The convoy pulled up outside a warehouse, and Jonah slid on his helmet. “Stay here and be safe.” He didn’t kiss her now, fully immersed in the mission, and she understood even if her chest ached a little.

  Sitting in the vehicle as the door slid open and he jumped out was the hardest thing she’d done yet. This operation was dangerous. They could be ambushed, the feeds from the headsets compromised. He climbed into another vehicle, and she watched as it slowly drew off, heading to the rear of the building.

  McNally slid forward and filled Jonah’s seat. “We can take the feed on these screens, see what Maylin does.”

  McNally touched a button, and the screens rose on hydraulic arms, lifting out of the armrests.

  Daniella settled back, her screen showing five different views. One from each of the building security cameras and the front of the vehicle.

  The vehicles slid into position, waited.

  “Vehicle one in position.”

  “Vehicle two in position.”

  One by one, four of the five reported in.

  Her driver tapped a button. “Vehicle five. Acknowledged.”

  The doors slid open, and carefully, sliding into view, came the operatives, black-suited and weapons held upright as they scanned. This time one of the other men carried the camera. It made Jonah less of a target, Daniella surmised.

  A hand signal at the rear—Jonah, she guessed—and they moved forward. “Engage on all fronts.”

  They swarmed, and Daniella held her breath.

  Doors slid open, the people rushed inside, camera feeds from the helmets filling her screens. Each room, sparsely furnished, led to a long hallway.

  * * * *

  Jonah swept the room, his rifle moving left and right while he gestured to his people to fan out.

  “Sir, we located the steps and are moving now.” The leader of his eastern force would secure the first floor while he and Senna’s team would take on the main tactical room, which he’d been led to believe was on the ground floor.

  “Excellent. Western force? Check the basement. Be alert.” he murmured, but Maylin had tweaked the specs of the audio.

  A long corridor waited, and he crept along with it, adrenalin pumping in his chest. If they could take the major, they’d have a hope of picking off whoever was the highest-ranking officer. He hoped like hell it was one he didn’t know. If they could close down the military arm and chief strategists, they could go after the kingpin. He couldn’t see the military heads going into this blindly, without an awareness of who put together the masterplan.

  They reached a doorway, and he snatched up the small handheld scanner on his belt. The last thing they needed was to find it was wired to some security device.

  The light glowed a determined green, and he exhaled. “Entry this side clear.”

  Senna repeated his words, and he gave a tiny nod. “Green for go.”

  He turned the knob, and the door opened. For just a second he stopped. The room before him resembled a bunker, with maps scattered, personnel pinning notes to boards, and electronic operators seated before communications devices.

  “Maylin, block signals now!” His bark had people scattering, but his team was better prepared. They lunged and rushed, grappled and snatched.

  Jonah spied the major and headed in his direction. The man was chalky white, panic clear in the way his mouth hung open.

  Major Olante reached down for his sidearm, and Jonah flung himself across the chasm between them.

  He reached him as the man tugged the small snub-nosed item from his holster.

  Time slowed; his hand clamped on the major’s arm.

  “Get off me!” the major screamed with horror.

  Jonah hung on, using his body to ram the man from his seat and into the wall.

  Olante oomphed, reached up with the other arm, telegraphing the punch he aimed at Jonah’s unarmored neck, at the point where the helmet didn’t meet the top of the suit.

  Jonah dodged, breath coming in pants.

  “Get him down!” Senna screamed into his earpiece, but the grapple continued, as Olante swept out with his foot and unbalanced Jonah.

  They fell, bodies crashing together and landing heavily. “Fuck!” The epithet joined with the rocketing pain, but Jonah jerked at a hand, smashing left and right against the floor while rolling on top of the squirming man. “Give it up, Olante!”

  “I won’t!”

  Jonah balled his free hand and thrust it into the man’s face. A crunch echoed and a spurt of blood landed on his visor. He didn’t have time to clear it as Olante bucked. With a savage move, Jonah grabbed the man’s hair and whacked his head against the floor. With a wheeze, the man went down.

  Jonah waited, his breath squeezing from his overtaxed lungs, and checked the man. “Still breathing.”

  He glanced around to see his people had subdued the others. “Eastern team? Western?”

  “Sir, you really need to come up to the first floor.”

  With a grunt and more than a twinge, he rose slowly, spied one of this team. “Secure him and get them loaded into the van. I’m heading up. Senna?”

  A form separated from the others slid up her visor, and the grinning woman spoke. “I forgot how much fun this was. Maybe I was getting a little stale in the arson investigation unit. Once the war is over, I’m not sure I’ll return.”

  He merely grunted and headed to the back of the building, and for the stairs he’d spied earlier.

  One of the team waited and lifted a visor. “Sir? We found a whole bloody maternity ward… Or something like that.”

  They made their way down a corridor of white walls and frosted glass, and panic congealed in his belly. A maternity ward? They’d had no idea about… His thought stopped as he stepped into the room.

  Cradles lay in rows, tiny babies slept one to each cot. He did a quick tally. Twenty-four. “Holy shit!” The fact that unnerved him was that each child lay supine, a tiny cord running from ceiling to the mask laid over each child’s face.

