We stopped for the day in a forest clearing near an overgrown lake. There was no sign of destruction here. None of the purple vines even; those had faded out a good thirty miles back. I slid my suit’s helmet back in its receiver and loosened the rest of my body armor. It was lightweight and highly maneuverable but still felt confining after a while. Sumo hopped down and immediately peed on the front wheel. We needed to make camp, and I wanted a battle plan for dealing with Nevis.

  “That was fun,” Voss said, coming up and embracing me from the front. She pulled me close and kissed me again.

  Damn, she was confusing and aggravating, but I was enjoying the kissing parts.

  “So, what do you want to do?”

  “We need to discuss how we deal with Nevis,” I said with more enthusiasm than I felt. My priorities for the mission seemed to have shifted in the last few minutes.

  “You sure that’s what you want to do?”

  Her hand was busy loosening the lower parts of my armor. “Umm… yes,” I said, not even convincing myself of the lie.

  “I don’t like you, woman. You killed me.” We were still kissing as her hand slipped inside my battle skin and touched flesh.

  “I know.” She laughed, slipping her own top off. God, her body was amazing.

  I wanted her, but yes… I have a thing with what’s her name. Oh, God, don’t be an ass. Don’t be such a guy right now.

  Her mouth moved to my neck, then she seemed to sense my resistance.

  “I want you, Joe. Now!”

  I was counting to a hundred backward, remembering Christmas morning with my grandparents, focusing on anything but this beautiful woman in front of me.

  She smiled, “Carol, right?”

  I nodded slowly. Then her hand found the one part of me that had no self-control. She kissed me deeply.

  “Trust me, she won’t mind sharing.”

  I had no idea what that meant but soon realized it didn’t matter to me either. Yes, I am an asshole. True fact, and long since being a surprise to any of us.

  CHAPTER

  FORTY-ONE

  The sex was fast, aggressive, and inventive. I’ve been through PT courses that hadn’t required as much physical effort. Both of us seemed to be needing whatever this was, and yes, I knew she could simply be hijacking my emotional connection to serve her own needs, but her actions seemed more like a release than anything contrived. The emotional component seemed non-existent, to be honest.

  Afterward, she slept long and hard. I rested for a few hours, then awoke fully rested. My dad would have raked me through the coals for getting distracted when I was on a mission. Honestly, every CO I ever had would have done the same. Times were different now. Hell, I was different.

  I used the time to talk to Ada. Say what you will for my built-in personal assistant—she doesn’t judge. “Have you come up with anything on Nevis Carlson or where we might be headed?” I asked subvocally.

  “Nothing so far, Joseph. Numerous enclaves for the super wealthy are closer to the coast. Few that show up as being particularly noteworthy and none linked to Carlson, Hammer, DARPA or any known contacts or subsidiaries.”

  That didn’t surprise me. Ada was good, but AI search algorithms could suss out nearly any personal data these days. Most people, including myself, went to great lengths to hide personal information. The world had moved to link addresses and anonymous IPs, assuming any tidbit of actual information would be stolen, sold, and used against us. After our prior generation seemed intent on over-sharing every bit of personal data, we had done a 180 and gone to great lengths to ensure our privacy. Now, it didn’t matter. There wouldn’t be enough people left to give a shit about our personal story. And those who survived would have way more on their mind than where others were spending the holidays or what they were wearing to the prom.

  “Anything new happening?”

  I’d never been much for current events, so much of the news in the before was stylized for its entertainment value that the substance was lost or meaningless. Now, though, in a nearly complete vacuum, I found myself desperate to know what else was going on out in the world. Despite the attacks, government collapse, whole cities falling apart, and the astounding number of mass casualties, broadcasts were still being posted to the working streaming channels. Gone was the need for over-sensationalizing the story. Real-life was dramatic enough. It wasn’t really news, more like scraps of news and personal observations. Still a few semi-credible stories seemed to get out. Ada distilled the media feeds knowing I was mainly interested in anything that might help on the mission or lead us to everyone involved in the original attacks.

  “San Francisco reported twenty-eight more attacks by what they are calling a killing machine.”

  “The horde?” I asked, remembering the swarm of MurderCrabs we’d battled many times.

  “Probably,” Ada said, “although the descriptions are incomplete and seem to vary wildly.”

  “Parts of Brazil have gone completely dark,” she continued. “The capital city was not in the initial attack, leading some to speculate that the TWC might have been using it as a staging area. Now, there is no news coming out of the area, and drone overflights show no signs of life… or destruction.”

  That is troubling, I thought. They weren’t attacked, at least not conventionally. “Bioweapon?” I was thinking more of the shit that had hit us.

  “No further information, but my own assessment is no. The vines and creatures leave a very recognizable trail of destruction, and the drone footage shows none of that.”

  “Okay, what else?”

  “Paris, there seems to be a significant human resistance coalescing in the ruins of the old city.”

  “What are they fighting?” I asked. Times had changed, no longer was the question ‘Who?’

