by R. D. Brady
Maeve watched in stunned silence. She sensed no threat from the being. It stared at Alvie with what felt like concern. Then it turned to Maeve. She felt the presence of something in her mind, like fingers rifling through her memories and an image of her standing in front of Alvie, defying Henning, took center stage.
The being nodded, its lips turning up ever so slightly.
The voices behind them grew louder. Maeve looked between the two aliens. Damn it. She griped the door handle and turned it, but it was locked.
Her gaze met the being’s and she shook her head. “I can’t.” She looked down at Alvie. “Alvie, please, we have to go.”
Alvie kept his gaze on the being before turning to Maeve and nodding. He took her hand and started to run down the hall. As they reached the end, Maeve couldn’t help but look back. The being had moved to the edge of the door so he could watch them leave.
A lump formed in Maeve’s throat. I’m sorry, she thought as she ran to catch up with the rest, and she wondered who exactly she was leaving behind.
Chapter Seventy-Six
The trip to the stairwell from level four was happily uneventful. Now they’d made it another three flights without running into anyone, human or otherwise. Which was good because Maeve’s mind was filled with thoughts of the large gray they had seen. Alvie was part alien and part human. Had the gray been the other part? Did they somehow recognize one another?
Maeve hadn’t mentioned the gray to any of the others. She wasn’t sure why. Probably because she felt guilty—she had left him behind. Would she have left a human behind? At the same time, she also couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d understood. That he approved of her making Alvie and the triplets a priority.
With relief, she saw Chris wave them into the stairwell that would lead to the main foyer and safety. Maeve reached his side and he nodded inside.
“Watch out,” Chris said softly.
Maeve’s gaze dropped to the floor of the landing where Chris was carefully walking around a body. The poor man’s mouth was open in a silent scream. Next to him was a woman in a lab coat, lying face down, deep gashes in her back staining her jacket.
Greg started to reach down. “Should we—”
Chris shook his head. “They’re gone.”
Greg snatched his hand back, wrapping his arms around Crackle. “Oh.”
“Come on, we’re almost there.” Leslie gently pushed Greg forward.
He nodded, scooting around the two bodies. And Maeve noticed the tremor in his hands. Poor Greg. Her gaze strayed to each member of the group. Poor all of us.
And she hoped as she stepped onto the landing, that once they left the building, it would be smooth sailing. Because she really needed a break from all the excitement.
Chapter Seventy-Seven
Las Vegas, Nevada
Martin could not remember when a day at work had been so satisfying.
There was that time in the Congo when I had that overlord staked to the ground.
Martin mulled over the memory, the remembrance of the man’s screams still making him smile. He shook his head. No. Even that paled in comparison to today.
On one of the screens in front of him, a soldier managed to set a large gray on fire. The man stood back, horrified, as the gray flailed and screamed.
Innovative. Martin made a note.
His phone rang and a quick glance told him it was Hamish. He ignored it.
A minute later a knock on the door caused him to scowl. “Go away.”
“Sir, there’s a problem.”
Martin sighed. Why could no one just let him sit here and enjoy all his hard work? “Come in.”
Hamish ducked into the doorway.
Martin glared at him. “This better be good.”
“It’s not. I mean, it’s important, but it’s not good news.”
“Spit it out.”
“Secretary Heig contacted the President about 51.”
Martin narrowed his eyes. “She what?”
Hamish’s words came out in a rush. “John Forrester met with her at Edwards. An hour later she contacted the President. He knows what’s happening at 51.”
Forrester.
Unbidden, he reached up and touched the scar at the end of his right eyebrow. Every time he looked in the mirror he remembered the bastard. He should have killed him years ago. He thought about it every once in a while. But he also knew that Forrester was undeniably prepared for that. And although he'd taken care of the Senator and his files, he was sure Forrester had developed one on him as well. And Martin had some secrets he needed to remain in the dark.
“Sir?” Hamish asked.
Martin waved him away. “Just go.”
“Uh, yes, sir. Sorry.”
So she actually did it. But what Martin had said was true. Even if the President decided to act, it would take hours. But that meant Martin needed to start wrapping things up. Martin looked up at the screens and scrolling images.
All that knowledge. But all good things must come to an end.
He picked up the phone.
“Delta Station,” said a voice on the line.
“This is Director Drummond, ID Alpha Omega Two Three Tango Foxtrot.”
“Identity confirmed, Director.”
“Manhattan Protocol is a go.”
“Yes, sir. Two hours until launch.”
“Very good.” Martin disconnected the call and set the countdown clock on one of the screens. He watched the screens for a few moments more, just enjoying the view. But he supposed it was time. They were getting closer to the surface, and they could not be allowed off the base—none of them.
He frowned, watching the few humans left in Buildings 34 and 39. Humans were crafty creatures, even the ones you did not expect to be. He frowned, pulling up one of the screens. Dr. Leander again. She had stopped with Subject 1 at a door. A tall gray appeared on the other side. Martin zoomed in.
You were supposed to be already off the base. And no one was supposed to catch a glimpse of you.
