The Identity: The Black Unit Series: Book One

by Lund, S.

  The commando and Brandon turned towards Anna.

  "Hey," the injured guard said, his voice shocked. "You shot the fucking guard!"

  "I did."

  Anna didn’t know how, for she didn't remember shooting any gun in her entire life, but she knew what to do as if it was second nature. She stood there, her arms still extended, the pistol in her clenched hands, the smell of gunpowder burning her nose. She breathed heavily, her pulse fast, her blood like ice in her veins.

  She slowly lowered her arms and stared at the man she’d shot, feeling nothing.

  Once the commando had Brandon in the ambulance, he climbed the stairs and came over to Anna. He took the weapon from her hands, prying her fingers away carefully.

  "Brandon says you can still stay," he said. "No cameras are working. No one has seen this."

  "He has." Anna pointed to the guard, who had risen on an elbow and was watching them. "So has the guard down there."

  "I can finish them off." The commando raised his weapon, pointing it at the guard behind her.

  "No." Anna grabbed his arm to stop him. "Enough people have died. They'll know sooner or later."

  The commando nodded. "Looks like you're coming with us after all."

  He led Anna over to the ambulance and helped her inside, then he closed the doors and went to the driver's side.

  Anna sat on the jump seat beside the gurney on which Brandon lay, and snapped out of her shocked state. She covered Brandon up with the sheets and blanket, taking the IV bag from him and attaching it to the pole.

  "Anna," he said, his voice soft, his face pale in the overhead light. "Come here." He took her hand and pulled her closer so that she was leaning over him, her elbows on either side of his shoulders. "I knew."

  "Knew what?"

  He pushed a stray hair from her forehead, his hand cupping her cheek. "I knew you had it in you."

  Then he pulled her down and kissed her, his hands on either side of her face.

  The ambulance sped away in the darkness.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The ambulance drove along the back roads along the coast of rural Virginia for hours. Brandon spent a lot of the time sleeping, while Anna sat on the jump seat beside him, her expression grim.

  When he did wake, he thought about what had just happened.

  Anna had shot, and possibly killed, an armed guard at a top-secret facility run by the CIA.

  Brandon wondered how she was handling that fact. She was bound to feel bad about breaking the law, defending him —someone who had been labeled a terrorist threat by her government. She had no idea all of this was a set-up to try to find her brother, and through him, the heads of the real terrorist organization.

  She couldn't know that, as much as Brandon wanted to tell her the truth, for she had no training in resisting torture. If they were caught and Brandon’s cover blown, she would be tortured and everything she thought she knew would be beaten out of her. It was a far better thing for her to truly believe that she was trying to find her traitorous brother.

  He was probably dead. Brandon wasn't certain of it, but he had set up a notice to Brandon in the event he didn't check in with his handler for more than two weeks. He would do whatever it took to check in, if he was still alive. Because he had missed his check in, and because his chip had gone offline, Brandon feared the worst.

  No. He was probably dead — his cover blown, and his life ended after a torture session that went too long. Or after all his secrets had been effectively extracted and they felt they no longer needed him alive.

  Brandon felt a gnawing in his gut at the thought that Theo was dead. They had been like brothers when they were deployed together in Afghanistan. He was as loyal and patriotic an American as anyone Brandon had ever met, but he was human, and the body could only take so much abuse before even an EW would fail.

  Brandon watched Anna where she dozed, her cheek pressed against her folded hands beside him on the gurney. It would be very hard for her to find out what happened to Theo, but if he was alive, they needed to find him, and needed to get to the real core of the militia—to Denton himself.

  Brandon met him once during training. He was a shadowy figure who spent most of his time in conference with his top advisors, and very little time with the troops. That was purposeful. His whereabouts were considered top secret; only those in the inner circle knew where he was at any given time. Theo had become one of his favorites and had breached the security of that small group, which comprised about five individuals, Denton's lieutenants all.

