Alpha

He grins. He points at Mom.

Up go with them.

Dana starts to get up. I go.

The grin gets bigger. Sit down. He looks at Mom again, motions with the gun in his hand for her to get to her feet. Up now.

Mom looks at Dana, at Athena, and her expression is nothing Athena can recognize, so beyond anything she has ever experienced from her mother that it takes her a moment before she can name it. Fear, yes, but that has faded in the face of this, and it is the look of someone who is helpless, who doesn’t know what else she can do.

She lets go of Athena’s hand, starts to rise.

“No!” Athena feels herself say, pulling on her mom’s arm, trying to draw her back down, trying to get up with her. “No no no!”

Vladimir starts to come forward, and Mom shouts something to him, and he stops. She’s on her feet, Athena standing with her, still holding onto her arm. She can feel the tears again trying to push their way free, and she shakes her head, repeating herself over and over again until Mom is facing her, bringing her hands in close to her chest.

Dad comes, Mom signs. Dad comes soon.

Athena silences herself, feels her lips trembling. Feels an ache in her breast and the pressure behind her eyes. She signs quickly.

Mom please mom no go please.

All okay Dad comes soon all okay.

Vladimir puts his hand on Mom’s shoulder.

Love you.

Vladimir pulls Mom away, then pushes her to where the two men are gathering the other half of the group. Mom and the family and Xi-Xi together. Vladimir motions to them, says something that Athena can’t see. One of the other men goes to the door, pushes it open slowly, peering out. Then they’re all moving, being shepherded out the door, and Mom is looking back. From the way her mouth is moving, Athena knows that she’s mouthing the words instead of speaking them.

It’ll be all right baby, she mouths. It’ll be all right Daddy is coming Daddy is coming.

Then she’s gone, and Vladimir turns back to Athena.

And he smiles.

Chapter Seventeen

Chain cracks the service door on the east exterior wall of Valiant Keep while Bell covers their rear, his weapon in both hands, constant scan of overwatch. But there’s been nothing, no movement, no contacts since the four hostiles they burned on the bridge. Bell’s counted the cameras as they’ve made their way, thought about dumping a round into every one he saw, but two things speak against that tactic.

First, as of this moment, ammunition is precious.

Second, he wants his command post back, and there’s no point in reclaiming it only to be blind.

“Clear,” Chain says, and slips through the doorway, pivots, gun raised, covering Bell as the larger man ducks past, into the deep shadows of the still-under-construction keep. Chain shuts the door, moves past him, motioning to be followed.

They shadow the outer wall of the keep for twenty feet, then down a short flight of faux-stonework stairs to a large “oak” door that is neither oak nor large, the actual access being concealed in its face. Again Bell covers their backs as Chain checks, motions them through.

Bell backs in, still weapon-ready, feels the sudden temperature drop that comes from moving from above ground to beneath it. He’s starting to turn when he hears the movement, feels Chain snap his weapon up, catches the glimpse of movement.

“Friendly,” Nuri says. “Buzzsaw, friendly, friendly.”

He turns to see the woman emerging from one of the side tunnels, clinging to shadow, gun in hand.

“Took you fucking long enough,” she says.

Bell and Chain move forward, holstering their weapons as Shoshana Nuri does the same. Subdued tunnel lighting makes her skin and hair seem that much darker, part of the shadows she’s been hiding in.

“We made contact,” Bell says. “Four down, no idea how many left to go. Tried raising you, no response.”

“Make it five,” she says, reaching out with her free hand first to Chain, then to Bell, dropping an earbud into each man’s palm before falling into line with them. Chain fits the bud to his left ear, stepping ahead to lead the way. “I was in your office when they hit the command post. Had to take one of them down to get out, headed straight into the tunnels.”

Bell taps the earbud he’s just fitted. “And out of coms. No reception down here.”

“No radios, no phones. No way to contact you unless I went above ground. Staying put for the moment seemed wisest.”

“No question.”

“There’s one benefit. No cameras down here.” Nuri digs into the pocket of her blazer, comes out with a broken, warped piece of plastic that she offers to him. “Take a look.”

Bell does, fragments of plastic and circuit board, with a strip that curls up and away from the underside. A cell phone, he thinks, and he holds the pieces up to one of the light fixtures for a closer examination. Maybe a plastic wrap or a bag that fused to it, melted, and there’s a cloudy, off-white film adhering to it. He hands the pieces back to Nuri.

“That how they did it?”

She nods, barely. “Think it is, at least. Cell-phone IED, inside some sort of wrapper or container holding the botulinum spoof. I could smell the plastic when I got down here, found it near one of the air-con compressors.”

“If it’s not botulinum, what is it?” Chain asks.

“It probably is botulinum, just not weaponized. Maybe derived from Botox. The toxin has seven distinct subtypes. If you’re not actually weaponizing it, just making it look like you have, it’s conceivably a relatively easy task to make something that would spoof the Spartan.”

“Easy?” Chain shakes his head. “You Company girls.”

“Relatively easy, I said.” She looks to Bell. “What do we know?”

“Minimal. They’re coordinated, and they’ve taken hostages.” He indicates the remains of the IED in her hand. “They’re resourced, and smart enough to do that and to fake weaponizing botulinum.”

Nuri makes a small noise, almost approving. “Hostages to keep the assault force at bay.”

“Big park, lots of places to hide people.”

“And by the time any team breaches and locates where they’re being held…”

“The hostages could be dead and cold.”

Chain has moved on, taking it slower now. Bell is feeling calm, methodical, and while all their guard is still up, the cool and dim of the tunnels is welcome. For the time being, at least, for these next few minutes, they all know what they need to do.

There’s a door along the west wall, and Chain unlocks it with a key he takes from around his neck. Pushes it open and reaches along the inside wall, and a weak energy-saver bulb comes to life, too-white light in the small room. Packed with merchandise awaiting the opening of the Keep, boxes labeled for posters, jackets, action figures, comic books. Chain pops his knife and slices one open, scatters a handful of T-shirts before freeing the first of their gear bags. Bell takes it as he digs out the second, and both men drop to their knees, Nuri watching, as they begin breaking out their gear.

“You cached these when, exactly?” Nuri asks.