Phantom zero, p.15
Phantom Zero, page 15
You’ll do it anyway. You’ve made a career out of facing impossible situations and coming out on top. You guys are the Executive Operations Team. You eat situations like this for breakfast.
That thought did little to encourage him. It was a bit like a daredevil saying, You’ve tightroped across plenty of long falls. There’s no way you’ll fall to your death this time.
He chuckled without humor and focused on the last few feet of the climb. “Last push, everyone!” he called down. “We’re almost there!”
The crest loomed in front of him like an apple held by a goddess to reward him for finishing the race.
When he reached the top and pulled himself over the edge, he cried out with relief. He stumbled forward about ten feet to allow his companions room to come over, then dropped to the ground. He rolled onto his back and stared up at the sky.
His relief was short-lived. They still had a hell of a fight ahead of them.
He got to his feet and looked down the slope. The wall of the compound was visible ahead, the rocket launchers and machine guns arrayed against a threat that would no longer approach from the front.
Those weapons weren’t going to hurt them, but the dozen pillboxes between the wall and the bunker could. So could the unknown number of terrorists inside the compound who hadn’t just endured hours climbing and fighting in the freezing cold with only a few protein bars and the water in their canteen.
“Okay,” he said. “Let’s get going.”
They started down the slope, Maya going left, Trent right. Once they had the heavy weapons taken out, the job would be much easier. They’d be outnumbered, but they’d been outnumbered before. They could handle this. They just needed to—
“Drones!”
Bolton’s cry pierced Trent to his core. He looked down and saw the aircraft flying from the bunker below, rocketing into the sky and spreading out. They turned toward the team, seemingly lazy, but Trent knew how viciously fast and maneuverable they could be.
This job had just gone from difficult to impossible.
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO
The pillboxes opened up just as Maya’s feet landed on the wall. She crouched low as the bullets whipped overhead, tracer fire flashing in the low light of dawn. The machine guns and rocket launchers along the wall swiveled around, their targeting systems trying to turn to the invaders behind them but unable to do so.
“Watch out!” Bolton shouted.
Maya dove behind the nearest rocket launcher just before drones flew over their heads, their machine guns spraying fire on top of them. One of the SOG agents was caught in the back. He cried out, and that cry was cut short when the next burst found his head.
Damn it. The drones were flying behind them now where the machine guns couldn’t reach them.
“Focus on the rockets!” Bolton shouted. “We’ll handle the drones!”
He and the only surviving member of his team opened fire with their rifles, firing from their knees to stay below the sightlines of the pillboxes. Two drones sparked and shuddered. One fell straight down, exploding on one of the pillboxes. The other veered sharply right and crashed into a third drone, sending both careening over the wall and down the slope. The other drones sped back to the other side of the wall, desperate to escape the concentrated fire coming from the Americans.
Maya saw Trent kneel against a rocket launcher on the opposite side of the wall. She bent low and placed her own breaching charges against the base of the rocket launcher. The weapon swiveled and beeped in a panic, but it couldn’t reach her. Bullets slammed against the wall on either side of her head, reminding her that the drones still could, but the next moment, she heard fizzling as Bolton and his companion shot that drone out of the sky.
She backed to the other side of the wall, flattened herself to the ground, and called, “Fire in the hole!”
The shaped charges exploded with an anticlimactic cough, and the rocket launcher slid loose.
Over the side of the wall.
“Shit!”
Maya launched herself at the rocket, leaning over the wall and catching it just before it fell out of reach. Bullets smacked the wall in front of her, sending rock chips into her face while other bullets whipped through her hair. She struggled with the heavy weapon until a strong hand grabbed her collar and yanked her back over the other side.
Bolton fired a burst at the drone trying to kill Maya, and it fell like a rock to the glacier below. He nodded at her and mimed tilting his cap. “Ma’am.”
