Backlash: Prequel to The Wildblood Series (3 page)

“I'm fine,” he assured her.

Wade let them be for a few.  Pretty much everyone in Security knew who they'd lost.  Capt. Terry, to those that knew him, had been a self-defense trainer for the teams.  He was well-liked, had four kids, two that were adopted, and worked out of Station One.  Team Twelve had gotten out with minor injuries, considering all. 

When she disengaged from Mac, Wade got the same treatment.  “I was worried about both of you.  Radio silence is bullshit.”

“And absolutely necessary.  You know it,” Wade said.

She nodded.

“Tonight,” Wade went right to the duty roster.  “We're going to drive shifts out of the station, around The Vista.  No one will be out on the roads.  Both outer stations are locked down.”

“Wait-and-see,” Mac nodded.

“For now.  It might be an isolated incident.  This time of year, lots of people are moving.”

“What about today?” Shan asked.

“Home, and I mean our parents' places so we actually get some sleep; get a decent meal and a shower.  None of us are at liberty to discuss any aspect of what's going on right now.  I have a short meeting with Command.  Unless something happens on the inner perimeter, we're all buttoned down until Command says otherwise.”

“What's the catch?” Mac wondered.  There was always a catch.

“In twenty-four hours, a group of us are going to head south, go to Divide and have a look around.  A very specific group of us.”

They both understood the double-meaning without any prompt from Wade.

“Do you think that will help?” Mac had to ask, knowing he'd not be on the same page, at least for the Gen En things they planned on attempting.  They'd wander around the site of the Code Thirteens and see if they could sense any residuals – 'ghosts' they called it, glimpses of events that had happened.  It wasn't one of the abilities he took to easily.  He'd learned to suppress ghosts, to ignore and push them aside.

“It can't hurt,” Shan reasoned, not liking that he felt disconnected.

“When you two are finished, home,” Wade said, making his way out.  “Check with Dispatch.”

“Were you bored out there last night?” Mac wondered.

“Not even a little, but we're not done talking about what's going on tomorrow morning.  Even if you didn't contribute anything that goes on between Wade and I,” Shan tapped her temple, “here, in our heads, I'd want you there for the support, because we never know what the fuck could happen.”  She was on the verge of anger.  “That's not the case.  When you're close, it's easier for me to sense things.  Maybe you're a catalyst, maybe it's just because I trust you and Wade without questioning why.”  Taking a breath, she added, “If you think you're not important to the team, you're just wrong.  Deal with it.”

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders.  It wasn't easy to cuddle in tactical gear, but Mac made the effort.  “I didn't mean to piss you off.”

“Just because you react different to the Gen En doesn't mean it's a bad thing.  Someday we'll figure it all out.”  She couldn't stay mad at him for very long.  “Then you can make up all those dates we've missed.”

“Someday soon, we'll have that time alone.”

“The time we've been trying to find for over a year now?” she asked.

“You were too young.  Even if you didn't think so then and still don't believe it now.  I know you trust me on things Security, trust me about this too, Shannon.”

She nodded again with a sigh.  “It just seems like it's never going to happen.  It's so damned frustrating.”

“I know,” he said, amused.  “Believe me, I know.”

“I don't . . .”  Shan turned enough to get closer.  She grimaced, rolling her eyes. 

“What?” he encouraged.  “You're not going to offend me.”

“Let's not pretend you don't go out and get laid regularly.  I don't care about that; I know how you feel about us.”  She kissed him, slow, memorizing every detail of the few moments.  “Sometimes, you need to say it anyway,” she told him.

“I  . . . want you . . . to . . .” he whispered huskily.  “Finish my shift so I can go get something to eat.”  He jumped back but got a slap on the shoulder anyway.

“You, bad,” she glared, suppressing a grin.

Before she could unleash a barrage of words at him, Mac grabbed her and kissed her hard.  “I love you, crazy woman.  We'll get rotated back to our regular winter schedule in a few days, this will be finished, and we'll make a night of the time Security owes us.  Or a day, or a couple days.  Stop being impatient.”

“I'm not impatient.  You make me crazy, but it's not a permanent affliction.”

“Ah, but it is.  You get infected with me and it's for a lifetime.”  He smirked, daring her to challenge him.

