Nomad Omnibus 03: A Kurtherian Gambit Series (A Terry Henry Walton Chronicles Omnibus)

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Nomad Omnibus 03: A Kurtherian Gambit Series (A Terry Henry Walton Chronicles Omnibus) Page 39

by Craig Martelle


  “I hear that,” she replied, nodding. She looked over the water at the moon sparkling on the low wave tops. It was a calm evening, serene. She reached out and grabbed Kaeden’s arm and pulled him to her.

  Kaeden was startled at first. When he realized that she was trying to kiss him, he put up his hand defensively and pushed her back. “You get yourself under control!” he said too loudly. The soft sounds of the jungle stopped and the area was flooded with silence.

  “I’m sorry, sorry,” Camilla stammered.

  “Even if my wife wasn’t on that hillside, I still couldn’t and wouldn’t. Not because of you. You’re a beautiful woman, but because I’m not for you. You’ll get old, and you’ll die. Seeing my mother-in-law go through that was something I don’t ever want to see again, and I don’t have to. Marcie and I are great. We have kids! Now you and I need to forget this ever happened. We have a mission to accomplish, so let’s get it done. I’m on point.”

  Kae hurried away, trying not to look at Camilla’s glistening eyes and the embarrassment coloring her face. He didn’t want to be cold, but he didn’t know what else to do. He was never that way, ‘a dog,’ as some people called those guys.

  His heart ached from hurting her. He could see it on her face. But had he done anything, even just a hug, it would have torn at his soul and then he would have hurt Marcie, and he couldn’t have that no matter what.

  He stumbled along, trying to move quietly, but he couldn’t think about anything else. Who would he see when looked in the mirror, a person pining for a secret lover, or a committed husband and father?

  Is this what it’s like being an adult? he wondered, even though he was in his thirties, married with two children. This sucks.

  Outside Kingston, Jamaica

  Kimber stalked slowly through the gap between homes. They’d seen a pile of rags outside one of the bigger buildings and she decided to take those instead of trying to trade. Someone would see them in their uniforms otherwise. Even if they didn’t know what those were, the general look could induce fear.

  People who were afraid might do something she didn’t want them to do, like sound the alarm.

  The rags smelled horribly, but as she suspected, they were cast-off clothing. She took an armload, having to breathe through her mouth as she carefully backtracked out of the neighborhood, returning to the trees, nothing more than an unseen shadow.

  When she made it to her team, she handed the clothes over and told the private to dump them in the stream and scrub them clean. With the monkey shit, their own sweat, and rank clothing, she was less than pleased with the green cloud that seemed to surround her.

  Two privates dunked the clothes and started scrubbing them. “Bad news, Corporal,” one of the men said softly. “They’re all shirts.”

  “Better than diapers,” she replied wryly. “We’ll wear our fatigue pants with the shirts. That’ll probably be better anyway. It’s already going to be horrible enough putting one of those nasty-assed things on.”

  The private held it to his nose and took a full breath. “I’ve smelled worse in my room,” he said with a smile.

  “Don’t ever tell me anything like that ever again.” Kim shivered in disgust. “Ever.”

  The two men chuckled as they continued working.

  “Tomorrow at dawn, we’re going in. Get those things as dry as you can before then.” Kim nodded and found her way back through the team to check in one last time before trying to get some sleep.

  She had a big day ahead.

  North of Cuba

  Terry held the wheel while Char curled up on a cushion. They were taking cat naps in between turns steering as they maintained a heading steadily eastward.

  The deckhands were below, in their bunks, sleeping off the day’s hard work. The pork was put up, with a stack ready to be smoked. With the small kitchen aboard, it would take a long time to get any quantity of the meat properly preserved. They’d already salted two-thirds of it to preserve it, but eating salted pork got old. They had had no choice, because eating bad pork would be deadly to the non-enhanced.

