by L. E. Horn
Michael’s keen eyes spotted her before Drake did. He pointed her out to the captain who was astonished he could track her without magnifiers.
More mutations? he wondered.
Hannah wore her full camouflage, hair mottled to blend with the dappled shadows. Nearly invisible in her Vloxx cape, she made her way along the tree branch until she poised above the nearest building.
Quicker than an eye could blink, her small form dropped onto the building. She was there and gone, sliding into the deeper shadows.
Drake released his breath. The rebel captain panned his lenses across the clearing, softly counting the Farr sentries off one by one. Nobody seemed alarmed. Time passed. Drake grew restless, and Michael adjusted the sword across his back for the twentieth time. The tension built with every minute.
“There,” Michael whispered when he spotted the redheaded Healer crawling onto the roof of a small building. Drake focused his lenses on her and made out the pale movement of her hand as she waved.
Drake lowered the magnifiers and held a hand up to his mouth, directing his voice into the small com unit strapped to his ear. “We’re on,” he said. “Take them out.”
AT DRAKE’S COMMAND, THE BEAST within Michael ramped up to level Six. He took a deep, rather shaky, breath and held it. He sensed Drake looking at him. The captain said nothing as he raised his lenses and searched for sentries.
Michael didn’t know which Farr Drake had assigned Lianndra. It would be a true test of his control to watch her in danger and not be there to help if she needed it.
Would I be better off not watching? I could rejoin the men in the undergrowth. His heart accelerated, and he swallowed. No, I need to know what is going on. Not knowing would be worse. Drake understood. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have let me up in the tree to begin with.
“One down.” Drake’s voice remained soft and steady, providing a mental foothold for Michael as he hovered near level Seven. “Two. Nice and quiet. The lizards didn’t know what hit them.”
Michael marveled at the Healers’ silent lethality. One touch was all it took. It was terrifyingly easy for them. I’m glad they’re on our side. Imagine what an entire army of them could do.
“Three,” Drake said. “Four is gone. I didn’t even see him go. That’s it for the Healers, now the soldiers.”
The two soldiers would need more time. They had to take the Farr out with a single strike. Lasers proved too noisy for this work, especially the old weapons the rebels gleaned. Drake’s men had become experienced hand-to-hand killers of Farr. Sean was as adept with a knife as Drake himself. Within moments, the last two sentries were dead.
Drake looked at Michael.
“Seven,” Michael grabbed Drake by the back of his weapons harness and skrinned them both to the ground.
SEVEN’S NOT BAD, CONSIDERING LIANNDRA’S down there, Drake reassured himself as his feet landed on the ground with a soft thud. The remaining soldiers surrounded the two as they crept into the clearing. Just hold it together, mate.
Sean and the other soldier rejoined the group. They waited for the Healers, who’d taken on the Farr sentries from the other side. Lianndra was the last Healer to jog up, her face solemn as she joined them. Andrea reached out and touched her on the arm. Lianndra nodded to the tall Healer and squeezed Andrea’s hand in reply.
The entire group slipped into the shadows of a building and flattened themselves against the rusty metal. Hannah joined them in the darkness. “I could make out two guards just inside the main door,” she whispered. Drake nodded. “They shackled the women to the back wall. Some look pretty roughed up.” She pointed to the larger building just beyond them. “There is a unit of about twenty Farr commandos asleep in there.”
Commandos. Damn. Drake considered for a moment. That meant the two guards within the building would be commandos as well, a step up from the usual Farr. He would have to remove them—discreetly.
Drake hoped their small laser cutters could cope with the shackles if the commandos in the hut didn’t have the electronic key for them. He glanced at Michael, who watched him with glowing eyes. Could Michael break the shackles, without triggering a complete Berserker mode? Of course, if we wake up the remaining commandos, we’ll need the Berserker.
Drake had a preformed plan, and he would stick with it as long as he could.