  “Unknown, Joe, but a large explosion took an ancient castle fifty kilometers outside the city and unearthed a network of subterranean tunnels. The tunnels were modern and apparently still in use, although doing what is unclear.”

  The story was intriguing but didn’t seem particularly relevant to our situation. My heightened acuity understood, though, there had to be some connection. “What else?”

  “I think you will find the names of some of the missing or captured interesting.”

  Damn! She was right, I did. Reading the list, one of the resistance fighters names jumped out at me immediately. “He was lost at the castle breach?”

  “Yes, that appears likely.”

  “What other information do you have on that location?” I asked.

  “It’s provenance and current ownership are a mystery, but I think it is something you should discuss with your friend.”

  I looked over at Damiana who was beginning to stir. Was she my friend, and what in the hell would she know of an attack halfway around the world? Whatever truths I was chasing just kept getting more and more confusing.

  “Hi, handsome.”

  Although it was still dark, my eyes could pick out her flawless face lying beside me. “Hi,” I said, trying to force a neutral tone. I didn’t want her to read anything into this.

  “Thank you. For last night, I mean,” she said in a sleepy voice.

  She pulled the edge of the sleeping bag from her naked body, affecting me again with an overwhelming sense of desire.

  As if sensing my hormone levels increase, she shucked herself out of the bag and stood. “I’d love a repeat, but I think we have a busy day ahead.” She gave me a quick peck on the cheek and went into the bushes. I assumed she needed to take care of business, but with Damiana Voss, who knew?

  I broke down our small campsite and slapped a hot patch onto a small thermal water bladder. I made myself a cup of coffee and a tea for Voss, who sipped it thankfully while she dressed. A part of me wanted to discuss what had happened between us, but somehow, I knew that was the wrong thing to do. This was a woman who knew what she wanted and had no issue in taking it. Last night she had me in her sights. Tomorrow, who knew? I had to stop this. Focus on the mission, Kovach!

  We mounted the Indian and began again in the early morning light. My helmet was sheathed, and it felt good to hear the early morning sounds and feel the wind on my face. My rear passenger’s head rested on my shoulder much of the time. That was pretty nice, too. There was no smell of decay here, nor had any creatures bothered us during the night. My Spidey sense told me that the danger we were facing would be something more conventional. If Carlson was behind this, he had likely spared this part of the country, so he would have a safe-haven, a walled garden of sorts in the midst of all the destruction. Either way, Voss indicated we probably had a few hours before we would run into trouble.

  The thick forest around us reminded me of my little mountain cabin 800 miles or so to the south. I wondered if it was still standing. Had it been looted or overrun by now? Mornings there, the valley would have been filled with the smell of wood smoke; here, there was nothing, just the rich earth smells of the North woods.

  I remembered what Ada had suggested and mentioned the attack in France. I felt Damiana’s body stiffen. She motioned for me to pull over. She jumped from the bike and put her hands on her knees. I wondered if she was about to be sick.

  “Those fucking bastards,” she said with clenched fists.

  The woman was pissed; her expression was animalistic in its raw fury. I quickly realized I only knew a fraction of who this person was.

  “Your people?” I asked, assuming it as fact.

  She gave me a side eye and nodded reluctantly. I knew next to nothing about the woman, but Ada and I both had guessed she was a part of something much larger.

  “My Sisters,” Voss said, her eyes filling with rage instead of tears.

  “They were your family?” I asked, confused.

  “Are my family,” she said confidently. “They were attacked, they are not gone.”

  Her voice had lost its hint of British formality. Now it sounded darker, more ancient. Hints of German or Slavic even. Voss was a chameleon, a shapeshifter becoming whatever she needed to be. This was her at her most basic, her most dangerous. It was also the first sign of vulnerability I’d ever seen from her. She was human, but like me, seemed a lot more at times.

  I hesitated, then put an arm around her and drew her close. She resisted briefly then leaned in and accepted my comfort. I heard what sounded like prayers, then cursing in hushed breaths. I stroked her hair and let her get it out. I couldn’t fix it; I didn’t even understand it. All I could do was to be there for her. Whatever ‘this’ was, cut deep into this woman’s soul.

  Finally, she drew in a breath and straightened. “Thank you, Joseph. I am glad you are with me. Nevis will pay for this.”

  “You’re sure it was him?”

  She looked toward the rising sun and nodded. “It explains why his man was hunting me in the desert. They have been hunting us for a very long time,” she answered.

  “Your sisters?”

  Her lips tightened as if she had already revealed too much. She gave a simple nod and walked away, tapping her comms and making a call.

  I resumed my position on the bike. I tried not to listen in, but my hearing and Ada’s were good enough to pick up fragments of the conversation. Whatever it was involved someone named Lumia.

  “Ada, anything?” I subvocalized. She obviously had connected Voss to the battle scene overseas, but I had learned that was often through the accumulation of varied and otherwise random data points instead of something more tangible.

  “Working on it, Joseph, but may take some time. There isn’t a lot to go on. I believe we can assume she comes from an interesting family.”

