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Relief swept through me as we rounded the building and came face to face with not one Condor, but three. I recognized Agent Simms as she shut down the aircraft’s engine and lifted her helmet. A broad smile covered her face when our eyes met. By now, everyone was on the lawn, including Dalton who was first to greet the woman—who stood exactly at his considerable height as she disembarked. Neri, Baxter and the Slates waited several feet back, as happy to see her as I was.
In a navy-blue Air Force jumpsuit, her short blond hair high and tight over her ears, Agent Holly Simms sauntered across the grounds, helmet tucked under one arm.
“I was able to scrounge up a few more transport pilots from DC,” yelled Agent Simms as she arched a brow at Dalton and was met with hugs from Neri and Baxter. She adjusted her voice down to normal as the other pilots shut down their aircraft. “It’s been an interesting couple of days, hasn’t it?” she said, her bright blue eyes sparkling.
“Glad you were able to outsmart Graves and his men,” said Dalton, a sincere expression of relief softening his hard-edged features.
“The day I can’t out-think that man, I’m hanging up my wings.” She bent to kiss each of the kids on the top of their heads as we crossed the grassy courtyard toward the barns, led by Colonel Harris and Mr. Cooper, who had arrived to greet the pilots and offer their hospitality.
Moments later, we were all once again sitting around a large table, this time in a cool underground bunker, the walls plastered with maps and aerial photos. Vanessa had taken Benjamin and Annie to help feed the goats, anxious to keep them out of earshot of serious discussion. Neri and Baxter, along with Garnet and Luke, had declined joining the meeting, choosing instead to go with Lita to pack provisions for the next part of the journey. From the looks of things, Garnet and Luke—her on-again-off-again boyfriend—needed some time alone. Garnet had some explaining to do regarding her stowing away on Josh’s truck and risking her life to save their younger brother, Tyler.
The Johnson boys had turned out to be a lot more complicated than either Garnet or I had thought. Tyler had seemingly grown up overnight, and Luke wore the expression of a devastated war victim. I guess we all carried that ghost in some way. But the emotions rolled off him like waves of tar—thick, hot, and heavy. Grief and sadness, along with a seething anger beneath it all. I hoped Garnet could handle whatever Luke had to say.
Unlike Josh and Tyler, sixteen-year-old Luke had no apparent special ability, and although he had often hidden behind his brother’s bullish stature, he had a mind of his own and a chip on his shoulder—qualities that drew Garnet like a moth to a flame. Luke was lean and wiry, handsome in his own way, and smart. Now, he appeared a wounded soldier, dirty and beaten, even as he stood straight shouldered, his jaw clenched.
Memories of Josh crashed in, reminding me that he was gone. The boy I’d feared. The boy I’d shared some crazy genetic connection with. The depth of Luke and Tyler’s loss beat against my weakened armor, and my heart ached for them. I forced my thoughts back to the present. Josh wouldn’t want me falling apart over his death. He’d want me to fight—to take down those responsible and help get the world back on track. He would want me to survive.
I pushed away thoughts of my friends and focused on the task at hand, settling into a chair in the dimly lit cave-like room, facing a large chalkboard with maps hanging on either side marked with a list of strategic locations, obviously Network strongholds.
After introductions were made, Agent Simms filled us in on her escape from Dalton’s safe house and how she’d made it to Washington, DC. Intel from underground chatter revealed that the old Capitol had been taken over by Network rebels who had used ancient tunnel systems to create an entire city beneath the rubble after everything was destroyed by rioting and fires back in the thirties. From aboveground, it didn’t appear anyone inhabited the overgrown concrete jungle, but beneath the destruction of the Washington monument and sprawling through miles of tunnel systems below the decaying White House, the resistance had taken root. Working by night, they’d created a whole city beneath the ground with small bands of scouts coming and going with provisions, weapons, and tech support from other cells.
