23. Chapter 23
Chapter twenty-three
Day 7 Denali, Alaska
Wolf commandeered one of the utility carts outside the hangar's entrance. A two-seater this time, with a pickup bed. Aiden sat in silence, nursing his suddenly pounding head as his brother navigated the dark gray warren of tunnels. The confrontation with Cosky must have over-amped him, leading to an adrenaline crash—which explained his weariness—and the jackhammer breaking his brain apart.
He’d been on base for a week now, but his time had been split between the isolation chamber and emergency room. And while this wasn’t his first trip through the Shadow Mountain lair, it was his first chance to take in base specifics. When he’d first arrived, Wolf had taken him along a back route, one that avoided the populated areas, so he’d seen little of what made Shadow Mountain unique.
The hanger level was nothing more than walls and two lanes of traffic. One coming, one going, with a white line separating the two. Wolf exited onto a ramp that spiraled downward. There were four exits off the ramp, with neatly stenciled signs above each exit. Level Four simply said Enesolo. Level three said N-Z. Then a level down: A-M. The last exit was simply marked Hetazenee.
Aiden studied the unfamiliar word before the utility vehicle passed beneath the arch. “What’s the language on the signs?”
Wolf slid him a flat look which triggered Aiden’s hackles.
“Kalikoia.” His brother’s answer was short, like Aiden should have known the answer.
Facing forward again, Aiden scowled. How the hell would he know that?
Wolf might be embedded in the Kalikoia culture, but Aiden wanted no part of it. His heritage was the one his dad had taught him, the one his dad had chosen for himself. It was SEAL culture and community. Their dad had left his tribal heritage behind, forged a new life and alternative path. He’d done so for a reason: because he wanted no part of the culture he’d grown up within. Aiden was content to follow in his father’s footsteps.
The main level had all the typical base stuff. Cross walks. Blinking caution lights where tunnels intersected. Signs with arrows pointing in various directions. Still, a strong science fiction vibe permeated the base. The walls looked like some kind of strange metallic mesh, with circular embedded lights. The road beneath the vehicle’s wheels was black, but with hints of iridescence. Everything looked sleek and black and futuristic.
Unlike the exits, the doors along the roadway were labeled in English and Kalikoia, which was handy. He knew where the cafeteria was now. The supply and weapons depots too. His eyebrows rose as they passed by a recreational center, followed by a cinema. This place had all the comforts of home. Opaque doors embedded into the walls periodically split in the middle, whooshing to both sides as people walked through them.
“Where did you stash our detainees?” Did Shadow Mountain even have a brig? Probably. Base jails were a staple of the industry.
“Command Central,” Wolf said shortly, without looking at him.
Was he still pissed about Aiden’s lack of tribal knowledge? His big bro had been trying to pull him into the whole tribal schtick for years. When would Wolf get it through his thick noggin that he wasn’t interested?
Wolf kept driving. And driving. And driving. The road shifted to a plain concrete webbed with cracks. Same with the walls. The doors were hinged wood, with actual doorknobs. The vibe was chipped fatigue, rather than modern futuristic. Eventually, Wolf pulled into a parking slot in front of a recessed wood door. HQ was painted in faded white letters above the door frame. Headquarters? Seemed odd that a Native American base would use military terminology.
Aiden climbed out of the cart and followed Wolf to the door. A dark-haired dude with a long, dangling braid looked up from his desk in the center of the tight foyer. Recognition flared on his face as soon as his gaze landed on Wolf. He straightened in his desk chair.
“ Betanee.” The guard bent his head, respect in both his tone and posture.
Wolf paused before the desk. “Benioko awaits us. Let him know we are here.”
The guard inclined his head. “Of course, Betanee.”
There was that word again, and the guard’s response sounded almost ceremonial, but Aiden didn’t ask for an explanation. Wouldn’t want to rile big bro again.
“Your shaman is assisting us in the interrogation?” He wouldn’t have considered prisoner interviews to be included in shamanistic duties.
“He wishes to speak with us before we begin.”
Aiden studied the building as they walked side-by-side down the long, gray hall. Fuck, the place was dingy. Gray on gray. The floor was thinner in the middle, like thousands of boots through the years had left their mark.
Wolf stopped in front of an open door and gestured for Aiden to enter. The room beyond reminded him of the briefing rooms he’d occupied throughout his career. The same vast table, with the same rolling chairs. Only this table was oblong, rather than rectangular, and the wood was full of carved words. Hundreds upon hundreds of Kalikoia words. He skimmed over them, suspecting they were names, although he didn’t recognize any of them. Neither Cosky nor the rest of his former SEAL teammates were carved into the surface. Was that because they were still alive? If so, and these names honored dead warriors, then Shadow Mountain had a monumental safety problem.