He turned away and fired at the fire control module of a heavy machine gun. He pulled it loose from the shredded remains of its mount and aimed it at another drone, arm muscles bulging with the strain. The other surviving SOG agent had commandeered another machine gun, and now the drones were completely on the back foot. The fifties could drop them in one shot, and they had greater range than the thirties the drones carried.
For now, the advantage was in the EOT’s favor. Maya carried the heavy rocket launcher to the other side of the wall and aimed down at the pillboxes. One of them rapidly swung her way, sensing the threat.
She fired. The rocket sped toward the pillbox and impacted the concrete machine gun emplacement just before it could return fire. It shattered into pieces, and the remnants of the machine gun fell useless to the ground.
She pumped her fist, then ran back for more ammunition. The rocket launcher was fed by a magazine that extended into the wall. The magazine had stopped moving when she separated the weapon from the mount, destroying the targeting computer in the process. Three of the rounds were above the wall and easily reached, but when she lifted the top one off, the others didn’t extend. She might be able to fish a fourth from inside, but she wouldn’t be able to get to the others.
Assuming the same for Trent, that gave them ten shots for twelve pillboxes. One of the pillboxes had been destroyed by the drones, so that would leave one left when they were finished.
The problem was that they still needed to get through the doors. They needed the rockets to do that. They didn’t have any more breaching charges, and the frags were designed to cause damage to a wide, circular area. It was possible that they could breach a door, but not likely. Ditto freeing another rocket launcher, aside from the fact that setting a grenade off on the wall had a high chance of killing some of her own team.
She would have to open the front door first and sacrifice one of her shots. That would leave two pillboxes unless they got lucky with another drone.
Another rocket streaked into the courtyard and Trent cried out in victory as the warhead destroyed another pillbox. Maya took a deep breath and carried the four rockets back to the launcher, careful not to drop the warheads onto the impact detonators in their nose.
She loaded the first rocket and aimed at the door. A pillbox fired just as she did, striking the rocket motor. Her rocket was knocked off course. It veered downward and destroyed the pillbox that had shot it, not a terrible result, but if the pillboxes did the same to each rocket, then they couldn’t breach the door.
Maya tried again, and this time, the pillbox destroyed the rocket entirely while it was still in the air. No pillbox, no door.
That wasn’t good. They needed that door open, and now they would have three pillboxes to contend with when they were out of rockets.
She looked at Trent and saw the same concern on his face. He was hesitating to fire his second shot. While they waited, the final SOG agent cried out, struck by a drone. She staggered backward and fell over the other side. The pillboxes shredded her body on the way down.
“Damn it!” Bolton cried. “Bastard!”
He destroyed the drone that had killed his agent, but that still left them down to only the three of them. The advantage they’d enjoyed a moment ago was slipping away.
Trent fired while the pillboxes were distracted. His rocket sailed straight to the door and punched a hole seven feet across in the middle. That was good, but Trent didn’t look like he was celebrating. He looked sick. Maya knew how he felt. All twelve of their SOG team gone, lost to fight some asshole hellbent on revenge, a man who literally idolized the Devil.
His father had once told her, War sucks. Always. Good guys, bad guys, doesn’t matter. It all sucks. It’s the most horrible thing humanity can do to itself, and the world will be a better place when we finally eliminate it.
She was thirteen when he said that. It would be three more years before she learned who he was and what he did for a living and understood how personal that statement was for him.
She knew it very well now.
She fired her final rockets at the other pillboxes. The pillboxes stopped one more of her rounds, but the other two found their marks. Trent scored with both of his remaining shots, and they were left with five pillboxes. They’d reduced the threat by more than half, but Maya wasn’t sure that would make enough of a difference.
“Got it!” Bolton cried. “You damned bastard!” He turned to Maya, eyes blazing. “That was the last drone.”
Maya nodded. That was good, but it meant no chance of crashing the drones into the remaining machine gun emplacements either. “We got seven of the pillboxes. We have five left.”
Bolton’s smile faded. He sighed and said, “All right. It is what it is.”
