrate like a virus or creeping ivy. Clyde had to talk to the general.
“You’re not going to sideline me that easily,” Marie said fiercely.
“I’m not trying to.” Clyde knew better. She could kick his ass with her legs tied. “But you haven’t trained with the unit, and until you have, you’re more dangerous to us than to the aliens. Black, brief her on Chicago.” Clyde headed for his SUV. He’d parked close to the perimeter, and two of his guys nodded at him as he approached their location. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Marie take a step toward him. John intercepted her with a hand on her arm, and Clyde left Captain Black and John to sort that mess.
If this was another Chicago, they needed a hell of a lot more backup. The alien running that experiment had set himself up as a drug dealer and then provided a number of designer drugs at discount prices. The customers who were lucky got souped-up versions of street drugs that left them high as a kite for a week. The unlucky ones ended up dead. The psychologists thought the aliens had been curious about the nature of addiction and were either testing the risk-aversion of addicts or looking at ways to intensify or reduce dependence.
To Clyde, it didn’t matter. The aliens fucked with people’s lives, and that was enough for him to go in and shut the experiment down. However, no one had anticipated that the alien would continue to act in character. He ordered his human flunkies to open fire on the unit, then picked up a semiautomatic weapon and tried his best to kill the entire Incursion Force. Clyde’s guys had won the Chicago fight, but the price had been too high. Chicago had been the only fatalities Clyde’s unit had suffered during his time as CO, and if this alien was going that route—if he was going to get directly involved—Clyde planned to be ready.
Once in the SUV, Clyde started the engine and turned on the white-noise generator before he called General Zeller on his secure line.
The general picked up on the first ring, which was a good indicator that he’d been following the action through the vehicle surveillance systems. Clyde wondered if Tank would have acted differently if he’d known he was being video recorded for the general. Honestly, Clyde wasn’t sure the kid had the self-preservation instincts required to go out of his way to impress superior officers.
“Colonel,” the general said.
“Sir, I assume you’re briefed on Private Tankersley’s confrontation.” Clyde didn’t have access to surveillance in the field, and he hadn’t had time to review Tankersley’s phone, but h
e had the unpleasant feeling the private had described the incident accurately.
“I saw most of it. Do you have a report on the technology the avatar used on the private’s arm?”
“No, sir. I ordered him to report to Dr. Underwood. John didn’t seem to recognize it.”
“Unfortunate.” General Zeller sighed.
“Sir, I’d like permission to bring in the full unit.” Clyde had fourteen more military assets back in Alaska. Normally those troops were for internal security and backup, but if there was a chance of another Chicago, he wanted all his people on deck.
General Zeller hesitated long enough that Clyde knew bad news was coming. “Colonel, that’s a problem. In today’s political climate, it’s difficult to hide Army maneuvers on American soil. And ending this incursion will take major maneuvers. Chow has established himself as a business leader with significant ties to organized crime.”
If this was a hub and the aliens were generating human currency, it actually made sense to work with criminal gangs, but it made the IF’s life more difficult. “He could have a lot of humans working for him,” Clyde said. He didn’t like the thought of going into a fight with the intention of shooting American citizens, not even criminal ones. However, he also didn’t want to take a small team into a potential trap.
“Agreed. That’s why I’m going to call in the FBI.”
For a second, shock robbed Clyde of the ability to speak. For the second after that, he had to rein in his desire to curse out the general. “Sir, I don’t care how many humans are involved, the biggest danger will be the avatars and the alien technology.”
“Colonel, we’ve never seen the aliens use advanced technology against human forces that are unaware of its existence. If they hold true to form, they won’t use alien weapons against the FBI.”
“This alien is a little on the strange side. I wouldn’t count on him to follow the rules.” Personally, Clyde was ready to throw out the rule book. Chow certainly had.
Sounding distinctly unhappy, General Zeller said, “That’s a chance we’re going to have to take.”
“Sir, respectfully, I believe my unit is best able to counter the threat.”
“Yes, but can you do it without being seen by civilians?”
“We could disguise ourselves as FBI agents. I’ll pick up a few ski masks, and we’ll be good to go, sir.” Clyde already knew he was going to get shot down, but he had to offer some sort of solution other than bringing in another force.
“Colonel, fifteen years ago you could have. However, we can’t take the risk of having politicians who are unaware of our presence asking questions, and bringing the full unit down would risk exposing us to an unacceptable degree. The decision to bring in the FBI is final.”
“Yes, sir.”
“You have permission to be cranky about this,” the general offered, a touch of humor in his voice.
“Thank you, sir. I plan to take full advantage of that offer. I am concerned that this alien could compromise our security. Are you prepared to have a few dozen FBI agents in on the secret?”
“I think the risk is greater if we have military assets attacking a New York City businessman and some civilian catches it on cell phone footage. A leak within law enforcement can be contained.”
Clyde wasn’t so sure of that, but he didn’t have to play politics, so General Zeller had a better understanding of the big picture. “Yes, sir. Can I remain on scene?”
“You and the technical team will all stay. The cover is that Chow received highly classified Army weaponry stolen from a testing site. His son came to us when he found his father was trafficking in stolen military hardware. You are to introduce yourself as working with Criminal Investigation Command. Take the scientists and secure all technology while allowing the FBI to arrest anyone on scene.”
