The ties they’d packed slid around wrists and ankles, then they finished off with tape over their mouths.

  “Good work,” Franklin said.

  A sound echoed from outside, and the frantic thud of his heart seemed loud enough that surely whoever was outside would hear it.

  “Clear,” came a voice, and he and the team scurried under the bunk beds at the back of the room. They’d just hidden when the door cracked open. “All appears fine in bunkroom four.”

  He waited as the patrolling officer, a youth of perhaps sixteen or so, scanned the room. Does he suspect something?

  He held his breath until the door shut. Well-trained, they remained still and silent. The oldest trick in the book was to close the door as if they were leaving, then their quarry would think the coast was clear until the watcher slid back into view.

  When the door opened again, they were still safe, hiding.

  His breath stirred the air under the bed, a sneeze building in his throat as eddies of dust rose.

  When the door shut again, he closed his eyes, controlled every impulse, but the sneeze erupted anyway.

  He crawled out, signaled to the others do the same, and they crept to the door and peered around.

  The guard who’d entered stood at the corner, scanning something on a hand-held unit, and a split-second decision propelled Franklin forward, hypo in hand. The boy dropped before he could raise the alarm.

  “Get him into the bunk room.” He bent, scooped up the communications unit, and swore upon seeing the details on the screen. Heightened security—breach expected.

  “They’re not onto us yet, but we need to move fast. They’re expecting some attempt at a breach and recalling units.”

  The second team called in, advising that they’d secured the other occupied bunkhouse. Now for the main building.

  They moved with speed now, feet churning as they neared the building. Then once against the rough wooden exterior, they stopped and took a moment to catch their breath. He reached once more for the pouch hanging from his side.

  “We need to take them alive if we can. Engage masks.” The small device in his hands would emit a sleeping gas. The other team members were similarly equipped, re-breathers which they attached firmly.

  On the count of three, he smashed the plasglass window nearest and lobbed the small ball inside.

  He heard echoes of the same action, watched as wafts of gray smoke emanated.

  It would only be a matter of moments, but every precious second counted toward the lives and deaths on the battlefield.

  Franklin curled his hands into a fist, counted down in his head, then pushed up, going in the direction of the nearest door.

  It crashed open, and he fell as something went bang near his location. “They’ve booby-trapped the building,” he yelled, a cacophony of sounds coming from varied directions.

  Feet thudded, and he shifted away, rolling and levering up from the floor.

  Black-clad legs raced into the room, kids wearing masks. “They expected something like this.”

  Not well thought out, Franklin!

  Still, they were better trained. He moved forward, ready to counter their attack, as a pair of black legs caught his attention from the side. He feinted, dropped for the deck, and swept out with his leg.

  An oomph sounded, and he tore off the mask of the first child. Enough of the sleeping gas remained that it would do the job. Two more came at him, he missed a jab to the ribs from the first and returned a kick to the knee. The kid screamed and went down.

  His fingers scrabbled for the breather as the third charged. Eyes glinting in the smoky haze, he reached and a pop sounded.

  A splatter of blood and pain radiated from his shoulder.

  In the doorway, a woman stood, laser pistol in hand. “You won’t defeat us.”

  CHAPTER 20

  Senna wasn’t sure what made her uneasy at first. They were well-hidden, weren’t they? The battle was far enough away… Until the sound of vehicles and incendiary devices echoed.

  “We have to get out of here,” she screamed at Devonham, who sat stock-still, just as he had since the beginning of the battle.

  “But… But they’ll kill us!”

  His wheezing words didn’t stop as Senna frantically tugged at the netting over the top of them. “They’ll kill us anyway. Hear those fizzing noises? They’re incendiary devices. They’ll burn anything in their path.”

  The wild thud of her heart almost drowned out the screams she heard, but there was no way she’d bow to the terror ripping at her brain.

  She reached down and tugged the man by the arm. “Ever climbed a tree before? Or a rock wall?”

