Changing Tides (17 page)

A bullet pinged off the roof of the truck inches from where Brett stood. Swinging the turret toward the point of the shot’s origin, Brett fired. Screams filled the night air. Brett forced himself to ignore what he was hearing. Far off in the distance, fire lit the sky, casting everything in shades of yellow and orange. The few remaining lights went out, blanketing the entire base in darkness aside from vehicle headlights. Gunfire and shouts followed before quickly silencing.

“Surrender. Lay down your weapons. Stop defending the unjust tyrant General Vanessa Landry, a dictator who cares nothing for our people. Our friends. Our families.” Orion’s voice cut through the silence. “We have lost children, lovers, family and friends to starvation or lack of medical help—things that the rest of the world has.”

Brett held his breath. He spun in a slow circle. Watching. Listening. Some people had stopped moving and were listening.

“Return to your homes.” The voice was slightly difference. The speech had been recorded, but this last statement was said by Orion himself. “Stay there and you will be safe.”

There was no way to know how many people would surrender and how many people would fight them. Their battle wasn’t with the average person. It was with the government. With people like Brett’s father who’d used his position and influence to torture and murder the innocent, like the man with whom Brett had planned on spending the rest of his life. And with people like the men who’d carried out his father’s orders. Briefly, Brett wondered if they’d privately questioned his father’s directives, but dismissed any reservations. He’d seen their faces and their eyes. Taren wasn’t the first person they’d done this to. “Who are you?” someone shouted. “Why should we believe you?”

“We are the Citizens for a Free Aelland,” Orion replied. “You shouldn’t believe anyone. You should learn everything you can about what people say and what they stand for then make an educated decision.”

Brett stared, open-mouthed as dozens of people laid down on the ground. Slowly, he spun the turret in a circle. In the distance, he saw the glow of headlights before he heard the vehicles and called the approach down to Thompson to relay to Orion and Liz. Four sets of lights multiplied as the vehicles wound their way through the base streets. They broke off in several directions. There was more security than a normal detail had at night, but far fewer than the whole companies he expected. Some people had made it to their destination. Others could still be trying to get there.

The approaching convoy was still several hundred yards away from them when it started shooting. A person ran across the street and was hit then run over by the lead truck. Security Force personnel in the open were caught in the crossfire between them and the oncoming vehicles. Brett returned fire, aware of the rattling of other weapons from below him.

The truck lurched forward. Brett lost hold of his weapon and moved with the vehicle. As he fought to regain his footing, pain sliced through his arm. Swearing, he dropped inside the truck. Blood trickled down his arm. There was a tear in his quickly darkening sleeve.

“Somebody help me with this,” he yelled, trying to tear off a piece of his shirt.

Rough fingers brushed aside his hands and tore the fabric.

“Knot it over the wound,” Brett said. “I’ll deal with it later.”

Jackson nodded and did as Brett asked before helping him back up into the turret. Brett took aim at the swarming vehicles. Eventually, the hammering from the gun caused his pain to pass into numbness. Time became irrelevant. With the light only from their vehicles, darkness was both their friend and their enemy.

The truck lumbered to a stop outside the headquarters building. There was no way to tell if anyone was inside. Brett took a deep breath then let it out slowly, forcing himself to stay where he was. Wanting to go with Orion wasn’t enough of a reason to leave his post. He had to trust the men and women with his lover to keep him safe.

A tap on his leg had him ducking down into the truck.

“You want to go?” Thompson asked.

Brett smiled and nodded. “Yes. However, just bring him back to me. Keep your eyes open. There’s no telling how many people are in there.”

Thompson nodded and jumped out of the truck.

Brett returned to his post, watching the group make their way to the building. Once they were inside, he turned his attention to the surrounding area, wondering what was so special that Orion risked breaking into the building. He’d mentioned the archives and the possibility of evidence there, but he’d been willing to send Carter and her team there instead of going himself. Orion’s job as the general’s personal assistant had given the younger man access to incredible amount of information. It seemed more than plausible that Orion knew more than most of the people Brett had worked with in the Intelligence offices.

