by Nathan Combs
She took a sip of water. “What I just told you represents the good things about Nina. The bad side is so dark and evil it defies comprehension.”
The assembled men and women were captivated and holding their breath. Wade and Randal had never heard Nina described in this detail, and Wade thought, I should have talked to Sara about this a long time ago.
Standing silent for several seconds, she looked around the room, then shook her head slowly from side to side. “I have watched this creature gut captured babies and young children in front of their parents and eat them alive. She sucked the blood out of them like a vampire, ate their livers raw, and threw their thrashing carcasses to her adoring horde. Immediately afterward, she would leave. On occasion, she would have sex on the stage, often in the pool of her victims’ blood. I’ve seen her behead more people than I can count. She controls everything The Light does. She revels in what they call the roasting ceremony, where captives, and sometimes their own members, are beheaded, roasted, and eaten. Her people adore her, and most of them would die for her. The entire group is demented and evil. And if there is a God, then there is also a devil. And trust me when I tell you, the devil is afraid of Nina Lutrova.”
Sighing heavily, she shuddered and sat down.
The wall clock ticked. The silence was numbing.
After a long moment, Wade stood and said, “Thank you, Sara. I know that wasn’t easy for you to do. Doctor Givens, your professional opinion regarding Nina’s personality?”
Doctor Givens was pale. Standing, he slowly shook his head from side to side. “Sara said it all when she said this creature—I am loathe to call her a woman—was an enigma. My take is that Nina—I guess I should refer to her as Nina—doesn’t fit into any known psychological category.” Looking at Sara with newfound respect, he said, “You’re right, Sara, Nina appears to be a composite of every psychological definition known to man. And perhaps a few that were never diagnosed.”
Turning to Wade, he said, “Nina is an extremely dangerous threat, but you already know that. There’s not much I can add to what Sara told us, Captain, other than two areas that caught my attention. Assuming vengeance is her main emotion, I think it’s likely she feeds off it. My guess is it’s become an obsession, possibly an addiction. Correct me if I’m wrong, but it appears she could leave this area anytime she wanted to, and by doing so, wouldn’t have to deal with you hunting her. The other thing that’s apparent to me is that her ego, for lack of a better term, is ridiculously huge. That may turn out to be her Achilles heel. I suggest you focus your efforts to eliminate her around that ego. There is also the possibility that revenge is the emotional trigger motivating her. I realize you would like a more clinical description, Captain, but that’s the best I can offer you right now.”
“Thank you, Doctor. Okay, people. You know what we’re up against. Sara believes she’s going to go ballistic when she finds out her clone-bomb scheme failed. The first question I want answered is: how? How does she find out her plan didn’t work?”
There was silence for a full minute until Randal spoke up. “We know she’s capable of getting her people into Fort Hope. I think it’s safe to assume she knows we’re onto her Light tattoo, so we’re not likely to see another person trying to get into Fort Hope with that ink. Olivia—if that was her name—didn’t have the tattoo, so it’s probable there’re others without it. My guess is she had a clean operative inside who was scheduled to report back on the success of the mission. Let’s ask the gate guards how many people left since the attempt. There can’t be that many.”
Wade said, “Good.” Turning to Tyler Little Soldier, he said, “Tyler, handle that.”
Little Soldier left for the gate, and Wade continued. “Knowing Nina had a spy in our midst isn’t going to help us find her. We have to figure out where she headquarters. We believe she changes locations every two or three days. If we can find where they’re quartered, we can take her out. We came close at the church in Knoxville, but she knew we were coming and deployed a blocking force that allowed her people to escape. If Sara’s right, and I’m sure she is, Nina will retaliate quickly and decisively. We need a solution yesterday. Put your thinking caps on, Ladies and Gentlemen. We’ll reconvene in fifteen minutes.”
