Parallel Heat (34 page)

Lying back on the cot, it seemed best to try and grab a bit of sleep. No telling when he’d have the opportunity again, and often when he dreamed, All gave him visions. Inspirations. Strategies, too, and that was what he most needed to break out Scott Dillon.

 
Nevin Daniels eyed Thea curiously; the thoughtful man was never given to explosive outbursts, no matter how perilous the military situation. Likewise, Sabrina sat across the table, her face a mask of calm reserve; it seemed the Circle leader rarely revealed emotion.

Jared, on the other hand, rested both hands on the meeting table, his eyes blazing in expectation. Kelsey had assumed the seat beside him, waiting with bright, curious eyes of her own. Thea noted that her queen had a remarkable gift for supporting, even as she always steered her own path. It was the perfect balance for Jared, and that thought didn’t annoy or upset Thea. They needed Kelsey’s wise, confident counsel in their midst.

Thea drew in a quick breath, glanced eagerly between the gathered leaders, and began. ‘‘I spent time in meditation with the letter,’’ she stated quickly. ‘‘Commander, it is paramount that we take offensive action against the Antousians immediately.’’

‘‘I have the ready fighters in place. Right now, our enemies are not on radar. Could be their stealth capacity, but we usually find our way around that.’’

The Antousians’ fighters and craft were nowhere near as stealthy as the Refarians’ were. One advantage that usually played to their benefit.

‘‘Sir, what I saw with my intuition’’—she paused, wanting to blurt everything at once, but knew she had to frame it in an orderly manner—‘‘we’ve been thinking about their strategy all wrong. It’s not the missiles they want to target and take out—it’s gaining control of them.’’

‘‘Control how?’’ Jared asked evenly, his black eyebrows quirking together in concern. ‘‘Those silos are buried under one hundred tons of concrete each; if they take them out, they won’t be operable.’’

‘‘They plan to seize control of Warren, Commander, by launching a full-grade attack on the base itself. That’s how they’ll get control over the missile alert facilities—the MAFs. There are a number of launch facilities near to the base—within driving distance. That’s what they did in that other timeline! Seized control over three launch facilities.’’

‘‘Wait, hold up, Lieutenant,’’ Nevin interjected. ‘‘Explain what you mean by this other timeline.’’

‘‘We have a letter that clearly indicates that the mitres was used to travel back from the future,’’ Jared explained, staring at a stilled overhead projection of a set of missile silos in Nebraska. It had been taken by one of their own pilots, who had tracked the Antousians’ flight pattern from earlier in the day. ‘‘We now know that there is an alternate timeline, a parallel reality if you will, where events transpired differently. That’s why I asked Thea to intuit what she could about that alternate course of events.’’

Thea ran both hands down the length of her braid, working to still her extreme agitation. ‘‘What I saw was horrific. It’s not the silos like we think, at least not in the way we’re thinking about it. If not stopped, Commander, they will attack Warren, firestorm it, air bomb it, and take full control of it—including the nearby missile alert facilities. They plan to strike New York, London, and Washington, DC. Earth will be left as a decimated shadow, allowing the Antousians to harvest at will.’’

Kelsey gasped. ‘‘My father is in DC,’’ she told them. ‘‘Earth? Everyone? What do they plan to harvest? I don’t understand.’’

Thea felt compassion well up within her. She’d lost almost everything to the brutal bastards; why should Earth now pay as well? It was frighteningly easy to understand exactly what Kelsey was feeling.

But it was Jared who answered her question in a quiet, controlled way. ‘‘They need humans,’’ he told her vaguely. ‘‘Think of them as parasites who need host bodies. That’s the simplest way to put it.’’

‘‘Taking control of that base and its MAFs would enable them to hold Earth hostage,’’ Nevin added seriously, making quick notes on his handheld.

For many long moments, no one spoke, each of them stunned into silence; every officer plotting strategy, considering options. ‘‘Gods in heaven,’’ Jared finally cried, rising to his feet, ‘‘how do we stop it? Dillon is there, surely there must be some way to reach him.’’ No one needed to state that in the past days none of them had figured a way to get through to the lieutenant. But Thea did have a plan.

‘‘I don’t think he’s the only one of ours there on base, sir,’’ Thea admitted quietly.

‘‘Explain.’’ Jared waved her on, settling back into his chair.

