Under His Guard (25 page)

Such assurances meant little to me.

We scaled the four-meter-high defensive barricade on ropes hung from grappling hooks easily enough, but time was already whittling away too fast. I was the last one through the small aperture in the circular death trap of barbed wire. I skimmed down the opposite side, landing soundlessly on my feet.

With silent motions, Linc herded us along the interior wall toward CO HQ. We listened to the growing disturbance coming from outside the Quad, waiting for entry into Company Headquarters. The service entrance steel doors we huddled against wouldn't budge unless seriously blown up, or if Denver followed through with his promises to deliver us straight to Cutler in his eagle's nest.

During the minutes that elapsed, we tested out comms links to one another and quadruple-checked our rounds. Even though I wanted to focus solely on getting the cure for Leon and getting the hell out—regardless of anyone else's fate—I couldn't forget my comrades. The mule-headed idiots who had pledged their lives and love and honor to save Leon.

The Revolution had brought us to this point. I scanned the faces of Liz and Linc, Nathaniel and Cannon, Darwin, then lastly Sebastian and Farrow. They were cool and calm, willing to risk their lives to save Leon's, ready to die in the fight for freedom.

“For Leon, my man.” Cannon held out his fist. I hit it with my own.

Similar strong words echoed all around. Their conviction instilled new confidence in me.

The door opened without a sound. Denver, his hair in a long braid, stood inside the black marble corridor. He waved us in. Shivers of excitement raced up my spine, replacing the chills of dread. Once we were inside, we all locked our guns on Denver.

He huffed a dry laugh, swinging the door shut behind us. “You all have trust issues.”

“Hardly surprising given your track record.” Liz lowered her weapon only when he raised his hands to show they were empty, not that he couldn't go for the wicked-looking blade glinting along his thigh.

Denver scanned his thumbprint on a wall module and moved us into an empty room.

“We wait here,” he said. “Cutler's surrounded by advisers and para at the moment. Too many threats.”

“Then he better be quick about it,” I hissed. “I'm not a very patient man tonight.”

“I could tell you a story to pass the time.” Denver lounged against a long table.

“Not interested.”

“Not a man of curiosity, warrior Darke? But I find you very curious.”

“I'm a killer.” I flickered back to what Leon had said. I
was
a killer. Tonight I would be again, asking very few questions, if any.

“I'm interested.” Sebastian sidled up to him.

“Why don't you just blow him while you're at it, baby boy?” Liz wryly intoned.

Sebastian had changed during the course of our mission. Where before he would've blushed and stammered, now he merely rolled his eyes.

Denver's dark eyes widened at the suggestion. He ran the backs of his fingers down Sebastian's arm. “
Hmm
, sweet one. For you I will tell the tale of how I came to be here.”

“How the fuck long is this gonna take?” My nerves started jangling all around.

“Until we get to the end, yours being the end of the CEO.”

“You could just KO him again,” Cannon suggested.

Ignoring Cannon, Denver continued. “I used to be just like your Leon, Darke.” His black gaze drilled into me. “A rent boy in Nu Territory, many years ago. There was one problem: In addition to selling my ass to the highest bidder, my pimp whored me out for cutting games. He assured all my johns I enjoyed getting sliced, even got off on it. So this happened.” He shifted his face toward the light of a halo, and his ghostly scars shimmered.

“I didn't have a warrior or friends to take me away from the street corners, where men practically stripped me bare in public so they could ram their cocks up my ass after they added their notch on my face. That was the real game to them. These scars are how many times I was used against my will simply so I could eat one meal a day and perhaps sleep on a mattress instead of a piece of pavement a few nights a week.”

His story made me feel sick. Cold waves of horror from everyone else drowned me.

“One day, Cutler rescued me. He was on a political junket in Nu. Of course, he meant only to make a public spectacle of the man reaming my ass out in the open, yet he took me under his wing. He didn't use me, not that way. Not ever, not to this day. He merely made sure I cleaned up after him, kept the deviant homosexuals at bay, and used my rage for his betterment—well out of the public eye.”

“Christ Almighty, Denver. I never knew.” Linc stared at the man.

“Why would you? I am simply your father's bodyguard.” Denver smiled. “I do appreciate the times you have spoken to me in the language of my people, though.”

