“I’ve got most of the parts, Maylin. We can build one and test it if you have access to—”

  “If you’re missing things, I may be able to configure or print it out for you three dimensionally.” Maylin shrugged.

  Senna nodded. “I have fragments of things that we can cannibalize to create these boxes. We’ll need a set for every team. How long do you think it would take? If I needed parts?”

  The door burst open, and Franklin entered the room. “Sorry, I had to go with Michael on a quick patrol. We ran out of some medications he needed urgently.”

  Senna took a moment to fill herself with the view of the man who she’d foolishly treated poorly. He looked super-inviting. At six feet, he was the perfect height for them to nestle cheek to cheek. His short, dark hair against weathered, dark skin was incredibly masculine, while his dark chocolate eyes were the sort a woman could get lost in.

  He was large, but not the muscle-bound of cover models, rather the tough-as-nails variety that came from hard work, and for a moment, she considered what he’d look like, shiny in the sun, coated in a layer of oil, and her mouth dried at the vision that rose.

  “We’ve been quite successful, Franklin. Your girl Senna here is pretty on the money with her keywords, and we’ve managed to find specs for a nose that will sniff out the compound.” Maylin grinned, and Senna wanted to duck out of sight.

  His smile was tight, as if he held back his emotions on a rope. “Excellent.”

  Maylin looked from Franklin to her and back again. “Well, I’ll take these specs back to my basement and see what my team and I can conjure up, shall I?”

  “I’ll need copies too,” she called to Maylin’s retreating back, aware that Franklin was watching her. “Frank, I—”

  “Franklin. Everyone calls me Franklin.”

  Head tilted, she studied his face. The chiseled jaw and sharp cheeks. “Franklin, I acted like a dick last night. I don’t know why, only to say that the kiss sort of short-circuited my brain.”

  She watched as his wide lips clamped harder, so white lines edged them.

  “Franklin, I’m trying here.” Senna fought the urge to squirm.

  “Okay, so here goes. I’m a little intimidated by you, Senna. You’ve got it together, and I know it sounds like a cop-out when I say I’m not good enough, but honestly, you need someone who can match you. Your wits and—”

  On a frustrated groan, Senna closed the gap between them, grabbed his hands, and pulled him against her body. “You’re a kind and caring guy, Franklin. One I’d like to get to know socially. Don’t pull the ‘you’re better than me’ crap, because I don’t tolerate that rubbish easily. Okay?”

  His eyes crinkled at the corner. “You like to talk bluntly, don’t you?”

  Senna shrugged. “Seems to me the other option is diplomacy, and I think it’s safe to say that—”

  The klaxon split the air, and Senna sucked in a deep breath. “We need to get out of here.”

  Franklin tugged her to the exit, his hand already unsnapping his MX-517 from its protective holster.

  Senna cursed, realizing her tiny MIG-11 was in her lockbox. “Damn!”

  He turned, eyes scanning for threats. “What?”

  “I left my weapon in the lines.”

  A smile wreathed his face, and he pulled her into an alcove and bent down to lift one pant leg, exposing a calf holster containing a MIG-11. “You know this one, right?”

  “Oh yeah. I have one just like it.”

  He shoved it into her hand. “If the base is under attack, stay behind me. I’m a bigger target, and it may just save your life.”

  “Screw that,” she ground out. “I don’t stand behind any man. So, move your ass.”

  Franklin blinked. The alarm meant they were under attack and everyone who wouldn’t be shoring up the breach was to report to the commanders. He, however, was required to guard Michael, Clarissa, and other non-combatants. Including the many infants on the base.

  “What duty were you assigned?” he asked Senna as they barreled around a corner.

  “Non-combatants,” she panted, her long legs eating up the ground they had to cover.

  Franklin nodded. As the most senior guard positioned in that location, it was his duty to ensure the safety of those unable to fight. Perhaps if he placed her close to Michael, Clarissa, and baby Eliza, he could concentrate better. Meanwhile, he would be taking the position in the tower so he could see the battle and direct his teams to either disperse and cover the civilians or provide necessary backup if required.

