It took a day for Derrick’s and Reaper’s people to finally reach the caves that housed a holding area of sorts for Edens in the process of getting out of the United States.
Reaper was surprised and amazed by the vast size of the stone caverns. ATVs and other vehicles were parked near the entrance. Large tents stood around the edges, rows of cots inside. Lights descended from wires that crisscrossed the room, casting harsh shadows on blankets hung over doorways and entrances to adjacent caves. The steady hum of generators could be heard, an ever-present background.
“Kind of catches you by surprise, doesn’t it?” asked Big Jim, smiling at her from a chair nearby. “Lived in these parts most all my life and had no idea this even existed. Heck, no one did, as far as we know.”
Tired, haunted eyes looked out at her from various parts of the vast room. Some people were engaged in mundane activities, but most just sat and watched the world around them, not even animated enough to be curious. “What’s with all the people?”
“Edens,” Big Jim answered. “This is one of the main holding areas on the Eden Railroad. They wait here until we can arrange to get them out of the country.”
“They look so...”
“Dead?”
“I was going to say apathetic.”
“Most been terrorized and tormented. Many came near starving. This is a place where they can recover in peace and safety. Where we can feed them and comfort them. I tell ’em to have faith. The Eden virus is a miraculous thing. Given time, their minds and spirits will recover.”
Reaper felt the bleakness radiating from the people, the worry, the edge of despair. “I doubt they see it as a miracle now.”
“Owen does.”
“Jimmy didn’t.”
“God rest his soul, that warn’t your fault.”
“I know.” Her eyes roamed. “Where do they come from?”
“All over, really. We have agents in most of the major cities, watching for Edens. Some made it out of the camps. Even so, they ain’t many. Most of the Edens get caught and...”
“…die in places like Camp Pleasant. I know. I’ve raided some camps, gotten some people out. Never enough.”
“I’d love to hear about it when we got some time. I hear you’re gonna open a can of whup-ass on them damn Unionists.”
“We’ll do the best we can.”
“Lord willing and the crick don’t rise.”
“Excuse me,” said Hawkeye, walking up to Reaper with a concerned look. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”
“Sure,” she said, following him to an edge of the room. “What’s going on?”
“Maybe you ought to ask them.” Hawkeye pointed at Spooky and Derrick, talking.
“I’m guessing they’re working out our next moves right now.”
“Yeah, me too, but I suspect it’s the wrong mission.”
“What do you mean?”
Hawkeye lowered his voice and leaned in toward her. “This is a covert operation. We just got strafed by a bunch of drones. They know we’re here. This mission is compromised.”
“You think it’s time to extract.”
“Yeah.”
Reaper said, “They don’t necessarily know we’re here. All they know is they saw a group of ATVs in the wilderness.”
“And fired on it without provocation. That proves they believe we’re enemies. They must have extrapolated our line of march and know where we’re going.”
Reaper rubbed her face as if to scrub off hard truths. “I don’t disagree. But what about all the Edens in Camp Pleasant?”
“They’ll be no worse off than they are now,” said Hawkeye. “Us getting killed doesn’t do them any good.”
Reaper glared at him. “Do you hear yourself?”
“Look, I’m not some heartless bastard. I’m not a coward either, but this isn’t about either of those things. This is about making smart decisions, regardless of emotion. This is about making the tough call.”
“You sure it’s not about your voodoo premonition?”
“That, too.”
“So I’m supposed to let hundreds of human beings continue to suffer horribly?”
“Yes. When it makes no sense to go on.”
“You know, these caves have amazing acoustics,” said Big Jim as he approached the two. “If you have a mind to, you can hear people talk from clear across the room.”
“Nice of you to tell us,” said Hawkeye.
“How much did you hear?” asked Reaper.
“Pert’ near all.”
“And?”
“It’s all a bunch of horseshit,” he said.
“You wouldn’t understand,” said Hawkeye. “This is a professional military operation.”