“What about the tats?” Sebastian asked in a soft voice, his fingertip trailing along Denver's neck.

“The dragon tattoo was so I could rise up one day and tear apart those who used me. It's taken ten years of planning to get to this point. Trust me”—his hard gaze never wavered—“I killed the rest of them. Over the years, as silent as a reaper. I made sure they all knew why before I slit their throats wide open. Cutler exploited me in a different way. Though he was my savior, he was also my captor. You are not the only people who seek revenge. I will make sure this is seen out.”

“What did he do to you?” I asked.

“It's not what he did, but what he made
me
do.” Denver focused on Sebastian, carefully caressing his cheek and forehead as if marveling at the unmarred beauty of him. His lips quirked when he said, “Ah, and Cutler did change my name. He got tired of pronouncing my given name, Deyama.”

“Deyama?” I held out my hand. “A pleasure to meet a fellow rebel.”

Silence followed our handshake until Sebastian pulled that darkly handsome, scarred face into a kiss. Denver lifted Sebastian to him, winding his hand down his back, following every passionate move of his mouth.

They were interrupted by the sound of a D-P.

Breaking free of the blazing kiss, Denver spoke into his mouthpiece. “What?” He held up a hand so we would be silent. “He's what?” His mouth tensed. “Got it.”

He signed off and turned to address us. “Civilians are inside the Quad. Cutler let them in. They know rebels are here. They know it's you. Cutler's making a break for it.”

That was our go.

When we burst from HQ's main doors, the formerly quiet Quad was a wall-to-wall, foaming-at-the-mouth insurrection. Black ops or not, there was no fucking way we'd keep our cover in the fomenting crowd. Troops and civvies meshed together. One group shoving, kicking, screaming their way forward, the other shouting, shooting, sending them back toward the gaping gates.

Denver came over the earpiece. “Need to locate Cutler in this melee.”

Ditto that, except things got real hairy, real fast. If we didn't want to be compromised, we needed a way through.

A fist flew at my face and I knocked it aside. Guns rattled off from every direction. The black night was lit by bright pops of live ammo. We ducked and ran.

“Diversionary tactics.” The order came down from Linc. Rules of engagement were in place. We couldn't—we wouldn't—engage the civilians. Cutler had outfoxed us again.

But we sure as fuck engaged the Corps para, who roamed like black bugs throughout the rebellious crowd. This was not a time for mediation or trying to talk people into seeing our side of shit.

Nathaniel wielded his machete. Liz let her sniper rifle guide her. Linc and Sebastian pulled up the rear, and we all forged forward.

Drones dropped out of the sky, popping out enemy fire that razed through fighters on both sides with no consideration whatsoever for civilian life.

We made it to the ramparts of Corps Command. Another endless round of drone machine guns chewed up the pavement just in front of our feet. Above the whistles of bullets, Darwin let loose an almighty squeal that almost burst my eardrums.

“Tone it down, soldier,” I commanded. “Undercover, remember?”

“They're not after us,” she replied.

“What?”

She shoved her D-P in my face. “The fine, upstanding citizens of Delta T are chasing Cutler. They're following
him
, not us. Look! They're uplinking his location to the D-P network. Denver, you old dog, you opened the airwaves to all?”

There was a bright spark of white from his teeth as he smiled in the dark.

“I'll be goddammed.” Cannon watched Cutler's infrared sat image like a predator on the scent.

My mouth hung open in shock. For once, an InterNations-wide manhunt was not targeting us.

Darwin snickered, gently pressing her fingertips to my jaw.

“MOVE OUT!” I shouted.

“Aye, Captain. Where to?” Liz asked.

“What's his position, Darwin?”

“En route to the medical building.”

“I've got to cut loose here.” Denver broke free of our group. “I'll see you inside. Just follow the trail.”

He disappeared like a wraith into the masses. But as we prepared to follow, the masses parted for us. They created a tunnel of human bodies, pushing us forward, shouting us on. Guns clicked all around, but they weren't aimed at us. As another formation of drones banked over the Quad, gunfire crackled into the air.

Plane parts rained down in showers of hot metal. Sparks spit at our feet. We blasted open the door of the med building with all weapons firing. Crouched as one, tracing the pristine white surrounds, we tracked blood and sweat and death inside the hushed emptied enclosure.

