“There isn’t a lot of time—”
“I know. But this needs to be done too. I’ll be there.” I fired at the men again, two falling while the other two made it out of my sight. Switching over to the team channel, I pressed my fingers together. “It’s going quiet down there. Anyone have visual on any targets?”
“No,” replied Cruz over the comm, which was good, considering he was two apartments down. Even with the thin walls, I doubted I could hear him over the sound of continuous gunfire. “They are dead or have fled.”
“Not quite yet,” I said. “Alejandro’s heading down to handle the people in front of the building.” My eyes returned to Mags and her team, huddled down low behind the brick half-wall that surrounded the park.
“I’m already down here, boyo,” Alejandro replied in my ear, and I heard the pop pop pop of the guns below suddenly pick up and increase. Through the goggles, I saw Mags and her team start firing, the sound rising to a steady cadence for a moment, and then falling silent.
“Street’s cleared,” Alejandro said, and I relaxed a little, watching as Mags and her team raced for the glass doors below me and out of my sight. I pulled off the goggles and set them down by the window. “We got a few scrapes and bruises,” the older man continued, “but nobody’s been shot.”
“Resupply with ammo on the second floor,” I said, pressing my fingers together. “I need four volunteers willing to stay behind and defend the position. I’m not just leaving a group of unarmed women in a city that’s tearing itself apart, so we’ll free them, find them some clothes, and arm them. For the volunteers, that means missing out on the showdown at the plant, but hey—this is the first taste of battle, and it’s okay to admit it if you can’t handle it. Now, hopefully that doesn’t mean all of you will race to take one of the volunteer positions…”
I heard Harry give a loud laugh in the other room, glad that it could ease the tension a little, in spite of what had just happened. I hoped other people who had heard it laughed as well, because that would help soften the blow that followed. “We have no time to rest, people. I’m sorry for that, but everyone is waiting for us at that plant. Once we get there, things are going to start immediately, and it’ll be a lot like this, possibly even worse. And I know it’s scary. I feel it—we all do. But we have a chance, a very real chance, to save this city, and show Elena that we are no longer running! This is where we make our stand. This is where we show her we can stop her. Let’s put a little fear in her heart for once.”
It was hard to tell how my speech went over, considering I was all alone in the room, but as I came out into the hall, Cruz was lounging against the doorframe to his room, one foot planted on the wall, his rifle balanced over his knee. “That was some speech,” he said with a twisted grin. “Very motivating.”
The way he said it made me suddenly doubt myself. I stared at him for a minute, and then moved downstairs, the compunction to immediately free those women overriding everything else for the moment. I’d ordered Gregory to help find the volunteers needed to hold the building for a few hours before we could come back for them. Hopefully.
Margot was exiting the corner room, pulling the door closed behind her, when I came down. She gave me a small smile. “That was a good speech,” she said softly. “It almost makes me feel bad about volunteering to stay behind.”
“I think that’s a good idea,” I said. “This has been…”
“A very different experience than I thought it would be,” Margot elegantly supplied, her mouth warm but her eyes grim. “And I can apparently give a repeat performance.” It took a second for her meaning to sink in, and when it did, I sighed. She’d killed again, probably in the street when they were running across the open space toward the apartment building. Licking her lips, she looked at her hands. “I’m a mother, Viggo. I have given life, and now I’ve taken it away.” Shaking her head, she met my eyes again. “It’s not right.”
I sighed and closed the distance between us, capturing her slim hand in between mine. “I meant what I said, Margot. There’s no shame in staying behind. I presume Cad will be staying?”
“He will. You know how hopelessly in love with me he is.”
“Well, we never said he was the brightest bulb in the—yow!” The sting from the palm of her hand on my shoulder was… impressive, and I rubbed the spot, trying to soothe away the pain. “Just kidding! Mercy!”