He frowned, not liking that Leander had seen the gray. In fact, the survivors left in the two buildings had seen much more than they ever should. And that just wasn’t going to do.
He picked up his burner phone and dialed Henning. Henning picked up quickly. “Yes, sir.”
“Our operation is coming to a close, and I need to make sure that everyone on the base does not get off.”
“The aliens? Yes, sir, we’ll—"
“No, not just the aliens. There should be no witnesses. Have your men run down any stragglers.”
“Should we make it look like accidents? Because with autopsies—"
Martin watched the countdown clock—one hour, fifty-six minutes until the bomb was dropped. “Don’t worry about that. Just make sure no one gets off the base alive.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And I have a special assignment for you.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Dr. Leander and her crew will be exiting Building 34 in a short while. I’ve arranged a welcoming party. But on the off chance they get by them, prepare a second reception.”
There was an anticipation in Henning’s voice. “It will be a pleasure.”
Martin smiled. “I have no doubt.”
Chapter Seventy-Eight
Chris stopped outside the door leading to the foyer, waiting for everyone to join him. It seemed surreal that they had finally made it. Part of him had thought they’d never escape the lower levels. But he knew it wasn’t quite time to celebrate yet.
Leslie looked at Chris. “Okay, so we’re here. Do we have a plan?”
Chris nodded to Alvie and the three little ones. “Well, these four are going to be the issue. We can’t just wander out with them and expect everyone will be fine with it.”
“They might think we’re under their control,” Greg muttered, and Maeve realized he was right.
“I’m not leaving them. They’ll never survive on their own,” Maeve said.
“No one’s saying that,” Chris said. “We just need to talk our way, or more accurately, their way to safety. And once we step outside, there will be humans as well as aliens we need to deal with.”
“I’m not shooting any humans,” Leslie said, her voice steely.
“No one’s shooting any humans. But these guys aren’t a threat. You see that, right?” Maeve asked, her eyes pleading.
Leslie glanced from each of the aliens to Maeve. “I don’t think they should die. But the humans are my priority. I won’t apologize for that.”
“They’re part human, too,” Greg said softly.
Leslie opened her mouth and closed it. On the walk up, Greg had pestered Maeve for all the details on Alvie’s capabilities and background. “I know that. I just—” She sighed. “I will try to get anyone we run into to listen, okay? That’s the best I can offer right now.”
Maeve opened her mouth to speak, but Chris clamped his hand on her arm and she closed it. Chris knew Leslie. Duty came first for her. But he also knew she would do the right thing when the situation presented itself.
“That’s all we’re asking,” he said.
He turned to gaze at each of them. “Okay. Outside this door is a large foyer, then we need to go through the front doors and down the steps. We’re in the center of the base, to the west of the runways and to the east of the dorms. I’m hoping help is waiting right there beyond the doors for us. If not, we need to head to the tunnels, and the closest entrance according to Sheridan’s map is close to a mile away, underneath one of the hangars that was built into the side of the valley. That will be our destination. I’ll take the lead, then Maeve, Greg, and Leslie will bring up the rear.”
“Maybe one of us should go first. Maybe pave the way?” Greg suggested.
Chris met Leslie’s gaze. “We’re not leaving anyone in here.”
“Maybe we could wait in the foyer,” Leslie suggested. “There’s that big desk. We could hide behind it. Close enough to the front door to reach if we need to and far enough away from the stairwell that we’ll have enough of a heads-up if anyone appears.”
“I don’t like splitting up,” Chris said.
“Me either,” Greg said.
“But it will be safer for these guys,” Maeve looked at Chris. “You or Leslie should go talk to them. If they’ll listen to anyone, it’s you two. I’ll stay with these four.”
“I’ll stay too,” Greg said, and Maeve gave him a grateful smile.
Leslie nodded toward Chris. “You outrank me. You should go. I’ll keep everyone safe until you give us the all clear.”
Chris looked at each of them, hating the idea of walking out the door without them, but he also knew it was the right call.
“Okay. But I will be right back.” He looked at Leslie. “And if you see any signs of a problem, you get them out of here, all right?”
“You got it,” Leslie said. She turned to Greg and Maeve. “We’re heading for the desk. You stay behind Chris. I’ll bring up the rear. We say run, jump, duck—you don’t question, you just do it.”
Maeve and Greg nodded. And Chris watched Alvie do the same. “Greg, Maeve, and Alvie will take the triplets to leave me and Leslie free to maneuver. Okay? Everybody got it?”
Chris kept his tone brusque and all business, but he felt the weight of the responsibility on him. The responsibility for the lives of each person with him and four aliens. His gaze passed over each of the little ones. Someone had created half humans. He still couldn’t wrap his mind around that. But he did know one thing: they deserved a shot at a life. They didn’t deserve to be in the middle of all of this. He just wasn’t sure he was going to be able to give it to them.
At the same time, he agreed with Leslie—he wasn’t going to shoot his brothers and sisters in arms. They were following orders, and they didn’t know Alvie. Chris would just have to convince them to spare these guys.
At the same time, if he failed, he knew he wouldn’t be able to sit back and watch Alvie and the triplets be harmed.
