The Alliance (13 page)

 

UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

HarperCollins
Publishers

....................................

Chapter
36

I met with the grand commander alone. I seem to have stumbled onto a position of power and am unsure how I feel about my current circumstances. He has asked for my complete trust and confidence. I reluctantly accepted his offer, if only to discover what he has planned for his future America.

—­The journal of Isaac Ryland

Andrew drove. He didn't know where he was heading and had nobody to guide him. Carter was asleep in the backseat with the agent, who was still passed out. Zack joined the other travelers in slumber, but Andrew didn't have that luxury. He wanted to ask Zack a million questions, but the doctor Affinity had located for Zack had deposited the man in the car already asleep and had said few words to Andrew when he loaded him in.

“He'll wake up in a few hours,” the doctor said. “Tell him to take his medicine every four hours for five days.”

“Where am I supposed to take him?”

The man gave a shrug. “Anywhere but here.”

Those were his final words before slamming the car door.

That had put a damper on Andrew's plans. He knew they needed to dump the RAG SUV; however much time their group had before the higher-­ups realized their French trip was a disaster was dwindling. Andrew was certain they would search for the missing vehicles right away. Zack's sleep was a medicated one though and Andrew couldn't steal a car with two unconscious men.

“Water,” a voice said.

Andrew glanced in the rearview mirror. Agent Quillian was coming to. Andrew grabbed the bottle he had up front, unscrewed the lid, and passed it back.

“My hands are behind my back,” he said.

“I know,” Andrew said. “That's why there's no cap. Figure it out or I'll drop the bottle all over the floor.”

Andrew glanced back as the man leaned forward and put his mouth on the opening. Andrew did his best to tilt the bottle backward. Some liquid made it into the agent's mouth and he gulped it down.

“Where are we?”

“Headed to the Southwest Area,” Andrew said. “We might be there already.”

“If you don't kill me you'll have to let me go,” he said.

“Eventually.”

“Why are you doing this?” Agent Quillian asked.

“Because I made a promise not to kill you,” Andrew said.

“No,” Agent Quillian said. “Why are you betraying your country?”

“Who said anything about betrayal?”

“You came home with a foreign dignitary, only to have them die along with good American men who didn't deserve it,” Agent Quillian said. “I call that treason.”

“I was protecting myself,” Andrew said.

“The French are not our allies,” Agent Quillian said.

“Not your allies.”

Andrew returned his eyes to the road. They were entering more mountainous terrain. It was stunning, but Andrew knew mountains meant fewer ­people, which meant the chances that they'd be able to switch cars were growing slimmer and slimmer. The road he was traveling on was not well cared for. He swerved to avoid a pothole.

“So what's your story?”

“It doesn't concern you,” Andrew said.

“I've been knocked out three times,” he said. “I think it concerns me quite a bit.”

Andrew didn't respond.

“Are you mad about mandatory ser­vice?” he asked. “Avoided your duty and came back to exact revenge?”

Andrew still didn't give a reply.

“Maybe you got too comfortable living abroad, think you can change the future for the young men here?”

Another pothole appeared and Andrew couldn't avoid it completely. The car bumped over it.

“You don't have to tell me the details,” Agent Quillian said. “Just your endgame.”

“Why would I do that?”

“You're dead anyway,” Agent Quillian said. “We're all going to die, so don't make me leave this world without answering some of my questions.”

The young agent was probably right. Andrew had accepted that before they reentered America.

“Maybe it was about the girl? She was pretty. Is she really French? What did you guys call her, Mia?”

Hearing him say her name boiled Andrew's blood. He tried to block out the agent, but he kept on talking.

“I see I hit a nerve,” he said. “Did you want to drag her back here so you could enroll her in the Registry? Then buy her? She would be way out of your price range.”

Mia was not and never would be for sale. Andrew felt his skin crawl and didn't want the man to speak anymore.

“We want to stop everything,” Andrew said. “Mandatory ser­vice and the Registry.”

Quillian let out a laugh.

“It's not a joke,” Andrew said.

“It's a pipe dream,” Agent Quillian said. “Not a goal.”

“What?”

“Who doesn't want to stop the Registry and mandatory ser­vice?”

Andrew hadn't, not until he met Mia at least.

“You think I liked giving up four years of my life? Being raised in a dump? Now I can't even touch a woman unless I save up enough money to buy a wife. That's the way my country repays me.”

“You don't like the Registry?”

“Nobody does,” Agent Quillian said.

Andrew was confused.