Margot chuckled, and I let go of her hand, glad that she’d gotten a laugh out of it. The smile chased away some of the darkness lurking in her eyes. On impulse, I pulled her against my chest and gave her a quick hug. She clung to me tightly for a moment, and then let me go, sniffling. “Please take care of yourself,” she said, reaching up to smooth down my shirt. “I have such a good wedding planned for you and Violet.”
I chuckled, then nodded. Glancing at the doors in the hall, my smile slipped, and I sighed heavily. “You need any help with the women the Porteque guys were… keeping prisoner?”
Margot gave me a look—one that told me I should know better—and shook her head. “Viggo, a man going into those rooms is not going to be well received right now, even if he is setting them free. Some of them are so drugged up they can barely speak. They’ve all been tied up and…” She trailed off, her eyes drifting down. “It’s just better if you go. We’ll handle it—stop wasting time with me.”
I let her push me toward the stairs, and after one last goodbye, I headed down. Mags and Alejandro were on the second floor, where the stockpiled supplies had been kept, watching carefully as ammo was being distributed, magazines refilled.
I slapped my empty one down on the table next to Gregory as I went by, and he didn’t miss a beat as he continued to slide bullet after bullet into the chamber. “You can do it yourself, Croft,” he said as he tapped the magazine and handed it back to the owner.
“Didn’t put them there for you to do, Miller,” I shot back, and he laughed.
“Arthur and Marna volunteered,” said Mags hurriedly. “So did—”
“Margot and Cad,” I finished for her, trying to speed things along. “I ran into her on the steps. We almost ready to go?”
Mags smiled and pulled out her map, tapping her finger on our position. “After you left, I realized there was another good reason to go after this building in particular,” she exclaimed. “We can just cut straight across here”—her fingers indicated—“using the alleys. They’re not on the maps, but I know they are there. Two blocks, Viggo, and we’re there.”
“What about the Porteque guys?” I asked.
“The ones who got away will seek shelter within other buildings, and the others will avoid the streets until they know what’s going on. Either way, it’s two blocks, and practically a straight shot. We should take it.”
I studied the map and then nodded. “Let’s do it.”
Moving back over to the table, I blinked as I picked up my magazines, the rounds packed in them. Gregory smirked as his fingers continued to move, and after a moment, I slipped them into my pocket and clapped him on the shoulder. “Thanks. Almost done?”
“Four more and we’re good,” he said, tossing a completed magazine into a duffel bag on the floor beside him. “I’ll meet everyone on the ground floor.”
I exited the room, practically plowing into Cad as he stepped onto the top step. “Hey, did—”
“I know you’re staying,” I said. “Margot told me—and I’m glad for it. Just be careful, okay?”
“Of course. Good luck at the plant.”
We exchanged a brief hug, and then I moved downstairs. Mags was already waiting by the door, a crowd of our men behind her, filling the hall. She surveyed the street, her blue eyes flicking up to me as I slowly pushed through the crowd, angling for the young man standing at her side.
Tim beamed up at me as I reached out to gently ruffle his hair. “You okay?” I asked. “You had me a little worried with that superhero thing… But I’ve gotta admit, it was pretty awesome.”
&
nbsp; “I sit. Good duck.” His reply was flippant, but I knew he had been a little rattled.
“You did a good job, Tim. I mean that… Just next time, wait for me, eh?”
“No promises,” Tim said, and I sighed. I often forgot that Tim and Violet shared the same trait for being headstrong and stupidly brave. I was going to have to keep my eye on both of them from here on out.
“How’s it look?” I asked Mags.
“Just waiting for the all clear from the fourth floor,” she replied.
I studied the street through the glass doors, looking past the bullet-riddled bodies and the torches still burning on their sides on the black street, to the park across from it. It offered plenty of cover. If I were lying in wait to shoot someone, I’d do it there.
“Park is clear,” announced Cad through the bud, and I heard people passing out the message to those who didn’t have comms. Then a beep at the command channel had me switching once again, hoping it wasn’t Ms. Dale telling me they were going to start without us.