  He blinked at her. “What?”

  “We’re going to head into the forest. There’s a sheer rock wall, but if we can make it up one of the trees, we’ll be on a ledge. There’re usually caves in these types of mountainous regions. We get in, hide.”

  He shook. “But I don’t run.”

  With a growl, she reached for the man, hoisted up the camera, and screamed, “You do now.”

  He was a weight, every step twice as hard because he was either unfit or unwilling to run. But he was also her responsibility, and she took that seriously.

  “Come on,” she cajoled, and hissed when he tripped and fell.

  “Go on without me,” he cried, a piteous lump at her feet.

  “If only,” she muttered, tugging Devonham up again as the sound of wheels squeaked nearer. “We don’t have time for this. Now move!” Senna dug deep, found every ounce of fury and leadership and infused it into the words, and this time, without a sound, he followed her command.

  They reached the sheer rockface.

  “How… You expect me to climb that?”

  “Yes. Now climb this tree here. Get up!”

  “I’m… I’m afraid of heights,” he whined, and she growled.

  Give me strength! “Move it, otherwise we’re dead.”

  He blinked, and she shoved him, waited as he gripped the trunk, then she gave him a push. Finally satisfied he’d reached a high enough branch, she headed up behind him. At the top, she scanned and started to shove her weight back and forth so the tree swayed.

  “What… What are you doing?”

  One more pass and she gripped a boulder. “Climb over quickly.”

  He did, moaning and crying the whole time, and she wanted to hit him, anything to stop the noise. “Hold my hand and pull me, otherwise I won’t make it.”

  Indeed, the tree would fling her back, either into the next one or down to the ground. She took a moment to prepare, exhaled, and pushed off, muscles screaming with exhaustion. Even as she moved, so did the tree, in the opposite direction, and she flung herself. He grabbed both arms and tugged. Feet dangling against the rockface, she fought for and found purchase, slid around the boulder and onto the ledge.

  Gasping for breath, Senna wondered how the hell they would survive this hellish situation. Fires licked at the forest, smoke clogging, and now for the first time, she could see the reason for the sound of a vehicle. The all-terrain vehicles they’d come here in had been taken by warrior kids and they’d mowed down trees.

  Probably looking for those getting away. Senna tugged Devonham down behind the boulder, finger on her mouth, indicating he needed to be silent.

  He nodded, perspiration trickling down his face, his eyes wide open. She noted the bellowing of his chest and hoped she wouldn’t need to deal with a cardiac issue.

  Peering around the side, she cautiously watched the warrior kids’ actions. They clambered out. Argued, hands flying before throwing something at the vehicle, then they ran, laughter filling the air, and she smelled the smoke.

  “Damn. Stay down, Devonham!”

  The boom was followed by raining metal. She covered him with her body, more than aware that anything else would telegraph their position if the kids had remained nearby.

  They coughed, and she checked, sighing when she realizing they were alone. She stood, her body protesting the aches as they pushed aside the rubble from the now smoking hulk.

  “Come on. I need to get you inside and safe, then get out there. They may need my skills.”

  He babbled, but she ignored him. Senna knew things were pretty dire, and even though she was only one person, her skills in the field would assist.

  The first cavern she found was shallow, so she discounted it, but the second appeared to be just what she was looking for.

  A quick scan satisfied her, and she pressed a small laser pistol into his hands. “If it’s not me, shoot. I don’t care who it is. Here’s some rations.” She shoved the packet into his hands. “I’ll be back.”

  Now she ran, the ache in her side reminding her she wasn’t yet in optimal condition as he cried, “Don’t leave me alone here!”

  The man-made ledge continued for some distance, and she followed it, aware that these areas had been mined in the past for the minerals contained in the rock. When she reached the end, Senna stilled and looked out. The trees thinned, and for the first time, she could see the carnage.