When the meeting resumed, Tyler informed the group that the only person who departed since Olivia’s arrival was a young girl who left roughly six hours after the clone incident. “The guard who talked to her said she was a cute, feisty, short, and skinny brunette. He tried to dissuade her from leaving, but she was adamant that she didn’t feel safe at Fort Hope and was going to stay with people she knew near Gateway. The other guard said she resembled a blonde-haired girl who came in just before the school bombing and left a couple of days afterward.”
Wade said, “Changing hair color would be the logical thing to do, so it’s likely she was the inside source and the school bomber too. If she shows up, the guards will hold her. Does anyone have a suggestion on how we can locate their camp?”
Randal said, “We’ve all come to the same conclusion, Dad. Sending our guys looking for a needle in a haystack is counterproductive. We need to wait for her to come to us. I want to increase patrols and put snipers out to a radius of two miles. It’s been roughly sixteen hours since the girl left. These are all assumptions, but if she needed four to eight hours to get to wherever Nina is quartered, and let’s say eight to twelve hours to mount a response, then we could be hearing from her by tomorrow morning. I want to get the sniper teams and horse patrols out ASAP, and I’d like to utilize the Bradleys and the Hummers. We’re only going to get one shot at this. Let’s make it our best.”
Wade was thoughtful, then nodded. “Okay. Do it. We need to be ready to react to whatever she’s planning. And our response has to be overwhelming. Let’s work up a game plan.”
The meeting ended, and Randal headed to the command center to put the horse patrols and sniper teams together. Wade and Bill remained in the cafeteria and stood staring out the dirty windows. Wade took a last look at the main gate, turned, and asked, “What are we missing, Bill?”
“A corpse.”
“Bill, I’m serious.”
“So am I. I’m sick of her killing us like we’re fish in a barrel. I’m sick of her goddamn guerilla fucking warfare tactics, and I’m even sicker of this little dipshit making us look like a bunch of fuckin’ recruits. I assume we’re keeping a Bradley here as a rover.”
“Yeah. You, Randal, and I will stay here and act as control, and we can respond to any hotspots. Why don’t you ensure it’s loaded with the gear we’ll need? Throw in a few jerry cans of gas too.”
“Okay. But, I was thinking. The only time we ever saw this miserable bitch was in Robbinsville. As far as we know, she hasn’t accompanied one patrol. Not one attack. Nothing. Maybe she’s chickenshit.”
“The thought crossed my mind, but I don’t think she’s a coward. She’s the brain. And I think she analyzes every move she intends to make and evaluates it from every angle. That’s why she doesn’t make mistakes. She’s as thorough as anyone I’ve ever seen. In the sense that she never involves herself personally, she operates like any competent commander. I’m willing to bet when we find her, she has a contingency plan for her own escape. She probably bunks separately from the others, too. She’s not going to risk her own ass. Not because she’s afraid, but because she’s smart enough to know that without her, The Light’s just another band of derelicts.”
“Hmm. All right, then. When we find her, let’s make sure the bitch doesn’t break out in a different direction from her clan.”
Wade nodded and clapped Bill on the back. “After you finish with the Bradley, help Randal set up the patrols, will you? I have to get with Stuart and go over the security protocols for Zion and Gateway. They’re far more vulnerable than Fort Hope.”
“Maybe you should consider brin
ging the residents here ’til it’s over.”
“I thought about that, but if Nina attacks either one of them and they’re vacant, she’d burn them to the ground. We’re stuck.”
“What if we set extra sniper teams around both villages and double their security forces?”
“That’s probably the only realistic option we have.”
An hour later Randal pulled the sat-map and showed Wade where the horse patrols and sniper teams would be located. “It’s getting foggy out, Dad. That’s gonna cause problems. We only have enough thermal imaging gear for the sniper teams and less than half of the horse patrols.”
“Yeah, the fog’s gonna work in her favor. Nothing we can do about it. What else?”
“That’s it. The sniper teams have already left and the horse patrols are heading out now. The vehicles are on station. What about the villages?”