Shan just rolled her eyes.

Sept 22, Divide, noon

Wade paced the asphalt, trying to sense what happened a day earlier.  He was aware exactly what had taken place; seeing it for himself would help him to pick it apart and analyze it as he could.  Even with the entire team there, he was drawing a blank.  Ghosts more often happened at random and only rarely they'd been able to sense events deliberately.

Taylor shadowed him.  It was his job – not regular Security, but the one he'd taken up with being Wade's right-hand-man.  He provided back up and occasionally an alibi to cover covert things that others might stumble upon.  Gen En things and civilians didn't mix.

“Anything?” Wade directed towards Shan.

“Nada,” she offered.  Green and Jasso were sticking close and she suspected it was on Wade's orders.  Theoretically, all three of them could sense ghosts.  After that, there was no knowing.  What they did know was that half the time one of them sensed something, they lost track of what was happening in real-time.  They could ignore the sensation when it began, which came in pretty damned handy if they happened to be in questionable company or were driving.

“This could drag on for awhile,” Taylor said.

“No more than an hour,” Mac reminded them. 

Taylor shrugged, “Sure.”

“We're fifty miles from The Vista,” Wade talked to himself.  “And forty miles to Sheridan, but only twenty miles from Butte.  Twenty miles from Butte.”

“And Station Three is a hundred and thirty miles out in the sticks,” Taylor said.

Shannon crossed her arms and frowned at Taylor.  He walked away, knowing better than to pick a fight with her.  Technically, they were both rookies, both in training to be Scouts.  The Taylors, Wades, MacKenzies and Allens had shared a house back in the beginning and their children had grown up together.  Mac and Taylor had an occasional clash of attitudes.  Sometimes, they all did.  Standing out in the cold and the wind, not knowing where the enemy was and having no idea what to do next, tempers were short.  Still, Team Three – all of them – were in charge out here, beyond the boundaries of The Vista and the eyes of the Council.

“It helps his concentration to talk it out.  Sometimes,” she offered.  They were three of the five people that had seen the team work as Gen En rather than Security.  Or they would be, if anything happened. 

“What about you?” Green questioned.

She shrugged.  “I've never found a pattern, or a trigger to what I see.”

“Neither have I,” Wade pointed out.  “Mac is lucky enough to not be plagued by the condition, not yet.  We think it'll happen.”

“Do you feel lucky?” Jasso asked him.

“On this, yeah, I do.  Having a nightmare when you're asleep is bad enough.  Having one when you're walking around, minding your own business . . .”  Mac would pass on that particular ability, if he had the choice.

“That's not really what it's like, not once you realize what's happening,” Shan said.

“I've seen those few seconds before you realize what it is,” Mac reminded her.

“It's pretty fascinating, actually,” she insisted.  “Seeing a piece of the past like you were right there in the middle of it.”

“Unless it was a nuclear bomb,” Green nodded towards the north.  A warhead  sitting in its silo had accidentally been detonated by Nomads.  Luckily for The Vista, it was a couple hundred miles away and on the other side of the continental divide.

“When it's something terrifying, you can . . . push it away.  Or at least Wade and I can.”

“There are others like you,” Green had always suspected.

She didn't answer.  The decision to take up that conversation wasn't entirely hers.

“Are there more Gen Ens, in The Vista?” Green went ahead and asked.  “Why would they be hidden from us when it's our job to keep them out of trouble?”

They all looked at Wade.  He considered the implications of it and where it was about to go.  “Since you're sworn to silence on all things Gen En, I guess knowing isn't any more of a burden than other things we've shown you.”

“That doesn't sound good,” Jasso added.

“I want in,” Green figured. “Taylor already knows.  He'd already be jumping in the conversation if he didn't.”

“There are others, other Gen Ens,” Wade said.  “I won't tell you how many or who.  What I can say is that they're inactive.”

“Meaning what?” Jasso asked.

“They're unaware of their differences,” Wade told them.

“How do you know?” Green continued, too curious not to.

“Officer Allen can sense other Gen Ens.”

“When I meet someone, it's as obvious to me as the color of their hair or the tone of their voice.  We've watched a number of them, and they exhibit no indication of it, of the Gen En.”  Shan made a short story of it.  “That's all I'm going to tell you.”