  “I need you with Clarissa, Michael, and the baby. Their protection is your main role.”

  “Wait!” she called as he peeled off, heading for the tower. “Where will you be?”

  “In the tower. Go. Find them, keep them in the center, and be careful.”

  Franklin sprinted, heading for the tower, weaving through knots of gathered civvies who cried and huddled as they ventured to their designated locations. He watched as his men forced them into the center of the grounds and inside the infirmary, then took up position around them. As they’d drilled, the babies were protected in the middle along with their medical staff.

  At the base of the tower, he sent one last glance in the direction of Senna’s location then put her out of his mind as he shoved his rifle strap over his head. It crisscrossed his body, and he began the climb, arm over arm as legs found and used the ladder to propel him upward.

  When he reached the top, he stopped and glanced in the direction of the noise. There was a gaggle of children at the gates, and he noted a plume of smoke, but it was the far edge that caught his attention. “Damn!”

  Reaching for his communicator, he hailed Jonah.

  “What?”

  “Possible incursion to the north corner. I’d say they’re attempting to concentrate your attention. Using it as a distraction while smaller numbers move at the edges of the eastern and southern boundaries. The north corner is the greatest mass. They’re attempting to get to the colony ships.”

  “Dammit. Can you lead a team there, put Senna on the tower as she hasn’t the combat experience but is a clear head?”

  “Will do.”

  There were a few men he’d need on the guard duty, and leaving Senna in control of the tower made sense, but his brain was ticking over the fact that they were dividing the teams into even smaller troops.

  “We need more men,” he muttered as he clambered down as quickly as possible.

  “As soon as I can spare them, we’ll reinforce you,” answered Jonah, and Franklin broke the connection.

  Finding the ground, Franklin shoved his way through the doors. Throngs of people gathered in the way and he shoved past them. “Senna!” he bellowed.

  She appeared before him, her face a flat mask.

  “I need you on the tower. Watching out for the movement of the children. We’ve got an attempted incursion on the northern corner, heading for the colony ship. I’m taking a group to defend.”

  Her face tightened. “But you don’t have enough men to adequately protect—”

  “We’ll make do. Tower, now.” He stepped away, looking left and right for Sevres, Fairburn, Alamede, and Sorrantes. As he rounded them up, he glanced and noted Frecklington, who he’d served with, and hailed him over. “Frecklington, stay with Michael, Clarissa, and the baby. Direct from in here. Senna is taking over on the tower.”

  Franklin’s gaze narrowed while he considered the men waiting by the door, and he strode over to them.

  “Follow me,” he ordered.

  They hotfooted across the base, hurdling bikes and anything else that lay discarded on the way.

  “Northern corner, attempted incursion. Heading for the colony ships. Reinforcements coming soon, we just have to hold the line.” His rifle bumped against his leg as he moved. Franklin couldn’t spare the time to glance back to make sure they were keeping up. They needed speed to save the ships.

  The whole time his mind spun, considering what he knew about the project, the children, and trying to work out how they’d advance. It would be sneaky. Underhanded. They’d need to employ guerilla tactics with so few men to cover the area. We need our wits about us.

  “Sevres, Fairburn, take the left. Your job is to take out anyone who gets through with suppressive fire. Don’t care about the age or gender. Just do the job while staying low. Whatever it takes, men. Alamede, I want you to take the nearest building. Hunker down and snipe away. Sorrantes, scare me up some flash-bangs. We’re going to need them.”

  He checked his ammo pouches. Full. His knives were sharp, but he had a couple of extra items perfect for these kinds of skirmishes. He’d front them first, create confusion so his men could do their jobs.

  He knew Sorrantes. The man had been a demon in a fight, cunning and inventive. Just what they needed right now.