  “That’s not all, sir. I think they’ve been attempting an artificial womb. In the next room, there’s like maturational chambers—that’s the only term I can think of.”

  He followed the soldier, feeling somehow old and infirm in the face of such a sight.

  Five tanks met his gaze, each with a viewing screen. He walked up to one and peered within then reared back in horror. “What is that?”

  “It’s a fetus. Early in pregnancy.”

  He started at Senna’s voice. “How the hell did you know that?”

  She pointed to the screen attached to the unit. “Says here ‘eighteen weeks’ on the chart. And even I know it won’t survive if we try to move it. It’ll require whatever is in the liquid being fed down through that tube up there and who knows what else?”

  Above them, a transparent tube carried a gray-green liquid. “Shit! You’re probably right. But we can’t leave them here, can we? I mean they’ll just reinforce this and continue making them. We have to…” The thought curdled in his belly.

  “Yeah. We will, Major.”

  He shook his head. “What about the infants?”

  “How the hell would I know?”

  He grunted, slid down his visor. “Michael, are you seeing this?”

  “Yeah.” The answer was infused with rage and loathing.

  “They won’t survive, according to Senna. Your take?”

  “No. If you can grab a mask off one of the infants, we should be able to run an initial test through your scanner. But I’d say they should be okay to transport. Jonah, you’re going to have to hurry says Maylin. There’s a force headed your way.”

  Jonah grunted and hurried back to the room. He whipped off the mask on the infant nearest and held the scanner to it. “Michael?”

  “It’s nutrients. Load them up, Jonah. You’ve only got minutes.”

  “Are the prisoners from the ground floor secured?”

  “Yes, Major. Do you require…”

  “I need about ten men. We have to get these babies transferred to the vehicle and get out of here. Senna? I need to blow the building. Can you…”

  “On it now, J.”

  The people in the room began transferring the sleeping infants, snatching the tags, and sliding them under the napkins and placing them three to a crib. They carefully lifted them. With the assistance of members of his team, each crib duly laden was carried from the building. With care, they were raised into the vehicles waiting to transport them to the base.

  “Everyone accounted for?” He squeezed up close to Clarissa who gawked at the basket containing two infants thrust into the floor space.

  “Everyone is loaded up,” Senna answered.

  “Good. Light it up and let’s get out of here.”

  The vehicles started sliding forward, as a light followed by a boom shook the ground. They sped up and into the night.

  * * * *

  Daniella waited as they came to a stop by the health center on the base. “What are you going to do?”

  “First, we’re going to drop these babies off to Michael and Clarissa, then we’ll need to visit the armory and divest ourselves. And I need a shower. And a stiff drink.”

  He looked as ragged as she felt. Watching him in the maternity wing had both educationed and sickened. “We couldn’t have saved them?”

  Jonah shook his head. “You got it all on the vid?”

  “Yeah. But to be honest, I’m not sure we should play all of it. Maybe show the maturational chambers, the children we’ve…” No words seemed appropriate to describe how they’d liberated these children and given them hope for the future. Or what had become of those they’d left behind.

  “We can’t think like that. Now come on. The others should have arrived at the base now, and we’ll need to interrogate Olante when he comes to.”

  By the time they’d showered and settled into the small office Daniella had claimed as her own, Michael and Clarissa had arrived.

  “Their status?” She leaned forward in her seat as Michael laughed.

  “You’re just like a mother hen, Clarissa. They’re all in prime condition, well-fed and matured. They only have minimal tech in them, the vision you got briefly. Maylin was able to gain by breaking into their system, which according to her is substandard and without high-level encryption shows that they planned to insert more once they’d achieved maturity. The infants were all awaiting implantation. There is still only a twenty-five percent success rate. The others are…”

  “What?”

  “Don’t ask.”

  Now Daniella’s stomach roiled and she stumbled for a chair. “They treat those infants as disposable.”

  Jonah crouched before her. “Look, I can’t say that any of this is palatable, but we got some useful medical data. We know now, how they increase the maturity of the children, force the evolutionary push. We also have hard data on the testing regime, and so on. We still don’t know how many there are or where they’re scattered. But this mission was a success. Together with the footage, the intelligence we’ve received, and what we’d gleaned previously we can release bits to the public. Hopefully enough to educate them. We need more assistance than we currently have, Daniella. We’re fighting an urban war, and there’s going to be casualties. People will blame us. Some will understand the reason we fight is for their freedom and others won’t. We can’t let our emotional hang-ups strangle what we’re doing. We’re the good guys, and they need to know that.”

  Daniella bit her lip. “What will happen to the infants?”

  “I’ve spoken with Doctor Aros, and we think what should happen is they need families. He suggests a form of adoption. Only, they’re going to be more like special needs babies. We can’t let them off the base in case they end up in the wrong hands. He’s suggested the married and committed relationship couples should be asked if they’d be willing to take them on.”

  Daniella glanced at Jonah, and he smiled, gave a tiny nod.