‘‘They have Marco too, sir,’’ she replied.

 
Sabrina’s brown eyes locked with hers. ‘‘You saw him only hours ago.’’

‘‘
And
I saw a lot of things while in my trance state. He went with them willingly . . . after I left the bar.’’

Jared leaned back in his seat, scowling. ‘‘So this means we have to get through to one of them, somehow. Dillon or McKinley, those are our choices—assuming they can get the Air Force to listen at all.’’

‘‘We’ll obviously launch a counterstrike against them, Commander, to protect the base.’’

‘‘I can reach Marco,’’ Thea told him quietly. ‘‘At least, I think I can.’’

‘‘How?’’ It was a group question, voiced simultaneously. All eyes were riveted on her.

Thea hesitated, but she had no time for awkwardness. ‘‘Marco and I aren’t mated, at least not yet, but we’ve come very close. Give me a shot; I think I can reach him.’’

Chapter Twenty-two

Marco slept, or something approximating it, slipping in and out of a troubled dream state. There was commotion in the hallway, then quiet again, overlaid by the sound of muted voices, and that woke him briefly. Overall it was almost impossible to catch a few winks when he wondered what his captors had planned for him. He kept his eyes closed, determined to fuel his strength by getting as much rest as he could before someone came for him.

He told himself he was dreaming when Thea’s wavering image appeared in his cell. She stood beside his bed dressed only in a royal gown of light blue that was gauzy and fit her scantily, revealing the ripe curves of her full bosom. Clinging to her hips in a provocative vision of a world that once was—of palaces and kings and princesses like herself—the lusty dream aroused him powerfully. Laughing at his dream-addled mind, he decided to go with the erotic fantasy.

Sitting up on the cot, he gained a better view of her luscious body. She took another step closer and he realized the gown was backless, revealing inches of bare, delicious skin. He yearned to lick her from head to toe, sniffing all that bare skin even as he tasted it. His breathing grew unsteady, his pulse skittered. ‘‘That’s a helluva a uniform, baby.’’ He laughed huskily.

She glanced downward in surprise, blushing furiously, and dropped onto the edge of his bed. ‘‘Apparently it’s what my subconscious came up with,’’ she agreed with a shy laugh. ‘‘Maybe I’m tired of uniforms all the time.’’

He leaned back into his pillow, studying her. ‘‘I like it. No, scratch that,’’ he amended. ‘‘I
love
it. Gods in heaven, you’re gorgeous. I guess I’m dead, huh? That it? You’re my vision of heaven?’’

She smiled, bending over him with a slow, arduous kiss. She angled her mouth over his, lingering with her lips against his for a long moment, then traced her tongue across his lips. ‘‘You’re asleep and I’ve come to warn you, Marco. The Antousians are planning to storm the base. You are at Warren, aren’t you?’’

‘‘Yes, they came for me after you left the bar.’’

‘‘You’ve got to get them to listen, Marco.’’

Her words were at total odds with the seductive way she’d appeared. But he didn’t question the incongruity, and neither did she, it seemed. ‘‘So you’re warning me dressed like a royal siren?’’ he asked roughly. ‘‘All business, aren’t you, wildcat?’’

There would be time for war and bloodshed another day—right now he only yearned for one thing—to mate with Thea. To pull her down atop him, strip her free from the confines of that gown, and claim her at last. Make her one with him. Tie them together for all eternity, and let duty and honor be damned.
She’s mine
, an inner voice growled.
She’s always been mine!

A slow smile spread across Thea’s face, and she wound her fingers through her loose, curling hair. ‘‘You wore it down for me,’’ he observed, cocking an eyebrow suggestively.

‘‘I want you. You know how much I want you.’’ She slipped a shoulder strap free, allowing the dress to fall loose. He caught a glimpse of her warm flesh, begging to be stroked by his hands.

Sucking in a desperate breath, he gazed upon her. ‘‘This has nothing to do with our enemies,’’ he said, leaning up on his elbows. ‘‘What are you really doing here, Thea? Warning me or preparing to become my lifemate?’’

A gleam appeared in her azure gaze; the other shoulder strap popped free, allowing the dress to crumple low about her waist. ‘‘Both, love. We’re out of time.’’

She leaned over him, pushing him down into the mattress with the weight of her body. Planting both hands beside his head so that she was suspended over him, she forced him beneath her lithe body. Her breath was hot, real.