Maya felt a stab of guilt. This team was her responsibility. Their lives were in her hands, and they’d lost everyone already. She had committed to destroying the pillboxes, and she had failed.
A lump formed in her throat, but she pushed it away. She could feel sorry later. She still had a mission to complete.
“Bolton, see if the fifty will pierce the pillboxes’ armor.”
Bolton nodded and carried a machine gun close to the wall. Maya looked at the open door beyond and saw no one. The terrorists were cowering in their hole.
Or they were preparing for phase two of their attack. Another chill ran through her body. They could get through all of this only to find that it was for nothing.
Focus on what you can control. Don’t worry about what you can’t change.
Bolton fired. His bullet flattened harmlessly off the armor of the pillboxes. “No good. It’s steel-reinforced concrete, and it’s thick as shit.”
Maya nodded. “Okay. Then we fire smoke grenades and move quickly.”
“Yep,” Bolton agreed.
The three of them tossed the grenades over the wall. One of the pillboxes shot one in midair, forming an instant cloud of dark gray smoke. The others landed in front of the emplacements and fog rose from the ground, obscuring their view.
“Go!” Maya called.
She pulled her goggles down and switched on thermal imaging. The pillboxes glowed dully, the bullets flashing orange-white as they swept across the ground, making up for their blindness by covering the entire area. She led Trent and Bolton around the pillboxes, weaving to avoid the bullets. When they reached the open doorway safely, Maya’s spirits lifted. They could still do this. It wasn’t over yet.
But they were leaving the rest of their team behind. As always, their victory, if achieved, would be paid for in blood.
War sucks.
True, but failure would suck a lot more and still cost them in blood.
So, they rushed forward, rifles trained on the dark expanse ahead.
CHAPTER TWENTY THREE
“Damn it!” Zero shouted. “God damn it!”
He threw his phone toward the passenger side window. Alan caught it just before it shattered the glass. “Let’s not lose our cool. Channel Kent Steele, yeah?”
Zero’s hands tightened on the steering wheel as his foot went to the floor. He would love to channel Kent Steele, but Reid Lawson’s daughters weren’t answering the phone, and they were at the apartment where the entire fighting force Meridian had sent was now converging.
“Zero!”
Zero swerved to the left, narrowly avoiding the back of the sedan they were bearing down on at one hundred ten miles an hour. The truck sashayed frighteningly on the road, the rear tires skidding and spinning as the truck struggled to maintain traction.
They crossed into oncoming traffic, and Alan cried out as a semi came at them at a combined speed of one hundred seventy miles an hour. Zero jerked the wheel to the right, and the truck drifted just out of the way of the oncoming semi. The tractor-trailer’s horn blared, but Zero didn’t pay attention. He glanced at his GPS. Thirty miles to the apartment still. He could make that in about twenty minutes if he kept up this pace.
He heard Alan on the phone, and when he heard Todd’s name, he said, “Tell them to send agents to Sara’s apartment ASAP! She and Mischa are under attack!”
“I’m telling him! No, I meant I’m telling… Here, I’m just going to put you on speaker.”
“Zero, what the hell?” Todd barked.
"I know," Zero replied. "I'm sorry. The girls drugged Alan and ran off, thinking they were going to go cowboy on Meridian. They're about to be ambushed by Meridian forces, and we need backup."
“Jesus, Zero. This is the worst goddamned timing.”
“I know, Todd, but my daughters are in danger. Please.”
“Yeah, I know that. That includes your oldest daughter who we lost… Look, I’m busy right now—”
“Wait, what?” Zero interrupted. “What do you mean you lost Maya?”
“I don’t mean we lost Maya. I mean we lost contact with their aircraft. Keller has an extra layer of jamming protecting the Ninth Circle, and we lost contact with the insertion team as soon as it crossed that barrier.”
“Who’s Keller? What’s the Ninth Circle.”