“Are any of us?”  It dawned on Jasso there might be a reason they hadn't mentioned it.

“No,” Wade stepped in, knowing Shan wasn't kidding when she said she wouldn't talk about it any further.  “We're the only three in Security.”

“None of this is why we're out here,” Taylor finally spoke up.  “You can take it up again when we're safe back at the Station.”

“If they were going to see ghosts out here,” Mac pointed out.  “It already would have happened.  Now we're just here to find out how serious you are.  First, you get to hear how serious we are.”

They all shut up to listen.  Wade was notorious for planning out his moves in Security.  This was one of those things.  They'd been expecting it for months, since Shan had gone on the road and Mac had transferred to Station Two.

“The 'Conda, the Anaconda Security Corp, has been an official entity in The Vista for a couple years now.  Council doesn't like it but Security Command has recognized us.  Now, with this attack, they've given us access to Station Two,” Wade told them.

“There's a good reason Security and civilian matters are kept separate,” Taylor said.  “Council has gotten soft.  They don't think the threat of intruders is as severe as it was in the beginning, or even a few years ago.  It may not be, but letting Security ease up is a bad idea any way you look at it.”

“Security doesn't publicize everything that happens.  What would the point be?”  Mac knew there were things Command didn't tell all of Security as well.  He wasn't one of the chosen few; Wade was, and Wade confided.

“My point,” Wade told them.  “Command has given me the authority to use the 'Conda in a Security capacity.   Lambert and Ballentyne have already had this discussion with me.”

“Damn,” Green said.

“Ditto,” Mac agreed.  “We all just got targets plastered on us and Council will be looking to shoot us down.  If you aren't interested in that sort of attention, now is the time to step away.”

“But Command is covering our backs?” Jasso wanted to confirm.

“Absolutely,” Wade said.

“Council can make us miserable by calling us in front of them every time they get the chance,” Green said, knowing from experience.  “They can't actually make me do anything, but unless you're willing to move up to the Siksika Ranchlands, you're out of luck.”  The Blackfoot nation had existed there four hundred years before The Vista and continued to govern themselves much the same as they had before the war.

“It's an idea,” Shan laughed.

“Exactly why Green is going to follow you around like a shadow until we get clear of this situation,” Wade informed her.

“Do I have an option?”

“No.”

“Fine.”  It wasn't so funny, now, she decided.

Wade knew her well enough to understand 'fine' meant things were exactly the opposite.  She wouldn't take it up with him in front of other officers.  “If you want reassigned, talk to anyone in Team Three.  Right now, we're going in and deciding what's next.  Get your schedules, watch your backs.  This isn't over.” 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Overnight, Sept 24

“Want to drive?” Taylor asked.

“Where are we?” Shannon sat up, peering out into the darkness.

“We'll be turning around at the Dillon exit in about five minutes.  Gas it, switch off and I'll get in a nap.”

“I wasn't asleep.”  Dressed in winter camos over body armor, they could have been twins.  At any distance, she was indiscernible from her male counterparts, as long as she kept her face mask on and her opinions to herself.

“It looked that way to me,” he smirked.

“I was talking to Wade.”

That made him think twice about it, raising an eyebrow.  “All right, you win that one Shan.  What's going on?”

“Nothing in particular.  Security is having a pow-wow the other side of Glen at daybreak.”

“Yeah, you can drive to Glen.”

She was quiet again, head against the seat, a faint static buzz in the back of her mind.  Neither were attempting contact, but the connection was there.  Sometimes it lingered; sometimes it was a whisper they couldn't quite hear.  All three of them felt it on occasion.  Simply put, Mac hadn't figured out how to respond.

Then she was fully awake, feeling like she'd had cold water thrown on her.  Taylor had gone into the depot and she was sitting in the car, alone, in the dark.  Scooting to the driver's side she flung the door open.  “Kyle, move it!”

He did, sprinting out and throwing himself into the seat as she gunned the engine, sending gravel flying across the empty lot.  Taylor snapped on his safety belt, swearing under his breath.  “Code call?” he asked, not hearing any radio traffic. 

“Not yet,” she said.  “Give it a few seconds.”

A cold chill ran up his spine.  “Should you be driving?”

