by Gini Koch
Jerry grinned again. “Counting Miss Kitty here?” We both nodded. “One.”
Christopher started to laugh. In fact, he laughed so hard he almost fell down. “Captain Tucker,” he managed to gasp out, “when you’re done with your training, please let Centaurion Division know. Believe me when I say we can use a man like you on our team.”
Jerry gave me another wink. “Happy to, Commander. Especially if there are more ladies like Miss Kitty in Centaurion Division.”
I put my arm around Jerry’s shoulders as the two other pilots came over. “Jerry, my love, trust me when I say that Centaurion Division is a single man’s dream world.”
“You’ll show me around?” he asked with another chuckle as he put his arm around my waist.
“You’re pawing Commander Martini’s girl,” one of the other pilots told him.
Jerry shrugged. “He’s not here.”
“However,” Christopher snapped, back to business, “he’s about to be murdered, so, you know, maybe we could stop the flirting and get a move on.”
Jerry shook his head. “Too much caffeine isn’t good for a man, Commander.”
“Can I keep him, Christopher? Can I?”
Patented Glare #3 made a surprise reappearance. “Sure. Discuss it with Jeff.”
“He’ll like him.”
“Not if he keeps his arm around your waist, he won’t.”
“Spoilsport.” I removed myself from Jerry’s side. “Thanks again, but we have to get moving.”
Jerry shrugged. “We’re coming with you.” He looked over at Christopher. “By order of Angela Katt.” He looked back at me. “Your mother said to tell you she outranks everyone here, so do what you do best.”
“Cause trouble?” Christopher said with a sigh. “She’s great at that.”
I managed to refrain from making any comment. Other than one. “My mom outranks your dad. Deal.”
“He’s not military,” Christopher snapped as we started off toward the Science Center.
“Shouldn’t we be running?”
“Not if we want the flyboys with us.”
I thought about it. “I could hold your hand and Jerry’s hand. Maybe the others can link up, too. You’ve all told me it’s transferred through touch.”
Christopher looked at Jerry, who was grinning. “Sounds like a great idea.”
The pilots weren’t thrilled about holding hands, but Christopher made it clear that this was an order, not a suggestion. The other pilots were introduced as Lieutenant Chip Walker and Captain Matt Hughes. They both looked around twenty-five. “Are you sure you guys want to do this?” I didn’t want to lose another man. I could still see Cox’s plane explode if I allowed myself to think about it for even a second.
Hughes nodded. “Whoever’s taken over this facility helped murder Bill. Yeah, we’re coming along.”
“Glad to have you with us,” I said softly.
He gave me a small smile. “We all saw you and heard you, when Bill died. We’ve got your back for as long as you need us.”
With that, Hughes, Walker, and Jerry grasped each other’s wrists. More secure and also more manly looking. I took Jerry’s hand in my left and Christopher’s in my right, and we were off.
We came to a halt not at the Science Center but about half a mile away, in a wash in front of a large drainage pipe. It was hidden from the Center by a variety of cacti. The sun was starting to set. I hoped this was going to help us.
I was getting used to this mode of transportation, so my stomach was only flipping around, but the pilots were retching. Christopher glanced my way, looking smug. “You wanted to run.”
I shrugged. “It passes.”
“Like bad booze,” Walker gasped out.
“Not that we’d know anything about that,” Jerry added.
“Me either.” I didn’t want to wreck my reputation, whatever it was. “So, how do we get in?”
“We crawl.”
CHAPTER 50
WE ALL HAD TO GO ON HANDS AND KNEES. There was a little water but not much. Just enough to make our lower legs and hands wet. I did my best not to focus on what was probably growing in the water.
Christopher went first, then me, Jerry, Walker, and Hughes, bringing up the rear. The pilots all had flashlights with them, so Christopher had Walker’s, and Jerry and Hughes had theirs, all turned on. It was eerie but not all that scary in reality—I had four men surrounding me, so I was good. “Won’t they know we’re coming in this way?” I figured someone had to ask.