  Theo and Brandon were the last EWs in existence. Williams, their commanding officer—was dead, so it was only Theo and Brandon remaining. If Theo was dead, that left Brandon.

  Brandon had to find Theo and save him if he was still alive. If he wasn't, then Brandon had to replace him in that inner circle so they could learn the militia’s plans. If Theo was still alive, and if he was still in their good books but had been unable to contact his handler in the CIA, Brandon needed to use Anna to get to him. She was his cover.

  He hated to use Anna like that, but this was a matter of national security. One thing he did know about the militia's plans was that they wanted to start a civil war. A dirty bomb would be the signal for militias around the country, who had been preparing for civil war for years, to take action. While it was true that if you want peace you have to prepare for war, it's also true that you need to plan for war if you want war.

  And the militia had been planning for war for years.

  The van stopped at a small airfield along the coast. Their plane was waiting, the engines running, the pilot and co-pilot already in their seats.

  By then Brandon had improved quite a bit, and was walking alone without assistance. He changed quickly in the hangar before they boarded the small plane, pulling on a pair of jeans and a turtleneck. Over that, he slipped on a Kevlar vest, and on top of it all, a jacket. Finally, he pulled a cap on and adjusted the brim.

  "I feel almost human again," he said, giving Anna a smile. "It's amazing what going without a beating for twelve hours will do."

  "You look like your old self."

  "Here," he said and handed her a vest. "Put this on. You're in it now. Better be protected."

  She didn't argue. Instead, she slipped it on, and he helped her fasten the ties. As he looked in her eyes, an overwhelming sense of affection filled him for her. She was Theo's little sister. Theo had practically raised her himself after their mother was killed in a terrorist attack while in France. They were so close, and Brandon was using her like a piece of bait.

  C'est la guerre. Such was war.

  They boarded the small plane and took their seats, each of them sitting in a seat by a window.

  Brandon spoke with one of the commandos, who had taken off his balaclava.

  "How did you find me?"

  "We had a man inside the facility. When he got news that you were being transferred to a safer facility, we knew we had to act or we'd be out of luck. Thankfully they took you to the remote location first. It was pretty easy to take."

  "You guys used an EMP? That's pretty high-tech."

  "We were excited to use it, frankly. Worked like a charm. The ambulance was old, thankfully. Pre-1990 so it had no electronics in the critical functions."

  Finally, the plane taxied down to the beginning of the runway and then took off without delay, lifting off and soaring above the forested area into the night.

  They flew along the coast, and in the darkness, Brandon could make out small towns, the lights working. They were obviously outside of the zone affected by the EMP.

  The flight took a couple of hours. When they reached their destination, the plane landed at a small airport in the interior of Montana. A vehicle met them at the airport, surrounded by commandos dressed in black camo, weapons in hand. One of them met them at the plane, and shook hands with Brandon and the other soldiers. Then he saw Peter Campbell, one of his fellow militia members from Montana. They briefly embra
ced and Campbell smiled.

  "Hey, man. You look pretty rough, even for an EW."

  "I got special treatment from Special Agent Holmes."

  "Say no more," Pete said.

  Brandon waved Anna over. "This is Anna," he said and pulled her closer. "Theo's sister."

  "Hello, Anna," Campbell said. He had warm brown eyes and a well-trimmed beard, his hair longish like many in the special operations forces. They wanted to blend in with the locals, and the look stuck even after returning to the States.

  "I'm Pete Campbell. I'm a friend of your brother. I've got a vehicle that will take you both to the camp. We'll lay low for a couple of days, check to see what response comes from the Feds, and then move you to another location in town when it's safe."

  A guard opened a door to a black Hummer.

  "As you can see, we're moving up in the world," Brandon said to Anna, helping her up.

  She smiled. "You seem to have almost completely recovered," she said and watched as he climbed in beside her and fastened his safety belt. "You're in such high spirits, considering what you've been through in the past few days."