“I’m going in,” he explained to the others. He saw Hannah stiffen and the attention of his soldiers intensified. His men may be experienced fighters, but deception called for a different skill set. Drake retained some limited experience in subterfuge from his days back on Earth. I must do this. “I’ll take two Healers as my captives—as if to add them to the mix. We only need to buy enough time for them to touch the guards and it’s game over.”
Hannah nodded her understanding. “I’m one.”
Drake held her eyes. She hasn’t used her talents to kill yet. “You know what this entails? You must kill him, Hannah. Without hesitation.”
Andrea spoke up. “I’ll go. I have no qualms taking them out. I’ve already done it once.”
“I can do it.” Anger filled Hannah’s whispered voice. “When you see the women, you’ll understand.”
Lianndra looked as if she would speak, but glanced toward Michael, breathing heavily in the shadows.
Drake shook his head at her and she subsided. Michael is too close to losing it. Andrea, Hannah, and I will do this.
Drake put a hand out to squeeze Michael’s arm as he and the two Healers passed by. The tall man’s arm was hard as rock. “Still Seven?” he whispered.
Michael grunted an affirmative.
As Drake’s assigned second, Sean whispered orders to the other soldiers. They spread out in the shadows, getting into place to help the captain if things failed.
Drake banged on the door with as much nonchalance as he could muster. After two days of fighting through the jungle, he at least looked the part of a tired, exasperated slave entrusted with escorting annoying captives to the commandos’ hideout.
The tall Farr opening the door appeared alert and suspicious. He surveyed the Healers, who stood enmeshed in a skrin attached to Drake’s wrist. With the grim state of the war, Drake trusted the makeshift look of his arrangements would pass muster.
“Two more for the pot,” he said, inserting just the right amount of distaste. “Straight from the front lines. I’ll be glad to get them off my hands.”
The Farr peered at him, eyes swirling orange. A gruff voice behind the hulking alien said something in their guttural native tongue.
“In,” the Farr croaked, stepping back to allow them to enter.
The other Farr rose from his seat at a small metal table and approached. Drake glanced down—then quickly away. Blood covered the floor, and it looked fresh. The second Farr seemed even larger and more suspicious than his counterpart, and equally hungry for blood. He reached out and grabbed Andrea’s arm, his purple tongue flicking out to run along his lips.
Skin to skin. The second Farr stopped in mid-stride, staggering. Two seconds later, the larger Farr gurgled as he hit the floor—dead.
Quick as a flash, Hannah tripped forward and fell into the first Farr commando, reaching out a hand to grab his bare arm. He fell silently, his orange eyes widened into a look of shock.
A quick search of the commandos confirmed Drake’s assumption—they didn’t have the electronic key for the shackles. The unit commander must have it.
Drake turned to open the door they’d just entered. Michael strode in, with Lianndra on his heels. Andrea stood by the inner door, examining the crude chain and lock fastening it.
Strong arms picked her up as Michael moved her aside. With a snarl, he gave a single sharp tug on the chain and it snapped.
The door swung open to carnage.
The small room held upward of thirty women, some fully modified Healers, others older versions. Blood covered the women and everything else. The room stank of it, and fear, and pain.
Beside him, Drake
heard a low rumbling growl. He turned and grabbed Michael by the arms. “Out, mate. Now. I need you on guard duty.”
Michael snarled, and Drake caught the flash of his fangs in the dim light.
Andrea moved between them. “Michael. It’s okay. They’re alive, just in rough shape. We’ll get them out. Just keep watch by the door. We’ll call you if we need you.”
Drake knew the big man hovered close to losing it, but Andrea’s quiet words seemed to help. Stiffly, Michael turned and left.
Andrea traded a look with Drake and Lianndra. Drake activated his comm button, calling in three soldiers with laser hand cutters. Then they all got to work.
It took a concentrated beam to free the women of their lightweight, but strong, restraints. Drake called in another man to help. That left six soldiers plus Michael outside, in addition to Kate and Laura on sentry duty in the jungle.