‘‘What about Scott?’’ she breathed, sniffing of his scent, yet keeping him pinned beneath her in an almost predatory manner.

‘‘I-I think he’s in the cell next to mine, can’t be sure,’’ Marco stammered, scenting her in return. He broke into a delirious laugh, looping his arms about her. ‘‘Baby, what’s really happening?’’

‘‘I’m in a trance state,’’ she explained, finally releasing him and sitting up. Suddenly, she grew serious, the flirtation gone. ‘‘I thought I could reach you—turns out I was right.’’

‘‘Hell, yeah,’’ he agreed with a needy growl. ‘‘More than right.’’

‘‘Listen to me, Marco,’’ she told him intently, no longer pursuing him. ‘‘We don’t have much time; no telling how long I can maintain this. You have to find a way to convince those in charge there that the Antousians plan to attack the base. We’re not sure when, but soon. It’s got to be imminent. They intend to take charge of the missile launch controls and use them against Earth.’’

He stared at her seriously, assessing her—still not quite believing she wasn’t simply a dream. ‘‘They’ve stuck me in this hole and never returned. I can’t warn them this way.’’

She glanced toward the holding-room entry. ‘‘Then go knock on the door and demand to speak to the officer in charge. Something, Marco. Anything! But fight, damn it!’’

He sat up in bed, taking hold of her shoulders. Suddenly the beautiful gown had transformed into her uniform, all trappings of seduction replaced by her full military presence. ‘‘This is real,’’ he said, finally knowing that it wasn’t a mere dream.

She gave a brisk nod. ‘‘I wish that it weren’t. Well, all except the part where I’m here with you. Obviously my subconscious mind is focused on less serious things,’’ she admitted throatily.

The vision wavered slightly, threatening to break their temporary hold on one another. And Marco made a fateful, determined decision—the only one he could make, at least if he hoped to remain in contact with Jared and the others back at camp. ‘‘Thea, we have to take action fast,’’ he replied abruptly. ‘‘Together. We no longer have a choice.’’

‘‘About what?’’ She tilted her gorgeous face upward, looking into his eyes, and it caused his heart to thunder in his chest.

‘‘We have to mate.’’

 
Hope sat cross-legged on her small bed, laptop poised on her knees. Her hot keys enabled her to feel the keypad beneath her fingertips, marked as they were in Braille, though she was still awkward with the markings. But she’d been a remarkably fast typist for years now; you couldn’t make a living transcribing intercepts and interviews otherwise, and she relied on the Braille markings very little. Her laptop was outfitted with tools to help her—voice activation, audio features. She kept a journal in Word, something she once maintained in small, bound diaries until she’d begun to lose her sight.

I don’t know how to get the colonel to listen,
she typed.
I’m only a linguist. A woman he dismisses as half-blind and useful just to a point. How do I get him to trust Scott?

She paused, wishing she could have just five minutes alone with her twin. She’d been told he was here on the base, too, but had yet to see him. Typical compartmentalization, at work once again, but she still wondered what his role in the whole affair was.

Shoving the laptop aside, she rose from her bed and began to pace the small quarters where she stayed between interrogation sessions. Outside in the hallway, armed guards stood, making a show of protecting her. The truth was, they were preventing her from taking any unsupervised actions.

Counting her paces across the room, she reached the small bathroom. As she bent over the sink, splashing water on her face, something rocked the barracks like a full-force earthquake. Immediately everything went black, robbing her of the remnants of her eyesight. Another explosive blast drove her to her knees; she was totally blind in the darkness. There was the instant smell of explosives, fumes. Hope felt across the floor with her hands, sweeping them in an arc around her. She knew where the bathtub was—she just had to get to it. If the barracks were under some sort of attack, as it seemed they were, the porcelain tub would be the safest place to survive any further blasts.

Her heart slammed in her chest, and with the whizzing sound of mortar fire and rockets outside, she catapulted herself into the bottom of the tub, covering her head.

 
‘‘We can’t mate, not in this trance state,’’ Thea objected.

Marco gave her a wolfish grin. ‘‘You’re the one who suggested it first.’’

‘‘I can’t be held responsible for what my subconscious wants!’’

‘‘But
you
want it, and you’ve told me so repeatedly.’’