  Worry lines cut Terry’s brow. The pods were dying. His kids had seen death firsthand. And he and Char were cruising the Caribbean on a yacht.

  “The Forsaken are out there somewhere, and we need to find them,” he growled to himself. “Never lose sight of the big picture.”

  Char mumbled something as she turned over and fell back asleep.

  Life was so much easier when it was just North Chicago. The whole world was a tall order. Terry had thought he was up for the challenge, but with each new day, it became harder.

  He had to keep people motivated so they didn’t lose their edge.

  “Control is an illusion,” Char whispered into his mind. He turned and saw that she was still sleeping. “Train them to your standard and let them go.”

  “And now I’m hallucinating,” Terry told himself. He nodded, tied off the wheel, and headed to the galley for a handful of meat and a banana.

  Guantanamo Bay

  “Kaeden and Camilla coming through,” Kaeden said in a normal tone of voice as he crouched behind a bush.

  “Advance and be recognized,” Marcie said as she stood up and took a position in the moonlight.

  Kaeden had worried that things would be strange between them, but his heart jumped when he saw Marcie. He moved into the open and approached his wife, hugging her warmly and kissing her ear.

  “Corporal,” she said when they finally separated.

  “Corporal,” he replied with a smile.

  The false dawn lightened the sky, outlining the jungle and low hills across the bay from where they were. “Bring your people in?” Kae asked.

  “Sure,” she replied. “Bring it in, people. There’s no one to see you.”

  Kae waved for Camilla to join him. Marcie greeted her, but Camilla wouldn’t look her in the eye. Marcie knew that she’d ask Kaeden later what was bothering her.

  When the team gathered, Kaeden briefed them. “There’s no one here. After talking with the colonel and the major, we believe the island, as big as it is, is completely devoid of human life. Come daylight, we’re heading in and looking for anything that could be a storage bunker. It’s been over fifty years since the fall, so I don’t expect to find anything intact, but when we leave here, we’re going to know for sure, prove me right or wrong. I hope wrong because we could use some new gear. My shit is getting threadbare.”

  One of Marcie’s privates raised his hand. Kae tipped his chin to the man. “Is this mission scrubbed?” he asked as he slapped at a bug.

  “Good question. Mission parameters have been changed, that’s all. We’re no longer reconnaissance, but search and recovery. We’ll be here for a few more days. With the corporal’s permission, we can do some fishing and hunting, see if we can add something fresh to our rations.”

  Marcie nodded and gave the thumbs up.

  “We’re off, then, to brief my team. Meet you on the beach, northern point of the bay?”

  “Sounds good, Corporal,” Marcie replied.

  “Corporal.”

  “By all that’s holy, would you two stop?” someone called from the back of the small group.

  “Who said that?” Marcie joked while letting her hand linger on her husband’s arm before he headed back into the jungle to find his team, with Camilla trailing close behind.

  Outside Kingston, Jamaica

  “Ramses, we are preparing to head into town. Have your people standing by to come to our rescue. I really hope we don’t need you or Cory, but tell her to warm up the blue hands, just in case,” Kimber said into her comm device.

  “Roger,” Ramses replied, having no intention of alarming Cory, but he would have every member of his team stand ready. He crouched where he could and crawled where there was less cover, working his way through the team’s hide sites until he personally briefed each and every one.

  When he returned to Cory, she summed up their situation succinctly. “And no
w we wait.”

  ***

  Kimber handed her rifle over, checked the pistol in her pocket, moved her knife sheath to the small of her back, and carried her water flask in her left hand as they’d seen from the populace.

  She and three privates stood and waited for the people to appear from their homes and walk in large groups toward town.

  Kim keyed her comm device. “Dad, we’re getting ready to head in,” she told him.

  “Good luck, phasers on stun, report as soon as you’ve beamed out,” came the quick reply.

  She looked at the device. “Say what?” she asked.

  “Good luck, and relax. It’ll be fine. Let me know when you’ve recovered to your original position.”

