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“What are you talking about?” My voice had lowered to a harsh whisper to match Tyler’s.
“I’ve been in communication with Zeph. He said that Malevich...”
“Wait! You spoke to Zeph? How...?”
“I didn’t say I spoke to him.” Impatiently, Tyler explained how he and Zeph had learned to communicate telepathically while sharing a room at Industry headquarters. “At least in one direction,” Tyler clarified. “I’ve been practicing with long distance connections, but it’s not like I can read anybody’s mind anywhere.”
“Can Zeph read your mind too?” My brother had never given any indication he could communicate telepathically, although his intuitive sense was often spot on.
“No, not so far anyway. He can sense me though...it’s hard to explain.”
“I get it. Go on.” Since Neri and I had a similar bond, I understood what he was trying to convey.
“It only happens when he focuses his thoughts on me—intention has to be there, and I have to be tuned in at the same time. As far as I know, he hasn’t been able to read me. It doesn’t stop him from talking at me all the time, though, and filling my head with his weird thoughts.” Tyler snorted and shrugged as if this was the most normal conversation in the world. I didn’t want to ask what weird thoughts he was talking about.
“So what message did he relay about Malevich?
“I’m trying to tell you,” he said, exasperated. “Malevich has stepped up his timetable. He’s planning on taking off before dawn for the Space Station where the Mars Cruiser is waiting. Zeph says he’s already gathering together Doctor Bartholomew and all the EVO kids he plans to bring with him.”
“I bet Zeph is at the top of his list.” A cold knot formed in my stomach. “Did he say anything about the President and Will’s dad?”
“He heard one of the guards talking about how he was keeping them around as hostages in case the rebels tried to infiltrate Industry headquarters. He’s also got some big catastrophic event planned that’s supposed to stop us, but Zeph doesn’t know what it is.”
“Have you told anyone else this?”
“No. The message just came through over dinner. I almost choked on a meatball.” Tyler shook his head. “I’m not sure who to trust. After what happened in Gettysburg, my dad didn’t seem like the best option and well...you know what your uncle will do. He already made me and Luke stay behind during the raid on the Capitol building at Navy Pier. I wanted to come and help you, but...” Tyler looked away.
I laid a hand on his shoulder. “I know you would have been there if you could have been. I think it’s best you stayed behind. You’ve done enough.”
“It’ll never be enough.” He looked back through the big double doors, his vision in line with his father, who was on the other side of the room talking with a group of men and clapping Luke on the back. “I think my dad blames me for Josh’s death.”
“Why would he?”
“If I hadn’t gone with Zeph in the first place, Josh wouldn’t have had to come after me,” he said quietly, his face a mask of sadness and regret. “He’d still be here.”
I squeezed his shoulder again. “You can’t blame yourself, Ty. You had no choice in going along with Industry agents any more than Zeph did. They were threatening all of us. If your dad knew even half of the brave things you’ve done these past weeks and months, he would have no choice but to be proud of you. What you’ve done would make any man proud enough to bust.”
Tyler allowed a half smile. “You always know how to make me feel better.” Then his expression sobered again. “I’m not being left out of this mission. I can help. If I can get close enough to Malevich, I can read his mind, figure out his plans and we can stay one step ahead of him. You need to get me to Vegas.”
I nodded and gave him a grim smile, uncertain anything was within my control. “Let’s go talk to Sam and Will.”
∞∞∞
After explaining Tyler’s message from Zeph to Will and Sam privately, Sam called the leaders of the Network sectors together. Before leaving the ballroom, he’d given a rousing and heartfelt speech to the crowd. Paying respects to all of the fallen, including our good friend Rudy Sinclair. His words fell upon a hushed audience.
“Rudy died fighting not only for the freedom of the people, but for the debt owed him for the loss of his family. Now he’s gone to join them, and his service to this cause will not be forgotten.”
The crowd solemnly drank to their lost friends and loved ones and slowly dispersed, vowing to reengage the enemy the following day until every city and town across the country was freed from the tyranny of Industry control and the Guardians who mercilessly doled out punishment to anyone who stepped out of line. Now that Sam had developed a weapon to disable the monsters permanently, the people buzzed with hope and questions about what came next.
Sam, Will and I, along with Nora and Maia—who insisted on being included in the planning of the mission—met with General McAlister and Colonel Harris. Both military leaders frowned upon my and Will’s involvement, but it was decided that a tracker and a healer might come in handy, especially since I had the blueprints of both buildings memorized. Since we’d both proven our worth in infiltrating Industry headquarters not once but, in Will’s case, twice, they were willing to make the exception. Despite Tyler’s sound argument that his mind reading ability would be an asset, Sam came down with a firm refusal on the basis that the Johnson family had already sacrificed enough. To my relief and Tyler’s disappointment, he and his father, and his brother Luke would be left out of the mission altogether.
General McAlister nodded to Sam. “Once we’re in Vegas and everyone’s in place, Commander Dalton and Agent Simms plan to land on the helipad outside of Malevich’s penthouse. If he’s still there, they’ll covertly infiltrate and take him out. The President and her brother are likely being held close by. There’s also a chance they’ve been imprisoned in the underground lab facility.”
“That’s where our team comes in.” Sam shot a glance at Will and me. “Since you kids know the way in through the tunnel system, we’ll take a small detail with us and free anyone being held against their will. Our mission will be to recover not only the prisoners, but also the doctor in charge and his research. We don’t want all of your mother’s hard work lost, and we can’t leave it for others to take over where Malevich left off.” Sam set a hard gaze on me, the creases between his brows deepening. “Are you sure you’re up for this?”
I nodded, ignoring the stitch in my side. “I’ve never been more ready for anything in my life.” Will nodded agreement and Nora gave me a reassuring smile.