  Knots of fighting remained, and Senna dropped herself down, sliding on the shale rock until she reached the base. A small laser pistol in hand, she advanced, looking for enemy combatants. She’d nearly cleared the forest when two ran into view. One saw her, gave a warning shout, and headed toward her. She set the pistol to stun and fired. It found its mark, and the child fell, but the other, quick as a snake, ran and tackled Senna.

  She went down, assuming a defensive position.

  A fist found its way to her stomach, and purely on instinct, Senna reacted, blocked the second blow, then aimed a short punch at the child’s face. Blood spurted, and the kid reared back. Her pistol lost in the tussle, she reached for her pocket and palmed a hypo. As the kid made to hit her again, she jabbed it hard against the kid’s neck. He slumped and she pushed away, her chest heaving as her lungs screamed for oxygen after the exertion.

  “I’m getting too old for this,” she muttered and stood, looked down, and found her pistol.

  With efficient moves, she tied up the kids to the nearest tree, making sure they were secure, then padded off.

  Senna headed for the field when the boom hit, and she looked up. Her mouth hung open and her heart stopped its rhythm. On the mountain above, a plume of smoke and debris rained down.

  Franklin clutched his shoulder as the woman eyeballed him. “So, here you are. The last ditch effort of the human race and defeated by an old woman.” Except she wasn’t. This was the face of Elmira Sandhurst. In her early thirties, the long blue-black hair pulled ruthlessly back and her body encased in a skinsuit of what he assumed was ballistic material.

  “Mrs. Montaine, I presume.”

  She smiled a tight grin. “Yes and no. But since it’s all over, my warriors have overtaken the field, it’s all a bit late. So, I can take some time, share my greatness with you before you meet your end.”

  The lack of concern on the woman’s part was unnerving. After all, she might have him controlled but his people were the best. He had to not only believe they’d carry the day but do it quickly.

  So, he’d let her talk, and he’d capture it all, relay it back to base.

  “Of course, I had hoped Jonah would come himself. And David. Such a nice boy growing up, shame he and his siblings chose the wrong side. Daniella would have been an amazing assist to our side, but there you go.” She spoke with light tones, waving one hand in the air. “But you? You’re simply a grunt. One I can use. My warriors need training and I’m sure you’d do an admirable job. We just need to harvest your knowledge from your mind.”

  His skin crawled as he realized exactly what she was alluding to.

  “Oh yes, we’ve got that technology, thanks to the work of Dr. Jeremy Colvert and his students. They made such strides while conducting their experiments. Shame we lost the girl and she somehow broke the connection. But these later generation children, they have been rewarded. We learned a lot from his experiments.”

  He tried to put two and two together. “You mean they’re connected?”

  “What? Oh yes, I only need to give the command now to the central warrior, but don’t worry about that. They’re all here with me. My children. A much better way to create life than giving birth.”

  At that he scanned the room with his gaze. Where is Lilly?

  “Looking for my daughter? Don’t worry about her. She’s only one of many and flawed. But we will rebuild her, just as we did with Clarissa. She’ll make an excellent warrior one day.”

  Fear bloomed. “Here? You’re working on her now?

  The woman grinned, lips spread wide like scarlet slashes. “Of course. I’ve been working on building this facility ever since Jeremy was taken prisoner by your lot. Can’t lose my momentum, now can I?”

  The cramping in his stomach grew. They had to stop the mad woman because if she created another cybe, one without the restrictions of empathy no one ever would be safe.

  Franklin knew, without a doubt though, there was no humanity in this woman to appeal to. Instead he rose, unsteady and weak from blood loss. His mind now a fuzzy mess. “You can’t do this.”

  The glint of mirth burned away as madness shined in her gaze. “Who’s going to stop me? You?” Her laugh grated on him, and he used the strident sound to hold onto consciousness. One hypo left. Franklin sucked in an unsteady breath and pounced.

  She went down, arms and legs flying.

  They scrabbled together and he aimed for her arm, but the hypo bounced off. He hissed as she dug her nails into the injury.