  “Roger, out.” Kim put the device in her pants pocket. Her tan and green oversized shirt didn’t have pockets.

  When the doors creaked and people scuffed and clopped their way down the road, Kim nodded and the four set off.

  They wore their fatigue pants with their black leather boots. They wore four different shirts, with Kim’s being the least gaudy of the bunch. The others were bright with jungle patterns.

  “You look like nobs,” she told the other three.

  “Don’t be so judgmental!” the private cautioned with a half-smile. “If this is what they’re wearing, then we don’t want to think them nobs.”

  “Sage guidance, but remember, we found these clothes in the garbage.” Kim waved at Private Mack to join her as they moved farther from the other two, give the trailing pair space and time to react should anything go down.

  Kim tensed as she caught up with the first natives heading into town. She slowed down and stayed behind the group of four men and three women. One of them noticed her and nodded politely.

  She smiled back. The group in front slowed to the point where she and Mack were almost tripping over them. She waved the private wide and they went around.

  Kim hadn’t wanted to put a group of the locals between her and the trailing pair, but she was striving to blend in. Mack’s dark skin differed from the natives, but not enough to stand out.

  When she looked back, she saw the group staring at her feet. They all wore various types of sandals.

  She turned back to the front and picked up her pace. “We need to ditch the boots,” she whispered out the side of her mouth.

  “Agreed,” Mack whispered back.

  “The more people there are, the less we stand out,” she said, waving for the other two to catch up and join them.

  They took long strides and hurried to join their team leader. “We stand out like a hamburger on a veggie tray. We need to find a shop and get us some sandals.”

  They nodded as they continued downhill and into town. The local people moved out of the way of the four who strode confidently. Although they smiled cordially, they remained wary. Kimber didn’t verbally greet them. The locals spoke English, but their accents were heavy.

  Her heart hammered the inside of her chest. She felt like she was walking into a trap.

  Maybe it was a premonition.

  “Where you be going, pretty lady?” a dark man asked as he blocked her way. Kim tried to step around him, but he moved. Four others strolled in behind him and stood with their arms crossed.

  “Downtown,” she enunciated. “We are going to do some shopping.”

  The man grinned at her. “Shopping, you say? I give you one dollar for your boots.” The men behind laughed at their leader’s joke.

  Kim had no idea why it was funny, but if he was willing to deal, so was she. It was easier and less embarrassing than beating his ass in front of his friends.

  “I’ll take your dollar, but you’ll need to throw in four pairs of sandals for me and my friends. Then I’ll trade you my boots.”

  The man threw his head back and had a good laugh at Kim’s counteroffer.

  “No? I guess we’ll be on our way then.” Kim took one step and the man made the mistake of grabbing her arm. She twisted out of his grip, grabbed him by the throat, and lifted him off the ground. He tried to kick her, so she squeezed harder. He flailed helplessly. His friends remained where they were.

  “Some friends,” she said as she put the man down, but she maintained her hold on his throat. “I made you a decent offer, but you wanted to be a dick.”

  She waited for him to try to reply before loosening her hold. “Well?”

  “We were just funning, pretty lady,” the man gasped.

  “I wasn’t,” she said, leaning close so he could feel her glare.

  “I know that now!” he exclaimed.

  “Tell me, where can we buy sandals?” she asked.

  “I know a place. I do. I can show you,” he insisted, nodding vigorously.

  “Do you think there is any doubt that my friends and I are capable of beating the holy shit out of you, these knuckleheads, and every other person you know?” She clenched her jaw as she finished, ready to pound the man into submission. She forced herself to relax, knowing that beating the men wouldn’t get her what she wanted, which was information.

  “No doubt at all, man,” he said, turning to the four shocked men behind him and making them nod with him. All five forced smiles. “I am ready to guide you wherever you want to go in our beautiful city!”

  “Isn’t that better?” she said, smiling pleasantly. “Now, tell me your name, and where are we going?”

