Winter's Legacy: Future Days (Winter's Saga Book 6)

by Karen Luellen

  “Ladies and gentlemen, I introduce two teams to you. First, I fly toward our target with a company of nearly three dozen.” Williams didn’t bother panning the camera. He was enjoying the flinches and wide-eyed stares the image of his raw face was eliciting from Arkdone’s people. “This team is headed-up by Company Leader Kerry Braden.” Williams motioned for someone off-screen to step up. A hulking figure of a man with red hair, fully dressed in combat camouflage ducked into the seat beside Dr. Williams. He offered a sharp up-nod into the camera, eyes narrowed with shrewd aggression.

  Williams tipped the camera back toward himself. “My second team is already at the Winter Ranch.” He puffed up his chest with pride. “Company 17 is made of another three dozen. Company Leader Rhett Hays has established a working base two miles due north of the target. A reconnaissance team has confirmed my daugh—” Williams stopped himself, covering his slip with a wet, phlegmy cough. “Meg Winter is at the ranch by herself. We know the rest of the clan is en route, though their arrival is still several hours away.”

  “Our immediate timeline looks like this,” Williams screen switched to the presentation he’d constructed.

  “Company 17 originated in Germany and arrived in Texas at sixteen-forty-five hours, U.S. Central Standard Time. The metamonarchs, coming from Kentucky, are scheduled to arrive at eighteen-thirty hours with the Senator—”

  Arkdone’s cough was dry and deliberate.

  Williams clearly rolled his eyes and huffed before correcting himself. “—with the U.S. Presidential running mate Donovan Arkdone arriving soon after his agents.” He finished with a disgusted expression on his skinless face before giving way to a series of sickeningly wet coughs he barely contained with a red, monogrammed handkerchief. Everybody on the call grimaced at the grotesque sounds, thankful the PowerPoint hid what was undoubtedly visually disturbing.

  Williams continued. “As for myself and my second team of metahumans, we will arrive about forty minutes afterward. Right behind us, the Winter Clan, who originated in Cairo will land at approximately twenty-hundred hours.” He paused for effect before adding, “All times have been adjusted to include drive-time to the ranch from the various airports in which we are all scheduled to land.”

  “Excellent, Dr. Williams. Shall we move on to the profiles?” the Senator prompted.

  Ignoring his counterpart, Williams kept talking. “Group Leaders, I am uploading this data with the rest of the video dossier to your phones for reference.”

  Instantly, small chirps and vibrating hums sounded simultaneously in all four frames of the video conference screen.

  Rhett Hays forced himself to maintain a calm look of professional interest as he swiped his phone awake and opened the attachment he was just sent. On his small screen he saw the same timeline that Williams had just explained. Rhett quickly flicked his finger across the screen to get to the next page and saw a photograph of three young, smiling people. Their arms were casually draped across each other’s shoulders as they smiled for the camera. The top corner of the photo had been burned.

  “This picture is recent. Of course, it is of the Original Three metahumans. Meg is the oldest—soon to have her seventeenth birthday,” he added—oblivious of his words insinuating that the girl would be alive to have a birthday. However, no one questioned him. “Alik is the one on the right. He’s ten months younger than Meg just having turned sixteen himself. Evan, age fourteen, is on the left.”

  Rhett pinched his fingers over the image and enlarged Meg’s face. He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from showing any reaction to how different this girl looked from the one he met less than an hour before. This girl was carefree and innocent. The girl who bested him on silent wings looked ten years older and hardened by life. Her rosy cheeks and relaxed demeanor had been replaced by chiseled angles, ripped muscles and an aggressive confidence that seemed to vibrate the air around her. The contrast was striking.

  He forced himself to pay attention as his walking-nightmare of a Director delved further into each of the Originals, detailing their abilities and enhanced gifts.

  Rhett smoothly scanned his soldiers. To their credit, they were maintaining expressionless cool. No one uttered a word or shared a look that would give away their unified decision to align themselves against their Director and his allies. His seconds in command sat on either side of him—models of secrecy.

