Chapter 14
CHAPTER
FOURTEEN
Judd had two whiteboards, and the power was going to his head.
In a time when they were scrounging to find necessities, how the man managed to find multiple whiteboards with enough markers to color code, Gabriel couldn’t even begin to guess.
The first whiteboard had been dubbed Team Chicken Flipping.
Under the header, he had information regarding Monkey Cats, Methamphetamine, the location of the Queen, and a truly horrendous drawing of what Blake had described he’d seen in the alley.
Judd swore it was as accurate as he could get, but Gabriel thought it looked more like a dead spider.
They’d written Team Choo-Choo on the second whiteboard. By that point, Gabriel had given up on any kind of serious name. He was asking his team to go on a victory or death mission; if they wanted to goof off, he wasn’t going to stop them.
That, and the look on Irving’s face every time he had to read them out loud was hysterical.
“We can enter the rails here,” Tommy said, pointing to a stop located outside of the city. “Alvarez and Beaumont checked it out today, it looks clear. There’s some water damage, but nothing we can’t manage. From there, we can follow the line into the city.”
Beaumont nodded. Gabriel wondered what the slouchy beanie he was wearing was made of, for it to stay on his head with all the movement. “We ran it this morning. Couple of tight places where something blew through the wall, but it’ll work.”
“I like the idea of you guys having cover,” Gabriel admitted, crossing his arms as he looked over the board.
There was still so much up in the air. He couldn’t quite feel comfortable with the plan, but it was beginning to take shape.
After they reconned the street where they thought the Queen was, it felt more real. Like a clock had been set, and now they could see their time ticking away. The scope of the mission was insane. Gabriel had never been part of something this large, with so many moving parts.
Or so much at stake.
He’d always had backup. Even after leaving the military, he had Kinetic Solutions with its seemingly endless budget and support backing him up.
Hell, he had walkie-talkies! Now they were going in blind, unable to communicate, with no reinforcements.
If they couldn’t get themselves out of the hot zone, they weren’t getting out.
Swallowing dryly, he looked over at Blake. Despite the bags under his eyes, there was a spark about him. It was so blinding, it was hard to believe Gabriel didn’t notice it was dimming. He would never forgive himself for that. Or if anything happened to him.
Blake’s nightmares weren’t any worse than his own, but they had taken on a new intensity after seeing the Monkey Cat eviscerate an Off Former.
It didn’t have anything to do with the aliens killing each other; they’d seen enough of that.
It had everything to do with Blake having difficulty ignoring the fact that the aliens were more than just mindless weapons.
Seeing their faces, thinking of them as a person rather than just a human, it never sat easy. And there was something about knowing that your enemy sees you, knows you’re the same, and wants to kill you anyway. It makes it more personal.
It’s the kind of thing he used to try to drown out. Sterilize it with the burn from a stiff drink. Now, he crochets a fucking scarf.
Or sucks his boyfriend’s dick.
There was nothing Gabriel could say to ease Blake’s trauma, so he focused on trying to get information. Namely, what the hell that thing the Monkey Cat took was.
They guessed it was a battery or a heart.
Victoria started calling it a Heart Cell, and the name stuck.
She didn’t get a great picture of the thing—Polaroids weren’t known for clarity—but she got something.
The blurry pic caught the side of the Monkey Cat; at a high enough angle, they could see part of the glowing Heart Cell hanging from the alien’s mouth.
Irving practically salivated when he saw it. Gabriel could see visions of necropsies dancing in his eyes. He shut that down quick.
Bringing back a dead Monkey Cat might be possible, but an Off Former? No. They were too heavy. Too dangerous. Even if they did manage to catch a lone one, which was rare enough. But between their guns, their armor, and the propensity to melt when exposed to the atmosphere? Insanity.
“As we suspected, all the electrical equipment was destroyed. But there was no physical damage. The lines are in good shape.” Judd circled the section they intended to activate. “Tommy and I will take point there, with Gabriel acting as lookout.”
Phin grunted. He didn’t like the idea of not being with Tommy. But he was too valuable to stick underground, where there would hopefully be no fighting.
“Are you sure this is even possible? A couple of generators don’t seem like enough to electrify a city street.” Beaumont’s question didn’t come across as critical. He was leaning against the chair Alvarez was stiffly sitting in, eyes furrowed as he processed the information on the boards.