  “I am Simon and these are my closest friends,” he said proudly.

  Kim had a hard time not wiping her hands from having touched the man. She wondered if he had a jar of snake oil under his shirt that he’d try to sell her.

  “You off the boat, man?” he asked.

  “Of course,” Kimber answered without hesitation. “How else would we get here?’

  “Fair enough, pretty lady. First stop, breakfast. We have the best coffee! You should try it.” He smiled widely and waved for them to follow.

  “Listen up, fuckstick. Sandals. Now!”

  Once clear of his friends, the man took off like he’d been shot out of a cannon. The others watched wide-eyed before running to catch up.

  “Nicely done, Sergeant. Winning friends and influencing people. As least you didn’t leave any dead bodies behind,” Mack told her.

  “The day’s young,” she replied sarcastically. Others had stopped to watch the exchange as the self-declared tough guys had their asses handed to them and ran off with their tails between their legs. Some of the bystanders started to clap. Kimber bowed before walking away.

  “I don’t think I was cut out for infiltration ops,” Kimber said in a low voice as they continued toward the wafting smell of coffee and bread.

  It smelled more pungent than what she was used to, leading her to believe that that was what real coffee smelled like. Her father always curled his lip and wrinkled his nose at what he called fake coffee. He still drank it in great quantities, but complained the whole time.

  “We need money. Dollar, he called it. We need a dollar,” Mack suggested.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Kingston Town

  Kimber’s mouth watered as they walked past the crowded food stands. People were eating while sitting on bar stools, leaning against walls, and even standing. The FDG warriors didn’t get second looks from the diverse group enjoying their breakfast.

  From sweet breads to fish to vegetable dishes, Kim couldn’t tell if they were eating breakfast, lunch, or dinner.

  They stopped to confirm that paper changed hands from buyer to seller before the food was handed over.

  “A dollar,” Mack said proudly.

  “Yeah, shops. We have the best boots in town and I’m sure we’ll find a buyer.” Kim tipped her head and went in the direction with more gaudy signs and placards. It reminded her of a small section she’d heard about in San Francisco.

  The other three warriors had never been out of the North Chicago area before. She saw the anxiety in their every movement, in their expressions.

  Maybe even fear.
<
br />   She hurried them through the crowd, only to find a new crowd swarming around the newly opening shops. She nodded and smiled. Clothing to household goods to trinkets. She’d never seen anything like it before. She wanted to buy everything, knew of a person who would like this or that. The warriors on her team stared wide-eyed and open-mouthed.

  Just like she was doing. She elbowed Mack in the stomach when she realized she was awestruck.

  “Mission,” she growled to get herself back on track. The cacophony pressed in on her and she started to breathe more quickly. “Come!” she yelled, setting a course and powering her way through the crowd. The warriors followed until she ducked into an alley free of people.

  The noise was less, too.

  “Fucking people!” Mack grunted as he bent over with his hands on his knees and tried to catch his breath.

  “No shit. I’d rather be up to my ears in Forsaken than go back out there,” Dylan added. He was tall, dark-skinned, and fresh-faced. He was young and wiry with a keen mind, ready to learn. Kimber never worried about him, except that he had no worldliness. His limited experience didn’t help him see the broad range of options someone with more maturity would see.

  And it appeared that he didn’t like crowds of strangers. “What about you?” she asked.

  The fourth member of the team was Tony, a recruit from San Francisco. He seemed unfazed by the noise and lack of personal space in the shops area.

  “Tony. You lead. Find us a shop where I can sell my boots, get us some sandals, and maybe a little breakfast, too,” Kim said with a weak smile. She felt like she’d done an hour of hand-to-hand training.

  “You look like crap,” Tony noted as he glanced from face to face. “How about if I go alone, find the shop, and then come back for you?”

  Kim stood straight up and exhaled, long and slowly. “Don’t be gone long,” she cautioned the young man.

 

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