  "I love freedom," Brandon replied and adjusted his hat. "Can't stand being sick or out of commission."

  "Even you need down time," she said, her eyes narrow.

  "There'll be an eternity of sleep for all of us soon enough," he said, surprised at just how refreshed and positive he felt. "Now it's time to live."

  Anna buckled up and they drove from the small airport to a lake surrounded by a forest. They arrived at a collection of low single-story buildings that made up the base.

  Anna watched out the window, her expression anxious.

  "Welcome to Camp Gamma," he said, taking her hand in his and squeezing.

  She smiled softly. "What's this?" she asked, holding his hand up.

  "I don't know what it is, but it feels nice," he replied.

  She nodded and didn't pull her hand away. The two of them seemed to be drawn to each other inexplicably. Brandon didn’t fight it. Apparently, she didn't either.

  The vehicle stopped and they went inside one of the buildings. Typical for military barracks, it was made from a low hangar that could double to house military equipment, the exterior corrugated metal.

  "This will be your new home for the next while, until we can move you to the safe house in town," Pete said, walking around the space, pointing things out for them.

  He examined the interior. It had been renovated so that there were rough unfinished interior walls, and industrial linoleum on the floors. There was a fresh-drywall-mud smell to it, a bit damp. A hospital bed with telemetry on either side stood off in the corner, next to a desk with a computer on it. A comfortable armchair was off to the side and a flat-screen television hung on the wall.

  "I don't think I'll need that," he said. "I can sleep on an ordinary bed."

  "Suit yourself. We heard you were pretty beat up, so we wanted to be prepared."

  "I appreciate the sentiment, but I'm fine. Almost healed."

  "You EWs freak me out," Pete said, shaking his head.

  Brandon laughed and clapped Pete on the back. "There aren't many of us left," he said. "So you only have Theo and me to contend with."

  "Yeah," Pete said. "Theo's a crazy man. Fearless bastard."

  "That he is," Brandon said. "Can't wait to see him again. How is he?"

  Pete made a face, his expression painful. "Not good," he said. "They tried to remove his chip and it didn't go well. He's being kept in a medically induced coma. When they removed the chip, there was some kind of fail-safe mechanism in place that shut him down."

  Brandon glanced to Anna, who stood a few feet away. She'd covered her mouth with a hand, fighting emotion.

  "We didn't know," Brandon said.

  Pete's eyebrows raised. He glanced between Brandon and Anna.

  "Oh, shit. I'm real sorry," Pete said. "I was told you knew about Theo."

  "What do you mean, it shut him down?" she asked, her voice wavering with emotion.

  "It's a command and control chip, implanted in the brain stems of all EWs," Pete said. "It has these nano-fibers that extend into the brain stem and control consciousness, memory, motivation. They can shut you off like that, if you try to remove the chip." He snapped his fingers. "We had no idea and by the time we realized it, it was too late. Theo went out like a light three weeks ago, and when they tried to put the chip back in, he only woke temporarily and then went into some crazed conspiracy theory about the militia. He became violent and tried to kill his guards, so they had to put him out again. Denton's furious, as you can imagine. It's like trying to remove the chip triggered some kind of programming in him. They have a neurologist flying in from DC to examine him and hopefully get him back online, but until then, he's out of commission."

  Brandon turned to Anna and squeezed her shoulder. "Sorry you had to learn it this way."

  She shook her head and avoided his eyes, like she was struggling to retain control over herself. He could see her eyes brimming.

  "Is there anything they can do to fix him?" Brandon asked, putting his arm around her shoulders.

  "Not that we know. When you play around with the brain, you're playing with fire. We were hoping to find someone from the original research program who could help. Theo is pretty important to the cause."

  "I know," Brandon said and shook his head sadly. "He's important to all of us. Can we get in to see him?"

  "Sure, once we're sure we weren't followed. We need to lay low for at least twenty-four hours, but once we get the all-clear, I'll take you to him. You can see him for yourself, but he's out of it."

