The Price We Pay (Life After War Book 7) Read online

  “Yes. Half a team at each site to wait for the group,” Neil said, not liking the idea that Angela had felt the need for three dens to keep their people safe.

  “We cleared them yesterday and last night,” Jeremy added. “We’re all set.”

  “Good. Seth is in charge of the move. You two will help him until it’s time to open your envelopes.”

  Both men nodded, stifling questions and protests. She hadn’t responded to anyone who had tried to get more information out of her.

  “In a few days,” Angela told them. “You two will be back here with a lot on your minds.”

  All three males around her tensed, for different reasons. Shawn was ready to fight for her if things got out of hand.

  “My plan is bigger and I see more. Follow your orders and things will all work out in the end.”

  “Can you promise that?” Neil demanded. “Can you swear we’ll be back with her?”

  “Yes, so long as everyone does their job,” Angela promised, not wincing at that guilt layer. They we’re facing a new enemy, along with the soldiers, and she had to have people like Sam on the front lines. Even if it cost their lives.

  Zack had been observing as she visited with each tent and he thought he had the answers to most of his question now.

  “I’m heading out,” Zack said.

  Angela nodded. She’d let him figure it out for himself and he had. He wasn’t the only one being kept out of the main loop with a secret job. Most of the fighters here wouldn’t like knowing Zack had wired explosives into all three of the dens she’d chosen. Zack and his team had been busy since Marc returned and their days would only get longer from here.

  4

  He comes. Beware.

  Sam paused in the middle of twirling cold spaghetti onto her fork. She’d been enjoying the warmth of Dog curled on top of her boots, but that comfort was gone. She glanced around slowly, feeling an icy chill that screamed for attention.

  Who? she asked warily. Samantha hadn’t been communicating with that voice inside much yet. She wasn’t sure of the rules or the etiquette.

  The enemy.

  Samantha found Angela at the next table and locked eyes with her; uncomfortable with the new gifts she’d been given. The visions were often ugly.

  Angela scanned her, and then left the mess without a word to anyone.

  Samantha found Marc in her mind an instant later and she let him into her mind.

  Marc took in the blurry images with dismay and then he too left without speaking.

  Neither of them had told her to keep it quiet and Sam didn’t try to stop Jennifer and others from reading the danger. Instead of the panic and confusion that should have ensued, all of the females and their mates looked at Sam, waiting for orders. Even Cynthia.

  Sam felt the pride and the stress of making the right choices, but the need to save whoever she could was overwhelming the other emotions. “He’s here. She was right on the time. Go get your gear. While you’re alone, open the first envelope and get on it. The waiting is over.”

  Neil and Jeremy appeared at her side and Sam grinned sadly. “Wish there was time to get use to this.”

  Neither man knew what to say. Sam let them off the hook with a sharp tone and a big smile. “Snap to, Eagles!”

  Neil opened his mouth, maybe to question her real meaning, and Sam stopped him. “No. Let’s go spend a few minutes in our tent while I pack.”

  She headed that way before either of them could argue.

  The mess was deserted a minute later. A few seconds after that, the camp sirens began to blare.

  “There’s a storm coming. Take cover. I repeat, there’s a storm coming. Please proceed to your tent or camper, and open your first envelope. Camp will be rolled in according to the new directives. Be in your assigned place before evening mess. There’s no backing out now, and no backing down. We’re going to reclaim our country and drive out the enemy. This is our land, our lives, and we will never surrender!”

  The message, quickly recorded by Angela and Kenn, repeated continuously for a while, disturbing the peaceful mountainside. Nervous animals and birds took off in angry protest as the camp packed and loaded, scattering and regrouping flocks.

  5

  Conner stayed still and silent as the camp rushed around, chattering and appearing scared. He didn’t care as much about that right now. He would do his part, and do it better than even Angela expected, but right now, he was focused on the couple lingering outside their tent. The pair didn’t know they were being observed, and that was how Conner wanted it for now. His dad had said he would help, but only if Conner had the patience to wait for the right time. So, he was contenting himself with watching from a distance. He’d excused his behavior by saying he went for a walk every morning to help strengthen the leg that had been shot and was believed.

  Conner stopped breathing as a pair of Eagles came by, but they didn’t notice him and he was able resume his stalking. He had a basic pattern now (find her, observe her and the guard that was always on her tent, then allow nature to take its course) and he moved into the final part in a daze. This was the time when he could be easily caught, and the excitement sent blood rushing into his loins.

  Not far away, the vet spotted Conner hiding in the bushes and weeds, and scowled heavily at the scene, but he didn’t stop. He had somewhere to be. Angela hadn’t given him an envelope. He was supposed to be with the rest of the sheep in camp when it all went down, but the vet had other plans. And if he were successful, Angela would be grateful enough to grant him favors later, when it mattered.

  Conner fell to his knees, breathing in hurried gasps that he tried to muffle with the sleeve of his jacket. As he knelt there, trying to recover, movement drew his attention and he watched the vet disappear into the thicker part of the woods.

  Did he see me?