Drake helped a woman to her feet and into Lianndra’s arms. The blonde Healer spoke to her as she escorted her to the waiting men. If not for the woman’s healing skills, she wouldn’t be alive. She had a throat savagely torn by a Farr who didn’t care whether she survived.
If only these women knew the power within their hands. Drake scanned the women in the room. There are likely more rebel Healers in this group. Ours will be able to figure it out once we get these poor women out of here. If we get them out of here.
As he stepped forward, the woman next in line cowered away from him with terror in her eyes. Drake called Hannah over. Whatever had brutalized this woman hadn’t been a Fang. Looking at her injuries, Drake’s stomach swam. He hated to think a fellow human did this to her.
An urgent female voice on his comm snapped him to attention: Laura. He listened attentively.
“Cap, we’ve got trouble. Another unit, incoming. Two captives and about twenty soldiers.”
“Monitor, but watch yourself,” Drake told her. “Dammit,” he muttered as he signed off and turned to those in the building. They’d only freed half the women so far. “Hurry up on those shackles.” He activated his comm and spoke to the soldiers outside. “James, Sean, take the women we have and pull back to the east side. Fang unit incoming west side. Twenty soldiers with captives. Get the women into the jungle, hold for further orders.” He paced through to the smaller outer room as he spoke, stepping over the dead Fang. “I need the rest of you east of this building but pull back enough to give us breathing room.”
Drake reached the outer door and opened it to reveal Michael, standing with crossed arms. Drake grabbed him and hauled him into the building, something he ordinarily would not have dared to do at level Seven. Fortunately, the time alone outside seemed to have calmed Michael.
“Mate, I need these women freed from their shackles now,” Drake said, his voice steady but tense. “Can you do it?”
Michael nodded and pushed past him into the larger room. The closest women shrank away from the big man with the glowing gold eyes. Ignoring their reaction, Michael assessed the situation. Rather than attack the shackles individually, he bent over and grabbed the metal bar that bound the Healers. With a great heave, he freed it from the bolts anchoring it to the wall. A few women cried out, staring in amazement.
Michael freed the second bar on the third heave, snarling as he did so. Drake and the others worked to guide the remaining women, still bound together by the bar, outside.
“Get them to the blokes in the jungle and get the restraints off,” Drake ordered the four soldiers with the laser cutters. “I’ll buy you some time.” He led Michael and the three Healers into the shadows where the remaining men crouched. “Give me your K-12s,” he said to them. The soldiers hurried to strip the small grenades off their weapons belts and hand them over. “Now go and help the others. If we are not back by the time you get the Healers free, start working your way west and don’t stop until you can call in the Gryphon.” All the soldiers hesitated until Drake barked at them. “Go. We’re set. I have three stealth fighters and a bomber. What could go wrong?”
That earned him reluctant smiles all around, and the soldiers traded looks with Michael before they melted into the darkness.
“Laura,” Drake paged the Healer in the jungle, “ETA on the Fang unit?”
“About five minutes. They have two captive Healers.” Her voice was tight with tension.
“How many Fang?” he asked.
“Just the commander. Two Bernaf, mid-column, just ahead of the captives.”
“You’ve done all you can. You and Kate get out of there. Fly cover for our unit. They’re hunkered down east of the clearing. Coordinate with Sean.”
Drake heard her sign off. Two captive Healers, about twenty soldiers, a Fang commander and a building full of Fang commandos. Dammit.
With the new unit approaching, he couldn’t afford to let sleeping dogs—or in this case, commandos—lie. He needed to buy his people as much time as he could.
All remained quiet and calm in the clearing. The sentries’ bodies had been well hidden in the foliage. The incoming unit is unlikely to recognize their absence as anything other than slack leadership. Although as soon as their Fang commander approaches the commando building to report in, the jig will be up.
“Stay here,” he whispered to Michael and the three Healers. In seconds he was in the shadows of the commandos’ building, leaving a few surprises along the eastern wall. To avoid detection, Drake could only put explosives along the back wall—the devastation would be localized to that area.
