Enemy One (Epic Book 5) (94 page)

“Fire your gun, soldier!”
Turning away from Mark as he flinched back, Natalie shot a look to Becan from several trees over. “McCrae!” The Irishman looked her way. “We have a problem!”

*
      
*
      
*

Combat boots resounded in unison as the whole of the V2’s fighting force touched down, their rhythmic trot down the rear bay door a total contrast to the dynamic splashing of rain and cracking of thunder. At the front of the procession, Lieutenant Chiumbo Okayo barked orders for the strike team to spread out. Intermingled with them were Marty Breaux, Sasha Kireev, Lisa Tiffin, and Pablo Quintana. The four Vector operatives hit the mud with their weapons raised, clustering together as soon as all troops were outside to wait for their specific orders.

Marching down the ramp side-by-side and looking more in sync now than at any previous point in their mission were Leonid Torokin and Logan Marshall. The Australian ex-mercenary looked nothing short of enraged, staring into the downpour in the direction from which Todd Kenner was supposedly approaching. Torokin, having forsaken his judge’s garb for his old set of Vector battle armor, looked equally agitated. No sooner had they set foot in the mire than Kenner appeared, shoving a drenched Scott toward the two men.

Logan wasted no time. Face twisting in rage, he stepped swiftly in Scott’s direction, slamming his fist across Scott’s jaw so squarely that it dropped the outlaw leader like a sack of bricks.

Before the Australian could strike again, he was grabbed from behind by Torokin as Kenner quickly stepped between him and Scott. Groaning woozily from the ground and unable to stand, Scott pressed his forehead into the mud then rolled over.
“What the hell did you do with Natalie?”
Logan bellowed.

“Enough!” Stepping between the two adversaries, Torokin held his palm out to block the Australian from attacking again. “We have him! That is what we were tasked to do.”

Beneath his visor, Logan was red with fury. “I’m going to knock your
vecking
teeth out,” he said to Scott, sucking in and spitting across the ramp in Scott’s direction.

Turning his focus from Logan to Kenner, Torokin’s own expression narrowed angrily. “What are you doing here? How did you know this operation was taking place?”

“How do you think?” the deep-voiced redneck answered.

“Klaus,” Torokin snarled. “
He
told you. How did you even get here?”

Wiping back his soaked locks, Kenner answered, “I took a train.”

“Bigger fish to fry, y’all!” The declaration came from Marty, who was still clustered with Sasha, Lisa, and Pablo and waiting for orders.

Glaring at Kenner, Torokin pointed at Scott. “Put him in the transport and watch him. Your involvement with this operation is over.”

As Kenner yanked Scott to his feet and shoved him inside the ship, Torokin approached Logan and the others. “The outlaws are split into two groups, one heading east-southeast and one following the train north-northeast. They are not organized.” He looked at Logan, Marty, and Sasha. “I want the three of you to head straight east and surpass Chiumbo’s strike force. Curl around and intercept the east-southeast-bound outlaws. Use your speed—
go
!” Casting one another a glance, the three men set off into the storm.

“Lisa, our secondary forces are landing to the north and will cut off the outlaws following the train. When the outlaws turn back around, I want you waiting for them.”

“Prisoners, sir?” the sniper from Essex asked.

Behind his visor, Torokin’s eyes narrowed. “We have the only prisoner we need.”

Lisa nodded. “Understood.”

As the sniper took off on her own, Torokin’s focus shifted to Pablo. “Get on the comm and make contact with every Japanese law enforcement agency on the peninsula. When the outlaws run out of forest, I want them to hit a wall of flashing lights.”

Offering a thumbs-up, Pablo knelt down to do as told.

It was coming together—the round-up of the outlaws. Remington had already been bagged. All the rest of them needed to do was fall. Clasping his hands behind his back as he stood beneath the torrent, Torokin lowered his chin and waited for the first update to come.

Shoving Scott down at the front corner of the V2, Kenner withdrew a handcuff, securing one end to Scott’s wrist and the other to a guard rail in the troop bay. Settling down against the wall opposite him, he kept quiet, stone cold vigil.

From the cockpit, his own voice subdued, Minh said simply, “Hello, Todd.”

“Hello, Minh,” the former Vector stoically replied.

