“I will.”
Then it’s Dad’s turn to embrace me. “Don’t give yourself up for us again.”
“Then don’t get captured and I won’t.” I get a set of parental scowls. “What? It seems pretty straightforward to me.”
“Go, before we ground you,” Dad says.
I laugh then run into the base. My thoughts turn to the mission. It would have been nice to have a few extra days for Niall, Rance, and Zaim to recover. Instead, we’ll have to rely on barely trained techs.
At least I have some time to swing by the empty cafeteria and grab a few snacks. It might be a while before my next real meal. Then I report to my “position.”
It’s one of the hidden areas in the base that aren’t on the map. What Officer Morgan called my hidey holes. In fact, it’s my favorite one that I used the most when I was a kid and hiding from my parents.
The hidden space is the size of a coffin and only accessible by an oversized duct that cuts across the chemistry lab. When I was younger, I’d access the duct from a storeroom next to the lab. But today, I use a conveniently placed table in the lab that is right underneath one of the grates into that duct. Getting in the duct is both harder and easier—harder because I’m bigger, easier because I’m stronger.
Once I reach the space, I wiggle into a comfortable position, lying on my left side. I fit better a few years ago. Shafts of artificial light cut through the grate which is about a meter away. It reflects off the shining metal walls, giving my hiding place a nice glow.
I know what you’re thinking. If I’m caught here, I’ve no place to run. Well, if I’m caught anywhere, I’m done, so this is better than being in my bedroom, which would be the first place Jarren will check.
Waiting for the action to begin is torture. After eating half my snacks, I try to empty my mind and calm my racing emotions. A few hours of sleep would help as well. But the reality is me swatting at my thoughts as they buzz and swarm around my head.
The roar of the shuttles’ engines over the base breaks the quiet. At least we don’t have to worry about a sneak attack. I steady my nerves and access the Q-net. Jarren worms into the controls for the base’s port. The retractable roof opens to allow a shuttle in. The port isn’t big enough for all four, so one lands, deposits looters, and takes off. It doesn’t take them long to unload about forty-eight people. The last shuttle remains in the port.
I pull up a map of the base and red dots fill the area representing the port. Each dot a looter. Worming into the camera feeds, I bring up the images from the port and scan the invaders. They’re wearing gray form-fitting jumpsuits. Probably stolen from DES security, which means they can’t be knocked out with a pulse gun unless the gun is aimed at their heads. They’re checking behind all the equipment, probably looking for an ambush. Each wears a belt with a weapon holstered on one side—they didn’t come to talk—and a flashlight on the other.
They’re wearing jumpsuits. They have energy wave guns and flashlights, I message my team, sending it to their portables. I’m the only one who is connected to the Q-net.
I keep searching. Come on. Come on. You have to be here. No way Jarren would remain behind when there’s an opportunity to gloat. There! I spot Jarren and one of the red dots turns to yellow. The perfect color for a yellow-bellied coward. I’m not sure where yellow-bellied comes from, but Beau said it’s appropriate.
Jarren looks the same. His long brown hair is tied back into a low ponytail. He trimmed his beard and his light brown eyes shine with anticipation. The murdering looter in all his glory. His belt has two weapons and a flashlight. My stomach clenches as I recognize the kill zapper. The weapon that spits purple fire and killed Officer Menz and me.
Yellow belly has two weapons—EW and KZ, I send.
Sending the map to the rest of the team, I message that it’s go time even though I have a communicator—that’s for emergencies only. Because Jarren could worm into them just like I’m about to do to his. One. Two. Three.
“…the door,” Jarren orders.
“It’s locked,” a man says.
“Not for long, but first...” Jarren goes over to a terminal. “Let’s get all the shades on base open, letting in the sunlight.” He worms into the maintenance programs.
A mechanical whirr sounds below me as the shades in the chem lab retract. The light in the duct brightens. Ah. He’s worried about the shadow-blobs, which proves he can see them and also explains attacking us when the sun is high in the sky—fourteen hundred hours. It’s not going to be as bright as they think, since the maintenance crew covered the shattered windows with boards until new glass could be installed.
