by Natalie Grey
Any hope that Nathan had, however, was dashed when he saw Karliman’s eyes.
“The pack has voted,” Karliman said abruptly. “We will not intervene in this matter.”
He seemed to be waiting for Nathan to bluster, so Nathan said nothing at all. He let the silence hang awkwardly, and he looked over at Irina and Stoyan.
He wished he hadn’t.
Stoyan looked utterly betrayed, and Irina looked like she was going to throw up.
“Why?” Irina asked. The one-word shook.
“This man says that his pack can defeat this Hugo Marcari on their own,” Karliman said contemptuously. “We aren’t needed.”
“What we need is to take action when we are wronged!” Irina’s voice rose. “Our packmates are abducted, tortured, turned against one another, killed, and you want to sit back and let other people deal with it?”
“We have lost too much against this enemy already.” It was the older woman who spoke. “When I was young, I too might have demanded that justice be served with my own hands. But I am older now, and I see that preserving the pack is more important than standing watch over the whole world myself.”
Stoyan was shaking with fury, “This isn’t the whole world. This was our pack who was hurt, and it is taking vengeance against the one who did it. We should be there. We should know that we have avenged our packmates.” He shot a look of pure hatred at Karliman. “Especially as we failed to protect or rescue them.”
Karliman’s eyes narrowed.
“Stoyan,” the younger man pleaded. “Please. Please try to understand.”
“I do understand,” Stoyan spat. “I understand that we prefer to sit back and let everyone else dispense justice and protect us. And you know what that makes us?”
“Smart,” Karliman said, cutting him off. “It makes us smart, and it keeps us alive. Which is why you and Irina will come back to the pack, and stay out of this.”
Stoyan and Irina both froze. They turned, with shocked faces, to look at one another.
Nathan felt his heart sink. These two had the potential to be powerful. If they came with him, they could be everything they had ever dreamed, and would not have to bow their head to a leader who counseled cowardice.
But it was a powerful thing, to be offered a pack.
“I spoke for you,” the boy said. He must be Stoyan’s younger brother, for he looked at Stoyan with a mixture of adoration and pleading. “I told them that you had done what any of us might do to save Irina.”
Stoyan turned his head away. His hands were clenched.
“All of this can be put behind us,” Karliman said silkily. “I am sure that what you saw will show the others why I advised them to stay out of this.”
Nathan waited for the acceptance, he was sure was coming.
But Irina surprised him, “We will consider your offer.”
“What?” Karliman stared at her.
“Have you not just offered us a place back in the pack?” Irina reached out to take Stoyan’s hand. “We will consider it.”
Karliman hesitated. He could not refuse, not without seeming petty. But losing these two, having them choose to leave again, would be another blow to his power.
“Decide quickly, then,” was all he said before he stomped away into the forest once more.
Catalonia, Spain
Edgardo Sanchez kept his eyes on the road and his hands wrapped tight around the steering wheel. The roads were dangerous at this time of night, in a truck this heavy. The edge of the road could easily vanish into mud—or nothing. Not to mention, this was the time of night when people seemed to get crazy and drive much too fast on these back roads.
In the back, twelve men in full riot gear sat silently on crates of weapons as the truck jolted over the dirt roads. All of them had weapons ready to use at a moment’s notice.
Behind the truck were six more just like it. The men in them were on call 24/7, ready to go to any client who needed increased security at a moment’s notice. They had guarded celebrities and politicians without asking any questions. They had done hostage rescues. Some were assassins, but they were consummate professionals, every one of them.
They had been assured that this job would be unlike anything they had ever seen.
Edgardo had driven these men often, and he doubted that the job would be as different as their client seemed to think it was. He had heard some of the stories while the men were joking with one another after missions, hyped up on adrenaline.
What could they be guarding against here that these men hadn’t seen before? They’d seen missiles, terrorists, kidnappers, angry mobs, and more.
Edgardo smiled. These men would earn their paychecks, every cent of them, and it would be another victorious story to tell. Their client had been adamant about secrecy, but he had nothing to worry about.
Behind him, in the night, the caravan of armored trucks crawled over the hills of Catalonia, making for the castle they were supposed to guard.
Just let anyone try to get into that castle. They wouldn’t stand a chance.
—
Jennifer tossed and turned, trying to get comfortable on the cot. The clock at the edge of the room said it was 2AM, which meant she’d been trying to get to sleep for three hours.
She sat up with a groan and rubbed at her scalp. It reminded her of Denver here—the dry air quickly losing the day’s heat. It should feel familiar.
It didn’t.
Everything about this place was strange, down to the locks on the scientists’ doors.
Locks that kept them in.
Jennifer had never liked being shut inside, and both times they’d brought her here and locked the door behind her, she had to fight the instinctive urge to pull the door off its hinges and beat the security guard to death with it.
Which would kick things off rather sooner than she’d planned.
She rolled her head lazily, trying to relax enough to sleep. With the attacks coming tomorrow evening, she needed to be rested.
