Chapter 11

Rockefeller met Colonel Marshall’s eyes, silently urging her to give him an actionable answer. He had to do something to help his daughter.

She laid her palms flat on the ping-pong table. “Nothing we do here will affect anything out there. Near as we can tell, even the Kemtewet don’t have any communication faster than their travel. We’ll have to wait for Major Patrick and her team to return with your daughter.”

Stokely recentered himself on his stool. “Actually, Andy, there is one thing.”

“What’s that?” The words barely left his lips when he finished tracing Stokely’s train of thought. “Funding. You want to fix things up around here.”

“Well, yes.”

Colonel Marshall folded her hands, prim and expectant. “More importantly, we want to improve our detection and tracking, train more pilots, and expand our tools for reverse-engineering the kaxan.”

“And that will prevent future raids?”

“It’ll go a long way.”

“Colonel!” A young officer burst into the room. “Colonel, Major Patrick’s team is back in comms range. They estimate five minutes to arrival.”

“Thank you, Sergeant. Please open the doors for them.”

“Do they have her?” Rockefeller knocked into the table’s corner as he rushed around it. “Did they say?”

The Sergeant hesitated in the doorway, eyes flicking to his superior as if to ask who they were talking about. “No, sir, they didn’t say much, but the communication’s still open. I need to—”

He motioned to the hall.

“Go,” the Colonel said.

He took off.

The Colonel held the door open for the rest of them. “It’ll be easier to sort out on the ground, but we can ask the Major while she taxis down.”

“Thank you, Colonel.” He rushed into the hall and realized he didn’t know where comms was.

Still rising from the table, Stokely waved them away. “I’ll catch up.”

Good. He couldn’t wait. Every second of waiting, even now, following the Colonel back into the hangar, let the questions rush back in. What if they were following the wrong lead? If not, what if the aliens had hurt her? He’d made sure all his girls got self-defense training (even Joyce), but what if Maggie using those skills had drawn additional retaliation from her captors?

He stepped on the Colonel’s heel, and she shot him a glare.

“Sorry.”

She led him into the saucer beside the one they’d toured earlier. As he finished climbing in, she stepped behind the control screen and pulled it up to a comfortable height for standing. “Major.”

“Colonel,” the screen answered.

He joined her behind it and found a woman’s face already displayed. Short, black hair framed her defined jawline and green eyes. Major Patrick, he assumed. Not what he expected. “Is Maggie with you?”

The woman on the screen frowned, and her eyes shifted away. “Who is that?”

“This is the Speaker of the House, Andrew Rockefeller. The raid took his daughter Maggie. Is she with you?”

The Major leaned out of camera view. “Is there a Maggie here? Maggie Rockefeller?”

Please. Just this one miracle.

Other voices came across fainter. “No.” “Oh, she was that girl who—” “—when I got there.” “Oh, her! Yes!”

Major Patrick’s voice again. “Did you see her get in a kaxan—in one of the vehicles?”

Silence.

Major Patrick settled back behind the control panel. “Some of the women here remember her, but she’s not with me.”

His heart stopped.

“She could be in with Fairfeld or Myers. We were pursued to the kaxan and left in a jumble.” She glanced elsewhere on her screen. “Looks like they’re touching down now.”

He traded glances with the Colonel, who turned back to the screen. “Thank you, Major. We’ll check.”

At the first syllable, he rushed to the porthole and slid through, dropping to the ground with a slap that stung his soles. She might be here—she had to be here, somewhere in this forest of flying saucer stilts. But where?

He stepped farther in.

Something flashed. A glint, framed in the wide-open hangar doors, disappeared behind the rows of parked saucers. Was that a gap nearby? He ran down the row to an aisle through the hangar’s center. The new arrival hovered over the grass, floating with unwavering precision. It shot into the hangar without seeming to accelerate, as if it had stepped up to its moderate velocity and stopped equally abruptly along the aisle. It extended its landing struts to the ground, precisely aligned with all the other spacecraft, and settled into place.

He ran down the aisle. Was that the last one or the first?

One of the other saucers had its hatch open and an Air Force officer already halfway down. He stepped aside, and Rockefeller held his breath. The first shoe down was a flat-soled sneaker good for long hours of standing. Not hers. A woman in a university sweatshirt stepped off the ladder to join the first.

The next foot was a winner.

Colorful athletic shoes stretched down from jeans to reach the first rung. Then the second. By the third, the girl’s hips came into view, and Rockefeller realized he’d been mistaken.

A college-aged girl hopped down.

Another uniformed woman and two other college students joined the growing crowd before the ship emptied, and he turned his attention to the one between it and the one he saw land. She had to be here somewhere.

Colonel Marshall stopped beside him to watch the second ship disgorge its passengers. A mother and daughter… A pastor…

Major Patrick dropped out of the third ship, and he tried to watch both saucers emptying. Maybe Patrick had overlooked Maggie sleeping in her own ship.

“What happened?” Colonel Marshall called to her.