While special operators died on the job, fatalities weren’t as common as most people believed. His gaze narrowed on the surface of the table. Sure as hell not this common.
The sudden burn in his chest and tightening of his throat surprised him. Flashbacks went off like fireworks in his mind.
The grotesque winking of Grub’s eye. “Don’t fucking move.” The lift of a rifle. Twitching fingers and eyes. “Calm down, bro.” Squirrel’s voice, first calm, then cold. Rifles lifting. Crack. Crack. Crack. Sprays of ruby red and dull gray streaking the snow-scuffed ground.
Shuddering, Aiden shoved the memories aside.
The burn got worse. It climbed his throat and singed his mouth, then tried to rush his mind…his memory. He took a deep breath and forced the fire back.
I’ll make them pay, guys. They won’t get away with what they did to you.
The promise doused the flame to an ember but kept the spark alive. He’d find out who was behind Karaveht. He’d make the bastard pay. But he wouldn’t allow the rage to consume him, either. He had his own life to live, which included mending his relationship with the woman he loved.
He took a seat at the back of the table. Wolf sat in the chair beside him. His mouth watered as he caught sight of a coffee pot and stacks of Styrofoam cups on a table against the wall. Perfect. He stood up and headed to the coffee stand. A strong cup of joe would fix him right up.
Someone must have recently filled the pot, as the black gold hit his cup in steaming spurts. He returned to his chair and savored the scent of fresh coffee as he sipped. Just how he liked it…strong enough to strip paint.
Wolf stood the instant an old man shuffled into the room. He greeted the elder with a bent head and shoulders. Aiden rose as well. Ah…the great Benioko, he presumed.
“ Taounaha.” Wolf’s voice was heavy and deep, and thick with respect.
Aiden silently repeated the word. He’d heard it before, but what did it mean? The word was obviously Kalikoia, but it hadn’t been the shaman’s name. It must represent a tribal rank or title. Not that he intended to ask. Ever. No sense in opening himself to more of his brother’s snarky looks. Aiden settled for mimicking Wolf’s bent posture.
Benioko offered an absent nod, and the small leather pouch dangling from a cord around his neck swished from the right to the left.
“Sit.”
The word didn’t carry the abrasiveness of an order or the politeness of a suggestion. It sat somewhere in between. The old man walked around the curve of the table and pulled out a chair across from them. He settled into the thick upholstery with a grimace, like his bones and joints found the transformation from walking to sitting painful.
“Your people look for you.” Benioko’s faded gaze lifted to Aiden’s face.
Aiden wasn’t surprised. WARCOM knew he’d survived the disintegration of his team. But that was all they knew. His CO didn’t know if he was alive, or captured, or holed up somewhere completely insane. No doubt his superiors were shitting their shorts, wondering what had happened to him and the bodies of his murdered teammates.
“They have many questions.” Benioko’s voice was phlegmy, his gaze distant.
Of course WARCOM had questions. He had questions as well. Maybe they could fill those blanks in together. He should contact his CO, update him, and get an update in return. USSOCOM—hell, the entire military—needed to know about this damn nanobot weapon.
Assuming they weren’t already aware of it.
Assuming they weren’t the ones who’d created it.
He needed to talk to Wolf first, though, make sure his brother was good with him reaching out to SEAL command while he was tucked away in Mount Denali. He didn’t want to expose the Shadow Mountain base, or his former teammates, if there were still people looking for them after that dust up a couple of years back.
He suddenly realized that the room had fallen silent, and both men were staring at him. He raised his eyebrows. “What?”
Wolf grunted.
How the fuck had he filled that animalistic rumbling with so much displeasure?
“Well?” Aiden settled back in his chair. Damned if he was going to feel shame about his lack of attention. “That mumble didn’t tell me a damn thing.”
Except it wasn’t Wolf who answered. With a small sigh, one that sounded worried, rather than annoyed, Benioko folded his veined hands with their translucent skin and laid them on the table.
“Soon, it begins. The jaeetce will sweep across the face of Hokalita until only the jaee will walk free . ”
Aiden understood little of what the old man said. Still, his warning sounded dire. He debated, but hell, he needed to know what the shaman was talking about.
He glanced at Wolf, bracing himself for a cutting reaction. “Translation?”
“Soon this new plague will sweep across the face of our sister earth, leaving only the infected to walk free.” Surprisingly, Wolf provided the translation with minimal attitude.