In moments he returned, minus all but two K-12s. He had one control module, which he calibrated for a simultaneous detonation. It would have to do.
At the clearing’s west end, the first Fang unit slave soldiers appeared. They looked around them, momentarily confused at the lack of sentries. Then the Fang commander strode into view with a Bernaf bodyguard on each side of him. Behind the commander, soldiers pushed two women ahead. The Healers stumbled along with bound hands. They didn’t look stable on their feet.
Drake whispered to his three Healers, sending them to help Sean. They can’t help us here. This will require a more direct approach. Lianndra glanced at Michael before they vanished, keeping to the shadows on the east side of the buildings. As the women slipped away, Drake crouched beside Michael. “Three minutes to level Eight,” Drake whispered. “If any of those commandos make it out, I’ll need you to take care of them.”
Michael nodded, pulling his lips back from his teeth and reaching over his shoulder to loosen his Vertraax sword. Drake could see him shaking with the effort of holding himself back. Not long now, Drake thought to the Beast. Not long . . .
“WHAT’S HE UP TO?” SEAN asked when the Healers checked in with him.
“He’s got K-12s in place along the building and Michael primed to go.” Worry laced Hannah’s voice. Sean noticed the tension in Lianndra’s face as she moved to be near the women.
The blond man nodded and clutched his old laser rifle closer to his chest. He crept to where the others worked on the bindings holding the rescued Healers together and gestured to James.
Sean whispered, “I’ll see if I can get a clear shot to help Drake out.”
James nodded. “Take Nate with you.”
“I’ll fly cover,” Hannah said.
As she jumped for the trees, Sean collected Nate and moved westward through the dense foliage. When Hannah dropped lower in the branches and pointed, he headed for the clearing’s edge.
Hannah found a prime spot. From here, Sean saw the front door of the commando quarters and the Fang unit on the west side. He couldn’t see Drake and Michael, so he scanned the buildings with an experienced eye to judge where they might be hiding.
He crouched with Nate in the undergrowth, taking aim with their ancient laser rifles. Through the rifle’s sights, Sean tracked the Fang commander as it strode across the clearing. He knew the idiosyncrasies of this old weapon and was confident he could hit the alien. He also knew Fang were difficult to kill with a single laser shot and the sound
would bring the reptilian soldiers boiling out of the building.
We’re good for backup only, Sean reminded himself as he gestured for Nate to hold. Finger on the trigger, he waited for Drake’ next move.
ON THE WEST SIDE OF the clearing, the Fang commander headed for the quarters. When the rebel captain heard a knock on the door, he pushed a button on the control module and counted backward from ten. When he got to two, he lobbed the remaining two K-12s. They spun through the air to land with soft thuds.
The sound caught the commander’s attention. He looked toward the grenades.
When the door opened, all the grenades detonated. The building’s back wall blew in and those on the ground exploded in the Fang’s faces.
The pressure wave threw the Fang into the clearing. Through the airborne dust, Drake made out the shapes of survivors pulling themselves from the rubble.
Drake never heard Michael leave his side. One second he was there and the next, gone.
The rebel captain drew his weapon and emerged, firing his laser. It hit the Fang commander squarely in the chest just as the big alien rose halfway to his feet. Blood masked the reptilian alien’s face and the laser easily penetrated the large shrapnel wound on his chest. It surprised Drake when a second shot took the Fang straight through one orange eye.
Sean. Drake recognized the marksmanship. Should’ve known he couldn’t leave me to it!
Standing exposed, the two Bernaf bodyguards appeared frozen in surprise as the grenades exploded. One took a sniper’s shot to the head and collapsed. The other vanished into the jungle, a flash of gray through the foliage.
Drake moved forward when the tortured screech of metal and a bestial roar announced Michael’s presence within the rubble of the quarters. A huge sheet of torn metal flew through the dust cloud and sliced into two surviving commandos, taking them out for good. Clear as a bell over the moment of stunned silence, Drake heard the distinctive sound of Michael drawing his oiled sword from its sheath.