“It's the way things are,” Quillian said. “Nobody can change that. By the time men are powerful enough to have a say they have a pretty little wife and a pretty little life and don't care anymore.”

“You think women should have a say in who they marry?”

“I don't care about women,” Quillian said. “I enjoyed my time overseas sampling some. Now I come home and there's nothing, not until I get married.”

This man did not see the plight of the ­people. He only saw the inability to have his needs satisfied.

“Every man hates it, until he gets married,” he said. “If you complain about it someone will hush you up. But it's a fact. You would know that if you ever served your time like a real man.”

“What about throwing out sons?” Andrew said. “Does everyone hate that too?”

“Lots of guys in ser­vice pledge they'll keep theirs, but we all know we're lying,” Agent Quillian said. “If you ever meet a boy raised by a father, you know that's all he'll ever be: a boy. They're given the worst assignments; I met one once and it was like talking to a dead man. The government places them in the worst countries on the front lines. If any of them survive their four years, they've seen way too much carnage to have any type of normal life. I hated my father every day of my life until the day I was discharged.”

“Why don't you band together and do something about it?”

“What? Like you're doing? Look how far it's gotten you. Some of your team is dead, your girl is gone, and you're driving through the Rocky Mountains.”

Andrew's head was so filled with worry for Mia and their future plans, he had forgotten his knowledge of America. He debated hitting the brakes and heading back, but then he remembered everything he'd heard about the Rockies might be a myth. Instead he pushed the accelerator down harder.

“So what?”

“The next major metropolitan area isn't for hundreds of miles,” Agent Quillian said.

“Then we won't run into anyone,” Andrew said. “You left us with plenty of gasoline.”

“As a government employee I have to tell you that there is next to no law out here,” he said. “If anyone gets their hands on you it will be personal justice.”

The man was trying to get inside Andrew's head. He knew the statistics; the vast majority of the population lived within a hundred-­mile radius of one of the major cities. ­People avoided this stretch of the country, even tourists. Andrew shook his head; Mr. Morrissey's farm wasn't close to a big city and it had been safe there. Then Andrew remembered leaving the farm and the man who gave them a ride. The truck driver had tried to attack Mia and Andrew had killed him. Those were the types of ­people who settled in places like this.

There was still a road. Andrew focused on that fact. Even if it was greatly in need of repair, it existed. They would fly through this section of the country and continue on toward the capital. Mia would meet them there. Andrew was sure of that fact. Knowing he would see her again was enough motivation to risk any danger.

 

UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

HarperCollins
Publishers

....................................

Chapter
37

The grand commander wants to build a perfect future generation. That includes arranged marriages between the women who have been left alive and our best and brightest men. I explained no woman would accept an arranged marriage in this day and age, but the grand commander has other ideas.

—­The journal of Isaac Ryland

No one at the airport gave Grant trouble. He didn't need to show identification or clearance. Grant could tell the ­people there wanted his autograph more than to question his actions. He didn't offer his signature though. Becoming a celebrity was something he had done at the current grand commander's insistence. Grant didn't want the American ­people in awe of him; he wanted them to fear him.

Grant was still waiting for a phone call or news to break about whatever had happened to the French visitors. He hated not diving right in, but it wasn't worth the risk of his involvement at this stage. Grant used the arrival of the Taiwanese guests as an excuse to land his plane at the airport, but he couldn't have cared less about them. He wanted to get Rex and make his way back to his home so he could plot his next move. The RAG agents in charge of the foreign visitors set to arrive waited on the tarmac near Grant.

“Copy that,” a RAG agent said into his microphone. He started walking toward Grant. “Sir,” he said. “I hate to bother you, but the airport says there's a man insisting he's here with you. He's becoming irate.”

“Tell them to send him down.”

Grant hadn't told the airport about Rex. He wanted his man flustered. Grant knew Rex was up to something and wanted him to witness the capture of his new employers. Grant wondered how much money Amelia and her organization had offered Rex; it must have been a lot because Grant kept the man well paid.

“Make sure they frisk him first,” Grant said. “He can have no weapons on him or anything that could be used as a weapon.”

The agent nodded his head and relayed his instructions into the microphone.

“Agent,” Grant said, “I want you and your men on high alert.”

“We were informed this was an easy assignment,” the agent said.

“You were misinformed,” Grant said. “Think of our visitors as hostile and be ready.”

“Yes, sir,” the man said.

The agent walked over toward his team and relayed their new instructions. Grant was pleased to see their demeanor change. All of them checked their weapons and then straightened up and stood shoulder to shoulder, forming a line behind the agent in charge. For a few moments Grant admired his power. The agent didn't question Grant's orders. If his initial interaction with RAG agents had been as successful, then Amelia would have never made it out of the country in the first place.