  Rhett only half listened to the intel on the other members that made up the Winter Clan. From what he could tell, the Director’s take on “the enemy” was skewed and outdated.

  His ears perked up when the video conference was adjourning.

  “We all have work to do,” Senator Arkdone was saying. “Let’s get to it.”

  Rousing speech, Rhett scowled inwardly.

  Instinctively, Rhett knew Arkdone was as monstrous on the inside as Williams looked on the outside. He wouldn’t trust the politician to follow through with the destruction he was promising nor would he trust his metamonarch puppets.

  The link to the video conference was shutdown and as a precaution, all the equipment was unplugged and stowed in a black, hard-shelled weapons cases.

  Rhett glanced at his watch and moved to flip on his earpiece.

  “Meg, from Rhett, over.”

  “Meg, go ahead, over.” Her voice was breathy, as though she were running.

  He frowned, “Sitrep, over.”

  “Oh, just prepping for uninvited guests,” she said, breaking radio voice procedure.

  He smiled despite himself. He heard her grunt before her panting picked back up.

  “Just sat through the weirdest pre-battle meeting. About to speak to my Company and I want you to listen, copy?”

  “Permission granted to eavesdrop, copy.” Meg replied.

  52 Choose

  Rhett turned to face his Company. He motioned to Nate and Valen, who had been watching his private exchange with Meg and awaiting orders.

  Valen slipped two fingers into her mouth and let out an ear piercing whistle, instantly silencing the conversations in the tent.

  “Attention!” Nate Townsend barked.

  The soldiers quickly formed parallel lines six feet apart, facing one another and stood at rapt attention.

  “At ease,” Rhett called out. Every soldier widened his stance and clasped his hands behind his back, respectfully.

  “Company, you’ve heard my report after meeting Meg Winter ninety minutes ago. You know my position and why I chose the path I did. Now you’ve heard the Director’s thoughts and expectations concerning what he believes should happen tonight and why. It’s time for you to decide. There’s no shame in whatever choice you make. We all appreciate the gravity of this moment. Hooah?”

  “Hooah, sir!” all thirty-four soldiers responded in affirmation.

  “If you’re siding with the Originals, step forward. If you’re siding with the Director, hold your line.”

  Without hesitation, every soldier in 17th Company stepped forward and stood at attention.

  Rhett bit back a smile borne from pride.

  “As you wish. I am honored to fight beside every one of you not just as your leader, but as your friend.” He looked at each soldier and felt such a surge of protectiveness and appreciation, he had to blink away the emotions threatening his eyes.

  Clearing his throat, he forced himself back to business. “As we are all decided, it would be of no benefit to us or our goals to leave a fully functioning base for the other teams to find upon their arrival. Let’s break camp, load up and relocate.”

  “Where are we going, sir?” Harley Yu pressed.

  “As a wise woman once said, ‘a person is defined by what they do, not by what they thought about doing.’”

  Meg chuckled in his ear.

  “We’re going to the Winter ranch. We’ll find room for us and our equipment in their big red barn.”

  “We’ll make room.” Meg’s voice was crisp in his ear—clear enough for Rhett to hear the smile in her voice.
>
  “We move in exactly fifteen minutes. Double time it. We’ve got a war to win!”

  A chorus of “hooahs” was the gunshot that started the race to follow orders. Nate and Valen jumped into the fray organizing the rapid dismantlement. Rhett set himself on a task he knew would be key to their counterinsurgency.

  Fourteen minutes, thirty-seconds later the trucks began to roll away from the former base, leaving only trampled grass in their wake.

  Rhett had put the finishing touches on his tasks before hopping on his motorcycle and cranking the engine to life. His wheels flung dust into the dark sky as he locked eyes on their destination glowing in the distance. The convoy moved as fast as the bumpy terrain would allow. Rhett’s engine roared ahead of the group. Meg would be waiting for them at the northernmost edge of her family’s expansive land.

  She was going to guide them up to the house through a specific pathway. She didn’t want to risk any of them setting off one of the four improvised explosive devices. IEDs were crudely made but highly effective. She had strategically planted them around the house.