From the cockpit radio, a new American voice crackled through—one as frigid and unsympathetic as the weather itself. “There are no more airborne threats here. Breaking to intercept Feathers.”

“Affirmative,” Minh answered with resignation. “Vector wishes you luck.”

From his temporary prison attached to the guard rail, Scott closed his eyes. His shoulders sagging, the beaten fulcrum lowered his head.

*
      
*
      
*

“We need to double back!” sputtered Esther, sliding to a stop in the mud just alongside the train. Turning to face Jayden behind her, she said, “If the rest of them had gone this way, we’d have met them by now!”

“I could’a swore I saw one of ’em boltin’ this way,” Jayden said.

Esther shook her head adamantly. “Then you must’ve seen a ghost.” Whipping her head to the side, she called out to Tom and Pyotr. “You two! Get over here!” Lagging far behind but doing her best to keep up, Ju`bajai trudged exhaustedly toward them, too. As soon as Esther saw the alien, she gave it her attention. “Can you pick up
anything
? Can you connect us to anyone from the other team?”

Without a word, the Ithini slumped to her knees. She was thoroughly enervated.

“Fan-sodding-tastic,” Esther said. “One of you two is going to have to carry her.” Her eyes focused on Tom. “You’re a strapper. Pick her up.”

“Look,” Tom said, “I don’t—”

The scout cut him off sharply.
“I said pick her the bloody hell up!”

Grumbling, Tom did as told.

In the midst of Esther’s commands, Jayden pointed to the sky far ahead of her. “Look!” The group’s focus collectively turned, where the spotlight of a second V2 split through the rain.

“Veck!” Esther pointed to the woods. “Everyone, go! Get in the woods!”

Ju`bajai’s voice, frayed and frazzled, entered Esther’s mind as the group ran into the forest.
Someone is approaching from the other side of the train.

Slip-sliding to a halt, Esther turned and knelt low to the ground, straining to see the train. “Is it someone from the ground op team?”

“What?” Jayden asked, slowing to regard her.

“Shh!”

The Ithini’s voice came again.
I am attempting to identify. It is difficult. I am sorry.

“I know you’re tired, sprite. I believe in you. Give me something.”

It is a female. She is unfamiliar. Attempting to…
A brief pause came, followed by a small swell of understanding.
She is as Jayden.

Looking back confusedly, Esther simply asked, “What?”

She is a sniper.

“A
sniper
?” A moment later, the scout’s arched eyebrow narrowed. Turning her head slowly back to the train, she asked, “How much can you tell me about this sniper?”

A growing sensation of fatigue throbbed in the connection.
I am trying.

“Is she a Vector?”

Listening intently to the one-sided conversation, Jayden knelt down beside Esther.

All the while Esther waited, her simmering glare held steadfastly on the train ahead of her. Even as loose strands of hair escaped the protection of her helmet and slid down over her eyes, she made no effort to move them. Her breathing grew slower—more concentrated. In stark contrast, with every passing second, her heart beat harder.

She identifies as a Vector.
The fatigue won over. A wave of defeat washed over the connection.
I can delve no deeper. I am weakened.

“You’ve told me enough,” Esther said.

As the scout rose to her feet, Jayden addressed her from behind. “Hey, what are you doin’? If someone is comin’, shouldn’t we be goin’ the opposite way?”

“Not this time,” answered Esther quietly. Shouldering her assault rifle and taking out her pistol, the scout looked back at her husband with fury. “That’s the sniper from Vector.”

The Texan blinked. “From Vector? Why does that…” His mouth opening in revelation, he finished the statement despite the lack of necessity to. “…matter.”

“You know precisely why it matters.”

After hesitating for a moment, Jayden reached out for her. “Don’t do it, baby. She might have been the one to kill Travis, but that doesn’t mean it was her fault. What if she was just doin’ what she thought was right?”

The scout’s eyes narrowed. “Then she’s about to learn how wrong she was.” Looking past him to Tom, Pyotr, and Ju`bajai, she pointed. “Go! Head back toward the site and try to find the rest of the team.” Turning her head back toward the train, she dipped her chin and glared. “This’ll only take a bit.”