“Just make sure you drink plenty of water. And take these.” She handed me a small wrapped package I recognized as her special blend of protein and omegas. Filled with nuts, seeds, and honey, the treats were set in a base of nut butter—highly nutrient dense and fortifying for my healing process. I sent her a grateful smile and turned back to Sam before tears could form. He was holding out a stunner.
“I know how you feel about weapons, but you’re not going in unarmed. I’ve set it to stun, so feel free to use it on anyone who stands in your way.” Then he handed another to Will. “And just in case you need to go old school,” Sam added, “take this as well.” Sam handed him a .45 caliber Smith and Wesson semi-auto that I recognized from his arsenal at home. He was particularly fond of the old 1911—a gift from his father—my grandfather. Passing several full magazines across to Will, he asked as an afterthought. “You do know how to handle one of these, don’t you?”
“There isn’t a weapon around I can’t handle—or figure out if I have to.”
The two exchanged a brief nod of acknowledgement and my stomach clenched. Determined to ignore my immediate repulsion at the thought of Will blasting holes through people, I took the stunner and tucked it into the built-in holster at the back of the military issue pants, which had pockets everywhere. I stowed my snack for later, slipped a small canteen of water into the leg pocket, and stashed the switchblade Sam had just handed me into the front pocket for easy access.
The final item Sam handed out was a wrist communicator for each person in the detail. They were set to an untraceable frequency and would be used to synchronize our attack. The interface was miniscule and lay flush on the skin, paper thin and unobtrusive. Being flesh-toned, it was nearly invisible.
We completed our planning and within the hour, two teams were loaded onto the Condors heading for Las Vegas, Lieutenants McNally and Fisher piloting the aircrafts. I wanted to bring the wolves, but negotiating tunnels and getting them inside the Industry headquarters with me would be tricky. They both whined as I leashed them and left them in Nora’s hands. Nora had said a teary good-bye to Sam, Will and me, making us all promise to return in one piece, and Maia had run off as soon as the meeting ended, furious that she wouldn’t be included in the mission. Her concern for Dalton was both admirable and palpable, but her inability to communicate verbally was a significant disadvantage on a mission depending greatly on a coordinated attack.
Moments later, we were in the air. As if the forces at Mach-2 didn’t have my heart pounding and my senses on overload, the thought of carrying the arsenal of explosives, incendiary devices, and weapons of mass destruction in the cargo hold of the Condor gave me plenty of reasons to sweat. Our pilot, McNally, zipped across plains, over mountaintops and down into valleys, staying well below radar to avoid detection as we approached our destination.
We set down just north of the airfield, less than a mile from the tunnel entrance where, just days before, Will and I had found our way into Industry Laboratory’s main headquarters—the prison where a group of EVO kids were being held—where Zeph had chosen to stay behind.
General McAlister, along with a dozen hand-picked special ops guys, all packed into the second Condor, would land closer to the downtown area and take control of the MGM building from the garage level, removing any interference from Malevich’s security forces. A third Condor would follow, carrying secondary reinforcements.
Happy to set my feet on solid ground, I filed in behind Sam and Will as our team trotted across an open field in the pitch dark. A group of four well-armed soldiers accompanied us. Sam had contacted Dalton and Agent Simms and the two were already in the air, bee lining it for the helipad on the roof of the MGM Grand. Barring any complications, they would infiltrate Malevich’s fortress around the same time we were rescuing Zeph and the EVO kids from being loaded on a rocket—headed for space. There was no way Malevich could be ahead of us in his plan. He wouldn’t be expecting us so soon, and he’d have a lot of preparations to take care of before launch.
Outfitted with night vision goggles, the scene before me was shrouded in a red haze. I didn’t necessarily need them, but the glow of my green eyes in the darkness would be a dead giveaway of our position. Will, the only one not wearing the goggles, moved like a predator—light on his feet, crouched low, and completely silent. I stayed at his side until we reached the mouth of the drainage tunnel a few minutes later.
When we’d last been in the deep underbelly of the city, we’d run into a man and his wife living in the tunnels, armed and ready to defend their shelter. I’d warned Sam about them and was hoping to get past them without an altercation.
“I think I should go in first,” I whispered. A familiar face and the memory of the gold coin I’d given them might make the man—Dell, I recalled—and his wife—who hadn’t volunteered her name—less likely to shoot us on sight. I clutched the locket and Will’s whistle, which hung on the chain over my hammering heart, and plunged in.
It was after midnight and the tunnel was silent except for the sound of our boots squishing through mud, muck, and a few inches of foul water. The musty smell of decay and the cold cement walls of the tomb-like tunnel made my stomach tighten, the thought of being trapped sending a shudder through me.
The walls of the tunnel were covered in graffiti. An occasional rat skittered past, annoyed at our intrusion. I shivered, despite the heat of the August night. Moist hot air engulfed us as the tunnel narrowed. Against Sam’s better judgment, he had agreed to let me take point and allowed me the courtesy of calling out to the couple, and again asking permission to cross through their home, rather than taking the couple by force and risking innocent lives. My pulse escalated in the confined space, especially with the press of a half dozen men’s bodies propelling me forward and blocking my retreat. As we neared the area where the tunnel dwellers had been camped out, I put my arm out for the men to stop.
I took a few steps closer, the couple’s makeshift camp coming into view several feet ahead. The strong scent of dirty clothes, unwashed flesh, excrement, and blood hit my nostrils. Will was already beside me, and as I reached out my senses to tune into the couple’s life force energy, he slipped his fingers through mine and gave my hand a firm squeeze. Intuitively, he knew it was the only thing he could do to stop my stomach from heaving or me from crying out.
“We’re too late,” I said with my hand covering my nose and mouth in protest of the overpowering presence of death.
“Yeah,” Will whispered. “The question is, who was here before us?”