The sick and infected? From what Aiden had witnessed, the infected wouldn’t survive for long once they succumbed to the bots. A horrible crawling sensation crept down his spine. Benioko had just outlined the extinction of humanity.
It was hard to argue with that assessment after what had happened in Karaveht, after what had happened to his team. Although, the bots in his crew were currently inactive. Did the bots shut down after the host was dead? He suspected there was more to it than that. There must be some kind of kill switch built into the weapon. Whoever had created this bot atrocity wouldn’t want it to infect their own people.
“Has anyone in your lab figured out how to turn the damn things off?” Aiden took another sip of coffee. He could sure use the caffeine hit and the mental clarity it brought. “If we can identify the bots’ off switch, we can mitigate its spread. If worse comes to worst, hell, an EMP blast should fry the damn things.”
Aiden turned to Benioko, but the shaman didn’t look relieved by the possibility of turning the bots off and saving the world. He just looked exhausted, like his visions were draining the life, and hope, from him.
“The woohanta does not see the dangers in his creation,” Benioko said in a thin, tired voice. “He does not see that creation empty of the Shadow Warrior’s and Blue Moon Mother’s Hee-nes-ce will grow teeth and claws and turn on him.” He paused, shook his head, his expression weary. “He thinks he controls these new beings. He does not. This creation will slip its leash. He cannot stop it. He cannot call it back.”
New beings? Benioko made it sound like the bots were sentient. But they were simply a collection of organic computers. And computers could be deactivated.
How did Benioko know any of this, anyway? Through visions? Dreams? Aiden’s own gift was prophetic in a way. He saw into the future, but only for money. Were Benioko’s visions set in stone? Did what the shaman see always come true, or could the outcomes be altered? He frowned. They must be able to alter the events in Benioko’s visions, otherwise Wolf wouldn’t have flown out to rescue him. Otherwise, no one would scramble for an antidote or a solution.
Not that it mattered. He wasn’t about to let humanity slide into obscurity without trying to stop it.
“Are your lab rats looking into turning the bots off?” Aiden turned to Wolf. “If they have electrical components, an EMP should work on them. Maybe an MRI or CT scan for those infected.”
Wolf nodded, only to then shake his head. “They try. But we have no active nanobots, so there is little to work with.”
Aiden released a tense expulsion of air. “You have the bots from my teammates.”
His brother shrugged. “They are not active. We have identified the components used to create them. Knowing this, there are many theories on how they replicate, how they transfer to other victims, how they affect their hosts. Yes—even how they might be turned off. But with no active bots to test on, or observe, all we have is assumptions. We were unable to reactivate even a single bot, no matter the methods used. And without active bots to experiment on, there can be no tests on turning them off.” Wolf rolled his neck, looking momentarily disheartened.
Aiden digested that. “There are still the two clowns your boys took control of. Let’s have a go at them. See who they point us to.” He pushed himself up. “We should look into Grigory Kuznetsov, too, the arms dealer we were sent into Karaveht to find. USSOCOM spooks swore the bastard was in Karaveht. If they’re right, he must have headed up the testing there.”
“There is another matter.” Benioko straightened and set his shoulders, an implacable mask settling over his face.
Cautiously, Aiden sank back into his chair and studied the shaman’s suddenly formidable aura. Benioko had gone from frail and diminished to proud and powerful in the space of a heartbeat.
“Shadow Warrior grows weary of your deliberate eseneee. ” The shaman’s hooded eyes were locked on Aiden, making it clear to whom he referred. “It is time for you to cease this foolishness and learn the Kalikoia ways. Our future, indeed, the future of all Hokalita’s children, depends on this.”
There was more to this than Aiden not knowing the tribal language. A lot more. Every muscle in his body tensed in resistance. He was not Kalikoia. He did not belong to this tribe.
“I wasn’t informed that staying here and working with Shadow Mountain personnel to prevent the apocalypse hinged on submitting to your tribal ways.” His voice hardened. “If so, I’ll pass. I have no interest in the Kalikoia. I don’t believe in your Shadow Warrior, or elder gods, or any of your tribal mythology.”
Wolf stirred, then went still, his gaze on the table. But disapproval emanated from him, prickling against Aiden’s ire.
A sharp crack of laughter rose from Benioko. “It matters not what you believe. Or where your interests pull you. The Shadow Warrior and elder gods have chosen you. You have no say in this.”
“Fuck that,” Aiden drawled.
The old shaman simply smiled. A grim smile.
One that looked like a threat.