*
      
*
      
*

With every second that passed, Natalie found herself and her comrades that much closer to being overwhelmed by the approaching EDEN force. The only saving grace they had was that the group of attackers engaging them seemed to consist of the survivors of the train crash, equally battered and bruised as the ones they were pursuing. Just the same, it was a game of numbers—and Natalie’s side was outnumbered.

“We’ve got to find Remmy!” Becan shouted over the cacophony of hard rain and weapons fire.

Remington. Even in the middle of an all-out firefight, he was prevalent in Natalie’s mind. He’d been right. About EDEN’s intent, about the compromises they’d been willing to make to keep this, whatever it was, silent. That man—Mendoza—would have killed them. That might not have been all too surprising in regards to herself and the Falcons, all of whom by their very presence on the operation had called their allegiance into question. But Mark? He was a boy. Of everyone in that train car, he was the only one whose innocence was wholly assured. Yet he was in their crosshairs just like everyone else. None of them, innocent or not, were meant to make it out alive. That wasn’t what EDEN was supposed to be about. Questionable means or not, Scott had been dead-on about EDEN’s ill-intent. Wherever he was, they
had
to go find him.

She
had to.

Natalie had been the one entrusted as second-in-command by Scott. Even knowing that she could have turned on them all, he gave her that opportunity to see the light for herself. To lead. This was the only way she knew how to. “Everyone, fall back!”

“If yeh think for one second, woman, tha’ I’m leavin’ Remmy behind, you’ve lost your bleedin’ marbles!” said Becan.

Leave Scott behind? Not a chance. “I’m going after Remington. The rest of you,
go
!”

Behind his faceless helmet, the Irishman blinked. “Wha’?”

“Go!”
The Caracal captain pointed off in the direction they’d been heading. “I can slip through them by myself. I want the rest of you gone—that’s an order.” While Becan stared at her in silence, she whipped her head to Lilan. “Colonel, you have command.”

With resignation, the injured veteran addressed her. “Good luck, captain. Find Remington, then get your tail back to us, pronto.”

“I intend to.” Ducking back as a stream of weapons fire trained her way, Natalie wiped bits of tree bark off her face and scanned the forest. There was one spot in particular—one small spot out to the southwest—where no orange flashes emanated. Her window to rescue Scott was right there. Sucking in a breath, she waited for the slayers to lay down heavy suppression before darting from the safety of the tree she’d been covering behind, sprinting as quickly as she could across the wet forest floor.

Seconds later, Lilan took command. “All right, everyone! Fall back—and draw some of ’em after us while you’re at it. Let’s give Miss Rockwell some room to work!”

Falling back in unison, the decimated team kept their fingers on the triggers, moving deftly from one tree to the next as EDEN’s bullets nipped at their heels. Except for one soldier, whose viridian eyes stayed locked on Natalie until she disappeared into the storm.

On the other side of the battlefield, mixed in with the survivors of the train crash in their pursuit of the Falcons and Fourteenth, yet another individual caught sight of the sprinting captain. Someone trained to keep tabs on every member of the opposition, be they distant, or very, very close. Someone trained to isolate and kill.

And eager to add a second captain to his belt.

*
      
*
      
*

One hand in front of the other, one foot cautious yet quick up the side of the train car. Such was the pace of Lisa Tiffin as she scaled the two-level train car. The Vector sniper had been moving parallel with the retreating outlaws as they followed the train track through the peninsula. The fact that the train had stopped was beneficial. It gave her a place to find height that didn’t require scaling a tree in a frigid, blasting rain shower. Placing her gloved hands on the rim of the car, she propelled herself upward with a final leap, coming to a slippery rest on the top. Unshouldering her sniper rifle, she raised it to her visor and scanned the tree line as best she was able.

Sniping in the rain was never the preference of a sniper—but desperate times called for desperate measures. Retracting her visor, Lisa closed one eye and pressed the other to her scope.

She could see them through her sniper rifle’s infrared. Though diminished in the downpour, their heat signatures were still easily detectable in contrast to the cold. Two soldiers and…

…and an Ithini. It was right there, retreating alongside the two men in Nightman armor. The smaller size of its heat signature was unmistakable. Steadying her breath, Lisa guided the reticule over the back of the alien’s head.