  Franklin glanced around the area, chose his location with care, more than a little aware that once Sorrantes began hurling flash-bangs he’d have to back off. “Just gotta buy everyone time,” he muttered.

  He patted at his pockets and dragged out a favorite up-close-and-personal tool. The gloves he retrieved were heavy, studded with lead on the top yet supple enough to still be able to use his gun and the knives he wore. These tactics would be brutal, but effective.

  Next, Franklin tugged on the helmet, battered and scarred. He’d worn it during the war. But it was a necessary piece of equipment, mouth cover closing over the filtered breathing unit. Franklin considered, then he advanced to the spot he’d chosen, working his way along the barrier obscured by bushes. The wire would slow them down for a moment or two, depending on what equipment they carried.

  Franklin heard them long before he saw them. They may be trained in aspects of warfare, but they missed some of the intrinsic values of silence in these situations. For a second, he wondered if that training was purposeful or through lack of experience and qualified trainers.

  Their not quite fully developed voices raised, calling out actions that would probably confuse those opposing them. I don’t need to hear them to know what they’re going to do. His hands on the wire just beyond the bushes tugged and pulled until it started sagging. He waited a moment longer, letting them achieve a false sense of safety.

  The flash of wire cutters propelled him into action.

  Dashing out, he caught the nearest around the ankles in a lock, tugged the teen down and cuffed him. The teenager howled and bucked. Others turned, and he hefted the boy he’d just flattened, used him as a battering ram, shoving the others crowding around back.

  The teen turned limp, and Franklin dropped the body as a rifle swung in his direction. Franklin dipped, turned, and it sailed millimeters from his head. His left arm moved, swooping in a wide circle, caught a boy of about fourteen in the chin, and down he went in a hail of blood and teeth.

  Franklin grunted, all thought beyond survival melting back. Every move instinctual, he danced with those who came at him, cutting a swathe down the middle so what should be a cohesive unit splintered into two ragged groups.

  In the teens’ eyes he read hesitation and confusion.

  Exactly what they needed.

  The comm unit in his helmet squarked. “Flash-bangs on site.”

  He didn’t turn, knowing his back would present an easy target. Move forward or retreat. Retreat was the best option, but he spied a child ahead. She looked exactly like Liv.

  His gut curdled at the thought that Clarissa and Michael may also be facing her clone, and he took a step in her direction, her gaze superior and it fed the fury in his soul.

  His senses otherwise occupied, he didn’t see the gun butt, but felt the impact for a second as it crashed down on his head. Even though it glanced off the helmet, the reverberations echoed through his brain. Awareness compromised, he barely heard the sound of the device detonating.

  Children fell around him, the sleeping gas infused flash-bang a quick and effective tool. Thankful for the breathing apparatus in his helmet and the ballistic material, he still fell back under the explosive action.

  The sky and everything around him turned gray, then all disappeared.

  CHAPTER 5

  Senna fumed. What the hell was Franklin doing going into the center of a bunch of warriors in a hand-to-hand tussle on his own?

  They’d brought him in, having fended off the attack, on a stretcher. He was still out cold, and for a moment, fear blossomed inside her. What if he’d sustained some as yet unknown injury and didn’t wake up?

  “He’ll be fine when he comes to,” Michael muttered after they’d removed Franklin’s headgear. “No broken bones, but he’ll likely have a concussion. Even now, he’s starting to wake.”

  Waiting outside the door with Jonah and Daniella, who’d been touring the medical facility since the skirmish ended, wasn’t exactly where she wanted to be.

  The panic filling her made little sense. After all, she was the lone wolf girl. The one who went it alone. Didn’t need or want anyone fussing over her.

  Except this time, someone she liked had done exactly the same thing and come off second best.

  “He’ll be fine, Senna.” Jonah placed his hand on her shoulder.

  She wanted to remonstrate, to assure them that it was only because she could see friendship between her and the man currently unconscious in the room beyond that caused her to act out of character. The thing was, she couldn’t quite bring herself to say the words aloud. Because they weren’t true.