“Right, you’re not up to speed. Look, the point is, I have my hands full. I’m working on getting backup to Maya and Trent, and the rest of the Agency is working with the FBI to arrest a lot of politicians and business leaders along with a couple of military brass. We’ve got our hands full. I don’t…” He sighed. “I don’t have anyone. I’m sorry.”
Zero took a moment to process that information. “We’re on our own.”
“I can call the police, but if we get local police involved, then your cover is definitely blown. Honestly, it’s probably fucked anyway. You guys are gonna end up in a firefight in a residential area… Shit. Yeah, I have to call the police. We’re going to have to evacuate civilians. Shit, I can’t do this right now.”
Alan took the phone. “Todd, don’t worry about it. You have a planet to save. We can handle some bruisers from a mafia.”
Zero frowned at him, but he wasn’t wrong. Todd had bigger things to deal with. That was an inconvenient truth, but it was still the truth.
“I appreciate that, Alan, but I still need to send emergency services to Sara’s apartment. I’ll try to give you guys a few minutes to get in, grab the girls, and get out, but we need to make sure we can put this fire out before it spreads. As for what happens after… Well, we’ll figure that part out. Shit, Zero.”
“Don’t blame him for this,” Alan said. “This one’s not on him.”
"Yes, the fuck it is! I let him stay home because you were supposed to watch the girls! This is an extremely terrible time for me to get pulled away to handle this kind of bullshit! This could be a career ender for you, Trent, and Maya."
Zero’s shoulders slumped. “I know. I’m sorry for that.”
"Fuck your sorry. Shit." He sighed. "Look, Mischa's a tough kid, and Sara's stronger than you think. They'll be fine until law enforcement gets there. Just do me a favor, please. When you get there, don’t tell anyone your name—any of your names—and wear something over your face. Even if it’s a pair of dirty underpants. We need to try to make sure your identity doesn’t show up in the media. Shit, Zero.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“It’s terrible for all of us.”
“Oh, go straight to Hell. Don’t get pedantic with me. Your entire family can’t figure out how to sit still. You just have to cause trouble every damned place you go.”
Zero’s hands tightened around the steering wheel. “You can’t send anyone? Not even a couple of agents to help us cover an exit?”
“Are you listening? I can’t send anyone! This. Is. A. Crisis.”
“Todd please. It’s my kids.”
“I know that, but it’s also the world.” Todd sighed. “I’ll send law enforcement. I told you, it’s the best I can do. Shit, I gotta go. I have the President on the other line.”
He hung up. Alan put his phone down and looked ahead. He stiffened and pointed through the windshield. “Zero! Damn it!”
Zero looked through the window and saw the road curve. He swerved to avoid running off the highway, and the passenger side tires lifted into the air. They hung there for a long, sickening moment, then settled back down onto the road.
“Jesus, Zero!” Alan shouted.
Zero tapped the wheel. “Try calling the girls with your phone. Maybe they’ll answer you.”
Alan pulled his phone out and dialed Mischa’s number. “No, still voicemail.”
“Try Sara.”
“Gee, really? I was thinking of calling my buddy Mike in Toronto.”
Zero glared at Alan again, and he sighed. “Sorry. I’m kind of worked up too.”
He dialed Sara’s number and cursed. “No answer.
Zero shook his head and weaved the truck through traffic. He and Alan were both on edge, and it was ruining their judgment and ability to communicate. They needed to reset. Zero had been on multiple missions with Maya when Maya was in danger. Alan had been on missions with Sara and Mischa when they were in danger. They had all fought Mr. Bright and his corrupt CIA plants together. This was nothing new. It was frustrating but not novel. They could handle it.
“How long?” he asked Zero.
“GPS says fifteen minutes.”
“Okay. Let’s see if we can make it ten.
Zero pulled into the oncoming lanes to pass a pair of stubborn sports cars that wanted to drive fifty in a sixty-five. The cars sped up to block Zero from coming back over. Zero looked to his right to see the drivers laughing. The one in the left lane caught Zero’s expression and thrust his chin. He mouthed what?