An open door at the end of the hallway beckoned us. Cold white light shined from within. I took point with everyone else at my flank, spreading out.

We entered the room.

The sight of Cutler, sweat-free and smug, reached down into my gut and jerked me upright. Our almost victory over him had backfired. He'd led us exactly where he wanted us.

Behind him, Doc Val was strapped to a chair, at gunpoint.

Beside her, bound and gagged, was Leon.

W
e were immediately surrounded on all sides by troopers who had been waiting just inside the room. Outmanned, outnumbered, out-fucking-maneuvered again.

With my head down, I glared at Cutler through slit eyes that were surely sharp enough to cut through him.

CEO Cutler looked a lot more gaunt and aged in person than on the daily promos. Must've been some nifty tricks with lighting or tech enhancements. Across the room, he had the haggard look of an old buzzard, not the white-crested eagle talking down to us from the worldwide D-Ps. But that didn't matter one damn bit, because once again the cunt held all the cards.

I swung my gaze toward Leon. His arms and legs were strapped to the chair, and the rag was stuffed too deep into his mouth. He coughed, his eyes widening like an animal led to the slaughter. His face turned red, then purple.

Inside I was dying. My heart lurched in my chest. All-consuming, all-firing rage burned from the top of my head to the balls of my feet.

Leon blinked rapidly, a tear leaking down his cheek. I clenched my hands to keep from rushing to him, my own eyes filling. I watched him draw in a breath, then another until his skin color returned somewhat to normal.

It was only then I took note of the large dark figure looming over Val. It was none other than Denver—our last hope—holding the gun to Val's head.

Seeing him standing there so unperturbed thrust me over the edge I'd been hanging on to by my fingertips. I barreled toward him, bullets loaded, guns drawn. I gave a mighty war yell and jumped across the space separating us—only to be taken down and relieved of my weapon by a tangle of troopers.

“Disarm the rest of them,” Cutler instructed.

He casually walked around our group as we were pushed into the center of the room. Hands behind his back, he inspected each of us with a superior slice of his eyes, a taunting tilt of his lips. He paused far longer in front of his twin sons, who matched his stare with withering glares, undaunted by the man who had beaten their mother and tried to usurp their lives.

I strained to peer past the blockade of soldiers to Leon, ready to go feral to get to him. Before I could find an opening, Cutler called out, “Restrain them.”

It was Denver who did the honors. He moved swiftly, with certainty. This obviously wasn't his first hostage situation. I surged toward him with a snarl when he came near me, but he merely raised an amused eyebrow, so like his mentally unstable mentor. The eight of us were bound together by the wrists in a circle, with our backs facing inward. A fantastic defensive position if we had our weapons, the worst possible scenario in a situation where we had no access to firearms.

If Denver were truly on our side, he'd have shown one small mercy and left the knots loosened. I tested the bonds as inconspicuously as I could. Every movement from one of us tightened the wire already biting into our wrists. We weren't going anywhere, and it looked like Denver was the one making sure we went down.

Circling his quarry, Cutler once again appraised each of us.

“An interesting, if mongrelized, group you have here. You know how I hate the mixing of races and the abominable acts within the sexes.” His voice was tinged with revulsion. He pinched the bridge of his nose, as if our Freelander-Territorian smell offended him. “I can understand some of your motives. Darke here, for instance. You simply have no choice but to act on impulses like an untamed animal. As for the rest of you…noncompliance with Company laws is strictly forbidden and goes against the grain of normal human behavior. Which brings to me to our dear Farrow Monroe.”

He stopped before her, worrying one finger over his thinned lips. “I must say, I'm concerned for your well-being. If they pressured you into this abhorrent position because of family ties—”

Farrow interrupted. “Actually, Lysander, Ah'm a lesbian.” She spoke in her soft, lilting drawl, with the blunt force of a weapon. “And the only thing abhorrent about this situation is you and your ignorant, blinded bullshit beliefs.”

“What?” His mouth fell open in shock.

“I make love to women. I love women, their sweet bodies and even sweeter taste.” Her angelic features never wavered, but he looked at her as if she were possessed by the devil.

