“Frags got ’em,” Winters says. “What now? Another door.”
“Bring up the slicer kit,” I say. “We’ll lock it tight and move on.”
“Roger,” says Easy, who runs to retrieve it from Lana and returns a few seconds later.
“Alpha One, we’re about two minutes out,” I say, figuring Hopper would want updates.
“Hurry!” comes the reply.
I’m about to tell him to hang on when Surber’s voice comes over the comm. “Carter. I’m showing your team’s location as just outside Alpha Target Three.”
I don’t have any idea where Alpha Target Three is supposed to be. No one saw fit to tell me that part of the plan. But before I can answer, Winters chimes in. “Affirmative. We’re at the target.”
Surber runs with the confirmation. “You are to breach the door and neutralize the target. Immediately.”
I shake my head, aware of the dark looks on Easy and Lash. “Mister Surber, all due respect, but Alpha Team—”
“Right-kelhorned-now!” Surber shouts in my ear.
There’s a boom and the temple shakes. Dust sprinkles down around us.
“Carter,” Winters says, grabbing my shoulder. “We have to take this room. Even if it means all of Alpha gets dusted.”
What. In. The. Hell.
15
The small arms fire in the front of the compound is thick. As loud as most battles I’ve witnessed. The koobs and zhee are fighting it out while Alpha and Bravo teams work the temple itself.
Except only my team has made it through our objectives. And what we should be doing is moving to relieve Alpha. Only… things just got complicated.
“Winters,” I say, trying to use my keep calm voice, “I need you to explain to me just what you and Surber decided while the rest of us were guarding a bunch of dead koobs, and I need you to explain it two kelhorned hours ago.”
Everyone is sending blaster bolts at the kid with their eyes. Second-guessing every time he corrected or steered course in the past—like using bots at cleanup, or not torching the barracks. It’s obvious that Winters has some kind of inside knowledge of what’s happening. And it isn’t sitting well with the mercenaries who put their lives partially in his trust as a squad mate.
Lashley steps up. He doesn’t lay a hand on the kid as he towers over him, but the shadow he casts over Winters brings with it a forecast of the sort of destruction the big man could bring if he chose to raise hands. “You best answer Carter,” the big man rumbles.
Winters holds an arm out like he doesn’t know what to say. His other hand is still on his blaster rifle, but no finger on the trigger. “Look, guys,” he begins.
Lash is undeterred. “You can’t wave this away.”
Lana is still watching the door, but otherwise all eyes are on the kid. He looks at me, hopefully. “Carter…”
“I want the answer, too,” I say.
“For real,” pitches in Easy. “What? You some kinda spy for Surber? Watchin’ us?”
“Carter…” Winters tries again.
I cross my arms and then drop them just as quickly. “We don’t have time for this. Alpha Team needs us and we’re moving. Let’s go.”
We all turn to move. The sounds of the fighting at the front of the temple compound and off in the distance where Hopper and his team were held up still sound muffled by the thick stone—but it’s all close enough.
“Guys. You can’t leave.”
I half expect to see Winters aiming his rifle at us when I turn around. His voice has that much resolve. But instead I see him pulling off his helmet. I’ve seen the kid a few times without his bucket. Not much, but enough to have the impression that he’s still south of thirty. He still looks young but I don’t know how to explain it other than to say he’s old-young. Not a word, I know.
His face is free of wrinkles and covered in sweat. His wet hair is matted down on his forehead—these aftermarket helmets don’t touch Legion tech. But there’s a commanding presence to him that I sure as hell don’t remember seeing before. Like he’s the one in charge.
“We have to get this room secured first,” Winters says. “Surber is going to bust in on comms and order it inside a minute.”
“That so?” I ask, annoyed at the way the kid is trying to tell me what to do.
And that’s what it really boils down to.
Pride. Annoyance.
I’ve been on critical missions that have forced me to leave good men to die in order to secure an objective bigger than the fights our squads found ourselves in. I didn’t like it, but I understood it.
But this isn’t that. This is all the frustration at home and with Surber and even with being the afterthought team while Hopper is entrusted with the KTF jobs. It’s all of that plus some wannabe merc on my team trying to make decisions for me.
“Carter.”
It’s Surber. And I knew it would be.
“Go for Carter,” I say.
Lash and Easy swear under their breath on hearing my voice. I think they were holding out hope that Winters was bluffing. I don’t think they saw what I saw in the man when he took his helmet off. An authority which ought not have been there but was.
“You need to secure Alpha Objective Three. Immediately.”
I have a good job. I make good credits. And I should do what I’m told. But this doesn’t sit well with me. “Hopper’s team needs relief.”
“It can wait.”
“All due respect—”
“It. Can. Wait, Carter.”
Suddenly Winters is on the comm. Just jumping into my command channel like it wasn’t blocked and encrypted. He’s pulling the comm set down from his helmet to speak, so I can still see his face.
“Surber,” the kid says, “I’m going to let them in. We’ll have AT3