“I had no idea—and I’m sure the President doesn’t either—” Agent Simms gave an admiring nod toward Dalton and then Sam. “—that the Network is so organized and well equipped.” She lifted her chin, acknowledging the two Air Force pilots, McNally and Fisher, who studied the maps with Colonel Harris and Mr. Perkins, all of them discussing advancement strategies.
Dalton piped in. “So, the DC contingent is already mobilizing?”
“According to your source on the ground there, a company of a few thousand men should be ready to hit Chicago in the next two days. The Network has activated outposts in Albany, Atlanta, and Philadelphia. Apparently, Malevich and his Assembly cronies don’t have as tight a grip as they thought.”
“Well, that’s good news for us,” said Rudy, who’d been sitting quietly off to one corner running a long knife blade across a leather strap, the snap-zing keeping an even cadence with the whir of the ventilation system.
“Yes, but here’s the bad news.” Agent Simms examined the map of Chicago and pointed to an area blocked out in red. “The old Navy Pier has been closed off to the public and is now the Assembly headquarters. The main building is where the President and her brother are likely being held and where Malevich will go to make a stand. He’ll be expecting the uprising, and with the city so heavily guarded and an air force of drones at his disposal, it will be near impossible to infiltrate his stronghold. The waterway is cut off by warships and the place will be crawling with Guardians.”
“I can show our people how to disarm them,” said Will, his tone hopeful.
“It’s too dangerous,” said Sam. “I’ve been working on a special project that might take care of the whole lot of them.” The gleam in Sam’s eye showed he had a lot of fight left in him and more than a few tricks up his sleeve. “I just need a day or so to put it together. It was one of the few things I was able to salvage from the wreckage of my lab.” The thought of the big barn behind our house, which Sam had used as a makeshift laboratory and workshop, being nothing more than a heap of smoldering rubble, made my stomach ache. I wondered about the hives and if the bees had survived. No point in looking back. I gritted my teeth and jumped in.
“I know exactly the right person to help you.” I thought of young Baxter, his skills, and his gift, certain he could aid in completing whatever electronics “project” Sam had going.
Agent Simms nodded approval. “We’ll need every advantage. Malevich will have the city on lock-down and will continue to use the President’s brother to ensure her cooperation.” I sensed the tension inside of Will rise as he swallowed hard. I forced my attention back to Agent Simms, whose expression had darkened. “Malevich will stop at nothing to control President Callahan. He needs her admission of guilt that it was she who led the country into what could easily turn into a civil war—if not a slaughter. You can be sure Malevich has been turning the people against the President, and with total control of the media, he’s probably also convinced them the Network is the enemy. Even if your intent is to free the people, you may have more of a fight on your hands than you think.”
Dalton and Sam exchanged a look, smiles creeping over both their faces. “I like our odds. How about you, Colonel?”
“Not like we haven’t been the underdogs before,” Sam replied. Dalton’s reference to Sam’s rank of Lieutenant Colonel reminded me they had a past together—one I would probably never know the details of. From Sam’s night terrors, I gathered he’d seen and survived some atrocities, but here he was, willing to go to war again for the cause of freedom. My heart swelled with pride while my insides twisted at the thought of the danger and destruction that was still to come.
Agent Simms’s voice commanded my attention. “I admire your confidence, gentlemen, but we need a solid plan. As it stands, Malevich is probably already in talks with the Assembly, trying to gather supporters. If he convinces ten out of twelve of the Assembly members that his plan is sound, and that President Callahan is at fault for the uprising, he’s won. Once he has the support of the Assembly, it shouldn’t be difficult to turn the people toward overthrowing and imprisoning the President. I wouldn’t be surprised if he tried to have her hung for treason. Once he’s in full power, there will be no stopping him.”
“All I know,” Will added, his tone more determined than ever, “is that rescuing my aunt and my dad is the key to this mission. Once the people know what Malevich has been doing, they’ll have to stand up to him.”
A look of admiration crossed Sam’s face and then he cleared his throat. “You better be right, son.”