The Major waited until she closed to answer. “The coordinates the General gave us were for a planet labeled, ‘Fifth Lord of Green Primary.’ We followed the onboard map to the lord’s palace, which was hosting some sort of big party. We walked right in, but the guards detained us. The General took us to the chamber with all the abductees and arranged our release, but he couldn’t keep them off us long enough. They recaptured several people.”

The last ship emptied, and his daughter hadn’t appeared. Rockefeller turned to the Major. “Was Maggie one of them?”

“I don’t—wait.” She closed her eyes and held a hand up an inch shorter than her head. “Is she about yay tall? Long, curly brown hair?”

“That’s her!”

“She was hanging around the girl the General tried to recruit.” She craned around them to scan the crowd. “Shit! They’re not here!”

“How could you not know?” Rockefeller grabbed her by the shoulders. “Where is she?”

“They’re still back there.” Patrick’s wide, round eyes turned to her CO. “Colonel, we’ve got to go back and get them.”

When Colonel Marshall didn’t answer immediately, he let go of Patrick and bore down on the new target. “You’re going to get her, right?”

She met his eyes and said nothing. A few yards away, Stokely and the first ship’s pilot addressed the rescued abductees, over where Maggie should have been standing.

Rockefeller crossed his arms.

“Major, what was supposed to happen to them next? Can you go back safely?”

“Yeah, the General’s got himself set up as head of security. Now we’ve got the lay of the land, we should be able to park closer, slip in, and get anyone who’s left.” She raked a hand through her hair. “We can’t not go back.”

The Colonel studied the gathered abductees. “Get some sleep before you head out.”

“No way, sir, we can get six more hours en route.” She turned and motioned to the two men in BDUs who had arrived with her. “We just need to reload before we go.”

Tossing a salute to the Colonel, Major Patrick took off into the hangar’s depths.

Colonel Marshall watched her and sighed.

Good, at least there was a ship heading his way. “I’m going with them.”

Her eyes latched onto his. “What?”

“I’m going with them to get my daughter back.”

“No.”

She and Stokely had kept him waiting all day, passing along assurances that her team would bring his daughter home. Empty promises for his empty heart. But she wouldn’t care. She didn’t care, or she’d have Patrick’s ass back on that ship posthaste.

He bit back impulsive screams. She’d obviously take his anger in stride, along with everything else. “You let me on that ship to bring my daughter home, and I’ll make sure you get the biggest plus-up in funding this project has ever seen.”

She stepped to him, toe to toe. “Are you bribing me, Mr. Speaker?”

“Do you think your team might not be good enough to bring her back?”

“I don’t think they need to babysit you while you try to go running off to her rescue.”

“They left her behind once. Maybe they need someone to hold their hands the second time.”

“Even if they did, you think you’d be that person? With no training, no discipline, and no relevant experience? You’re a liability.”

“And you’re a stone-hearted—”

“Nice to see you two getting along.” Stokely’s voice floated between them, and Rockefeller swallowed the rest of his insult before glancing away. Behind him, the abductees filed away, following the Sergeant out into the sea of saucers. “I told Bailey those women would probably be more comfortable in the old barracks until you figure out how to disposition them.”

Colonel Marshall backed off. “Thank you. That should be about right.”

“Women?” Rockefeller watched the last few turn out of sight.

“That’s right. We asked after the ones that got left behind, too—five, it turns out. They’re all women.”

That weight congealed in the pit of his stomach again. “Is that normal?”

“No.” Colonel Marshall’s fists clenched at her sides.

Did that mean they weren’t looking for just a body? “We can’t leave them there. We have to go back and get them!”

“No one’s disputing that.” Stokely paused to raise an eyebrow at Colonel Marshall then Rockefeller. “So what seems to be the problem here?”

“I’m going with them.” Rockefeller stared at the Colonel, who crossed her arms. Then he caught Stokely’s dropped jaw.

“Your place is here, Andy. You can’t help them out there.”

“You don’t know that!”

Stokely rested a hand on his shoulder. “Andy, your talents are best spent here on the ground, preventing the next raid. Let those who are trained for it deal with this one.”

He swiped Stokely’s hand off. “No one’s trained for aliens. She’s my daughter. I should go.”

Rockefeller stuck his hands in his pockets and forced them still. If he looked as desperate as he felt, they’d never let him leave with them. “Let me do this one thing, and I will make sure Black Book is fully funded to expand its capabilities.”

Stokely mirrored his relaxed facade, hooking his thumbs into his belt loops. “How are you going to fund it if something happens to you?”

“Your team brought back a dozen frightened women last time. Surely, I won’t be a liability,” he said, pointedly meeting Colonel Marshall’s glare, “while helping them with the last five.”

“And if a Kemtewet decides to possess you,” Stokely pressed, “while you’ve conveniently singled yourself out from the rest of the planet? We’ll be at even more of a disadvantage if they learn everything you know.”

“Then better me than her!” He hadn’t meant to shout. Oh, hell. “Charlie, that’s a risk I have to take! My baby girl is out there, fighting for her life somewhere she should never have known about, let alone been dragged to.

“Now, lecture me all you like about security risks and your other perfect-world ideals. In a perfect world, she’d be back-to-school shopping today, not abandoned on an alien planet by the very people sent to rescue her.

