Looking around, I asked, “A show of hands please—who here has spies in that slaver camp?”
At first, nobody wanted to admit it, but then Richards raised a hand, followed by Blake, and soon Scott as well. Rita, too, but I ignored her. Pia’s arms remained crossed in front of her chest, and I could tell that annoyed the fuck out of her. Smiling pleasantly at the other three cooperative groups, I gave a curt nod. “Sounds about right to me. So it’s a solid plan.”
Scott gave me a look as if I’d finally gone insane. “There’s no plan whatsoever, and even less a solid one,” he spat.
I shrugged off his criticism. “Sure, we need to work out the details, but the framework is set. Someone from each group comes in with the scavengers. We do recon, we touch base with the spies who will know all the details we need to know. We send someone back out to alert the others and let them in. We find our objective, and we leave. Unless I’m missing something here, it’s a pretty solid, straight-forward mission.” And so very unlike anything I’d ever been a part of. I was well aware of that, and I was sure that, as soon as we were among ourselves once more, Pia would lay out all the many, many things that could—and therefore would—go wrong. But that didn’t change the fact that, suddenly, the future looked a lot less glum than this morning.
“That’s the shittiest plan I’ve ever heard,” Scott grated, only to be interrupted by Harris.
“It’s a great idea,” he insisted. “And never you soil your panties over their strength in numbers. If you disregard all the working personnel, and the civilians, there are less than four hundred guards and fighters in that camp. They are dug in like ticks and could mobilize a good thousand strong for assault defenses, but nobody will give a shit if a few people come or go. We never had any issues with them, unlike with other fine examples of civilized folks.” The way he glared at Rita made it obvious who he was talking about—which surprised me a little, considering I’d have expected that animosity toward the bunch from the army.
Sheesh, even my grudges had become outdated!
Blake and Buehler exchanged a few hushed words before Blake gave me a nod. “It’s not a solid plan, but it’s less hare-brained than what we’ve dreaded someone might propose.” The way he glared in Scott’s direction made it obvious who he was referring to.
Scott, of course, couldn’t let that slide. “Because you’ve offered up so many useful suggestions? Oh, right—that would be none.”
As amusing as their bickering was, it didn’t exactly help the general climate of our negotiations. Richards seemed to think along the same lines, physically stepping forward to break the line of sight between the two groups. “Can you keep your personal animosities out of this for the time being? We get it—you’re a house divided. But for this, we need unity.”
Blake appeared borderline chastised, but Scott wasn’t ready to let go yet. “Yeah, you’re one to talk. Your own bullshit ended in not one but several waves of civil war.”
Richards didn’t even look at me—or Harris—as he fixed Scott with a hard stare. “Whatever the nature of the ensuing issues has been, we’ve always been one united front.”
That made me perk up—and not just me, judging from Martinez muttering under his breath, “Wrong move.” Of course I couldn’t let that one pass.
“You sure about that, Richards?” I called across the wide open space between them and the rest of us. Suddenly, it made a lot of sense to have us, the scavengers, traders, and Rita’s bunch on one side of the circle, and the others over there. “Because last time I checked, a few things happened that might make me rather disinclined to work with you. Or has your narrative changed in the meantime? Does the US Army now support raping and killing women for the sake of science and some asshole’s personal amusement?”
Only when I saw Scott chuckle did I realize it had been a trap—and I got the well-deserved condescension from Richards for it, if only in the form of a bland look. “I thought you’d finally buried that hatchet?” he rasped.
I answered that with a shrug. “It’s a rather shallow grave.” The Ice Queen seemed rather amused by my admission, but I didn’t miss the hint of exasperation crossing her expression. Message received—I couldn’t call the others to order and misbehave myself. So I did what nobody likely expected of me—and dropped the point. “But you are right—our shared, common goal has been to support the people whichever way we can manage it. Yes, there have been setbacks, and we’ve had the odd bad egg to deal with. I’ve worked with you in the past, and I’m ready to do so again, provided you are here to turn things around. As I said before, that should be our goal. Any objections? Because if we keep running in circles, nothing will change, least of all for the better.”