“Professional,” said Big Jim with a laugh, his voice rising. “Professional what? Shirkers? You all sure went to a hell of a lot of trouble to get here, just to run off at the first sign of trouble.”
“Problem?” asked Derrick, Spooky close behind him.
Big Jim pointed at Hawkeye. “This one here is tryin’ to talk Miss Jill into cuttin’ and runnin’.”
“Is that true?” asked Spooky.
“Hell, yeah,” answered Hawkeye, glaring.
“You drop in on us, call the heat down on us and woops, time to go?” said Derrick.
Reaper held up her hand. “Everyone chill out. Hawkeye has a point. We’re a covert action team, not a company of paratroopers. Our SOP is, if we’re blown, we abort.” She pointed at Spooky. “Your procedures too.”
“We’re not leaving,” said Spooky softly.
“We might be,” said Reaper. “Since the gang’s all here, let’s talk it through. This is no longer a surgical operation. They’re going to be on high alert, even if they’re not sure where and when we’re going to hit them. We don’t have enough firepower and people. Even if we pull this off, casualties might be heavy.” Reaper noticed more and more people – her team, Derrick’s team and a few civilians – were gathering around to listen.
“Good thing we heal fast,” said Big Jim.
Hawkeye spoke. “We’re not superheroes and we’re not immune to capture. All of us have information that could cause grave damage to the FC.”
“Then don’t get captured,” said Spooky. “Not alive, anyway.”
“Do you hear what you’re saying?” asked Hawkeye. “We’re not suicide troops.”
Reaper said, “No, we’re not. And Hawkeye has a point. We can’t just throw ourselves at the walls of Troy. I won’t approve anything that doesn’t have a reasonable chance of success, and that includes the extraction.”
Silence hung in the air.
“Let’s say we do this,” said Tarzan. “What will we do with all those Edens?”
“Let us worry about that,” said Derrick.
“We should be happy to have that problem,” said Bunny. “My question is, how do we breach a heavily fortified encampment and get Spooky’s people out?”
“If we can’t come up with overwhelming force,” – here Spooky glanced at Derrick – “We need updated intel to find a weakness in their defenses.”
“I got the drone brain,” said Shortfuse. “Livewire thinks he can use it to hack into their video network.”
“Good,” said Spooky. “That’s a start, but overhead imagery isn’t enough. We need eyes on target. Eyes we can control.” He looked at Reaper.
“We can observe from the hills around the camp. Someone could slip in close using a thermal suit. I nominate you and your ninja skills, Spooky.”
Spooky gave her a wintry smile.
“Too bad we don’t have someone on the inside,” said Flyboy.
Derrick flicked his eyes at Spooky.
“You have someone on the inside?” asked Reaper.
“I have a source.”
“Who is it?” asked Buzz from the rear of the group.
Everyone stared at Buzz.
“Hey, just askin’.”
Reaper turned to Hawkeye, raising an eyebrow.
Hawkeye nodded. “It’s a start. If we don’t like what we see, we can abort.”
“That’s right,” said Big Jim. “Plenty of time to save your own ass.”
Hawkeye turned his face to Big Jim. “You need to watch your mouth, cabrón.”
“Enough!” snapped Reaper. “Everyone get ready. We’ll move out at sunset. Plan to be in position by dawn. We’ll recon, then decide.”
The team members dispersed. Derrick motioned for Big Jim. Reaper watched their tense discussion.
“Civilians,” Spooky said.
“Don’t play dumb. If your family wasn’t down there we would have aborted long ago.”
Spooky stared at her overlong. “Yes. I would have aborted, but not for the reason you might think.”
“And what reason is that?”
“My own,” he answered.
“Your own reason may get you killed,” Reaper said, staring right back.
“I am not afraid to die.”
“Red herrings. Game playing. What the hell are you really up to, Spooky?”
“The same as always. Helping my friends, hurting my enemies.”
Reaper held her tongue.