  “Michael and I are going to seek one. We’re probably in the best position to understand their needs.” Clarissa settled herself on the seat opposite Daniella.

  “How soon do you think they’ll be ready for families?” Jonah lowered himself to the corner of the desk.

  “I’d like to keep them under observation for the next few days. We’ll need to stabilize a nutritional supplement and schedule. Plus, we’re going to need to find a way to get our hands on the stuff they need.”

  “Makes sense. So, I guess we’d better organize ourselves, Jonah.” She grinned as Clarissa’s eyes lit up.

  “A wedding? How exciting.”

  The conversation turned personal, and when Clarissa and Michael left the room, they remained still, basking in the happiness until Daniella cleared her throat. “It’s a shame my parents can’t be here. I guess when David and McNally sort their complicated relationship out, maybe things will be settled.”

  “Much as I’d like your parents here, they’re safer where they are. But I’m sure if we asked Maylin…”

  “I like the way you think, General.”

  She slid out of her seat and stepped in front of him. He opened his arms, and she leaned in. “We should probably call it a night.”

  The rumble of his chest and the poking of an inevitable part of his anatomy told her why.

  “I’m sure that can be arranged, soldier.”

  Chapter 23

  The room was sparse—a table, several chairs, and the recording equipment—and Jonah rested back in his seat, the battered major opposite. The cuffs likely chafed and the seat had no padding.

  “So, we have recovered the rest of the team on the premises. Several are already singing, Major. We also found the maturational chambers and infants. My people were able to hack the systems, so we have invaluable information. But you’re not clever enough to organize and run such a plan.”

  The major blanched but remained silent as he had since being fastened to the heavy metal table.

  Daniella, the admiral, and even the subdued and chastened ex-general shifted in their chairs, but Jonah remained calm and quiet.

  “We also managed to hack into the system you were using. It seems Operation Break Point was not as successful as you hoped. Why did you continue when your attack on the base brought forward no rewards? Your attempt to capture the senator was also a failure. Your booby-trapped residence also yielded no results. I can’t see any superior officer settling for that, can you?”

  “We didn’t need to.” The major spat his answer at them, and Jonah restrained the smile. Needling the man clearly would yield more results than an intelligence line of questioning.

  “You’re career army. An officer but languishing at the rank of major. How many years?”

  “I didn’t sleep with a senator to achieve promotion.”

  A bubble of anger rose, but he buried it. Keep your cool. He’s getting frustrated—the red tide on his neck the most useful indicator.

  “No. You didn’t stand out. You’ve got bumps and numerous instances of being disciplined.”

  Before the major could do more than open his mouth to remonstrate, Jonah raised his hand to stop him. “Come on, Major. Do you think we wouldn’t realize that you, with your skills and contacts, wouldn’t find a way to get even? To be more than some low-level, desk-based jockey? You were born for greater things. To do and be more than these has-beens would allow you to be. Weren’t you, hm?”

  “I’m going to be a senior officer in the forces once you and your puny resources are crushed. Once Cassington realizes that I…”

  “Cassington, Lieutenant General?”

  Olante stopped, opened his mouth like a floundering fish, then seemed to shrink in his seat.

  “You’ve got no spine, Olante! I worked out pretty quickly that the best way to get you to spill what I needed to know was to needle you. That’s why you’ve been passed over. You’ve got a big mouth and bigger ego.” Jonah hunched over the desk, face tight. The man quivered before his fury. “Now you’re going to tell me who else.”

  The man turned purple and shook his head, and Jonah laughed.

  “We’ll find them all, clear out the nest. This is your only chance. Give us the names or face the full force of the court-martial process.”

  Olante’s eyes widened further, wheeling with terror.

  “Do you know what happens to traitors of the republic? There is only one sentence, Olante. Death. It’s pretty damned final, and you don’t strike me as someone who’d handle a firing squad well. They chain them and—”

  “Ah, McDowell, do we need to…” Daniella intercepted just as he’d requested.

  “He could turn informer. Give us the rest of the names. Might get hard labor, but at least…”

  Olante shuddered in his chair. “Okay, fine! I have names, but I want to be sure—”

  “Names first, then we can agree.”

  “But they’ll kill me! If they get hold of me, I’m dead. Come on, McDowell, you know how it works.”

  The unpleasant whine and the ripeness of fear made Jonah want to edge away from the man. He had to finish the job because they had to cut the head off this hydra before it could rise again.

  “Names first. If the ones you give us ring true, I am authorized to offer you a deal.” He shrugged and settled back.

  “Get me paper and a pen. I’ll give you everything I have.”

  * * * *

  The day dawned bright and fine. Clarissa hovered at her shoulder, fluffing her hair one more time. “Last time we did this, you and Michael had a big celebrity wedding. Now Jonah and I. It was only weeks ago, but feels like a lifetime.”

  Clarissa stared over Daniella’s shoulder, capturing her gaze in the mirror.

  “You wanted all the pomp and circumstance?”

  Daniella considered her words. “Maybe twenty years ago, but now I know the important thing is Jonah and I will be married. You and Michael, even David and McNally, will be there. My parents will attend via vid link.”