“Yes I should.  Knowing what's happening twenty miles away doesn't affect my driving abilities.”

“What's happening?”

“Code Eight, Glen cutoff,” someone called, out-of-breath, answering Taylor's question.

“Code Eight, we're under fire at Glen,” another officer radioed in, shouting.  “There's at least a dozen Nomads, north and south of my position.”

“Shit,” Taylor exhaled.

“No response; we're still in Blackout no matter what we hear,” she told him.

“I know.  Drive faster,” he urged.  Four more code calls happened in quick succession, all of them Code Thirteen, officer down.  None of them were Team Three.  “What in the hell is going on out here?”

She shook her head.  “I don't know.  I felt it because Wade felt it.”

“Felt what?” 

“Intruders.  I don't know if he's on the scene or not.  What ever happened was fast.”  Shan concentrated on driving.  In an hour, they'd have daylight.  For now, the dark was their enemy and her team was out there, somewhere.  She drove faster.

Within minutes, they could see carnage.  A security vehicle was abandoned and burning, halfway off the pavement.  For a moment, the blank readout screen on her dashboard lit up, then went to black.

“Did you get that?” Taylor asked.

“Yes,” she acknowledged.  “Get the Uzis, get ready.  There are eight or nine cars just over this next rise and some of them aren't ours.”

“Fucking wonderful.  Cars.” 

“Motorized vehicles of some sort,” she confirmed.  “Security shows up blue.  Other colors mean not us.  This isn't the first time we've ran across other cars, relax.”

He retrieved sub-machine guns from behind their seats.  “There,” he nodded, turning back around, seeing more cars and more fires.  Being Wade's right hand, he also recognized that look, the d
etermination
, on her face.  It was like tunnel vision with all three of them, narrowing their concentration to the task at hand. 

“That's Wade,” she said, not indicating which of the cars, not physically.  Mentally she was tagging them.  “Car Four is Jasso, I think; Noel and Saenz are supposed to be out here somewhere.  Mac and Lambert, too.  I don't know the Station Two shift.”

Muzzle flash erupted across the roadway.   “ATVs,” Taylor decided.  “Maybe motorcycles or four-wheel drives.  They're all over the place.”

“The Nomads are scattering.  That's not what we want.”

“Pick a target, take it down,” Taylor recited a mantra from training.

“Exactly,” Shan acknowledged with a slight nod, falling in behind several cars moving north on the interstate.  North wasn't the direction they wanted any intruders to run; it was Security's job to make sure they didn't get far. 
There was more gunfire and some of the front-running Security vehicles were hit. One spun out, leaving the blacktop, plowing up an enormous amount of dirt, but missing the stand of trees. 

For a moment, Shan thought it was going to roll on the steep slope.  Then it did, going over once and then half again before it came to rest on its roof, mostly obscured by the billowing cloud of dust.

“Allen, get Green,” Wade barked on the air.

“Hang on,” she warned, locking the brakes up and taking it off road, the dirt shoulder slowing them down quickly.  They swerved to a stop, not a full car length away.  He didn't have time to swear.  She had her safety harness off before the car came to a stop. “Cover us, Taylor.”

He did, swinging the door open, using it as a shield, and wishing he had something bigger than an Uzi.  There wasn't time to be digging around in the trunk for weaponry.  Shan was out looking for survivors.  Or more specifically, one particular officer, kicking out his driver's side window to escape.

“Come on, Lt.,” she urged.

He coughed and then coughed some more, scrambling clear of the wreckage.  “Fuck!” Green blurted out.  The windshield had shattered, leaving him covered in glass shards.

“Methane or refined?” she asked, worried about his gas tanks.

“Methane,” he told her as she got an arm around him, grabbing a handful of parka and pulling him away from the wreckage.

As they staggering towards her car, a third vehicle caught them in the headlights and both men had weapons trained.  “It's Mac,” Shan shouted before he jumped out to help.  It was.

“Get in my car, Taylor,” he said, sounding like it was an order.  He helped drag Green the last few yards to the car and dumped him in the seat Taylor relinquished.  “Harness,” he directed.

“Got it,” Green managed.

“Do not engage them unless you have to,” Mac told her.  “Yes, that's an order.”