In the port, Jarren returns to the door into the rest of the base and keys in the override code.
Oh my stars. I send another message. Jarren has override code!
The door unlocks. He steps back and says, “Alpha and Beta teams take security and free our people from detention. Delta team sweep the labs. Epsilon team the housing units. My team with me to the Control Center. Watch for hostiles both alien and human.”
We’re right, Jarren’s people can see HoLFs, I send.
The red dots burst out of the port and scatter in different directions like ants searching for food. A few remain behind to guard the shuttle. I switch to the cameras in the corridors. Looters run through the empty hallways with weapons drawn. Watching them reminds me of when I came here with the security team to check for intruders before the rest of the scientists shuttled down from the Big Fat Frog.
Delta team bursts into the biology lab as Alpha and Beta reach security. I wait. After a couple of minutes it starts.
“Delta team commander to Boss.”
Boss. Jarren has such an ego.
“Go ahead, Delta,” Jarren says.
“There’s no one in the bio lab, sir.”
“Follow the plan and check all the labs, Delta.”
“Yes, sir.”
All is quiet for a while.
“Alpha team commander to Boss.”
“Go ahead, Alpha,” Jarren says. He’s almost to the stairwell to the archeology lab. There are twelve looters with him.
“Security is a ghost town, sir.”
“Did you check detention?”
“Yes, sir. No one there.”
Jarren curses. Then he sees the floodlights and stops. “They’re battery powered. Smart.”
“Can you repeat that, sir?”
“They obviously evacuated, Alpha. They’re probably hiding in the Warrior pits.”
“What about the hostile aliens, sir?”
“Not those pits, Alpha. There are sixty others.” Jarren sighs. “Boss to all team leaders, clear the base and ensure no one is here. I’m continuing on to the Control Center. Once I’m there I can find out where they’re all hiding.”
I grin. You can try. I wait until the red dots are spread out all over the base and Jarren’s in the Control Center.
Show time, I message my team.
Worming into the maintenance programs, I close all the blinds. Then I turn off all the lights. My hidey hole is dark, but I don’t need light to access the Q-net. I close the ceiling in the port.
Jarren’s team leaders call in right away. All are very concerned.
“Wait for orders,” Jarren says, turning on his flashlight. The others with him do the same. He sends two of his men to check on the floodlights and report back. Then he sits at my dad’s terminal. Too bad for him, Dad disabled it. So fun to see Jarren punch the screen in frustration.
I check the port. There’s enough light from the flashlights to see Ho and Bendix sneaking out from the hidden room near the port’s exit. Elese and Beau were harnessed to the ceiling, but now they drop down on ropes. The four of them quickly disable Jarren’s crew that was left behind. Boo yah!
The two men Jarren sent to check the lights reach the stairwell. The floodlights are off and they shine their flashlights at the stairwell as if that will protect them.
“Conner to B
oss,” one says, backing away.
“Go ahead, Conner,” Jarren says.
“The floodlights are out.”
“Return to the Control Center, now.”
Too bad they’re not fast enough. Radcliff and Morgan emerge from the stairwell and shoot them in the head with their pulse guns. They drop to the ground. Morgan has a squeeze bottle full of fake blood and she uses it to make the unconscious men appear as if they had an unfortunate encounter with the HoLFs. Radcliff and Morgan retreat.
Cuing the shadow-blobs, I send. I switch on the projectors in twenty key locations in the base. The reaction is instant as the looters in those areas get a nasty surprise.
“Hostiles in security!”
“Hostiles in the cafeteria!”
“Hostiles near the housing units!”
“We’re under attack in the geology lab!”
Under attack? They must have a good imagination. All the projectors are doing is casting static images of the shadow-blobs. But it is dark and creepy in the empty base.
“It’s a trap!” Jarren yells. “Everyone retreat to the port. Now.” He runs for the door. “Boss to Flyboys. Come in, Flyboys.”