“No one knows about this other than me and Jeff.”
“Wanna explain that?”
“No, but I’m sure you’ll badger me until I do.” Gee, he knew me well already. “We weren’t based here when we were kids. We were . . . with my mother at East Base. But we would come out for visits. There was nothing to do, and my parents were always in high security meetings.”
Or they wanted to be alone, which would make sense. And who wants two young boys with you when you’re finally seeing your spouse after weeks or months of separation?
“So we wandered the Science Center. We discovered this drainage pipe when we were seven.” He chuckled. “Jeff didn’t trust that the adults wouldn’t try to stop us from playing in here, so we set up traps and a warning system to tell if anyone other than us came through here. No one ever did.”
We continued on and hit a fork in the pipe. There was a baseball bat, mitt, and ball leaning against the right-hand fork. They were covered with dust and spiderwebs. “Warning system?”
“No, we weren’t supposed to play ball in the Center. We smuggled these in here. We used to play in the wash.” He touched the mitt. “I could throw the ball two hundred miles an hour, and Jeff could hit it. It went what seemed like miles. I haven’t thought about this stuff in . . . years, really.”
My heart ached for both of them. They hadn’t really had childhoods, just stolen bits of one here and there. “Bring the bat and the ball.”
“Why?” Christopher sounded confused.
“Weapons,” Jerry answered for me.
“I’ll take them,” Hughes called. “Less likely for me to hit anyone with the bat in the back. Unless you want it, Commander.”
“No, that’s fine.” Christopher handed the ball and bat back to me, but slowly, as if he didn’t want to let anyone else touch them. “Mitt, too?”
“Only if it can block bullets.”
He chuckled. “Don’t think so.”
We left the mitt and moved on. We came across various traps little boys would set—none of them dangerous and also none of them tripped. Christopher was right—no one had come down here since the last time he and Jeff had, which, from the dust, looked to have been twenty years easily.
“This doesn’t really drain water?”
“It used to, before we arrived. Our engineers diverted the water runoff to recycle it, and this pipe wasn’t part of that plan.”
Poor pipe, discarded along with the their childhood. I was getting awfully sentimental about a long piece of metal, but it had been a trying couple of days.
We were crawling in silence when I heard something. “Hughes, you okay back there?”
“Fine, why?”
“I heard something. I thought you might have knocked the bat into the pipe.”
“Nope. I didn’t hear anything,” Hughes added.
The others chimed in. Only I had heard something.
“You’re just a little jumpy,” Walker suggested. “It’s natural.”
I didn’t feel any jumpier than I had for the past couple of days. But the sound wasn’t repeated, and we had people to save, so I decided not to worry about it. There were plenty of other things to worry about. “Where does this pipe lead?”
“We’ll come out on the bottom level,” Christopher advised.
“Safe to assume the whole complex is taken?” Jerry asked.
“I think so. Christopher didn’t recognize the voice telling us we couldn’t land, and, let’s f
ace it, they shot missiles at us.”
“Who do you think we’re dealing with?” Walker asked.
I thought about it. “The Al Dejahl terrorist organization.”
“You sure?” Christopher asked.
“Positive. It’d have to be more than one person to hold the entire Science Center hostage. From what my mother’s indicated, Al Dejahl has enough people, and this matters to Yates in a big way.”
“We’re not armed well to stop terrorists,” Jerry said.
“The element of surprise is on our side.”
“Jeez, Kitty, did you buy a book of clichés while I wasn’t looking?”
I resisted the impulse to hit Christopher in the butt, partially because he had a great butt and I didn’t think grabbing it right now would be a good idea no matter how I looked at it.
We continued and finally hit a grate. Christopher moved it easily, but I figured it would have taken two human men.
“Why isn’t it rusted?” I asked softly.