I got a lot of grim, haughty looks back, but no objections. That boded well.
“This is my signal to go,” Rita offered. “I’ve tried to warn you. You won’t listen. My hands are clean.” She glanced over to the trader group. “If you want to, you can hitch a ride with us. I know you think you’re safe with those four vehicles of yours, but once you get rid of most of your weapons and ammo, you’re just another target like any other out there. And we all know that just because some people hold grandiose speeches of unity and peace doesn’t mean others will listen.” Harris ignored the side-eye she gave him and his people.
The leader of the traders looked conflicted enough that I wondered if my previous alignment with Harris was clouding my judgment whether we could trust him, but decided to trust Pia instead. She wouldn’t have pulled strings to make this happen if she didn’t think we’d need it, and come out on top. She didn’t look happy with Rita’s declaration, but left the traders all of a second to waver in their conviction.
“You should go with them,” she pointed out. “We owe you for bringing provisions. We won’t demand you risk your lives on top of that.” She turned to the two guards next to her. “Kepler, Halecki, coordinate with them so that they can leave as soon as possible.”
As if that had been a signal, our neat circle started to disperse, leaving the marines and Richards as they had already settled down with tents and all. Turning to Marleen, I found her grinning at me with anticipation. “Oh, this is going to be fun!” she enthused. “I just know it!”
Somehow I doubted that—but nothing I could do about that now. Time would tell.
Chapter 18
Prep work ate up another astounding five days, most of which I spent either sitting around, bored out of my mind, or bickering with one uncooperative faction or another. And once everyone was ready with all potential backup about to arrive and contingency plans laid out, it turned out we weren’t as united as I liked to believe as well when it got to selecting who would be among the first wave of infiltrators to hitch a ride with Harris. That I would be going was obvious—but that left a few open spaces in the car, red, white, and black paint all over it drying at the moment. And it wasn’t like it was an easy decision.
Before the accident that had seriously threatened his health, my first choice would have been Andrej. He was one of Nate’s closest friends, he was one of our heavy bruisers, his accent and behavior didn’t scream Army Boy from ten miles away, and I had a certain feeling this wasn’t even the hundredth time he’d done something like this. Problem was, Zilinsky had barely let him come along, and the fact that he had a permanent limp and severely hampered depth perception because of losing an eye wasn’t making him a perfect candidate.
Pretty much the same was true for Martinez, although he was in somewhat better physical shape. He also insisted that it was highly likely Nate might need his expertise. I agreed, but Zilinsky was right when she tartly told him that he’d be of much more use back in our forward position where he could set up a triage station and help others who might get injured as well. I was surprised that she didn’t call out his physical shortcomings, but then I was likely benefitting of the same somewhat softer approach she seemed to have adopted.
Marleen was another point of contention. “I’m
coming with you,” she said in a tone that left no room for doubt. And far was it from me to protest, but Pia had other ideas.
“I need you for analysis of the recon intel we get,” she let the spunky assassin know.
Marleen wasn’t impressed hearing that. “Anyone can analyze intel. But I’m your best infiltrator,” she insisted. “And I’m a free agent. Who says I let you boss me around?”
Both then looked at me, seeking support. I threw my hands up, taking a step back. “Woah, hold your horses! I’m not getting into this. You decide this on your own.”
