38. Oliver
CHAPTER 38
OLIVER
F or the next hour, I try to focus on our plans to hit the next facility, but forest green eyes continuously shatter any hope of concentration. Guilt about leaving her behind is eating at me. Damn it. I haven’t found a solution that will guarantee her safety yet. She needs to be protected from that monster Hightower.
Quaid shifts restlessly beside me. “She’s going to run. I’m telling you. Why would she ask for the go bag? I can’t believe you gave it to her.” His amber eyes stare at me accusingly.
“Where would she go? There’s nothing for miles around,” I remind him. “She’s just on edge after seeing the captives today. It’s a hard reality to accept.” Even for hardened soldiers like us, the torture endured by those captives was tough to see. I look around the room and note the stoic determination on everyone’s faces. We’re more committed than ever to this path we’ve chosen.
I rub a hand across my chest. Why do I feel hollow inside? As if I’m missing something or making the wrong call? Quaid shifts next to me, bringing his hand to his chest too. I frown. Did we ingest something in the air at the Raven facility? I wouldn’t put it past that bastard Hightower.
“You feel okay?” I ask Quaid.
“No, I’m irritated as hell at you,” he replies shortly. “Why?”
“Something is off,” I tell him, looking around at everyone else. Their attention is completely focused on Captain Walker as she outlines the plan she’s devised for the next attack. None of them are rubbing their chests. “Don’t you feel it?”
His hand stills. “It’s her. She’s gone.” With a curse, he strides out the door.
Surely she wouldn’t be so rash. Where could she go that’s safe? Did River tell her about a place? I hurry to catch up with Quaid.
“The sun set over an hour ago. Her room,” I tell him, watching him pivot away from the walkway leading to the bench and back to the dorms.
Instead of knocking, he pulls out the master key he keeps with him. Normally, I’d protest, but every inch of my gut is screaming. He thrusts open the door and stands there, taking in the room.
I step in and frown. Were we wrong? Feeling slightly stupid, I rifle through the clothes hanging in the closet. Two sets. Standard issue for every rescue is three, which means she’s wearing one. Everything else seems in order. I move to the bathroom. Shampoo and conditioner in the shower. Soap is gone. So is her toothbrush.
Quaid curses, and I return to the bedroom. “She left a note. Addressed to you.” His voice is gruff as he hands it to me and paces back and forth. “I’m calling Nash.”
Oliver,
Please don’t blame River. He begged me to stay here, but I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if I did. By saving me, he put his family at risk. As an orphan, I can’t bear the thought of his family paying the ultimate price. Families deserve to be together. Seeing those captives today brought home the reality of what they’re facing, and I can’t bear the thought of safety while they remain in Raven’s grasp. I hope we make it back here, to the safety you’ve promised, but if I don’t, forgive me.
Thank you for everything,
Greer
“Damn it. Lionel put her in my care, and I fucked up,” I curse, closing my eyes for a second to think. Failure is not an option. “Nash. What did he say?” I could hear Quaid talking on the phone while I was reading the note.
“Actually, he was just about to call you. I believe you asked him to track River’s movements for the last two years. It took a while. River frequently changes his appearance, but once the software concentrated on the one feature he didn’t change, he was able to connect the dots,” Quaid states with satisfaction.
“His eyes,” I pick up where he leaves off. “Where?”
“Nash said he moved around the country a lot, but always returned to one of three places,” he replies in a hard tone. “Atlanta, Lubbock, and Asheville. Nash searched our internal data for bases in those areas but found nothing. But he thinks there’s a secret list of government facilities that aren’t listed in the larger database. Kind of like this place. Think your father can help?”
Without answering, I pick up my phone. When my father answers, he spends the first two minutes giving me hell for giving up my commission and leading an attack against one of our government facilities.
Having heard enough, I butt in. “Stop. Do what you do best—damage control. Right now, I need you to reach out to your contact in the Pentagon and find out if there are any government facilities near Atlanta, Lubbock, or Asheville. I need the information ASAP. I’ll call back in thirty.”
Quaid practically rips the phone out of my hand when he hears that last comment. “Thirty gives Greer and River one hell of a head start.” He stalks to the door. “I’m going to get my gear, and you better pray we catch up to them. Who’s our best tracker?”
“Jax, but Gabe would be easier,” I answer, hurrying to follow him. “Did you ask Nash to start a new search for River and Greer in the cities surrounding us? We need a direction.”
“Affirmative,” he replies gruffly. His cool intellect already working out the possible routes. “He’s on it. Meet you back here in ten.”
I nod and round the corner, almost running into Jax. “Sorry. By the way, we’re borrowing Gabe for a while.”
Jax lifts a cool eyebrow. “Sniping or tracking?” His bright ocean blue eyes are watching me closely.
“Tracking,” I reply with a wave. “Maybe both. Not sure.”
He immediately moves in front of me, stopping me in my tracks. “What’s happening?” Hands on hips, he looks relaxed, but I don’t buy it. He’s a master at disguising his real thoughts. Too many years spent in hidden places, preying on the enemy.
“Greer and River are gone,” I tell him, trying to slip past. When he steps in my way again, I turn my stare on him. “Get the hell out of my way. Time is of the essence.”
He raises his hands. “I’m better at tracking and sniping. Take me.”
I consider it. He’s the best, which is the reason I requested his reassignment to this compound, but he only follows the orders he chooses. “Fine. Inform Quaid. We leave in five.” Pushing past him, I enter my office in a rush. “Captain, you’re in charge. If we don’t make it back in seventy-two hours, head to the location Beckett gives you. We’ll meet you there.”