As he waited, the hair on the back of Brett’s neck stood up. Brett slowly swiveled around in the turret, unable to see anything suspicious. He was grateful Liz had cut the lights earlier. Having them on would make them more of a sitting target. Movement across the parking lot from the building caught his attention, but there was no way to enter through the front of the building without them knowing. Brett kicked himself. There was always a second entry for every government building, and they’d hadn’t secured it. Not from the outside.

Swearing, Brett climbed down into the truck.

“Take the turret,” Brett told to Sergeant Aaron Davis, Corporal Miller’s fiancé and the only other man left guarding the truck. “Watch the parking lot closely.”

“What’s going on?” Liz asked, turning in her seat.

“I saw movement on the other side of the parking lot. I’m going to check it out and secure the secondary entrance then find Or—Hellman.”

Liz nodded.

Grabbing the rifle he’d left sitting by his seat, Brett quietly opened the door behind the driver and climbed down. Hiding behind bushes and against the wall, Brett tried to keep himself out of sight and as small of a target as possible as he made his way around to the back of the building.

“Halt! State your name!”

The order came from somewhere to Brett’s left. Silently cursing, Brett stopped. If he answered the way all Security Force personnel were trained, it could either spare his life or kill him. Turning slowly, Brett lifted his weapon and shot at the speaker. There was a thud followed by shouts. Brett dove to the ground and maneuvered into a shooting position. He waited several moments, his ears strained to catch any noise he could separate from the ceaseless gunfire. Security Force soldiers lurked just out of visual range. He couldn’t risk shooting into the dark, not knowing who was where. He could be shooting the enemy, but it could just as easily be a friend. The amount of weapons and ammunition the Citizens for a Free Aelland had been able to gather through the years was astounding, but supplies were still limited and he needed to make each shot count.

Brett crawled forward until he was at the edge of the building. There was little hope of cover until he reached the door. Then he’d have to pray he could get in. Anything that required a thumbprint or scan to gain entry would be off limits to him. His security access should have been flagged by now, if it hadn’t been deleted outright when they’d come to search his room and arrest him. Shots rang out, plunging into the building and ricocheting off the cement while others kicked up dirt and grass several feet away.

“Hey rebel!” a female voice shouted into the night. “Are the reports true? There are no institutions?”

Brett turned in the direction of the speaker and took a deep breath before answering, lowering his voice when he did. “They’re true. There are no institutions. There are just graves.” Brett shifted his weight and prepared to move. He hadn’t seen the institutions and the graves other than in the videos, but he knew in his gut the images were real. He didn’t have to see the bodies in the pits Orion had dug to know the man spoke the truth. Brett had looked into the lives of several dozen men and women who’d gone missing, some from before he’d arrived and some after. He’d never asked about the disappearances. It hadn’t occurred to him to question what the government had told him at the time. “The stories of innocent people being tortured are also true.”

“I…are you sure?” she asked. He could hear the hesitation and disbelief in her voice.

“I am.”

“I…can I join—”

Several shots rang out followed by a scream. Accusations were hurled across the darkness. Brett shouldered his weapon, aimed at the muzzle flash and squeezed the trigger. He made a mental note to ask Orion what should be done about the soldiers who wanted to join them. Picking up a rock, he checked the weight of it before throwing it away from him. He waited, listening for a reaction to anyone around him. Taking a deep breath, he jumped up from his hiding spot and ran to the backdoor. He yanked on the handle, fully expecting it to be locked. The door opened completely, shocking him and causing him to stumble backward.

He swore. The security panel mounted in the wall was intact, so whoever went in before him had the necessary clearance to enter. It could be a small number of people, but if they caught Orion and the others by surprise, it would be deadly. Planting himself against one side of the hallway, he scanned the area and listened for anything that would give him the edge he needed. Even if Orion didn’t think he was important, Brett knew better. He knew it in his soul. He wouldn’t interfere with whatever Orion thought he needed to do, but he wouldn’t let the man go into a fight alone or die, if he could help it.