Maybe if she walked around a bit. She got up and paced around the outside of the room a few times. It only made her feel caged, so she leaned on the windowsill and rested her head on the bars, looking out into the hills beyond the valley.
She tilted her head to the side. A caravan was making its way down the roads, moving slowly.
“ADAM? What’s that?”
>>What is what?<<
“Sorry. There are…” Jennifer squinted and counted. “Seven trucks in the hills. Is that supplies for the town, or what?”
>>One moment. Analyzing satellite data.<<
She waited, chin propped on her hands. The window was high as well as barred, to make it even more difficult to escape. It wasn’t a serious concern in her case, but it would definitely keep someone like Hsu in.
>>They appear to be armored personnel carriers.<<
Jennifer stood up quickly. “Our side, or Hugo’s?”
>>As far as I know, they aren’t ours. I’ll check with Stephen.<<
“Yes. Let him know.” Jennifer rubbed at her temples. “Crap. How many people would be in there?”
>>I’ll do as much research as I can, and I will let you know as soon as I have answers.<<
“Thanks.”
But that meant she now had a bad development… and nothing to do but sit and wait for other people to research it and adjust the plan.
She was never getting to sleep now.
—
>>Stephen?<<
Stephen sat bolt upright in bed, “What is it?”
>>Jennifer has spotted seven armored personnel trucks coming into the valley.<<
“Son of a—” Stephen was up and buttoning a shirt within seconds, striding out into the main room. “All right, you lot of geniuses, we need surveillance!”
Bobcat, Marcus, and William appeared, squinting in the suddenly-bright lights of the main room.
“What’s going on?”
“Hugo’s moving troops in,” Stephen said grimly. �
��Any numbers, ADAM?”
>>Based on the size of the trucks, I would say they hold between ten and fourteen occupants each. A relevant question is whether they have been retrofitted to carry bombs or other weaponry.<<
“Yes, very relevant. Tell me if you figure it out. And tell me where they end up going. And tell Nathan that now would be an excellent time to come back with a large group of angry Wechselbalg.”
>>Anything else?<<
“Nothing yet, although they should be careful getting back into town. I trust you’ll be in contact with the ArchAngel to make sure the Pods don’t end up in the middle of the convoy?”
>>Of course. Unless you think it would be better to head them off now.<<
Stephen crossed his arms over his chest and narrowed his eyes at the map. Ocular implants showed him where the convoy currently was.
“Hard to say,” he said finally. “On the one hand, if we head him off now, before he has a chance to get them into defensible positions, that’s good…”
“That does sound good,” Marcus agreed.
“On the other hand, having them in the facilities as new staff means it would be almost impossible for Hugo to use the captive Wechselbalg effectively.”
“Oh. I hadn’t thought of that.”
“Although it means we have to be absolutely sure that the two facilities can’t communicate and that there are no automated systems these guards can use to kill the Wechselbalg—like poison.”
>>I’m working on that, all of those should be down by tomorrow at midday.<<
“Good. Then, as I see it, our basic plan remains unchanged. A few humans with guns won’t bother us. If we find out they have bioweapons or something, that would be a different concern, but otherwise, I don’t think there’s any reason to—”
>>Stephen?<<
“What?”
>>Two of the trucks are heading for the point Bobcat designated for shoe pickup.<<
“Shit!” Bobcat pounded the table. “They’re hoping to get us while we extract the shoes. We can’t let them get away with that.”
“If they’re shipping containers, shouldn’t they be fairly easy to extract?”
Bobcat paused, “Not with the anti tracking devices we need to install. Plus, I have, ah…”
“What?” William looked over at him.
“Nothing. It’s just that location is very important to me.”
“Well, then come up with a way to get in there that takes those soldiers into account,” Stephen advised, “or this whole thing is going south really quick.” He shook his head. “I just don’t get why they’re focusing on there.”
Bulgaria
>>Two are at the area where Bobcat, William, and Marcus will extract the shoes, two more are going to the castle, and three are going to the facility where Jennifer is.<<
“Thank you, ADAM.” Nathan made his way through the forest, toward the distant shapes of Irina and Stoyan, in close-headed conference.
The time for decision-making was past.
Both of them looked around at him as he came out of the trees with Peter at his side.
“Seven trucks full of soldiers just pulled into the town where the facility is,” Nathan explained. “I need to leave, to be a part of the strike team.”
Irina swallowed, “So you’re not taking us?”
“Both of you are more than welcome to join us. But I can’t wait any longer.”
Stoyan sank his head into his hands. Leaving the pack had been one of the worst moments of his life. He never wanted to go through that again, to know that the life and family he’d had while growing up were lost to him forever.
If he left, his brother would be crushed. Ivan hadn’t come with him to Velingrad—in fact, he had argued strongly against Stoyan going.
Ivan was a rule-follower, someone who prized the harmony of all over anyone’s personal desires. He had not accepted Stoyan’s argument that the safety of the pack rested on eliminating their enemies.
He would never forgive Stoyan for this.