No, not harmed, gunned down in cold blood.
He shuddered as an image of Alvie being shot floated through his mind. But what would he do? What could he do if it came to that? Would he be able to sit back and watch Alvie be harmed? Or Maeve? Because he was sure that no matter the cost to her, Maeve would protect Alvie with her very life.
And Chris knew he would do the same for her.
Chapter Seventy-Nine
Maeve’s heart was pounding through her chest as Chris pushed open the door leading into the foyer. Sunshine blazed through the glass windows, a startling contrast to the terror of what was happening underneath them. But across the floor she could see signs of that turmoil. Blood was smeared across the floor in a half dozen spots, one smudged trail leading to the front door. More blood was splashed in an arc across a few of the walls. Bullet holes also dotted the walls, and one of the floor-to-ceiling windows was smashed to pieces.
Maeve blinked hard at the light. Alvie turned his back to it as each of the triplets scrunched down low with a small cry.
“What’s wrong with them?” Greg asked.
“Damn it, I forgot.”
She reached into her pocket. “It’s the light. Their eyes are really sensitive to it. Alvie’s going to have trouble seeing.” She pulled a pair of shaded goggles out. “I grabbed these in the lab with Sheridan.”
“Hold on a sec.” Taking the goggles, Chris knelt in front of Alvie, carefully adjusting them before gently placing them over Alvie’s head and securing them. “That okay, buddy?”
Alvie nodded.
“You stay behind Maeve, okay?”
Alvie leaned forward, placing his forehead on Chris’s. And Maeve wanted to cry. That was Alvie’s version of a hug. Chris wrapped an arm around Alvie, his voice a little unsteady. “I know, buddy. We’ll get them to safety.”
He stood, and Maeve caught the flash of pain in his eyes before he covered it. “Okay. Time to go.” Chris started for the door, looking out the window.
Leslie nodded at Maeve when Chris was about twenty feet away. “Okay. Get going.”
They all trooped forward single file. Maeve hugged Pop to her, murmuring quietly. “It’s going to be all right. Keep your eyes closed. You’re going to be all right.”
She kept murmuring reassurances as they crossed the tiled floor, their footsteps echoing loudly. She heard Greg doing the same behind her.
Ahead of her Chris stopped, putting up his hand. And then the windows shattered as bullets crashed through it.
Chapter Eighty
Maeve dove for the floor as Chris’s voice rang out. “Get down. Get down!”
Maeve crawled back behind the front desk, Snap curled in her arms. Alvie was already there, and Greg dove in to join them, followed by Chris and Leslie.
“What the hell?” Greg asked.
Chris looked at Leslie, shock splashed across his face. “That was aimed at me.”
Leslie shook her head. “They must have seen the aliens. That’s the only explanation.”
“Then they have the worst shots out there,” Chris growled as he held up his shirt sleeve, which had a bullet hole through it.
“There’s got to be some kind of mistake. They wouldn’t—” Leslie’s voice cut off as the unmistakable sound of canisters hitting the ground reached them.
“Go!” Chris yelled. He grabbed Maeve’s arm and Alvie’s and pushed them toward the back of the foyer. White smoke curled from three canisters in front of the desk.
Maeve slammed her mouth shut as Chris pushed her down a hallway. Greg and Leslie stumbled behind them. The hallway ended, and Chris kicked open the last door. Maeve stumbled in and barely got out of the way as Greg fell through the doorway. Leslie slammed the door shut as Chris yanked a drape off the window and shoved it in the bottom of the door.
“God damn it,” Chris said.
“What’s going on?” Greg asked, his eyes huge.
“Tear gas is not meant for aliens. They were tr
ying to smoke us out,” Leslie growled.
Maeve helped Greg to his feet. “What does that mean?”
“It means,” Chris said, “that they’re not just targeting these guys. We’re free game now as well.”
Chapter Eighty-One
Maeve felt the terror steal over her. She had thought they would at least have a chance to try and convince whoever was outside that Alvie and the triplets were peaceful. But apparently whoever was out there was not going to be interested in that. In fact, they seemed more concerned with wiping out everyone, alien or otherwise.
“But why?” Greg asked. “I mean, we’re human, obviously.”
“Something’s changed. Maybe they think we’re corrupted or infected or something,” Leslie said.
Greg’s words came out in a rush. “They have to have the building surrounded. How are we going to get out? I mean, I would just surround the building. They know all of us will break for the surface. We can’t get out. We can’t—”
Chris cut into Greg’s panicked ramblings. “Okay. Enough. We didn’t get through twelve floors of the world’s most terrifying zoo to stop now. There’s always a way. We just need to figure it out.”
Maeve looked over the group. Chris and Leslie looked pissed. Greg looked terrified, and she was pretty sure she looked the same. And Alvie—he just looked sad.
No. This was not how it was going to end. Maeve let her anger build up thinking about how much she and her mother had devoted to this program. Her whole life had been built around Alvie and there was no way in hell she was letting the government decide her life and Alvie’s were now over. She’d given this government enough. She was not handing them her life. Not without a fight.
Now I just need to figure out how to get us through the armed barricade surrounding the building.