“We’re not electrifying a whole street,” Tommy explained, his voice slurring with exhaustion.
He’d explained the mechanics behind the plan dozens of times, and most of them still didn’t understand the exact details.
“We’re bypassing the converter in a power substation, so we run current through the third rail.
The power is coming from the multiple diesel generators we found.
With step-up transformers, we can sort of…
combine their power and hit it hard. After that, it’s just using copper wire to bring the current up to the street, where it’ll naturally electrify the metal rods and other detritus we’ve been scattering. ”
“It would be better if it would rain,” Irving mused. “If the street were wet, the current would carry better.”
“Great,” Alvarez grumbled. “We get to die wet.”
Gabriel ignored him. “But it would be more difficult to assure our safety.”
“Of course,” Irving acquiesced.
Tommy began fidgeting with his oversized sleeves. “Beyond that, it’s actually pretty simple. Since we’re not concerned with the generators surviving, we don’t have to worry about fused links or overcurrent damage.”
“What about your safety?” Blake asked from where he’d been quietly zoning out. “This is DC current we’re talking about. It’s not cycling like AC. If you touch that rail, if anyone touches something hot, you’re literally cooked.”
“Blake’s right,” Gabriel said, raising his voice.
He stepped closer to the whiteboard so he could point at the drawing Judd made of the street.
It was crude, but effective. “Ground team is going to draw the Off Formers into this avenue. The street is covered in rebar, wire, and whatever else we could think to electrify.” He indicated the main thoroughfare before letting his hand drift to a thickened line at the northernmost end of the street.
“Here is what we’re calling the Green Zone.
It’s a wall of tires and the safest place to be once everything goes live. ”
“But let me be clear, Green Zone does not mean safety. There is no safety. There is no cavalry. If you can’t get yourself out of the hot zone with your own two feet, then you’re not getting out. Do you understand?”
He let his words sink in, making sure he locked eyes with every person standing in the room. Most of them he knew well; some of them he didn’t know at all.
Alvarez rolled his eyes, standing up. “We know what the stakes are. You just live for these dramatic speeches, don’t you?”
Judd threw his marker down, taking a big step into Alvarez’s face. “Listen up, Gitmo—”
“I’m Cuban!” Alvarez roared. “Guantanamo Bay is an American institution in Cuba. If you’re going to insult me, do it right.”
A manic smile crossed Judd’s face. “Gladly.” He began rolling up his sleeves, but Victoria stepped up, sliding a slender hand around his bicep.
With the smallest tug, she pulled him back to his whiteboard, handing him a marker.
Judd’s face had gone from thunderous to sappy, eyes shining at Victoria as she righted his sleeves.
Phin snorted. “If you could see your face right now.”
“I got laid last night, Phin. What did you do?”
The silence was telling.
Gabriel pinched the bridge of his nose.
“We still don’t know how were getting a team onto the roof,” Victoria said coolly. As usual, she was the voice of reason, and they all fell in to listen.
“Fire escapes?”
Gabriel shook his head. “Too much street-level damage. None of them reach low enough.” He glanced over at Blake, looking for him to back him up when he noticed that Blake wasn’t paying attention.
He was drifting again. When most people zoned out, they looked dreamy or unfocused, but Blake looked a little angry.
His brows furrowed, lips twisted, and his eyes took on a glassy sheen of focus that Gabriel couldn’t even begin to imagine.
“Blake?”
He didn’t answer; instead pushed himself past the collected chairs and made his way toward the front doors of the lobby.
Right inside, there was a shelf of brochures.
Mostly local attractions, some coupons, and some transportation companies.
They’d been using them as fire starters or letting Sara color them.
Blake stepped over the scattered pages and began rummaging through the shelves until he found what he was looking for. Running his fingers over the dusty front page, Blake twisted it until the candlelight flickered against the glossy front page.
Northeast War Museum was printed in bright yellow kitschy font.
Blake’s teeth flashed in a smile. “I have an idea.”
The Northeast War Museum was a squat, concrete building, almost lost against the gray sky. It was difficult to find, too. They’d driven past it twice before Victoria saw the small brown sign indicating a narrow gravel drive leading up a small hill.