  Franklin tucked his chin to his chest and flashed up, catching her bony jaw. She flew back, head striking the doorjamb with a thud.

  He panted, found the hypo and injected her anyway. They needed her secured.

  Franklin’s fingers slipped, blood dripping down her arm as he utilized the ties and bound her securely. The tape he slipped across her mouth then without a moment to lose, pressed his comm. “Find the operating theatre. They’re undertaking cybe-therapy on Lilly. We have to stop them before the implants are completed.”

  Feet flew, men acknowledged. Dimly he heard the sound of combat and slipped through the doorway, then stilled.

  His men had done their work. Teams of children lay supine on the floor, every one secured and Erin and David trained pistols on them.

  Franklin smiled, the first tight grin to pass his mouth since the mission began. “Well done. I’ve got Mrs. Montaine in the next room. I’ll bring her in.”

  David nodded, and he marched back in and dragged her into the room, dumped her in the corner. “Watch her. She’s not quite right in the head.”

  “The others?”

  “They’ve spread out, mostly upstairs looking. They’re reporting nothing unusual.” He snarled, knowing there had to be more.

  Now Franklin followed the corridor, opening the doors as he went. At the far end he entered a room, frowned when he noted it went nowhere and there were no windows.

  “Unusual,” he muttered and began poking and prodding at the walls.

  He tried pushing at the notches on the wooden walls, pressing the leaves of ornately carves leaves. A bookcase, lined floor to ceiling beckoned next and he tugged on every book and hissed when a click sounded. The bookcase pivoted and he grinned. “Follow the hall to the end room. Secret door hidden in a bookcase.”

  “Inventive,” responded David, and Franklin grinned at the dry observation.

  The man joined him moments later and he pulled the door open to reveal an ante-room of stark white and the door ahead featured a small round plasglass window. He peered inside and almost threw up.

  Surgeons surrounded a body, or at least the remains. “They’ve already begun.” He turned and saw David looked as ill as he felt.

  “So now what?”

  “We contact Jonah and Michael. We don’t have the skill and expertise.”

  “We have to stop them though, otherwise they’ll continue while we wait.”

  David was right. Two more of his men joined them. “Sevres and Fairburn. Go in. Stop the surgery but have them keep her on ice. I don’t know what else we do. I’ll contact Jonah and Michael. David you stay here, I’ll send Erin down to assist you while I make contact. No one else in and only the non-essential medical staff out.”

  He retreated, to the room beyond and called in to base. “Jonah, we have a problem. They’ve started surgery on Lilly Montaine. Cybe Therapy.”

  The man swore. “We need assistance from Michael. He or Windhower will know what needs to be done.”

  The line blanked for moments then both Dr. Sara Windhower and Michael filled the comm screen. “What step are they at?”

  “I’ll check.” He retraced his footsteps to the theatre and stepped within.

  Franklin averted his eyes, not so much because he hadn’t seen injuries and death before, but because this was a needless and intrusive operation. One that was both unnecessary and immoral, to his thinking. “I need to know what’s been done.”

  The surgeon simply smiled. “I won’t be telling.”

  Franklin growled at the response and the frustration he felt had his fist balling. He contained himself. “If she dies…”

  The surgeon shrugged. “Others will be doing the same. All over the world. The call went out and our people are legion.” In his eyes lit the fire of mania and a shiver coursed down Franklin’s spine.

  “You’re mad,” he whispered, but the man simply smiled. “No. Driven by the cause.”

  He reached for a hypo and Franklin pushed his hand away, but not before the hypo discharged against his hand. “What…”

  The lights dimmed and he fell, aware of his loss of consciousness. “Call Michael… Tell him…”

  Even as he lost awareness the bitter scent of smoke rose.

  Senna wheezed, her gaze searching for the reason the children simply stopped. Now, they appeared lost, as if someone had flicked a switch. She set about rounding them up, making them sit on the ground before looking for others who could assist with guarding the children.