  Conner hurriedly covered himself and got out of the area in case Chris told someone and Eagles came searching. The teenager didn’t wonder why the vet was sneaking out of camp, too concerned with his own infractions. Conner hurried to his tent to reread his first instructions, vaguely aware of birds fleeing their new noises and small animals running for their dens.

  That’ll be us shortly, Conner thought.

  6

  “Look.”

  Sherman spotted the flock of upset birds that his right hand man had pointed out and grunted, “Finally!”

  The mercenary team leader pulled a radio from his kit, aware that the other men with him were packing their gear in quick, eager motions. They were always relieved when the waiting was over.

  Sherman clicked the mike in the code they’d chosen for this mission, breaking the static with calculated pauses of communication. As soon as Safe Haven figured out what they were doing, they would switch to a different form if they needed it. Sherman didn’t think they would. He and his team had performed this particular invasion many times and it always worked. All they’d been waiting for was a sign that Safe Haven was on the move. Command knew they wouldn’t stay out in the open for the fight, and in the confusion of relocating so many people, Sherman and his team would have an opportunity to grab some of their leadership.

  Sherman didn’t wait for a response. He slipped the radio onto the tool belt around his lean hips and then began packing up his gear. They would be on their way within the hour, and dressed as Eagles, they wouldn’t be stopped.

  Chapter Four

  1

  “We’re almost there, sir,” the pilot called.

  He didn’t expect an answer, but couldn’t stop a glance at his passenger. He’d never transported anyone who had as deadly a reputation. The Major, who was called the Butcher, even appeared dangerous while sleeping.

  His passenger did not appear to have heard him, but the pilot didn’t repeat himself. The stories about Major Donner implied he was always alert.

  The pilot checked his gauges, adjusting a bit for the stiff winds. He glanced through his left window, spotting the battlefield the
descendants had left in their wake. The ground was charred, gaping, and gone in some places.

  The pilot looked to the right and found Major Donner sitting there, staring back at him.

  “Fuck me!”

  The Major grinned coolly. “I might if you don’t pull up. Now.”

  The pilot jerked on the stick and they missed the empty water tower by inches.

  Major Donner yawned. “You’ll do. How long?”

  The pilot swallowed his nerves. “Five minutes.”

  “Fine. Circle twice and bring this bird down right where I tell you to.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The landscape was harsh and ugly in the morning glare, matching Major Donner’s countenance. His scars, crooked nose, and missing tooth were a warning of how dangerous he was, much like the land below. Only the smartest would survive here, or those with descendants watching out for them, and Major Donner didn’t plan to underestimate his prey. The powers that be had finally reached desperation in their fight to capture the Safe Haven runners and they’d sent in the best.

  Donner had cleaned out several pockets of their kind since the war, one in Washington State that had earned him top-level security clearance. He’d spent the last four months in the north, and was glad to be under American military rule again. The Canadians were being extremely strict when it came to visits from foreigners. Considering that Major Donner and his team had been there to assassinate their slowly forming leadership council, it seemed wise on their part. It hadn’t mattered, of course, but Donner had respected the effort.

  The United States government also had people in the south, though few of those had checked in recently. The Mexicans, led by a man called Sebastian, were fighting more aggressively than anyone had anticipated. Safe Haven’s hope had spread and Major Donner was slotted to head there as soon as he put out these flames. The Mexicans were to have a couple more weeks to live and then Donner was supposed to lay waste to them all. At least, that’s what Uncle Sam had planned. What Donner ended up doing wouldn’t even be close to that, but they wouldn’t know until it was too late.

  “Damn.”

  The pilot’s shock was to be expected. The base below was destroyed. It was so bad that a tent city had been set up for the men. Donner assumed the remaining buildings weren’t safe, but didn’t care either way. The men now staring up at his plane with resentment would learn that he wasn’t wasting any more time here than he had to.

  “Bring us down in the middle.”

  The pilot didn’t argue, despite the fact that a few of the tents below would be damaged.

  He brought the heavy plane down with careful, light hands and then gave Major Donner a nod. “All clear. Wait for you?”

  “No,” Donner grunted as he stood up. “I’ll find my own way from here.”

  The pilot waited until Major Donner was visible through the big window and then began to turn the plane around to reuse the same area he’d cleared with his landing. As he rolled by the shouting men, the pilot radioed base, “Package is delivered. No trouble. Headed in.”

  The soldier’s tent city was a disorderly clutter of canvas, equipment, and drunken, angry men. These were the reserves from the western base, the men who had earned passes and been promised they would never have to venture out into this hell. Unlike the soldiers who had died in this fight before them, these thousand men wanted to be underground. It showed in the bad tempers and nasty remarks that degenerated into physical confrontations.

  Philips, the highest ranked man on site, didn’t push them or try to take control. He had to sleep and without friends (he was working on that, but it was slow going), Philips was sure he’d wake up to feel a blade slide across his throat if he tried to insist on anything. He’d told base that in his last dispatch, flatly refusing to do his job, and they’d informed him that a new commander was being sent to relieve him. The Butcher was rumored to be one of the best mercenaries in the business, but Philips wasn’t sure one man could handle these unruly soldiers, let alone make them attack Safe Haven.