“Hey, boss,” Rex said, breaking Grant's concentration.

It had been months since the two men had seen each other. Grant looked at the looming giant. His skin was darker and his hair longer, but Grant saw the same determination in the man's eyes. That determination used to work toward Grant's goals but was now focused on a more sinister purpose.

“You look like hell,” Grant said.

The man's clothes were dirty and stood in contrast to Grant's khaki pants and lemon striped collared shirt. Grant breathed in and accidentally smelled the man next to him. He hoped Mia didn't have the same stink on her.

“And you need a shower,” Grant said.

“I've been traveling across Mexico,” Rex said. “I had to ditch my vehicle at the border and then walk for several miles before securing another to meet you here. What are we doing here?” Rex asked.

“I flew my personal plane down to get you,” Grant said. “By luck a foreign dignitary is en route to land. I wanted to greet him.”

“That doesn't sound like you,” Rex said.

“Maybe I've changed since we last parted ways,” Grant said.

He looked for a reaction from Rex, but none came. The man remained as stoic as ever. Grant was hoping to pick up on some sense of disloyalty.

“What country are they from?”

“Which would you expect?” Grant asked.

Rex was well trained; he raised his shoulders and didn't look fazed by Grant's question.

“It doesn't matter,” Rex said. “They're all foreign scum to me.”

Before Grant could ask another question a loud noise filled the air. Grant turned his head to watch the small plane land on the runway. Grant watched as the aircraft circled around. He started walking closer. He heard Rex's footsteps behind him. Grant stopped and turned to face the large man.

“I think it's best if you stay back,” Grant said. “This is an official welcoming and you're in no shape to greet anyone.”

Rex nodded his head and stepped backward. Grant glanced into his man's eyes. Grant couldn't tell if Rex was nervous or not. It was a pity he had been turned. Finding a replacement with the same skill set would take months, if not years. Grant turned his attention back to the plane. The first group started walking out. Two American soldiers, the escorts for the foreign visitors.

Next the supreme leader of Taiwan stepped out. He was older than Ian. The picture he had provided showed a man forty years younger. His wife followed, and she was close to his age. Next a woman more than a decade older than Grant stepped out. Two ­people of a similar age trailed behind her. Then the door closed.

The RAG agent in charge ordered these ­people patted down. Grant saw the look of confusion on their faces. He made it to the group and went straight toward the supreme leader.

“Is this your entire group?” Grant asked.

The man was trying to push the RAG agent away. He was yelling in another language.

“Answer me, you old fool,” Grant said.

The man looked over at Grant. He wore a look of recognition on his face and started to speak to Grant in the same language. One of the American soldiers stepped forward.

“Sir, he does not speak English,” the soldier said.

“Well, what is he saying?” Grant asked.

The soldier pointed down the row of ­people being patted down. The youngest woman, who was still close to thirty, hit the RAG agent patting her down with her purse. The agent backed away and drew his weapon. The woman let out a scream.

“She is his translator,” the soldier said.

Their leader continued to yell in the strange language.

“Bring the woman over here,” Grant said.

The RAG agent kept his gun drawn and walked her toward Grant.

“What is he babbling about?”

The woman was afraid. Her eyes glanced toward the leader and then back to Grant. “ ‘I am the king,' ” she said. “ ‘I don't deserve this treatment. We are guests. Please tell them. I am here for your wedding.' ”

The whole reason Grant wanted to meet these ­people was to ensure at least one country remained in fear of America.

“Tell him to shut up,” Grant said.

The woman translated and the man did the opposite. His voice raised and his little face started turning red. Grant couldn't stand it any longer. He lifted his hand and gripped the man by the throat.

“
Shut your mouth,
” Grant said.

This did the trick. All the rage Grant was feeling came to a boil. Mia was roaming free around his country and Grant didn't have enough information to trace her yet. She had outsmarted him again. Grant couldn't wait to get his hands on Mia and wring her neck. The image of strangling her pretty little neck popped into Grant's mind and he began squeezing. One of the women let out a cry and brought Grant back to reality. He let go of the foreign leader. The man began coughing.

“Welcome to America,” Grant said.

He turned around and stormed off. Grant glanced at Rex as he walked by. The large man's face remained still. Whatever victory Rex was feeling, Grant took pleasure in the fact that it would be short-­lived. This was a misstep, but Grant was still certain all of his enemies would fall in the near future.