  He saw her silhouette as he approached, the bright lights of her home outlining her shape. Rhett pulled up beside her, his bike’s engine purring loudly.

  “Hop on,” he motioned to the space behind him, walking a fine line between respect and reverence toward the girl he’d heard about as far back as his memory would allow.

  Meg shook her head against a bitter wind as it tugged at her long dark curls. She forced his gaze onto her before adding, “I’m driving.”

  She parked her hands on her hips waiting for him to move. Meg wore black cargo pants and a long-sleeved black shirt. At the belt around her slim waist was an impressive arsenal. Add that to her equally loaded tactical vest adorned with spare mags and the glint of the four semiautomatic handguns hanging from her hips and strapped to her thighs, and she was the most beautifully lethal woman he’d ever seen. Ever.

  Damn, she looks badass! Rhett nearly swallowed his tongue at the whole package.

  He dragged his eyes away from her magnetism to look back at his convoy. Their headlights flashed as the noses of the trucks dipped and rose over the lumpy ground. They were fast approaching.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he conceded and released the handlebars to slide back on the seat. He easily supported the weight of the bike with his muscular legs. Meg watched him respectfully move his hands to the curved bar behind his hips for balance rather than reach forward to hold her. She nodded once appreciating his consideration and gracefully straddled the rumbling machine. The handlebars were still warm from his hands.

  “Tell them to follow my lead exactly or someone could get killed. I planted pressure sensitive landmines around the house.” Meg looked over her shoulder at 17th Company’s leader.

  “Copy that,” he acknowledged. Touching his earpiece, he relayed the orders to the soldiers driving the truck.

  “Okay, they’ll stay right on our six. Lead the way.” He had to lean in to be sure Meg heard him and felt her muscular back and shoulders brush against his chest. Again he had to control his reflex response toward her.

  Meg wanted to ignore Rhett’s infatuation, and hoped it wouldn’t get in the way of their objective. Keep a clear head, she pushed her thoughts toward him gently.

  Meg rolled the bike slowly at first, allowing the trucks to catch up. Once they were on her tail, she picked up the pace and led the way until they reached the front of the barn.

  From her pocket Meg produced a remote, clicked it and waited for the barn’s doors to slide on their tracks until they opened wide enough to fit the vehicles. The convoy pulled in with plenty of room to spare.

  Meg eased off the bike and stepped forward to help park the three trucks inside. Soldiers spilled from the back of the third truck and formed a loose circle around Rhett. Nate and Valen materialized beside their leader as he raised his hands. Excited murmurs hushed immediately and the curious stares at Meg ceased as all eyes shifted to watch Rhett.

  53 Introductions

  “Seventeenth Company, it is my privilege to introduce to you the leader of The Original Three—Miss Meg Winter.” Anxious eyes turned to stare openly at the beautiful girl dressed for war standing beside him. Later there would be whispered conversations trying to determine the strange sense of calm and confidence that seemed to pass over and become a part of each soldier in that moment. For now, Meg had a captivated audience.

  “Please call me Meg,” she began, offering a genuine smile first to Rhett, then to his seconds who flanked him protectively and finally to the rest of the group.

  “I cannot express to you how grateful I am to have you join my family and me in this, our eleventh hour. Now, you’ve already been made aware of my mental gifts, so when I say to you I know your heart, it’s not just an expression. I truly know.” The space was absolutely still, each soldier absorbing the current of calming emotions Meg continued to spill over them.

  “So that you’re aware, five of the fighters in my family will be joining us in two hours—arriving by parachute. My mother Dr. Margo Winter and brothers, Alik and Evan you will meet. You already know—or know of—Creed Young and Farrow Schone. Please watch for them.”

  A low murmur began at the mention of the two former assassins. Meg took a deep breath before continuing.