“Stuart sent an additional thirty men and ten sniper teams. Let’s hope that’s enough. My gut tells me she’s coming for Fort Hope.”
Chapter Two
Reprisal
Heather’s delicate body trembled with anticipation as she hunkered in a snow-covered juniper patch at the southeast front corner of the school building. The position offered concealment and a good view of Fort Hope’s front gate and operations center. After a five-minute wait that seemed like five hours, she watched one of the gate guards sprint to the cafeteria and disappear inside. Almost instantly, Coltrane and five men hustled to the ops building. Flanked by two guards, Olivia soon appeared and walked slowly to the command center, climbed the steps, and disappeared into the belly of the beast.
Heather’s heart was beating wildly against her chest as she waited for the explosion that would signify the end of Wade The Bastard Coltrane. Instead, she heard two muffled gunshots and watched men rush through the door, then gather in the parking lot. Brown eyes wide with astonishment, she tracked Coltrane as he walked out of the ops center and stood calmly talking to the group of men. She couldn’t hear what he was saying because she was too far away, but when he finished, two men went back inside the ops center. In short order, Olivia’s body was carried to a far corner of the parking lot and placed gently on the tarmac. Horrified, she watched as they stripped her. Two minutes later, one of them triumphantly held the bomb aloft, then walked a short distance away and carefully put it down on the blacktop. Olivia’s lifeless body was wrapped in a blanket. One of them picked her up and threw her body over his shoulder like a sack of trash and headed to the medical facility.
Heather was incredulous. Her eyes filled with tears and the bitter taste of bile filled her mouth. A sudden chill swept over her. She started to hyperventilate. Eyes wide, mouth open, she gasped desperately for air.
Olivia is dead and Coltrane is still alive? How is that possible?
She blinked her eyes rapidly, trying to comprehend what happened. She was confused, couldn’t think. She froze, eyes refusing to focus, and stared into space until a wind gust pushed the juniper bushes against the building. The swishing sound penetrated her consciousness and she shook her head. She was vulnerable. She took a deep breath of the cold January air and forced herself to think. Her friend and lover died for nothing. The mission to kill Coltrane failed. She took another deep breath. Then another. The frigid air seared her lungs, burning its way into her brain, and she stopped crying and looked around. All eyes were on the parking lot. Wiping tears away with the backs of her hands, she cautiously stood, hurried to her one-bedroom apartment in an old converted office building, and packed her meager belongings. She double-timed it to the stable, saddled her horse, and headed for the main gate.
The guards were on heightened alert and attempted to dissuade her from leaving, but she told them she no longer felt safe at Fort Hope and was going to visit friends in Gateway. Since there were no directives to stop her, they opened the gate and she rode through.
After a diversionary two miles north, she turned east, and ten minutes later headed south to Kingston, Tennessee, twenty miles west of Fort Hope.
The Light was headquartered at the Roan County High School in Kingston and she covered the distance in less than two hours. While she rode, she’d racked her brain trying to figure out how they knew Olivia had a bomb inside her, with no success. Within sight of the school, she dismounted and sat under an ancient, gnarled oak.
How can I tell Nina? What am I gonna tell her?
The sky was leaden, pregnant with snow, and a cold wind gust wormed its way inside her thin leather jacket. She shivered, wishing she had worn warmer clothing. A minute passed. Then another. Realizing she couldn’t put it off any longer, she stood and stared with dread at the school. She looked at the gnarly limbs hanging over her like gigantic accusatory fingers.
She screamed inwardly. Why?
It started to snow. She held out her hand and watched mesmerized as the flakes melted on her palm. She turned her face toward the heavens. Get your shit together! She shivered violently, shook her head and, eyes filled with tears, mounted and rode to face Nina.
Ten minutes later, she entered the decaying school. The door guard took her to a rear building and pointed out Nina’s room. She vacillated, staring in dread at the door for several minutes before working up the courage to go forward. A minute later, she stood in front of it. Shaking, she took a deep breath. Another. One more. Her hand rose. Paused. She rapped lightly.