That thought did little to encourage him. It was a bit like a daredevil saying, You’ve tightroped across plenty of long falls. There’s no way you’ll fall to your death this time.
He chuckled without humor and focused on the last few feet of the climb. “Last push, everyone!” he called down. “We’re almost there!”
The crest loomed in front of him like an apple held by a goddess to reward him for finishing the race.
When he reached the top and pulled himself over the edge, he cried out with relief. He stumbled forward about ten feet to allow his companions room to come over, then dropped to the ground. He rolled onto his back and stared up at the sky.
His relief was short-lived. They still had a hell of a fight ahead of them.
He got to his feet and looked down the slope. The wall of the compound was visible ahead, the rocket launchers and machine guns arrayed against a threat that would no longer approach from the front.
Those weapons weren’t going to hurt them, but the dozen pillboxes between the wall and the bunker could. So could the unknown number of terrorists inside the compound who hadn’t just endured hours climbing and fighting in the freezing cold with only a few protein bars and the water in their canteen.
“Okay,” he said. “Let’s get going.”
They started down the slope, Maya going left, Trent right. Once they had the heavy weapons taken out, the job would be much easier. They’d be outnumbered, but they’d been outnumbered before. They could handle this. They just needed to—
“Drones!”
Bolton’s cry pierced Trent to his core. He looked down and saw the aircraft flying from the bunker below, rocketing into the sky and spreading out. They turned toward the team, seemingly lazy, but Trent knew how viciously fast and maneuverable they could be.
This job had just gone from difficult to impossible.
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO
The pillboxes opened up just as Maya’s feet landed on the wall. She crouched low as the bullets whipped overhead, tracer fire flashing in the low light of dawn. The machine guns and rocket launchers along the wall swiveled around, their targeting systems trying to turn to the invaders behind them but unable to do so.
“Watch out!” Bolton shouted.
Maya dove behind the nearest rocket launcher just before drones flew over their heads, their machine guns spraying fire on top of them. One of the SOG agents was caught in the back. He cried out, and that cry was cut short when the next burst found his head.
Damn it. The drones were flying behind them now where the machine guns couldn’t reach them.
“Focus on the rockets!” Bolton shouted. “We’ll handle the drones!”
He and the only surviving member of his team opened fire with their rifles, firing from their knees to stay below the sightlines of the pillboxes. Two drones sparked and shuddered. One fell straight down, exploding on one of the pillboxes. The other veered sharply right and crashed into a third drone, sending both careening over the wall and down the slope. The other drones sped back to the other side of the wall, desperate to escape the concentrated fire coming from the Americans.
Maya saw Trent kneel against a rocket launcher on the opposite side of the wall. She bent low and placed her own breaching charges against the base of the rocket launcher. The weapon swiveled and beeped in a panic, but it couldn’t reach her. Bullets slammed against the wall on either side of her head, reminding her that the drones still could, but the next moment, she heard fizzling as Bolton and his companion shot that drone out of the sky.
She backed to the other side of the wall, flattened herself to the ground, and called, “Fire in the hole!”
The shaped charges exploded with an anticlimactic cough, and the rocket launcher slid loose.
Over the side of the wall.
“Shit!”
Maya launched herself at the rocket, leaning over the wall and catching it just before it fell out of reach. Bullets smacked the wall in front of her, sending rock chips into her face while other bullets whipped through her hair. She struggled with the heavy weapon until a strong hand grabbed her collar and yanked her back over the other side.
Bolton fired a burst at the drone trying to kill Maya, and it fell like a rock to the glacier below. He nodded at her and mimed tilting his cap. “Ma’am.”
He turned away and fired at the fire control module of a heavy machine gun. He pulled it loose from the shredded remains of its mount and aimed it at another drone, arm muscles bulging with the strain. The other surviving SOG agent had commandeered another machine gun, and now the drones were completely on the back foot. The fifties could drop them in one shot, and they had greater range than the thirties the drones carried.