Time seemed to stand still as Brett made his way through the maze of corridors. The interior of the concrete brick building was dark, lacking more than the faint glow of the stars and moon as guiding light. Moving slowly and pausing occasionally, he listened for signs of a fight or people to help guide him in the right direction. Faint sounds of a gunfight grew stronger as he walked. Brett turned another corner and found himself in a familiar hallway, one way led to the main entrance while Brigadier General Reynolds’ office lay in the other direction.

He was closer to the entrance than he’d originally thought. A smoky haze filled the end of the hall. Shots were fired and returned. His friends were trapped. Not wanting to be seen, Brett squatted behind an empty chair outside an office. He couldn’t see Security Force personnel, but their presence was the only thing that made sense to him. It was the only reason his friends would be shooting.

As he crept closer, evidence of the fight became more apparent. Bullet holes riddled parts of the wall at the mouth of the corridor leading toward the base commander’s office. Bracing himself against the wall, Brett looked around the corner and down the hall. Outside the doors leading into the general’s office, the secretary’s desk lay on its side. Anything of substance was being used as cover for both sides.

Brett took aim at the uniformed soldiers and squeezed the trigger. There were screams and shouts followed by an unfocused barrage when one soldier turned without taking his finger off the trigger. Two Security Force members were killed by the man’s gun before a shot from behind ended the man’s life. The gunfire continued until the bodies of the security forces team lay scattered around the waiting area of the general’s office.

“Don’t shoot!” Brett yelled, stepping from around the safety of his position.

“Who goes?”

“DeMarco,” Brett answered. He’d been careful to not use his name outside of a handful of people, ensuring he hadn’t been identified as being anything other than a loyal supporter of General Landry. Relief flooded him and rolled away with another onslaught of tension. He didn’t care who knew he was a member of the Citizens for a Free Aelland anymore. His father had killed one man Brett had loved. There was no way he’d abandon the other man he loved for any reason.

“What the hell?” Thompson asked as Brett approached the barricade.

“There’s a backdoor. I’m sure we’ll have company soon,” Brett replied, looking around. “Where is Orion?”

“Office.” Thompson’s answer was flat.

Brett’s stomach dropped. He was fairly certain there was another way into the decorated room. One few people would know about. He had no proof, but it would explain why Reynolds wasn’t with his men.

“I’m going in. Why not move to the end of the hall where you won’t be boxed in?” Brett asked.

“Too far from Hellman,” Thompson whispered.

Brett nodded. “We’ll be out as soon as possible then we need to get back to the truck.”

Chapter Twelve

Orion swore softly.

There was no way he could get into the small safe. Not without force. They couldn’t stay here too much longer. Already, they’d fought a group of security personnel. He still hadn’t seen or heard anything about the general. One of their teams was supposed to find Reynolds’ house and capture him. He’d be tried for crimes against humanity, abuse of power and anything else that could be levied against him. The same would be true for General Landry and her government.

The Citizens for a Free Aelland would put a new government in place, one that was based off the old stories he’d heard and the document he hoped Carter could find in the archives. First though, they needed to survive the night and win the war.

“I could use some help over here when you get a chance,” he said, careful to keep his voice low and neutral. Standing, Orion turned to the room’s only other occupant, a middle-aged man who only went by the name of Bones. Orion had never asked where he’d acquired his explosives knowledge or the nickname. The man had been vetted dozens of times by multiple people and had proven himself on several occasions. Orion trusted him.

Bones nodded once before focusing his attention back on the closet door Orion had never seen inside. For all he knew, it held clothes or boxes of junk. He’d let smarter people than himself look over the contents and try to make sense of everything.

Both men turned toward the door, weapons at the ready, as it opened. Brett stepped through, hands and gun held slightly away from his body. Orion flipped the safety back into place on his gun then walked toward Brett. Bones growled and turned back to his work.