“I’m her daddy, and I’m going to bring her home. If you try to stop me, I will have this project ended and replaced so quick, your hats won’t hit the ground before the next commander picks them up!”

“You don’t have the authority!” Colonel Marshall shouted.

“Watch me!”

He’d found all sorts of ways to do what others labeled impossible. For this, he’d pull all the stops. The right connections already started popping into his mind.

Stokely cleared his throat and nudged her arm. “Colonel, a word?”

He eyed Rockefeller as he led her a few steps away. Rockefeller turned, too, as if he didn’t intend to overhear his old mentor’s every word.

“He’s bluffing,” Colonel Marshall objected.

“He’s not bluffing. He only bluffs when he’s thinking clearly, when he’s not tied up in the situation.” He did? “You, my dear, could not have pushed his buttons any more precisely.”

Not with his daughter’s safety involved, no.

“He means it. Don’t give me that look. You and I both know if Black Book lost you, they’d be set back twenty years.” Rockefeller glanced back to see Stokely put a hand on the Colonel’s shoulder. “But if Black Book lost everyone else, too? The project would never recover. It’d be the end of the line for all the careers here, but more importantly, the country would lose its only shot at protecting itself.”

And his other daughters. With as hard as it was to believe it, Rockefeller could see how new personnel might not take it seriously. He recalled the little green men on the pinball machine and revised that thought—they might take it even less seriously.

But in his heart of hearts, he still meant it. He’d open hell to avenge her.

“The Air Force conducts itself with professionalism.” Colonel Marshall sounded like she was assuring herself more than reminding Stokely. “The project would survive.”

“And what if he declassified it and handed it to NASA? Can you imagine what would happen if people found out?”

“Yes,” she squeaked.

So what if they’d demand the government take seriously its duty to protect its people? What did an honest project have to fear?

“On the other hand, you’ve got him all fired up. If you let him go now, if you take this chance, you will have his gratitude, and that’s a powerful thing. He’ll never forget. He’s the Speaker now. He can effect changes I never could, and he’s still young. What do you think he’ll be able to do for the project throughout the rest of his career?

“Once you let him go off world, get his daughter, see what we’re up against? What could happen?”

Rockefeller swallowed. That wasn’t the promise he’d meant to make. He just wanted his little girl back. The rest could wait for later.

Even if that later included the support Stokley implied.

“This is wrong.”

He glanced over to catch her shaking her head.

“Finding out I let the Speaker of the House get himself killed will end the project even faster than making him stay.”

“I’ll indemnify you!” Rockefeller approached them. “Please. I have to go.”

Sympathy flashed in the Colonel’s eyes before she caught herself and snuffed it out.

Stokely regarded him, eyebrows raised. “Call Joyce. Tell her we all said it’s a bad idea. There’s a phone in the Colonel’s office.”

Rockefeller nodded and took off. He barely heard what they said next.

“You played us.”

“It’s for your own good.”

So what? Stokely had backed him up. It worked. One more thing, and he could ride off to his daughter’s rescue.

Hang on, Maggie. I’m coming.

“What was that?” Sarah watched as Maggie swiped her arm through the empty space where Mr. Marshall had been, where he’d disappeared in a shining cloud with a faint whir and rapid clicks.

“Something’s wrong.” Not only had Mr. Marshall killed someone who was helping them—a sign he was lying about trying to help her—but now he was rushing to do something behind the backs of all the other men.

Whose side was he on?

The saucer room disappeared in a gray tunnel, and she and Maggie stood back in the tiled room. The men descended again. Screaming through burning lungs, she reached for Maggie, but the goon pulled her away, picked her up, and started walking up stairs leading out of the room.

“Maggie!” Sarah shouted.

Behind her, the guards picked Maggie up, too, and carried her back toward the stone room.

She tried biting the goon’s ear, but he bounced her farther back over his shoulder, straining the arm he held and making the blood rush to her head.

Oh, God! What now? They were taking Maggie back and her somewhere else now. Was this it—implantation?

That was why Mr. Marshall was rushing.

He wasn’t ready.

They were going to put the wrong alien in her!

“No! Put me down! Let me go!” She screeched so loud, it hurt her own ears.

He climbed faster.

The stairs ended in a dim, narrow hallway. Silver embossed walls passed by her nose, dancing with the mocking reflections of firelight. The patterns swam in her vision, rippling like the surface of water. Her journey across the Styx River, ending when she reached Hell on the other side?

Swinging her legs, she broke one out of his grip but couldn’t angle it right to kick him.

He opened a door, and she flailed harder. She wouldn’t go! But he slid her off his shoulder anyway and held her with one arm across her chest and arms, the other hand clutching her ponytail.

He pointed her at a headless mannequin in a floor-length silver dress by the back wall, eclipsed in their flickering shadows from the hall’s dim lamps.

“Putz dich heraus!” He shoved her forward and closed the door.

A spotlight clicked on, illuminating the sparkling mannequin as if with a neon sign that read, “Put this on!”

Sarah retreated to the corner, drew her knees up, and cried.