“Guys, we got a big truck rolling up on the guard post,” said a less-familiar feminine voice instead, and I recognized it as Tasha, the Liberator who headed the small group we’d left to hold the guard post and cover our escape route, just in case. “It’s coming up fast.”
I checked my watch and cursed. It had been twenty minutes, give or take, since Desmond had escaped, and we had anticipated she might go for the nearest guard post, which was incidentally the one we’d captured—the worst way to puncture a hole in our defense.
“Roger,” said Henrik’s voice. “Violet is behind her by a few minutes, so just fend her off. Be careful.”
“We got this,” Tasha replied confidently, and I had to clench my teeth together to prevent myself from saying anything for fear it would make that confidence diminish. Moments passed with no update, and then thirty seconds… Even though I wasn’t there, I felt tense for them. I just hoped they had stopped her.
Forty-five seconds, then a minute… Still nothing. That wasn’t a good sign. Mags was raising her eyebrows at me, waiting for the sign for the final dash to our rendezvous, but I held on a minute longer, hoping something would come through.
“Tasha, report,” Henrik’s voice cut in finally. Silence greeted us both. I held my hand up to my earbud, clenching my teeth together as Henrik repeated Tasha’s name.
His voice was resigned as he said to everyone, “With no response from Tasha, I am ordering us to go to tango foxtrot. I’ll let Drew know we changed the main channel.”
A sinking feeling in my chest, I acknowledged his order and then switched channels, first to inform my team, then to check in with the rest of command.
Finally, I looked around at my team. “Desmond is coming up on the plant fast, guys,” I said, both to those around me and over the team radio, trying to keep the worry from my voice. “She might already have taken out one of our guard posts. So we need to get to the rendezvous posthaste. Let’s make it count.”
I gave the signal to go, and Mags leapt out the door of the building ahead of me, her face grim. She took the steps two at a time, and I kept close on her heels as she moved down the street, hooking a left into the narrow alley between the apartment we’d cleared and the adjacent building. It was a tight fit. I had to move sideways, but we made it through, the rest of our group silently squeezing in behind us.
Mags ducked low, her weapon in her hands, and led us on, weaving through the cars on the street to the alley on the other side. I hung back, checking the buildings as the team moved past me, with Mags holding her position on the other side, clearing the windows on her side of the street before letting them continue. As soon as the last person exited the alley, I sprinted over to the other side, and then slowed to a jog as I moved past the single line of people who stood with their backs to the wall.
When the next alley opened up, there were no buildings on the street it opened onto, but rather another park, this one larger than the last one. Recalling the images Violet and Thomas had captured of the park just left of the plant, I felt a rush of appreciation toward Mags.
We crossed the empty street at a run, entering through a metal ironwork gate and heading left, following the ground’s gradual slope up. The left side of this park bordered the road leading into the plant. We made our way through the dark trees and over part of a brick wall.
As soon as I saw the trees thinning, I raised my fist, ordering the group to stop. I slipped onto my belly, using my elbows and knees to move through the leaves on the ground. A road slowly came into view as I crept out of the tree line.
I looked up the hill, following the light gray line of the street as it moved several hundred feet farther up a steep incline. I could make out the top of the water treatment plant just above the horizon of the hill, and I moved back into the tree line. Once I was back with my team, I pressed my fingers together.
“We’re in position,” I announced on the main channel. “Ready to go when you are.”
30
Violet
I was sitting in the backseat, leaning in between the front two seats, my body wedged into the gap. “How far are we from the guard post?” I asked, my eyes watching the pavement as it disappeared beneath us.
Owen slowed and downshifted, expertly hooking a left down a paved road. “We’re two minutes out,” he replied.
I bit my lip and leaned back into the seat. From beside me, Morgan cleared her throat, and I turned toward her, surprised to find her pressed between me and the door. “Do you mind?” she asked, holding up her hand and flicking the backs of her fingers at me.