For now, the advantage was in the EOT’s favor. Maya carried the heavy rocket launcher to the other side of the wall and aimed down at the pillboxes. One of them rapidly swung her way, sensing the threat.
She fired. The rocket sped toward the pillbox and impacted the concrete machine gun emplacement just before it could return fire. It shattered into pieces, and the remnants of the machine gun fell useless to the ground.
She pumped her fist, then ran back for more ammunition. The rocket launcher was fed by a magazine that extended into the wall. The magazine had stopped moving when she separated the weapon from the mount, destroying the targeting computer in the process. Three of the rounds were above the wall and easily reached, but when she lifted the top one off, the others didn’t extend. She might be able to fish a fourth from inside, but she wouldn’t be able to get to the others.
Assuming the same for Trent, that gave them ten shots for twelve pillboxes. One of the pillboxes had been destroyed by the drones, so that would leave one left when they were finished.
The problem was that they still needed to get through the doors. They needed the rockets to do that. They didn’t have any more breaching charges, and the frags were designed to cause damage to a wide, circular area. It was possible that they could breach a door, but not likely. Ditto freeing another rocket launcher, aside from the fact that setting a grenade off on the wall had a high chance of killing some of her own team.
She would have to open the front door first and sacrifice one of her shots. That would leave two pillboxes unless they got lucky with another drone.
Another rocket streaked into the courtyard and Trent cried out in victory as the warhead destroyed another pillbox. Maya took a deep breath and carried the four rockets back to the launcher, careful not to drop the warheads onto the impact detonators in their nose.
She loaded the first rocket and aimed at the door. A pillbox fired just as she did, striking the rocket motor. Her rocket was knocked off course. It veered downward and destroyed the pillbox that had shot it, not a terrible result, but if the pillboxes did the same to each rocket, then they couldn’t breach the door.
Maya tried again, and this time, the pillbox destroyed the rocket entirely while it was still in the air. No pillbox, no door.
That wasn’t good. They needed that door open, and now they would have three pillboxes to contend with when they were out of rockets.
She looked at Trent and saw the same concern on his face. He was hesitating to fire his second shot. While they waited, the final SOG agent cried out, struck by a drone. She staggered backward and fell over the other side. The pillboxes shredded her body on the way down.
“Damn it!” Bolton cried. “Bastard!”
He destroyed the drone that had killed his agent, but that still left them down to only the three of them. The advantage they’d enjoyed a moment ago was slipping away.
Trent fired while the pillboxes were distracted. His rocket sailed straight to the door and punched a hole seven feet across in the middle. That was good, but Trent didn’t look like he was celebrating. He looked sick. Maya knew how he felt. All twelve of their SOG team gone, lost to fight some asshole hellbent on revenge, a man who literally idolized the Devil.
His father had once told her, War sucks. Always. Good guys, bad guys, doesn’t matter. It all sucks. It’s the most horrible thing humanity can do to itself, and the world will be a better place when we finally eliminate it.
She was thirteen when he said that. It would be three more years before she learned who he was and what he did for a living and understood how personal that statement was for him.
She knew it very well now.
She fired her final rockets at the other pillboxes. The pillboxes stopped one more of her rounds, but the other two found their marks. Trent scored with both of his remaining shots, and they were left with five pillboxes. They’d reduced the threat by more than half, but Maya wasn’t sure that would make enough of a difference.
“Got it!” Bolton cried. “You damned bastard!” He turned to Maya, eyes blazing. “That was the last drone.”
Maya nodded. That was good, but it meant no chance of crashing the drones into the remaining machine gun emplacements either. “We got seven of the pillboxes. We have five left.”
Bolton’s smile faded. He sighed and said, “All right. It is what it is.”
Maya felt a stab of guilt. This team was her responsibility. Their lives were in her hands, and they’d lost everyone already. She had committed to destroying the pillboxes, and she had failed.