  Philips watched Major Donner strut to the clearly marked tent waiting for him and duck inside, frowning. Didn’t the Major understand how upset these men were? They needed a sign of leadership.

  Aware of all the resentful eyes on him, Philips limped into the tent behind his new boss.

  “Welcome, Major Donner,” Philips spilled out, already intimidated by the man in front of him. “You have a full battalion of men to work with.”

  The lackey looked around nervously when the imposing man didn’t reply. “It’s not much, I’m sure, compared to what you’re used to, but it’s all…”

  “Stop.”

  Philips fell silent immediately. He’d served a congressional representative before the war. He knew when to be offended and when to tolerate. This was neither of those. Major Donner was here to assume command and Philips wanted to stay close. With his limp, he wasn’t good for much else beyond supervising personal comforts.

  “Where’s the leader of this base?”

  “I believe I’m talking to him, sir,” Philips stated uneasily.

  Major Donner sat down behind the ornate desk he was sure had once been in the hall of the base. It was a reception area piece.

  Donner pulled a nearby pad of paper and pen closer, and wrote a short message.

  He held it out to his new lackey. “Take that to the former leader of these men. Make sure his group gets to read it. Report back.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Philips only waited to be outside before scanning the small, tight script.

  Only cowards go AWOL when it gets bloody. Remember your training and you may even come back alive.

  Philips quickly handed the note to the man he thought of killing every day and quickly got out of the line of fire. That was a direct challenge that Sergeant Shilling wouldn’t let pass.

  2

  “Get out here!”

  “Come on, you bastard! No one calls me a coward!”

  Major Donner came from his tent dressed in his usual hunting attire—kit on his back, rifle in his grip, pointed at the ground.

  The sight of those worn, well-fitting guns and knives brought a tense silence to the small crowd.

  Sergeant Shilling had brought a few friends, ten other angry men who thought they would shine while in charge, and he stood in front of them with his arms crossed.

  Donner raised a brow. “Well?”

  Suddenly remembering he’d called the Major out, Sergeant Shilling stepped forward. “Uh, call base and tell them we ain’t attacking those people. Tell them to come and get us!”

  Major Donner didn’t respond to the demand or the cheering. He spent a few seconds evaluating positions, possible skill and reactions, then shrugged. “Maybe I will. First, you’ll listen to what I have to say and make a choice. Okay?”

  Caught off guard by the lack of resistance, the Sergeant caved. “Yeah, we’ll listen, but it ain’t gonna matter. We wanna go where it’s safe.”

  Major Donner smiled sarcastically. “So do I, but I ain’t goin’ underground to be ordered out again the next time they pick a fight they can’t win.”

  “You sayin’ we couldn’t beat those Safe Haven rent-a-cops?” one soldier from Shilling’s group asked cockily. “Cause that isn’t true.”

  “That’s right, man! We choose not to.”

  Major Donner kept his smile in place. “You don’t have to convince me. I’m just telling you that men who serve with me won’t be going to the base. Ever. We’re going to…promote ourselves, to free contractors.”

  No one spoke, confused to hear such talk from someone with so much authority.

  Major Donner waved toward the serene mountains. “That’s where I’m going first. It is the safest shelter and after I take over that camp, I’ll have supplies, livestock, and females. Maybe even a few powerful slaves to keep Uncle Sam off my ass.”

  Now there was complete shock, exactly what Donner needed in this uneasy moment, and he looked to Phil
ips “You with me? They plan to send you off to Mexico to be lackey there. One way ticket, I hear.”

  Philips felt rage grow thicker in his heart. “Free contractor sounds pretty good.”

  His choice confirmed, Philips was surprised when other soldiers began giving their agreement. It was as if they’d followed his choice. Philips hid a frown. It was the intimidating man next to him that they were responding to. Pretending he had their loyalty could get him killed and Philips wasn’t going to let that happen. Not after everything he’d already suffered.

  Sergeant shilling felt his power slipping as men in his little group agreed with Philips, and he snarled in defiance of the change of leadership. “This is my team! My men! And we’re not following you anywhere!”

  The ten men came forward despite their true feelings, as Philips had known they would, and that wise man got out of the line of fire, sure he was about to witness Donner murdered.

  Ready, the Major jerked his rifle upward and began firing.

  Soldiers scattered, some reaching for weapons still in holsters, but the element of surprise gave victory to the lone man and the hot machine in his hand. He mowed down the entire group.

  The nearest witnesses fled, while the rest observed in shock. None of them had ever seen their commanding officer do that before the war and if he had wanted to, Donner could have wiped out nearly a hundred gaping lemmings.

  Instead, he deftly slung the rifle over his shoulder and headed toward the largest tent. “Is that the Mess? I’m starved.”

  Philips waited for the other soldiers to attack the crazy Butcher or at least protest, but the shifting, eager faces said that wasn’t going to happen unless a spark was tossed.

  Philips thought about it, but in the end, knowing his planned future tipped it in Major Donner’s favor. Philips limped after the man, getting his notebook and pen ready.