“Anyone who doesn’t dissolve, anyway,” Clyde said dryly.
“Yes, any dissolving avatars will fall outside their jurisdiction.” General Zeller laid on the sarcasm so heavy that even through the phone Clyde could practically hear the general’s eyes rolling. “If anyone sees too much, forward their names, and we’ll step in before the information can go too far.”
“I still have a bad feeling about this, sir.”
“Noted. Now send your security assets back to base and prepare to meet an FBI team at the coordinates I’m sending.” Clyde looked at his secure cell phone, and a map opened with a parking structure marked in yellow. The structure was close enough that the aliens might be monitoring. Either that would encourage them to pack up before a major confrontation, or Clyde would be sending the FBI into a trap.
“Can I keep John with me?” Clyde asked the general. Major Sadler could kick some major ass with a wide range of weaponry, but it wasn’t the same. She was science side, and she didn’t spend as much time in combat training as John.
“Mr. Doe tends to stand out from the crowd. Are you sure you want him there?”
“The stranger the merrier, sir. Besides, if I’m going in without any combat troops, I’d feel better if John was there to ride herd on Dr. Underwood’s team. Major Sadler is vicious enough to keep her people in line, but Lev’s team is a little light in the military-assets department.”
“Agreed. If you think he’d be helpful, keep him.”
“And the two civilians?” Clyde wasn’t as thrilled about having them in the middle of this, but he had seen enough modified humans to know that Byrne wouldn’t be able to stay out of the fight. Tuning up human aggression had a number of side effects, but patience was not one. He’d rather keep her with him, where at least John and Zhu Chow would have a chance to contain her, especially since she wouldn’t take his orders.
“Which two?” Zeller asked cautiously.
“Byrne and Zhu Chow. I’d like to keep them on scene and in reserve.”
“Do you think the alien will target Chow?”
That would be Clyde’s other reason for not sending those two back to Zeller or having them sent up to Alaska. Until this group of aliens was officially off the planet, Clyde was a little nervous about who might track them, especially Chow, given the alien’s relationship with him. “I have no idea, sir. If the man were that important, wouldn’t the alien have put some sort of tracker in him?”
“One would think so, but the psychologists keep warning us to avoid making human assumptions and assigning human motivations.”
“Permission to express an unflattering opinion freely, sir?” Clyde asked.
“Denied,” General Zeller said. “I am very aware of your opinion on the psychology department.”
Given the number of bad predictions the group made, Clyde figured he had a right to talk crap about them.
“If you want to keep Chow on-site, we have an excuse since we told the FBI he’s our informant.” Zeller continued, “What’s your story with Byrne?”
“She’s his girlfriend who annoyed me by showing up uninvited.”
“That sounds suspiciously close to the truth. Will you keep Private Tankersley on scene as well?”
Clyde wanted to boot Tankersley’s ass right back to civilian life, but he was too pragmatic about Tankersley’s skills and too wary of the fit Lev would throw. “He’s good with alien technology, and banning him might lead Dr. Underwood to leave with him.”
General Zeller paused before answering. “Are they that serious?” Now he sounded worried—but then, things that threatened the greatest living expert on alien technology did tend to make military strategists twitch.
“Unfortunately.” Clyde still wished Lev could have fallen for someone nicely boring. The man’s taste in lovers sucked.
“Colonel, we cannot afford to lose Dr. Underwood.”
“Sir, there is no chance of that,” Clyde reassured the general. “Dr. Underwood and Private Tankersley are both committed to the program, but if I ban the private from the field, Dr. Underwood might choose to return to base with him and direct the salvage operation from there.”
�
�And his team lacks his more intuitive nature with the technology.” General Zeller’s voice was slow and thoughtful.
“I would have phrased that differently, but yes, sir.”
General Zeller sighed. “I’m glad I don’t have your job, Colonel. Take whatever steps you deem necessary to get the job done. Move in after the FBI and get every piece of technology.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And, Colonel?” Zeller paused. “Keep your people safe.”
“Yes, sir,” Clyde answered. The call disconnected, leaving Clyde to send his combat team home and meet the FBI. Joy.
Chapter Thirty-Three
JOHN CLENCHED and unclenched his fists before shaking out his arms. “I don’t know why we have to wait.”
Tank agreed. No one could handle aliens better than them. The FBI couldn’t. But the entire science team was crammed into a white delivery van stuffed full of technology while the FBI assault team secured the building. Lev rested his hand on Tank’s knee. Ever since he had failed to find anything in Tank’s arm, Lev had become overprotective. The idea of someone worrying about him made Tank want to kiss the shit out of Lev. Tank just wasn’t sure how Aldrich would react to Lev trying to protect him when it was Tank’s job to provide the security. Luckily that was a moot point at the moment because they were all stuck waiting.
The van was lit with the computers and technical equipment that took up a third of the floor space, and the flashing blue and orange lights cast strange shadows on all of them. Colonel Aldrich paced unhappily in the narrow aisle, and Tank was pretty sure John and Marie were about to make a break for it and start killing.
John was sitting in the passenger-side captain’s chair, and the rest of them were crowded onto the bench bolted to the passenger side of the van opposite the wall of tech. Zhu threaded his fingers between Marie’s and stroked her arm, so maybe he was just as worried about the odds that Marie would run out of patience.