A lump formed in her throat, but she pushed it away. She could feel sorry later. She still had a mission to complete.
“Bolton, see if the fifty will pierce the pillboxes’ armor.”
Bolton nodded and carried a machine gun close to the wall. Maya looked at the open door beyond and saw no one. The terrorists were cowering in their hole.
Or they were preparing for phase two of their attack. Another chill ran through her body. They could get through all of this only to find that it was for nothing.
Focus on what you can control. Don’t worry about what you can’t change.
Bolton fired. His bullet flattened harmlessly off the armor of the pillboxes. “No good. It’s steel-reinforced concrete, and it’s thick as shit.”
Maya nodded. “Okay. Then we fire smoke grenades and move quickly.”
“Yep,” Bolton agreed.
The three of them tossed the grenades over the wall. One of the pillboxes shot one in midair, forming an instant cloud of dark gray smoke. The others landed in front of the emplacements and fog rose from the ground, obscuring their view.
“Go!” Maya called.
She pulled her goggles down and switched on thermal imaging. The pillboxes glowed dully, the bullets flashing orange-white as they swept across the ground, making up for their blindness by covering the entire area. She led Trent and Bolton around the pillboxes, weaving to avoid the bullets. When they reached the open doorway safely, Maya’s spirits lifted. They could still do this. It wasn’t over yet.
But they were leaving the rest of their team behind. As always, their victory, if achieved, would be paid for in blood.
War sucks.
True, but failure would suck a lot more and still cost them in blood.
So, they rushed forward, rifles trained on the dark expanse ahead.
CHAPTER TWENTY THREE
“Damn it!” Zero shouted. “God damn it!”
He threw his phone toward the passenger side window. Alan caught it just before it shattered the glass. “Let’s not lose our cool. Channel Kent Steele, yeah?”
Zero’s hands tightened on the steering wheel as his foot went to the floor. He would love to channel Kent Steele, but Reid Lawson’s daughters weren’t answering the phone, and they were at the apartment where the entire fighting force Meridian had sent was now converging.
“Zero!”
Zero swerved to the left, narrowly avoiding the back of the sedan they were bearing down on at one hundred ten miles an hour. The truck sashayed frighteningly on the road, the rear tires skidding and spinning as the truck struggled to maintain traction.
They crossed into oncoming traffic, and Alan cried out as a semi came at them at a combined speed of one hundred seventy miles an hour. Zero jerked the wheel to the right, and the truck drifted just out of the way of the oncoming semi. The tractor-trailer’s horn blared, but Zero didn’t pay attention. He glanced at his GPS. Thirty miles to the apartment still. He could make that in about twenty minutes if he kept up this pace.
He heard Alan on the phone, and when he heard Todd’s name, he said, “Tell them to send agents to Sara’s apartment ASAP! She and Mischa are under attack!”
“I’m telling him! No, I meant I’m telling… Here, I’m just going to put you on speaker.”
“Zero, what the hell?” Todd barked.
"I know," Zero replied. "I'm sorry. The girls drugged Alan and ran off, thinking they were going to go cowboy on Meridian. They're about to be ambushed by Meridian forces, and we need backup."
“Jesus, Zero. This is the worst goddamned timing.”
“I know, Todd, but my daughters are in danger. Please.”
“Yeah, I know that. That includes your oldest daughter who we lost… Look, I’m busy right now—”
“Wait, what?” Zero interrupted. “What do you mean you lost Maya?”
“I don’t mean we lost Maya. I mean we lost contact with their aircraft. Keller has an extra layer of jamming protecting the Ninth Circle, and we lost contact with the insertion team as soon as it crossed that barrier.”
“Who’s Keller? What’s the Ninth Circle.”
