Remington noted the gleam in Hardin’s eyes. The corporal liked the violence. During his years as a Ranger, Hardin had made it as far as corporal five times. He’d been busted down in rank each time. After getting caught robbing the dead as he had, he deserved to be broken in rank again. If it had happened during peacetime, Remington probably would have done exactly that. But here and now, with circumstances the way they were in Sanliurfa, Remington wanted Hardin in place.
“Now,” Hardin said, “y’all get moving before I have to turn plumb nasty.”
Grumbling and cursing beneath their breath, the CIA agents started moving.
“A moment, Corporal,” Remington said. He stepped in front of Cody. “Your people have been running rampant through this city. That stops. Today. Now. You keep them out of harm’s way.”
“Captain.”
Remington put his finger to his lips like he was shushing a child.
“Don’t talk. You’ll just offend Corporal Hardin and he’ll feel compelled to make you respect his commanding officer.”
Hardin grinned broadly.
“When you decide you can tell me exactly what’s going on here,” Remington said, “you come see me. Then we’ll negotiate what rights and privileges you have open to you while we’re here.”
Cody swallowed hard. His eyes flickered. He clearly didn’t like being dictated to.
“I want you to stop hunting for Icarus,” Remington commanded. “We’ll find him.”
Cody opened his mouth and started to speak.
“Bad idea,” Hardin said softly. “Bad, bad idea.”
Cody’s lips flattened and became a hard, thin line.
“Do you read me, Cody?” Remington asked.
“Yes,” Cody replied, “but—”
Hardin stepped forward and rammed his rifle butt into Cody’s midsection. The CIA man doubled over and retched. Before he could fall, Hardin caught him by the jacket collar and held him up.
“The answer’s ‘Yes, sir,’ ” Hardin said. “Or ‘Yes, Captain.’ You got that?”
Cody nodded and whispered hoarsely, “Yeah, yeah, I got that.”
“Let’s hear it,” Hardin suggested.
“Yes, sir,” Cody said.
Hardin straightened Cody up. “Good. Can you stand on your own?”
Cody nodded.
“Outstanding,” Hardin said. He released Cody and stepped back. “Sir, are we done here?”
“We’re done,” Remington said. “See to it these men are taken out; then rejoin me in this room.”
“Yes, sir.” Hardin put a hand in the middle of Cody’s back and shoved him forward.
Cody glanced back over his shoulder as he stumbled down the hallway. Hardin said something to the man and he turned his eyes forward.
Watching the agent, Remington knew he’d probably made an enemy for life. But that was fine. During his climb to his captaincy, he’d made more than a few enemies. One more wasn’t going to matter.
Turning back toward the security office, Remington caught sight of Goose standing at the other end of the hallway. Silently, the captain cursed himself. Goose had seen everything, and he could tell from the set of Goose’s body and his small frown that the first sergeant didn’t approve. Over the years, they’d butted heads several times while serving together.
You’re not looking for approval from him, Remington reminded himself when he felt a twinge of guilt over the free hand he’d given Hardin to act. When you first put on lieutenant’s bars, you stepped up past First Sergeant Goose Gander. You don’t answer to him. You never have.
“I thought I gave you an assignment, First Sergeant,” Remington said in a loud voice.
“You did, sir,” Goose responded. “On my way now. I just thought there might be a problem, sir.”
“There’s not a problem here that I can’t handle.”
“No, sir,” Goose said. “I guess there’s not. Sir.” He turned and walked away.
But you, Remington thought at Goose’s back, you’re going to turn out to be a problem, aren’t you, Goose? The captain took in a deep breath and released it.
Normally during situations of high stress, he and Goose remained on the same page, reading each other’s thoughts. That was why Remington had temporarily bumped Goose up to the unofficial role of second in command of the unit during the Sanliurfa occupation.
But the Icarus issue had divided them. Remington didn’t know how that had happened, but he knew it had. It remained to be seen how big a rift that issue put between them.
Gathering his thoughts, Remington turned and faced the CIA agent, Winters, in the security room. Defeat colored the man’s face. Watching his superior get manhandled so easily hadn’t generated any feelings of confidence about his current state.
Remington strode into the room and stopped in front of the man.
“Winters, is it?”
The CIA agent nodded.
“I’m going to conduct an interview, Winters,” Remington said. “I’m going to ask questions, and you’re going to answer them.”
Winters licked his lips. “If I can.”
Remington regarded the man. “If you can’t, Mr. Winters, neither of us is going to be happy about that.”
United States of America
Columbus, Georgia
Local Time 2249 Hours
Guilt hammered at Joey as he gazed around the room with new understanding. They weren’t supposed to be there. They hadn’t been invited. They were trespassing. If the police caught them, they would go to jail. That thought filled him with cold fear. He couldn’t believe Derrick and the others could sit there so calmly.
“You weren’t really of this world when you got here, were you?” Zero asked in a soft voice. His gaze remained riveted on Joey.
“Didn’t remember breaking in,” Joey admitted.
Zero shrugged but maintained eye contact under the stark ridge of brow over his blade of a nose. “Lotta people ain’t home now, Joey. Got a lotta places we can go that nobody needs any more.”
“The police—”
“The police,” Zero said in a harsher voice, “aren’t a problem. You think they’re going to leave the supermarkets and gasoline-storage areas and airports to come looking for guys smart enough to find themselves a place to stay during all the chaos going on out there?”
“Especially teenagers.” Bones took another drink from the bottle. “We got a right to find food and shelter for ourselves. And we ain’t hurt nobody.”
“The people who lived here,” Zero said, “don’t need this home anymore. We