“Sorry,” I said contritely, scooching over a few inches and giving the raven-haired girl some space.
“Don’t worry about it,” she said, her eyes drifting out the window beside her. She folded her arm over her stomach and then reached up with her other hand to press on the skin right under her bruised eye.
“Does it hurt?” I asked.
Her turquoise eyes flicked back to me, and she shifted slightly in her seat. “Like the side of my face has been tenderized, salted, turned into jerky, and then shredded right off my skull,” she said after a minute.
I cringed at the graphic description, but as I reflected on it, I realized it was an accurate account of what it felt like to get punched by an enhanced human. That was a feeling I’d experienced plenty of times in my life, even before… this. “That is a really good way to describe that,” I said in awe, and Morgan gave a surprised laugh.
“What’s so funny?”
“Nothing,” she said, scrunching her shoulders together. “Just… you didn’t find that disturbing?”
“I mean, yes, but not because it was weird. It was disturbing because it was ridiculously accurate. You have a way with words.”
The compliment caught her off guard, and she looked forward, considering what I had just said. “I didn’t realize Cody could hit that hard,” she said, seeming to ignore the emotional content of the discussion, and I let her, seeing that it was making her feel awkward.
“It’s kinetic energy,” Owen informed us from the front seat. “Cody’s speed doubles as strength, hitting with the force in the speed he’s moving at. You’re lucky you were in an enclosed room with him. He could’ve killed you if he’d had a bigger head start.”
“That sounds like Jay’s super strength,” I muttered.
“It’s not exactly the same,” replied Owen as he hooked another turn. “I think Jay’s muscle fibers are woven together more tightly, giving him more strength than you and I possess. Cody’s enhancement is actually more similar to Tim’s—when Tim’s reflexes kick in, it looks like he has enhanced speed too, but that’s just because the relays between his brain and his muscles move at a significantly faster rate than most of ours do. So he just… reacts in an instant, faster than we can perceive.”
“Either way, it’s not doing my face any favors,” Morgan sulked, still pressing her fingers to her face, and Owen chuckled.
�
�Don’t worry, Morgan. You’re still as beautiful as ever.”
Just like when I’d complimented her, Morgan didn’t reply, but I noticed her cheeks going darker in the dim light from the console. I looked at Owen, who was obliviously heading down the road, then back to her and the casual way she was trying to hold herself. Realization came like a bullet, and I met Morgan’s eyes in the darkness.
No wonder she was so interested in what was happening with Owen. I’d thought it had to do with the fact that they had been Liberators together, but it had never occurred to me that there was something more to it. Maybe it had been hard for me to imagine anybody feeling that way about Owen, even before everything had gone down, because he’d always felt like a brother to me. But Morgan liked him. Romantically.
She held my gaze, her eyes flat, expressionless, and then turned back to the window, presenting me with a shoulder. She clearly didn’t want to talk about it, which was fine. We weren’t really in a place to have that conversation anyway, for so many reasons.
“Slow down, Owen,” Lynne said from the passenger’s seat, her voice soft. “What is that?”
An acrid smell of something burning filled my nose seconds later, and I wrinkled it in distaste. Whatever was burning wasn’t wood. I leaned over to look out the window, and paused when I saw the dense haze we were driving through.
Owen hissed and jerked the wheel as an object loomed out of the darkness in front of the car, narrowly missing it. “I can’t see anything in this,” he spat. “What was that?”
“I think it was an overturned barricade,” Morgan said.
“What is that?” breathed Lynne into the darkness. “Is that the guard post?”
The alarm in her voice had me crowding Morgan over so I could shove forward in between the seats again. The dense, dark gray fog began to glow red as we rolled forward, and the smoke started to thin. Owen slowed us down to a crawl as he navigated us past another two barricades—one smashed, the other overturned—and then the smoke cleared.
The Gender Plan Page 26