“Right, you’re not up to speed. Look, the point is, I have my hands full. I’m working on getting backup to Maya and Trent, and the rest of the Agency is working with the FBI to arrest a lot of politicians and business leaders along with a couple of military brass. We’ve got our hands full. I don’t…” He sighed. “I don’t have anyone. I’m sorry.”
Zero took a moment to process that information. “We’re on our own.”
“I can call the police, but if we get local police involved, then your cover is definitely blown. Honestly, it’s probably fucked anyway. You guys are gonna end up in a firefight in a residential area… Shit. Yeah, I have to call the police. We’re going to have to evacuate civilians. Shit, I can’t do this right now.”
Alan took the phone. “Todd, don’t worry about it. You have a planet to save. We can handle some bruisers from a mafia.”
Zero frowned at him, but he wasn’t wrong. Todd had bigger things to deal with. That was an inconvenient truth, but it was still the truth.
“I appreciate that, Alan, but I still need to send emergency services to Sara’s apartment. I’ll try to give you guys a few minutes to get in, grab the girls, and get out, but we need to make sure we can put this fire out before it spreads. As for what happens after… Well, we’ll figure that part out. Shit, Zero.”
“Don’t blame him for this,” Alan said. “This one’s not on him.”
"Yes, the fuck it is! I let him stay home because you were supposed to watch the girls! This is an extremely terrible time for me to get pulled away to handle this kind of bullshit! This could be a career ender for you, Trent, and Maya."
Zero’s shoulders slumped. “I know. I’m sorry for that.”
"Fuck your sorry. Shit." He sighed. "Look, Mischa's a tough kid, and Sara's stronger than you think. They'll be fine until law enforcement gets there. Just do me a favor, please. When you get there, don’t tell anyone your name—any of your names—and wear something over your face. Even if it’s a pair of dirty underpants. We need to try to make sure your identity doesn’t show up in the media. Shit, Zero.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“It’s terrible for all of us.”
“Oh, go straight to Hell. Don’t get pedantic with me. Your entire family can’t figure out how to sit still. You just have to cause trouble every damned place you go.”
Zero’s hands tightened around the steering wheel. “You can’t send anyone? Not even a couple of agents to help us cover an exit?”
“Are you listening? I can’t send anyone! This. Is. A. Crisis.”
“Todd please. It’s my kids.”
“I know that, but it’s also the world.” Todd sighed. “I’ll send law enforcement. I told you, it’s the best I can do. Shit, I gotta go. I have the President on the other line.”
He hung up. Alan put his phone down and looked ahead. He stiffened and pointed through the windshield. “Zero! Damn it!”
Zero looked through the window and saw the road curve. He swerved to avoid running off the highway, and the passenger side tires lifted into the air. They hung there for a long, sickening moment, then settled back down onto the road.
“Jesus, Zero!” Alan shouted.
Zero tapped the wheel. “Try calling the girls with your phone. Maybe they’ll answer you.”
Alan pulled his phone out and dialed Mischa’s number. “No, still voicemail.”
“Try Sara.”
“Gee, really? I was thinking of calling my buddy Mike in Toronto.”
Zero glared at Alan again, and he sighed. “Sorry. I’m kind of worked up too.”
He dialed Sara’s number and cursed. “No answer.
Zero shook his head and weaved the truck through traffic. He and Alan were both on edge, and it was ruining their judgment and ability to communicate. They needed to reset. Zero had been on multiple missions with Maya when Maya was in danger. Alan had been on missions with Sara and Mischa when they were in danger. They had all fought Mr. Bright and his corrupt CIA plants together. This was nothing new. It was frustrating but not novel. They could handle it.
“How long?” he asked Zero.
“GPS says fifteen minutes.”
“Okay. Let’s see if we can make it ten.
Zero pulled into the oncoming lanes to pass a pair of stubborn sports cars that wanted to drive fifty in a sixty-five. The cars sped up to block Zero from coming back over. Zero looked to his right to see the drivers laughing. The one in the left lane caught Zero’s expression and thrust his chin. He mouthed what?