Disgusted, he turned to Sebastian. “Surely you can talk some sense into your sister.”

“'Fraid not. See, I'm gay.”

“Insolent boy!” He whipped out and backhanded Sebastian. “This is what must be stopped.”

Our shouts rose. Our shoulders strained, only tying us tighter together. At least that kept Bas upright when the unforeseen blow would've knocked him off his feet.

Cutler smoothed both hands down the sleeves of his suit jacket, calming himself. “It's seems I misjudged the malleability of my citizens, all of you as well as those traitors outside.” He shrugged. “I'm not certain what I should do here. We can watch Leon die in a few hours. Then you will all be infected. Of course, my people are inoculated. How I wish you—Lincoln and Nathaniel—were still my people, my sons, but your deeds and actions speak too loudly to be ignored.”

“You fucking asshole!” Cannon savagely stamped forward, dragging us all with him.

He was stopped short by the metallic click of guns prepared to fire on us.

“Commander Cannon, I've waited almost a year to see you again. I'm sorry to have missed your splendid captivity at the Outpost. I hear waterboarding didn't set well with you.”

“Shut up, Father,” Nathaniel said with deadly malice.

“And I heard you were too much of a pussy to do your own dirty work,” Cannon returned, blazing right ahead. “You fucking coward. Can't even get your own gun out, and you probably can't get it up anymore, either. I don't give a good fuck what you do to me; this fight will go on.”

“Ditto that, Commander.” Liz stood directly behind me, clasping my fingers.

We all agreed loudly, strongly, with our shoulders drawn back.
Fight to the end. Die for love. Die so Leon could live
. I shoved my chin up, my jaw made of stone.
Die for Leon.

“Ah, Lizbeth. It's so nice to see you again. You seem as outraged as ever. It appears even my son can't domesticate your baser instincts.”

She bared her claws at him. “As it so happens, Linc doesn't think I need to be tamed. And you are not allowed to call him your son anymore, you cocksucking, motherfucking pig.”

“You know you're going to burn in hell for this, Father.” Like Nathaniel, Linc astounded me with his cool, unflappable presence, but inwardly, I felt the tension brewing within the two brothers.

“I'm so disappointed in you boys. So disappointed. I can see now there's no convalescence to cure you. You were made in your mother's mold. It's why I had to adopt a son of my own making. A killing machine of sorts. My Denver. He who has never questioned me, back-talked me, or broken his promise to serve me and serve me well. I saved him once, and he keeps me safe in return. I prefer his methods to yours. He does not bow to the useless futility of emotions.”

Stationed once again at Val's side, Denver allowed a fleeting smile to cross his features.

Cutler moved away, leaving us at gunpoint. He jerked Leon's chin up. “Alas, I think I will have to wipe everyone off the face of the planet again and start virtually from scratch. I really didn't want it to go this far.” His milky blue stare arrowed on me. “And it will start with Leon.”

I held myself caged within the tight bonds of emotional restraint, a perfect mirror to the physical ones tethering me to everyone else. I gave no response other than to dive deep into Leon's eyes so he could see the truth of my intentions.

His expression smoothed over in acceptance of his fate. Seeing his hopelessness made my heart race in my chest.
He will not die today.

“You asked if I carried my own gun. If I know how to wield it, former Commander Cannon, dismissed from duty in contempt of court.” He drew out a Glock. “I assure you, I do.”

Sound exploded in the chamber—the gun going off with a bang, curses flying from our mouths. The bullet whizzed through the air and hit Farrow in the thigh. She pulled us back with the impact.

Beside her, Darwin shoved a shoulder beneath the wounded spy. We pulled outward against the bonds only to snap back to one another.

Cutler holstered his weapon. He smiled a snake's smile.

“This is wrong, Father,” Nathaniel shouted, pushing forward.

“You are wrong. I am right.”

He was insane, completely fucking insane.

I listened to Farrow bite off whimpers of pain, to Leon pounding the chair legs against the floor.

Cutler spoke into his D-P. “Bring in the trolley.”

The doors rumbled open to reveal a lab table on wheels, covered with a cloth. It trundled between our circle and Leon, Val, Denver, and Cutler. Cutler flipped off the cloth to reveal hundreds of vials separated by a thick red line on barren white fabric.