Oh no. No calling for help. I block his communications. Sorry, not sorry. As I watch all the little red dots head toward the port, I take a moment to admire Radcliff’s amazing plan.
You see, he reported to DES that the wave emitters were an utter failure and we needed a new way to counter the shadow-blobs. So Jarren’s people are in panic mode, racing for escape. Except when those red dots reach the port and squeeze through the small door, there are four security officers waiting for them. And they can’t retreat because the rest of the security team, the techs, my parents, and I will all emerge from our hidey holes and pick them off from this side. Radcliff’s a devious genius.
I wait until all the dots are past my position, then I ease from my hiding place. Ugh, my muscles are stiff from the hours I’ve spent here. And my various injuries protest the motion. Guess I need to take a couple more pain meds.
I remove the grate and climb down to the table. The lab is semi-dark so I pull my flashlight and creep toward the door. The cameras show the corridors are shafts of blackness except where the looters are fleeing. The beams of their flashlights dance as they run. One of the best things about being a Q-net freak, I can access it anywhere. Like when I slip out into the hallway and know the exact location of the red dots.
Turning on my flashlight, I start toward the port. Then something grabs my braid and yanks me back.
“Ow, what the—”
A hard round coldness presses to my temple. A weapon. I freeze as all my blood drains to my feet.
“Hello, Little Worm,” Jarren says right in my ear.
He removes the communicator from my other ear. It clinks as it hits the floor, then crunches as he smashes it with his boot. My pulse gun is taken next.
I swallow. Why didn’t I keep track of the yellow dot? I check, but it’s not on my map. That’s because Jarren turned his flashlight off and the Q-net could no longer track him.
“Nice trick,” he says. “Almost had me fooled. I was halfway to the port when I realized that Officer Tight Pants would never kill so many people. Good guys don’t unless there’s no other way. It didn’t take me long to figure out that other way. Was this your plan?”
Help, I message, hoping that someone on my team is paying attention to their portable despite being very busy and preoccupied with shooting lots of looters. Jarren caught me. We’re outside the chem lab. “No. Officer Radcliff gets all the credit.” My voice squeaks.
He snorts in derision. “I wouldn’t say all. You provided all the worming needed to execute the plan, and to find me on Yulin, and to alert him about the missile, and to tip him off about this attack, and to keep me from communicating with my people.” His hold on my braid tightens and the barrel of the weapon digs in harder. Pain spreads along my scalp and forehead as fear’s icy tendrils snake around my heart.
“How did you find me?” I ask, hoping to delay him.
“You shouldn’t have picked your favorite hiding place, Little Worm.”
He remembered.
“Come on.” He grabs my arm and drags me back into the chemistry lab, pushing me in front of him.
I stumble, turn around, and stop. Jarren has the energy wave gun leveled at me. Pure panic sweeps through me as my heart decides to tunnel its way out of my body through my stomach.
“You know what this can do?” he asks.
“Yes.” The energy from the weapon can pulverize all the bones in my body. Death would be instant. I hope.
“Don’t try anything or this time I’ll make sure you stay dead before I leave.” He aims over my shoulder.
I duck as the windows and blinds behind me shatter. Shards pelt my back. Again with the glass. Good thing I’m wearing my jumpsuit.
“Out the window,” Jarren orders. “Now!”
Going outside the base through the chem lab, I message. I crunch over the debris and climb over the sharp shards still clinging to the window frame. Then I hop down onto the sand. Jarren thumps next to me.
“This way.” He grabs my wrist and tows me along the outer wall of the base.
I’m not sure where we’re going until we reach the end. Three shuttles sit in the sand like giant beetles. He tugs me toward the closest one.
Oh no. If we fly away, I’ll never see my parents and Niall again. I glance back. Two sets of footprints trail behind us. No one is in sight.
Heading toward a shuttle on the west side of the base, I message. Follow tracks. This is probably an exercise in futility, but denial is a survival instinct. Right?
We reach the shuttle. Jarren keys in a code: seven, two, five, one. The door opens, slowly settling on the sand. He pushes me up the steps. The pilot is standing in the aisle, aiming her weapon at us, but she lowers it when she recognizes Jarren.