“Special alloy,” Christopher whispered back. “Now, cut the chatter.”
“Yes, sir, Commander.”
“I’m going to ask Jeff to wash your mouth out.”
I took that idea and ran with it, letting my mind wander through the gutter with it while we moved into the small utility room, clearly unused for decades. I really hoped Martini was going to be okay, because I wanted to jump his bones by the time Hughes was in the room with us.
“Okay, how do we tell the hostiles?” Walker asked.
“The people holding the weapons should be the hostiles.” Why was I the one answering this question?
Christopher nodded. “If they’ve taken every floor, we’re going to have to clear it and work our way to wherever they’re holding Jeff and the others.”
We moved out, staying in the same order as in the pipe. The floor was deserted. “Not a good sign,” Christopher said once we’d determined it was empty.
“No, it means they’ve herded everyone to, I hope, one level.”
“But we can’t assume that,” Hughes said.
“True. Are there stairs?”
“Of course.” Christopher gave me a look that said that was an idiot question.
“I haven’t seen them.”
He rolled his eyes and led us to an unmarked doorway. Sure enough, it was the stairwell. I guessed the aliens didn’t figure anyone would need to know where the stairs were. In case of emergency they’d just run out of the building at hyperspeed and be done with it.
We moved up through the A-C levels—no one anywhere, including in the transient wing. Well, no one human or A-C. Our dogs and cats were in my parents’ room, but they were the only living things there.
“Should we bring the hounds?” Jerry asked as Duke licked his face.
“Only if we want to make a really loud entrance and give doggie kisses to the terrorists.”
Duchess had jumped into Hughes’ arms and was licking all over him. “I thought pit bulls were deadly killers,” he said as he put her down.
“Only if they’re trained to it. Otherwise, you’re in greater danger of being licked to death.”
“She was really protective when I visited,” Christopher said.
I thought about it. She was the best trained of our dogs. “Okay, we’ll bring her along, but believe me, leave the others here.”
We hooked on Duchess’ lead and then moved out. Hughes had her and the baseball bat. Christopher took the baseball back since Hughes had his hands full. I figured he was finding it comforting because he was spinning it in his palm.
It was the same thing on the next floors—all deserted. It was eerie now for real. But we made good time since Christopher, after the second deserted floor, just ran from room to room.
“Which floor is the launch one?”
“Top. That’s probably where they are.”
We hit Floor Two and finally found activity. This was human medical, but there were people here. Not too many, just several armed guards around one door.
“That’s where they have Jeff and the others.”
“How the hell can you tell that?” Christopher asked me.
“Genetics.”
“Okay, so, we get them out.”
I knew exactly how Martini had felt when he’d had to suggest me as bait for Mephistopheles. “No.”
“No?” Christopher looked shocked and angry.
“Greatest number of people are in danger on the floor above us. Most of your population and, as a key point, almost all of your women. We have to save them, first, then come back down here.” I tried to focus on the fact that this was what Martini would have told me to do. I didn’t have to like it—the leader didn’t get the luxury of liking all the choices he or she needed to make.
“She’s right, Commander,” Hughes said quietly. “We need to clear the last floor.”
Christopher gave me a long look. “Jeff may be dead when we get back.”
“I know what he’d pick if I gave him the choice of saving him or saving your race. It’s the choice you two have made every day for two-thirds of your lives.”
Christopher nodded. “Let’s go.”
We moved up the stairwell to the top floor—away from all the people here who mattered to me. I knew now, without question, why war was hell.
CHAPTER 51
WE MOVED UP THE STAIRWELL The biggest positive to the unmarked doors was, I had to guess, the Al Dejahl team wouldn’t know what they were and therefore might have paid them no mind.
We reached the top floor and eased in. Hughes was doing a great job of keeping Duchess quiet. I couldn’t even hear her toenails. I looked back to see him carrying her. Smart and an animal lover. And handsome for a human. That I could still manage to make hunkiness comparisons was good. That I was making allowances for humans to be less gorgeous than A-Cs was a reflection of how natural this all seemed by now.