“This is the antidote serum.” He lifted a small glass ampoule. There was probably one milliliter of liquid inside. That was all I needed.
It's so close.

He held up another vial from the opposite side of the table, clinking the tiny capsules together. “And this is the virus. It's our special new rapid strain—isn't it, Dr. Valary? Even faster than the one used in Omega. It takes mere minutes to overload the body's system.

“I cannot abide by you
people
any longer.” Cutler's eyes turned glassy and his breathing shallow. Spittle dripped from the corners of his mouth like a dog gone rabid. He wiped it away as an afterthought.

Leon eyed the table as hungrily as me. The martyr in him probably wanted to inject everyone else in the room with the serum before himself.

“I don't even have any demands tonight. You can all go to your graves.” He stoppered the bottle of antidote, gently guiding it back between the glistening glass columns.

“Cure Leon and infect me instead. Make me Patient Zero,” I said.

Cutler turned a curious look on me. “Why should I do this?”

“I'm the bigger prize.” I heard Leon make a choking sound, but I didn't look at him.

“That is true in the grander scheme of things, but you're all going to die anyway.” He peered between Leon and me for a moment before he shook his head. “No. I'm not convinced. You really have nothing to bargain with, Darke. Whatever will you do?”

“You have a very special hate for Leon”—
a sickness
—“why not keep him around? With the rest of us out of the way, he'll be yours to use as you wish. I know you get off on it.” I spoke through gritted teeth.

“He would certainly be a tortured little soul after you all died on him.” Cutler grinned as if he knew how much those hated words cost me. “But that means Leon will be forever safe from the outbreak. That wasn't my plan, and you're wasting what little time you have left.”

“Why wait for Leon's Plague to go live? Infect me now with the new one and you get a front-row seat to everyone's death.” I upped the ante.

I watched Cutler consider for a moment. “That was almost a decent trade, Darke. But I'm afraid I have to decline.”

I growled in frustration.

“Eden. She'll come back to you. She will. She'll do it for Leon's life.” Linc's offer made my head snap toward him.

“What the fuck, Linc?” Nathaniel hissed.

I wanted to oppose Linc's suggestion, but I couldn't. He knew his father better than anyone, and Cutler showed his first true spark of interest.

“That's the best idea I've heard all night. Perhaps you have some of me in you after all.” He gave a fond slap to the side of Linc's face. “You all die and I get to keep Leon as my pet and Eden as my wife? How do I know she'll agree to it?”

“Call up the commune.”

“You call.” Cutler produced Linc's DP and put a call in to the commune. He held the device near Linc's mouth.

I couldn't listen to the conversations as Hatch located Eden. I couldn't think about the implications as she agreed to sacrifice herself to the monster who had made her life a living hell. When the comms ended, no one spoke. Morbid tension held us still and silent except for Leon. Pronounced veins stood out in his arms as he struggled in the chair. His muffled shouts echoed throughout the cold, white room.

“It appears our little whore has something to say.” He pulled the gag from Leon's mouth and dropped it to the floor.

I stamped my feet, trying to get closer to him.

“Darke, what're you doin'?” Leon barely forced the words through dry lips.

“Saving you.” I felt silent sobs shaking those all around me. I didn't care. All was lost, but at least Leon would live.
Oh God, I want to touch him one more time
. “I love you.”

Someone would come up with something—a plan to get them out of this. They'd all been through impossible situations before. Releasing Leon from the virus was the only way I could ensure he would survive. He'd get out. He was wily.

“Self-sacrifice in the name of love. It almost warms my heart.” Cutler shook two vials at me. “I think it's a fair trade, especially with my wife coming back to me. You are more valuable to the Revolution, Darke. Leon's just a slut.”

I'd made my peace. I nodded.

Leon's chair screeched across the floor. “NO!”

“Or I could just infect Darke, too. I don't really see the point of one or the other.”

“Don't you fucking dare, Cutler,” I threatened. “You give him the antidote first, then infect me. Otherwise you can fuck my gun sideways.”

“Strong words from a strong soldier. I would expect nothing less. We have an agreement.” He gestured between Denver and Val. “Let her go so she can get to work.”

Dr. Val looked sick. “I don't think I can infect another person…”