She takes one look at my set face and automatically salutes me. “Roger that.” Her nose wrinkles, then she chuckles. “Sorry, saluting is a hard habit to break. We’ll continue working on the plan.”
As my own hand automatically rose to salute her back, I flash a wry smile. “It is. Carry on.” I grab my pack and head back out the door.
When I get to the courtyard, Quaid and Jax are waiting for me, along with Nash, who steps forward to hand me a satellite phone. “They hit a diner off of I-74. Cameras don’t have a timestamp. Straight west from here, a little under eight miles. Chopper is waiting. I’ll continue to monitor from here. Good luck.” His brown eyes sweep from Quaid to myself to Jax. “As soon as you hear from your father, relay the intel, and I’ll work up an analysis.”
I stuff the items in my pack and clap him on the back. “Thanks, Nash.”
Quaid stalks toward the helipad. “Load up.”
Less than a minute later, we circle over the compound and head toward the diner. The bird makes it in three minutes. Quaid must have told them it was urgent. They set down a click out, so we don’t alert them, but when we see the diner, we know we’re too late.
An old grey cinder block diner sits on the corner of nowhere, its asphalt parking lot full of cracks and weeds. Large dirty windows offer a murky glimpse into the inside. Beyond the garish orange neon sign, loudly proclaiming they’re open, there’s one soul in a booth eating, a cook, and a server.
The smell of greasy food hits me when I open the door, and my nose wrinkles. I make a quick call. “Nash, I need a picture of River and Greer.” Damn it. Gnashing my teeth, I curse silently. I can’t believe we left without one.
My phone pings two seconds later, and I walk over to the server. “Have you seen these two people?”
An older woman in her sixties, she quietly assesses the fatigues I’m wearing, then purses her lips. “They were here. Left maybe ten minutes ago. Why? They in trouble?” Her eyes widen when she sees Quaid stalk past the window. “He with you?”
“Yes,” I say tersely. “Which way did they go?”
“Around back,” she replies with a shrug. “Didn’t see a car.”
I nod at the cook and customer, who are watching the entire exchange. “Thank you.” I place a twenty on the counter and head out the door.
Quaid stops pacing. “Well?”
“She said they left ten minutes ago. Around back,” I tell him, watching him hurry around the building. “Jax.”
Jax stops looking at the stars to follow me to the rear, where Quaid motions him over to a specific spot.
“I don’t see tire tracks,” Quaid informs him. “Think they took off on foot?”
Jax holds up a hand, then walks in a circle. He widens it once, twice, but stops on the third time. “They disappear.” He frowns and returns to the center and retraces his steps again. “No car. Not on foot. They’re just gone.”
Surprised, I dart a glance at Quaid. “See any traces of ash?”
Jax squints, then pulls out a flashlight. Carefully stepping, he restarts the entire process. “Here.” He looks at me. “How did you know?”
“Fuck!” I curse. “A jumper.” Jax lifts a confused eyebrow. “A jumper has the ability to transport themselves anywhere. The best ones can bring someone with them. Although, I’ve never heard of one able to carry two passengers.”
Jax mulls over my answer and continues to walk his circles. “He didn’t. Looks like he made two jumps. Here and here.” He points to the two piles of ash. “What’s with the ash?”
I lift a shoulder. “Pieces of their clothing get caught in the jump. We think it’s a chemical reaction, but we’re not sure.” I dial Nash. “Jumper picked them up. We’re going to wait here another ten minutes, then call my father.”
Jax looks at Quaid and me. “She has a mark, doesn’t she?” His tone is mild, but we both hear the excitement in his voice. “Any idea why some of us have it and others don’t? I mean, I used to think the most powerful got them, but that theory fizzled pretty quickly.”
The marks used to bother me, but when nothing happened with them, I pushed the thoughts aside and concentrated on the day-to-day task of managing Phoenix. Now, I’m back to wondering. Instead of answering him, though, I call my father.
He answers on the first ring. “Nothing in Atlanta or Asheville. Cannon AFB in New Mexico is the nearest active base. Reese AFB was closed in the nineties, then turned into a wind research institute in 1997. The only other location listed near that area was a small weapons depot, but it was closed as well. Do you want to tell me what this is about?” His tone is cautious, as if he’s not sure he wants to hear it.
“No, but be on the lookout for a truck full of intel heading your way. They kept documents of the experiments. It’s worse than what they did to us in the Army,” I tell him, trying to keep the bitterness out of my tone. Granted, we volunteered to assist the Army in their research, but we never realized they would take it that far. When my father found out what they were doing to us, he stopped it in its tracks.
“Hell,” he returns softly. “I’ll do my best with what you send me. Rumblings from the Capitol tell me Hightower’s going for the jugular. I’m fighting him, tooth and nail. In the meantime, ditch your cell and call me on the other line going forward.” He pauses for a second. “Good luck, son.” The line goes dead.
It’s bad if he called me son. I tap the off button and strip the SIM from my cell. Then, toss the phone in the dumpster. Quaid and Jax silently follow my lead without even asking. Good thing Nash sent a phone with us. This one is registered to the Army. We’ll have to eventually ditch it, too, but for now, nobody but Nash knows we have it.
“Weapons depot outside of Reese AFB. Shut down in the 90s. We’ll take the chopper to the airport. Have a private plane ready for us. Untraceable. The hunt for us is on,” I relay to Nash. “Send the team to the location. Armed and ready. We’ll meet them there.”
I stop and think for a minute. “Kill the cells for the entire team. This phone is limited-use only. We’ll pick up a couple of burners.” Last order. “Tell Beckett to move us out asap. We can’t wait for Friday.”