He looked over at Irina. “What will you do?”
“I’m going with him.” She nodded to Nathan.
“Is it so easy to decide?” Stoyan shook his head.
“Easy? It feels like my heart is being ripped out. But you heard him.” She looked at Nathan again, and then over to Peter. “They serve someone who doesn’t sit back and hide when her people are hurt. Karliman would say that it doesn’t even matter what happened to me or anyone else. He would say it’s not worth fighting because we might not win. But that’s not why I fight. I fight because it’s the right thing to do.”
“You always had the knack of making things clear.” Stoyan nodded. “I’m in.”
CHAPTER TEN
Catalonia, Spain
“That was delicious.” Arisha tipped her head back to look up at the sky. “What time is it?”
“2AM.” Gerard looked over at her with a forced smile.
He was not pleased. The look of fear in her eyes when he first saw her had been delicious, but she was proving more difficult to intimidate than he had hoped.
At the first restaurant, he had questioned her sharply on her whereabouts in Sofia, but the bitch must have seen him somewhere, because she knew when he’d come back to the hotel. She swore she had called to him, but he’d ignored her, and so she had gone back to Moscow—and she said everything with a simplicity that was difficult to interpret.
She didn’t over-protest her innocence. She didn’t use the wide-eyed look women often used when they lied.
So, he tried being nice.
Everywhere they went that evening, people bent over backward to make sure Gerard was happy. Bottles of rare wines were brought up from cellars in the restaurants. Special dishes were brought to their tables, and waiters practically sprinted to the kitchens to accommodate any request they made.
And through it all, Arisha took notes, damn her. Like she was actually a travel writer. She asked him about his favorite dishes. She asked him if there were little villages near the coast that were easy to travel to.
At first, he played into the ruse because he thought she would break eventually. With every glass of wine, he asked a few more questions… and yet she never slipped up.
“Well, I’m very glad I chose this town.” Arisha called his attention back with a happy sigh. “This has been a perfect night, you know. You’ll have Russian tourists flocking here by the dozens.”
The truth was, she was hoping that this column would let her keep her job. She hadn’t even told her boss when she left Sofia, and she had entirely forgotten to send the column. Her inbox was probably full of angry emails by now, and a few hysterical ones from her mother and father.
She was trying not to think about that. If she could just send this lovely article about Spain, listing the wonderful wines and seafood dishes she’d tried, with no requests for reimbursement, maybe her boss would forget that she’d run off. After all, she couldn’t really lose this job.
She frowned all of a sudden. She was still thinking as if nothing had changed.
Maybe the truth was that she was worrying about keeping her job because she wanted more than anything to join TQB and she was afraid they wouldn’t let her. She wasn’t a fighter. She was just a reporter, and what good was that to anyone?
She was so involved in her thoughts that she didn’t notice Gerard had led her into a dead-end alley… and before she knew it, she was up against a wall with his fingers squeezing at her throat.
“Let’s dispense with the pleasantries, shall we?” He was smiling at her. “Tell me everything you know about the bitch.”
“Who?” Arisha choked out. She was frozen with fear. He wasn’t really trying to cut off her air supply, yet.
She should have left right after the first restaurant. She should have watched where she was going. She shouldn’t ever have let him give her wine. Regrets piled up in her head, sapping her strength even further.
“You know exactly who I mean.” H
e wasn’t smiling anymore.
“I really don’t! Please!” Who is ‘the bitch’?
“You aren’t working with TQB?” He punctuated his words with a squeeze of his fingers. “You’re not serving the Queen Bitch, herself? You weren’t there at Velingrad?”
So, that was what TQB stood for?
Too late, Arisha realized he’d seen the flare of recognition in her eyes.
“Do you know what I do to people who lie to me?” Gerard asked her quietly. His hands began to push her down toward the ground. “You had better hope you can convince me to spare your life, Arisha.”
She stared up at his face. Something about it seemed… off. Surprising.
Yeah, because right now is the time to be worried about that.
And then she realized what it was: he actually felt wronged. He felt personally betrayed that a woman he’d tried to prey upon might have had her own aims—for instance, to free the people he was torturing.
Her regrets disappeared. She was furious.
On the ArchAngel, she had watched shyly as the Queen’s soldiers sparred and trained. They were all so graceful and beautiful, and Arisha knew that she would never have their skill. But, to her surprise, one of the human recruits had taken her aside and shown her a few moves—ugly brawling moves that would take her opponents down if she moved quickly and decisively.
Treat it, the recruit said, as if you only get one shot.
She put everything she had into launching herself up off the ground. She’d stopped fighting Gerard, and so he’d stopped pressing her down quite so hard. He didn’t have the time to react before her fist caught him right in the sternum, or close, anyway.
She’d missed. Shit.
But she knew what to do now. The longer this dragged on, the longer his odds of winning the fight grew. She had to take him down quickly. Arisha spun as she raised her elbow to drive it into his temple. It ended up catching him in the shoulder instead, but he still gave a muffled yell of pain as he went over sideways.