  Brandon pulled Anna into his arms and held her while she struggled to retain self-control.

  "Denton will want to speak with you," Pete said. "With Theo out of commission, we need someone with your particular skills."

  "I'm at his disposal," Brandon said. It might be easier than he imagined to get to Denton after all. He turned to Anna and looked into her eyes. "Are you okay?"

  She nodded. "Can I get some rest?" She wiped her cheeks. "I'm exhausted."

  Brandon turned to Pete. "Can you take us to our rooms?"

  "Sure," Pete said, and led them to a room at the back of the building with several bunk beds lined up along one wall. "This is where you'll sleep. Sorry you have to share, but this facility was designed for a group of men. There are no single bedrooms.”

  "I don't care," Anna said, and forced a smile. "I just need to sleep."

  She went to one of the bottom bunks and lay down, pulling the rough woolen blanket over her shoulder. He sat on the bunk beside her, adjusting her blankets.

  After a moment, she opened her eyes.

  "I'm sorry," he said and took her hand. "I didn't want this for you. I'm sure Theo didn't either."

  Her eyes were brimming once more. "What's done is done."

  He pulled the covers up to her shoulders. Then, like it was the most natural thing in the world, he bent down and kissed her—and she let him.

  He pulled back once the kiss finally ended. She turned over, her back to the room.

  He left her alone and switched off the overhead light. Then he went back into the main area.

  "You two a thing?" Pete said, gesturing with his chin to the room. "You seem intimate."

  "We were kind of thrown together in a life-or-death situation. It does that to you, sometimes."

  "I guess," he said. "Never happened to me. On my missions, I get stuck with old men and stinky soldiers who haven't had a bath for weeks. Not pretty young things like her."

  "She's Theo's sister, so it's not like that."

  That was enough to shut him up. He didn't need Pete prying into his relationship with Anna—whatever it was.

  In the far corner sat two sofas with a coffee table between them. The quality of the furniture and fixtures was military issue—boring, shit-brindle brown. Pete and Brandon went to a separate room, walled off from the rest of the space.

 
; Pete motioned to a chair, then sat at a desk and turned on a computer. "How are you feeling?"

  Brandon sighed. "That took a lot out of me, but I expect in a few hours, I'll be better."

  They spoke for about an hour, getting caught up on events of the past few weeks. About an hour in, Brandon was unable to hide a yawn.

  "Hey, if you're feeling rough, you should sleep," Pete said. "I'll bring you something to eat when you wake up. Is there anything you'd like?"

  "Food," Brandon said and grinned. "Whatever you've got. Preferably hot, but I'll eat cold if that's all you have."

  He went to the sofa against a wall, not wanting to go into the bedroom and wake Anna. He lay down and pulled a wool blanket over him, his back to the empty room. He felt numb after the events of the past three days. When he’d been sent on the mission to take Anna to find Theo, he hadn't expected to get caught up in an assassination plot. Someone had been following Anna and was going to shoot her. Brandon didn't have a choice but to shoot the sniper, because at that point, it was him or Brandon. But at the same time, he didn't take life lightly.

  He felt like his life had changed irrevocably, the dividing line clear.

  For whatever reason, Theo had decided to have his chip removed, and it had been a mistake. He'd lost consciousness and was in a coma, possibly permanently brain-damaged, and had been spouting nonsense about a plot at the highest levels of government.

  Brandon had trusted Singer without question when he went into the program years earlier, willingly offering himself as a human guinea pig for the military's tests of the new enhancement methods.

  He only hoped he hadn't put his trust in the wrong people.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Anna spent the next twenty-four hours in the facility, waiting for clearance to go to the main camp. Pete told them that Theo was being held at a secure location in the camp, and only after she was cleared would she be taken to see him.

  When she were finally cleared, Pete drove her to s building at the edge of a small wood. The guards seemed to expect them, waving the vehicle through without question when they saw Pete's ID.