The door opened immediately. Nina’s beauty always thrilled her. She gasped. Looking into those probing blue eyes, she broke down and started to cry.
Nina pulled her into the room and held her. Massive sobs racked Heather’s small, frail body, and she clung to Nina with the desperation of one drowning. Lightly stroking her face, Nina said, “It’ll be okay, Baby. I’ll miss her too, but we still have each other.”
Realizing that Nina thought she was upset because Olivia had sacrificed herself on the altar of revenge, Heather stifled a scream and buried her face in the soft glossy hair that covered Nina’s neck. She momentarily considered concocting a story that the bomb killed them all, but ultimately pulled away. Taking Nina’s face in her hands, between sobs and gasps for air, she cried softly, “It didn’t work, Nina. They killed her before she could blow them up.”
Nina’s arms were still locked around her waist, and for a nanosecond, she stiffened. The sudden tautness of her body was so brief she wasn’t sure if she felt it or imagined it. The familiar softness of Nina’s body returned, and she continued to hold Heather for another thirty seconds. She pulled away, took Heather’s face in her hands, and calmly asked, “What happened?”
“I don’t know. Everything went exactly as you said it would. The gate guard ran to get Coltrane, and he and a bunch of others went into the command center. A few minutes later, they escorted Olivia inside and there were two gunshots; then they all ran out.”
She went on to describe the aftermath.
Nina remained quiet, displayed no emotion, and stood statue-like, staring into space. After a short period, she nodded and, in a matter-of-fact voice, said, “They’re smarter than I thought they were. Obviously, Olivia said something that tipped them off.” Gently cupping Heather’s chin, she said, “They’ll pay. Horst and Cougar are in the gym with the rest of the family. Go get them.”
Although Horst and Cougar were part of Nina’s staff, they were never informed of the clone operation. When they entered her room ten minutes later, one look told them their queen was not a happy camper. Nina stood unmoving, staring out a weathered window. She didn’t acknowledge their presence, so they stood and waited. After an uncomfortably long time, Horst said softly, “Nina?”
Turning slowly to face them, she said, “Don’t look for a chair, Horst. You aren’t gonna be here that long.”
Hands on hips, she briefed them on the failed mission and ended by saying, “I intended to complete that operation myself,
but Heather and Olivia talked me out of it. I don’t know how they knew she had a bomb inside of her, but it doesn’t matter. She’s dead and the mission failed.”
Horst was apprehensive, and his face told Nina he thought she was blaming him. “I’m not asking you to explain it, Horst. The fact you were once part of Fort Hope is irrelevant. And your ordnance expertise is not in question. Unfortunately, Cougar, there’s no way to remove those stupid tattoos and replace your filed teeth. You’re never getting inside. But I promise you, in a short time, Fort Hope will be ours. Olivia’s gone, and that bastard Coltrane is still breathing. He’s like a cat. But he’s out of lives. He just doesn’t know it yet. We’re ramping up our attacks.”
Turning to Horst, she asked, “Are the mortars ready?” She was referring to the four brand new M224A1 mortars still in their original crates Horst found in an abandoned farmhouse. For the past two weeks, he’d been training two teams to set up and operate them.
With a big grin, he said, “Nina, those babies have an effective range of 3500 meters. That’s just over two miles. I have HE, high explosive rounds, set for impact detonation, and WP, white phosphorus rounds, set for proximity blast. That means they’ll explode above the target and ignite anything in the immediate area.”
Nina was annoyed. “I know the metric system, Horst. And I know what an HE and a Willy Pete round is, too. I assume you explained that for Cougar’s benefit?”
Sheepishly, Horst replied, “Of course I did.”
“All right, it appears the mortars are good to go. What about the teams?”
“I just started training them, Nina. They aren’t quite up to speed, but we can make do.” Horst waited briefly for Nina’s response, and when none came, asked, “What do you want me to do?”