“What happened?”
“Walked into a trap. Get this bird in the air and tell the others to take off. We’re going back to our base.”
The woman hesitates. “What about—”
“They’re caught and we will be soon if you don’t—”
“On it.” She hurries into the cockpit.
Jarren pushes me down into a seat right behind the pilot’s seat. “Buckle in,” he orders.
In the shuttle, I message. Code seven, two, five, one. I pull the straps over my shoulders and hips, snapping in the five-point harness. Jarren pulls a thick plastic ring from his pocket. Then he grabs my forearm and puts it on the armrest. Before I can move, he clamps my wrist to the seat with the plastic ring—it must have a hinge. Then he does the same thing for my left arm. Between the buckles and the rings, I’m effectively secured. When the shuttle’s engine roars to life, breathing becomes difficult and tears threaten to leak.
He crouches so he’s at my level. “This is so you don’t run off again.”
“Why take me?” I’m physically unable to say, why not just kill me out loud.
“I could have sent another missile after I destroyed the satellite—we have plenty of weapons—but I just couldn’t.” He peers at me as if I’m a strange creature he can’t quite figure out. “I had to come get you. My ghost in the Q-net who has been giving me such trouble.”
“Ghost?”
“Yes, layering in extra security, fixing the camera and satellite feeds, getting through my blockade all without making a ripple. Drove me crazy trying to figure out who was ghosting through my programs.”
“How did you figure it out?”
His derision is clear. “Do you really have to ask?”
“DES.”
“Inept DES. They clued me in and then it didn’t take me long to find you in the Q-net.” Jarren gives me a patronizing smile. “I’m very curious how you managed to get past my defenses. And how Officer Tight Pants took care of the hostile aliens. And lots of other questions.”
“You’re a murdering looter. I’m not go
ing to tell you anything.” My words are brave, but inside I’m terrified.
“Yes, you are. And do you want to know why?”
This sounds bad. Do I? Not really.
“I’ve lots of cool toys to play with, including this pretty pink liquid. Once it’s injected into the bloodstream, the person just can’t stop talking.”
Not good. Not good at all. “Where did you get all this stuff?” I ask. Perhaps he’ll be too busy talking to me to order the pilot to take off.
“I’ve partners in crime, Little Worm. Very rich and well connected partners who get me anything I need.”
“Incoming,” the pilot says. “Three dune buggies.”
My rescue!
Jarren whips around. Standing, he goes to the front window. I crane my neck, trying to peer around Jarren. Who’s here? Radcliff? Morgan? Bendix? Jarren shifts slightly as he taps on a few of the controls.
When I spot the drivers of the buggies, it’s too much drama for my heart. It gives up and cowers in my chest. Niall, Zaim, and Rance are in the buggies. Somehow, they’ve been monitoring my messages. And instead of recruiting others to come to my rescue, they decided to save me. Three people who are recovering from severe injuries.
Of course Jarren doesn’t know that. My survival might depend on their poker faces.
“They’re sending us an ultimatum,” Jarren says to the pilot.
“Already?” she asks. “No trading insults first?”
“I know. Rookies.” He tsks. “They say if we don’t release our prisoner, they’ll damage our engines so we can’t escape. But if we let her go, they’ll allow us to leave.”
“Nice of them,” she says. “Do you want to tell them about our extra armaments or should I just blow them to pieces?”
Fear spikes through me. I need to do something to stop Jarren. Then it hits me and I’d slap my forehead if I could. The Q-net. But can I worm into the shuttle’s programming? Shuttles and space ships have high level protections for just this very reason.
“While I’m tempted to gloat,” Jarren says, “I suspect they’re trying to delay us, which means more of them are on the way.”
I shove the doubts aside and concentrate. The barriers around the controls for flying the shuttle are impenetrable. Maybe if I go into the program for the weapons. The defenses are thick and complex.
Chasing the Shadows (Sentinels of the Galaxy Book 2) Page 29