Now the Ice Queen looked pissed at me, which wasn’t lost on Marleen. Rather than further antagonize her, Marleen switched tracks. “You have no spies in there. And just because I go with the first group doesn’t mean I can’t be around after we’ve collected all the information we can get. Finding a quick, secure exit route is part of my plan. I’m quite happy to test-drive it as well. And this way, I won’t have to rely on anyone’s recount but I can see things firsthand.” The look she cast the Ice Queen turned considering. “Actually, I’d go as far as to say you need me inside that camp. Who are you going to rely on, huh? Her?” I pointedly raised my brows when Marleen looked at me. She gave me a quick smile but otherwise ignored me. “Her one and only concern is to find her husband. Which is great because she has the most motivation to get him out, so she will be best-suited to find him and get him to safety. But that means she will miss a ton of clues and other things. Also, last time I looked, she was a scientist and semi-proficient fighter, not an intel gatherer. You need someone who knows what to look for, not bumble her way through it. I’m all for using a drunken monk-style in hand-to-hand combat if it will give me an edge over my opponent, but you wouldn’t send an actual drunk monk into a death match.”
Pia considered her words, which gave me time to speak up. “Are you done insulting me yet?”
Marleen gave me a curious look, as if she didn’t get what I was referring to. “I’m not insulting you. I’m stating facts. Wouldn’t be an insult if I said you’re not my first choice for a rock-climbing expedition, either. Check your ego, bitch. It’s showing—and it will get you killed if you let it dictate your every action,” she wisely advised. “We already have far too many assholes around who are solely motivated by the next chance to compare dick sizes. If nothing else, it’s your responsibility to use your brain instead.”
I almost missed the grin that crossed Pia’s expression, and my venomous glare seemed close to provoking a repeat incident. She finally nodded, which was all Marleen needed to accept her victory with a similar gesture. “Great, that’s two of us. Who gets the other two seats?”
Pia cast a look around but quickly returned her attention to me. “Burns is a good option. I’m surprised you haven’t suggested him yet.” It was obvious that she left out the accusation that came with the question.
I felt a tad defensive as I crossed my arms over my chest. “If you’re insinuating that I’m passing him over because of Sonia, it’s not that. But I presume they are a package deal, and they will be much more useful as backup for the second wave. Burns isn’t exactly the most incongruous guy. People know him. People remember and recognize him. I’ll be very happy to have him at my back when I need someone to have it, but for sneaking around, he might not be my number one option.”
“Number two,” Marleen offered. “I’m your number one.”
I felt like rolling my eyes at her—hadn’t she just accused me of making everything into a popularity contest?—but instead looked around for other options. “What’s with your old guard? Rozen, Cohn, and Calveras all look like they know what they’re doing.”
Pia shook her head. “They do, but I want them as backup.”
“Care to explain why?”
Her glare told me I shouldn’t need to ask, but when I didn’t back down, she let out an exasperated sigh. “I need someone committed to the cause. Committed enough that if they get caught, they can and will hold out long enough that backup can arrive.”
“You mean, withstand torture?” My, wasn’t that a great consideration, warming my heart and soul.
Pia didn’t bat an eyelash. “I’m not exactly planning for it, but it’s a possibility. I’m surprised you haven’t done so yet.”
I had, on some level—but not this in-your-face. “Santos and Clark,” I said, not needing to give it much more thought. “They are both fit enough, and they have skin in the game where Nate is concerned. I’ve heard Santos on more than one occasion boast that if Nate hadn’t approached him at the barricade at the bridge in Lexington, he’d have been dead minutes later. And Clark is one tenacious mofo.” That reminded me of something I hadn’t gotten around to asking yet. “What became of his flirting with that one-legged dog trainer from that town where we traipsed into Taggard’s trap? I’m kind of surprised I didn’t see her in California.” That had been one tough broad—and nice, too, not a combination found too often.
Pia’s hint of a smile alleviated some of my latent fears. “She’s taken up residence in Utah,” she explained. “Minerva made her an offer too good to refuse. She’s now training others to train more dogs. And wolves, too, from what Clark has told me. They use them for hunting and as guard dogs outside the settlement. Dogs are way better than humans at smelling decay, and they can’t get infected. He came down to us when he heard you were about to show up. Good choice. Santos, too. I’ll let them know.”
It was only then that I realized she’d actually let me decide. Now that she was confirmed on the team, Marleen made herself scarce again, leaving me to follow the Ice Queen on her trek across our haphazard basecamp. “Care to explain what that was all about?” I asked when I was sure Marleen was out of earshot.