Terrorists all seem to shop at the same stores. They were as regimented in their outfits as the A-Cs were, only theirs ran to fatigues, flak jackets, and a heavy assortment of guns. It was easy to spot the human and A-C males who weren’t terrorists—they were all bound, most of them unconscious, all of them beaten up.
The women had been herded into an open part of the launch area. There were a lot of them here. Enough for Mephistopheles to do what I knew he wanted—make them all like him. He didn’t want the males so much as he wanted the males out of the way.
I recognized two of the women near the front—Emily and Melanie, Claudia and Lorraine’s respective mothers. “Where are our girls?” Melanie demanded.
One of the terrorists, who wore his love of Che Guevara pretty much all over walked to them. He stroked Melanie’s cheek with the barrel of his rifle. “Maybe you and I will discuss that privately.”
Emily shoved the gun. “Get away from her, you bastard.”
He backhanded her. Melanie grabbed her before she hit the floor. “Why are you doing this to us?” she asked as she moved Emily back.
He laughed, and I decided that as far as targets went, he was number one. “Because we can.”
I pulled the Glock out of my purse. As I did, my hand hit something I’d forgotten was in there—portable speakers. An idea formed. I put my mouth right next to Christopher’s ear. “I’m going to create a distraction. How many of the guns can you get away in about ten seconds?”
He turned and did the same to me. It was far too erotic for the situation. “All of them.”
I nodded, and dug out my iPod, took out the headphones and plugged in the speakers. What to choose, what to choose. Well, why not go with what we’d heard was working so well elsewhere?
Once the iPod was set up, we fanned out, staying low and quiet. I had no idea how Hughes could carry a baseball bat and Duchess while in a crouch, but he was the right man for the job.
The nasties were clearly waiting for someone or something. I didn’t figure I was a genius to assume it was Yates. Who else, right?
We were
as well situated as could be, guns out, except for Hughes, who was carrying the loaded pit bull. I saw Christopher scan the room; he did it several times, then looked over and nodded. Okay, he knew where the guns were.
I turned the volume up to eleven again, hit play and slid away as fast as I could. The Red Hot Chili Peppers’ “Give it Away” blasted out.
The reactions were immediate—the terrorists, to a man, spun and started to fire toward my iPod. But they weren’t quite fast enough. Christopher might have been tired, but you couldn’t tell from how quickly the guns were flying through the air. The A-C women caught them—they might be scientists, but they sure looked as though they could handle an AK-47 if they had to.
The song was barely to the first chorus and we had the guns. Melanie pointed hers right at the head creep. “Give me another reason.” He put his hands up.
The pilots and I stood up. “On your side.”
Melanie nodded. “Nice to see you.” She shot Christopher a worried look. “They have other hostages.”
“We know,” he answered. He sounded out of breath, and I knew without asking that he was finally out of hyperjuice.
The pilots started untying the bound men. Some of the women helped them and revived the ones who were out. I walked to the head creep; Duchess trotted over next to me. “When is Yates due to arrive?”
He sneered. It was clear he’d practiced a lot in the mirror. “Who?”
“Your fearless leader. You know, the one who always lets his minions do his dirty work? When’s he due for the command performance?” I prayed he wasn’t here yet. If he wasn’t, Martini and the others were likely to still be alive.
“When he comes, he will crush you like the pitiful bugs that you are.”
“Blah, blah, blah, heard it all before, not afraid of the creepy old man or his fugly alter ego.”
“You should be,” another one of the terrorists hissed. “He will remake the world in his own image.”
“And you’re okay with that? I realize that, as a group goes, you’ve all got real potential, if we clean you up and groom you, on a scale of one to ten, to end up somewhere around negative five, but that’s still more attractive than anything Yates is offering.”