  “We need to finish the rounds.” Daniella steered her husband away from the doorway, but Senna continued to hover.

  “Se… Senna?” She heard her name, and the knot of worry in her belly—the one she’d tried hard not to acknowledge—eased.

  “She’s just outside, slugger. Let me check you over and I can call her in if you like.”

  The door offered support as her limbs turned watery and her eyes burned.

  “Now.” Franklin’s voice carried a steel undertone, and Senna wanted to both cheer and yell at him. Instead, she straightened up, rounded the corner, and looked at the bruised man lying on the bed.

  “Well, you’re a sight.” Her voice almost sounded normal. Except for the squeak at the end.

  Michael glanced at her as if reminding her that Franklin was a patient, but emotions warred inside her, jagged waves of panic edging out anything else.

  “Sorry, Senna.” Franklin reached for her, and for the first time, she noted the bloodied leather gloves studded with metal.

  She tugged away. “What are they?”

  Michael stalked around the bed. “Meant to get them off before. Just a moment.” He assisted Franklin in removing them, showing his swollen and deeply bruised fingers and hands. He didn’t move a muscle, not a flinch or even a hiss of pain, but she saw echoes of it in his eyes.

  Michael dropped the gloves onto a tray, and she moved back in. “Why? Where did they come from?”

  Franklin hissed this time as he shrugged. “They’re a little something extra I picked up in the services. I knew things would be bad, and I needed every tactic I could lay my hands on. Had to buy time. Worked, did it?”

  Her face tightened into a scowl, her muscles screaming. “Just. They had reinforcements on the way when a platoon from the southern barracks arrived. We’ve now got more prisoners, and one looks just like—”

  “Liv?”

  “I was going to say Clarissa, but yeah, I guess. That was the stupidest, most foolhardy move I’ve ever seen, Franklin. What the hell were you thinking?” She crowded in, needing to make the point.

  “I’m a good soldier, Senna. I followed my orders. Saved lives today. The colony ships survived, didn’t they?”

  Michael harrumphed. “They didn’t get past you to it. We think the plan was to get only a couple in, those who were particularly trained in aeronautics and engineering. We discovered as some of the children were awakened that they showed an aptitude. It seems along with the cloning, they’re now training specific children with skills for those areas. We just have to hope that none show an aptitude for biological warfare.”

  Senna gulped. “That’s not even worth joking about, Michael.”

  But when he raised his gaze to hers, she staggered back. “I wasn’t joking.”

  Franklin watched the briefing from the wheelchair Michael had insisted on, but he felt stupid sitting there like some kind of baby.

  “We’ve got reinforcements on the way. David and Erin have made contact with the ex-service personnel they dealt with previously. Daniella is pulling every string to get as many transported by air to the base to bolster our troops. We’re days away from the launch of the first colony ship, and for some reason, the warrior children want to disrupt it. While it doesn’t make sense, we have to focus on getting that safely off the ground. We have a payload of nearly six hundred civilians, one hundred and twenty military and medical staff to launch. Plus the captain and his crew. This can’t go wrong, people.” Jonah stalked around the room, scratching his head, and stared at the gathered personnel.

  Franklin waited, Senna perched beside him like some kind of odd, avenging nurse who’d strike at anyone coming too close. Her reaction to his wounding was puzzling, as was her hovering. He’d never had that before and had no frame of reference.

  “Do you need something?” she whispered as if she’d spent all her time focused on him.

  “No. Just trying to think why the colony ships present as high on their target list.”

  Erin came running into the room. “I have it! I know why. We’ve just interrogated one of the teens, and they let slip that if they could gain control, they could not just halt our population of the planet, but also take direct control themselves. They’re planning at not just wiping out humanity as it’s been for centuries, but also growing their numbers. Expanding their dominion as she put it. Including the other planets.”