Pia didn’t miss a step but took a moment to judge my reaction as she stalked on. “It’s about time you’re in command for real, not just in name,” she tartly responded. “Either step down, or take responsibility. You can’t pick and choose forever. I’ll always be there to help you make decisions, but you have the final word.”
Her words almost made me stumble, and I had to run a few steps to catch up with her again. “I don’t get it. Why now? Not that I’m protesting. You’ve all had opportunity enough for five lifetimes to chase me around. I’m more than ready for some payback.”
She came to a halt, both so I could catch up, and to fix me with a quite potent glare. “Bree, you are aware that even if Miller is still alive, and even if we get him out, there’s a good chance that he’s in no condition to do anything but recover for a while? Who do you think will be running this shit-show then?”
That was a sobering thought. Again, nothing exactly new, but somehow it had taken her statement for the reality of it to really sink in. “You think it’s going to be that bad?”
She hesitated, which made me stomach sink further. “What I think is of no consequence,” she finally supplied. “My job is to plan for any and all eventualities. Do I hope he’s his usual chipper and capable self? Yes. Do I expect it? More likely is a somewhat tarnished-around-the-edges version of it. We both know he’s a tough bastard, and he’s easily motivated by revenge and redemption. And, just like you, he can’t show weakness unless he absolutely has to. But even so, his job will be easier if he can rely on you to not just be a rambunctious sidekick but his equal partner in crime. Whatever you like to tell people, you were barely more than a figurehead when we went after the assholes in Colorado. This time around, be the leader you were meant to be.”
Trust it to her to give me both an inspirational pep-talk and knock me down a few notches. Her confidence in me did a few things for my ego, but I’d heard enough caution from Nate—and acquired first-hand experience—to know this being-a-leader gig didn’t come with positives only.
Our established camp was still a good three hundred miles from our destination—far enough away that no random patrols should stumble over us, but close enough that we could get there within two days. It had been Richards who had suggested
that the first wave of infiltrators head straight to the slaver camp rather than help establish our forward base—that way, they could only torture directions out of us, and not the actual location. I really didn’t care for the implication, but it was smart thinking. It also meant that today was the last time I’d be surrounded by people I trusted with my life—later this afternoon, once we hit the road, things would be very different.
I couldn’t wait to get started.
We ended up settling on eight cars—one from us, one with Richard’s people, and one from the marines each, leaving four vehicles full of scavengers. Pia had offered the remainder of Harris’s people to stay with them since none of the other groups seemed ready to put up with them. It wasn’t hard to see why—or hear, or smell, or guess in general. If not for how much time we’d lost already, I would have called for more planning to maybe find another way. But as it was, we had no time, and no one had miraculously thought of something else, so pretending to be a bunch of unwashed savages it was.
We took our leave in the afternoon, with time aplenty to get the first hundred miles down. We had enough provisions since we only had to plan for a maximum of three days on the road. A lot of our real gear was left with the base camp, same as weapons and surplus ammo. Since we had no idea how much of what we brought would remain with us, it was better to go in reasonably light, if packing enough that we could defend ourselves. Scott and the two operators he’d brought with him had protested vehemently, but they, more than I myself at least, should have seen that this made sense. Even with trying to dress down, they still stood out the most; Richards and his guys weren’t much behind, though. Cole, Hill, and Gallager had remained behind so the three men he’d brought instead were as much a mystery to me as Scott, but they behaved about as stupid as the marines. Their antics had made me borderline apprehensive of stopping for the night, but Buehler and her people were a welcome surprise, blending in just as well as Santos, Clark, and Marleen. Thankfully, Harris turned out to have more command over his rabble than I’d been afraid of from what I’d heard about them so far, but that wasn’t saying much. I instantly missed Pia as we made camp, and it took all of five minutes for the first fight to start.
Green Fields (Book 10): Uprising: Page 27