  “I understand your passion to live honorably—to align yourself with valiant plights. You feel compelled to defend the weak and right the wrongs done against them. I appreciate how strong your moral character must be for you to have learned compassion and righteousness on your own—against the teachings of Kenneth Williams. You have chosen to treat life—all life—with dignity and respect. That core sense of morality unifies us in our purpose.” Meg paused, allowing her words to sink in.

  “The Winters live by a strict code of ethics. We believe in honor, respect, loyalty, family and above all faith. After tonight, if you feel the depth of that commitment yourself, you will be welcomed into my family’s fold just as others who have come before you.”

  “Tonight, however, we have a monumentally grave task before us.” One by one, Meg locked eyes with the soldiers as she spoke. “Tonight we end Kenneth Williams and Donovan Arkdone. Tonight we cut off the heads of the snakes and watch them blister and burn! Tonight we will light the sky and stamp out their darkness once and for all!”

  The room exploded in boisterous calls, whistles and applause. Meg could feel the temperature of the room and knew she was surrounded by kindred spirits.

  A quick glance at Rhett cheering with his soldiers brought a smile to her face.

  Some more kindred than others.

  She felt pride roar through Rhett’s signature as he watched his Company embrace this new path.

  Discreetly, she leaned in to speak to Rhett’s ear so he could hear her over the excitement. “Michelle Andrews and the rest of the metamonarchs are nearly done transitioning from their plane to trucks. Drive time to your previous base gives us approximately forty minutes.”

  His eyes widened. “Say again? Four-zero minutes? Are you sure?”

  Meg nodded her head solemnly.

  Rhett raised his hands into the air, signaling silence. The room, ever watchful of their leader, obeyed immediately.

  “Miss Winter just alerted me to new intel. We have less than forty minutes until Arkdone’s metamonarchs arrive at our previous post looking for us. Everyone set your watches on countdown for thirty-seven minutes on my mark.”

  The room simultaneously yanked back their sleeves to look down at their watches.

  “Ready, set, mark,” he called.

  He looked up and across the room. “Now, we’ve got work to do. Meg, walk us through what you’ve already done to fortify our position.”

  “Has anyone got a piece of chalk?” Meg asked the room. She was eyeing the broadside of the nearest truck. “I’ll draw it for you.”

  A handful of white chalk was passed hand to hand until it made its way to Meg. “Here, we usually ke
ep some on hand in case we need to mark supply boxes.”

  “Of course,” she smiled as her steady hand quickly sketched the layout of her family’s ranch, “but Cole Andrews would probably make some wisecrack about y’all playing hop-scotch,” she chuckled to herself.

  “Cole Andrews—he’s meta isn’t he?”

  “Yeah, you’ll meet him later.”

  Rhett was mesmerized by how quickly she worked. Inside of a minute she had the map clearly drawn including ordinal directions and major landmarks. She stepped back so they could all see.

  “Listen up,” she barked and the room silenced. “This is due north. You see the front of the ranch faces south,” she began.

  “You’re here, in the barn,” she pointed to the first large rectangle. “And this is the house—kitchen, great room, bedrooms. To the far east is a fireproof building with its own generator, waterlines and shatterproof glass.”

  “Is that a panic room?”

  “Winters don’t panic,” Meg lifted her head proudly. “We prepare.”

  Those soldiers in the front had dropped to one knee so those behind them could better see. From there, the first “Hooah” started.

  Meg raised her hand redirecting the attention of the antsy soldiers. “That is a fully functioning medical lab, but for our purposes today, it can be our safehouse in the event we need to fall back and/or take care of injured.”

  She didn’t wait for a reaction, but pressed on explaining the locations and nature of the four IEDs before she took a deep breath and dropped the bombshell.

  “...and that will be your objective: protect the house from siege—my family will need a safe place to regroup once they’ve joined us.”

  “Excuse me, Miss Winter, but you keep using phrases like, ‘your objective.’ Where do you plan to be during the attack?” Valen asked, skepticism clear in her eyes.

  54 And That’s What You Get for Bringing a Psychic to a Knife Fight

  Meg took a deep breath and pressed on, “I will be out there,” she waved indiscriminately, “attacking them using guerilla tactics.”