  CHAPTER

  FORTY-TWO

  Bertrand Acevedo moved deeper into the shadow so he could watch the monitor. He knew he’d struck a blow but sadly, not a killing blow. That was disappointing; he’d burned many assets and far more money than he’d wanted to pull off the attack. Still, he’d missed her. The Grand Mother of the Sisters of Light had not been where he’d been assured she would be.

  He wasn’t worried, he knew his boss would be pleased. They had definitely hurt the pesky group. One the Sisters would not easily recover from. Learning the location of the backup facility had not been an easy task. The Sister who had finally revealed it still hung from the ceiling beams of the old church a dozen miles away from the ruins. At least parts of her were still there. He’d meticulously followed the almost invisible trail of leads from one person to another before finally reaching the woman. She was a minor player in the Sisterhood. She didn’t even know anything of its scope or mission. Still, she was aware of the long-abandoned Château de Lavardin and its subterranean vaults.

  Now, the ancient castle was indeed ruins in every sense of the word. It was difficult getting an accurate headcount, but his spotters had seen over a hundred of the small body bags being carried out of the rubble. Then the spotter had gone silent, as had the man’s brother a short time later. Now, Bertrand understood the Sisterhood was using whatever means needed to track him down. His mission had been to deliver a message to the Sisters of Light, that did not include revealing himself.

  “Thyraa.”

  The woman nodded silently but didn’t otherwise acknowledge the other. Thyraa was busy doing what she was good at, dissecting and analyzing. In this case, it was fragments of the bombs that leveled the complex. She brought her fingers to her nose. The smell was unmistakable, octanitrocubane. She pursed her lips, then made a call.

  “Yes, OCX-9, and a lot more than was necessary.”

  She eyed the perimeter as she talked. This had been very intentional, a direct assault on the Sisters. No one had been that brave or that stupid in a very long time.

  “Yes. Right away!” she said in response to the question. “Paris is not good. The machines, they are a problem. The water is also fouled.”

  She closed the connection and continued her examination. Her heart was with the resistance fight a hundred miles to the north, but Lumia herself had commanded that she take charge of this. After Morocco, the ruins had been the single largest sanctuary for the Sisterhood. This was not a strategic target, simply one of opportunity for their enemy. The chateau was but one of several in Europe that helped with recruiting and introducing new arrivals to the ways of the group. The vast majority never made it beyond these walls. The rigors of daily life, the discipline, the restrictions all were too much. That was where the system had failed. One of the acolytes had gone missing just days before the attack. She’d been sent to the makeshift market in a nearby village looking to acquire fresh vegetables.

  The skin pricked on her neck, and Thyraa wiped away the sweat and grit. It didn’t ease the feeling, though. Years in the field had taught her many things; mostly it taught her to trust her instincts. Whoever was responsible would want to see this, they would want proof of how successful the attack had been. She bent down looking as if she was studying a charred bit of timber, but reaching beneath her cloak, she activated a remote sensor grid the complex had. It was decentralized and would not have been affected by the blast.

  The sensors were designed by the group’s own tech department and were better than anything else available. Checking the thin, flat panel display, she saw three targets light up immediately. They were small and stationary, so not drones. Motion activated microcams judging by the size. So, the human spotters hadn’t been the only thing they were using. The Sisters had gotten little from the two locals other than a foreigner had paid them. First for odd jobs, then to watch the ruins and report in.

  Her first instinct was to send a pulse through the grid to fry the cameras, but that might negate possibly finding the perpetrator. No, she needed to pursue this from another way. Track the signal, see where it led. Giving no sign she knew anything, she deliberately walked away from the location of the cameras and took another call.

  “Allo. Oui! Comment allez vous, Dami?”

  “I’m fine,” Damiana said, and physically that was true. Inside, though, she was torn apart.

  Thyraa said the code word that let Damiana know it wasn’t safe to speak openly on her end.

  “I understand, can you tell me…”

  “She was not here, Dami, she would have never come here. We did lose many of our Sisters, though. You will be filled in when I can,” Thyraa said in a language that was neither French nor English. “We are still very much at war, my Sister.”

  Bertand gently closed the small device that offered him the voyeuristic thrill and then looked out over the marshes. He had what he needed. Carlson would be pleased. He placed his hands behind his back and walked up the short incline to the main house. While his attention was still back in France, he was in fact nowhere near there, despite Thyraa’s feeling of being watched. Damiana was far closer to him than her ‘sister’ was.

  CHAPTER

  FORTY-THREE

  “Son, look–I just want to know one thing. Who left the bag of idiots open?”

  You know, as soon as I think I am a mature individual, a seasoned veteran, and am immune to my father’s abuse, he opens me up and guts me with a single statement.

  “Idiots?” I asked…knowing better.

  “Yeah, you have a full team of elite Rangers. You have a squad of Army assaulters, you have a fucking warship, yet you dropped into a red zone with a fucking dog and a stick.”

  It wasn’t a stick; it was a pulse rifle, but I knew better than to argue. His point was still valid, as much as it pained me to admit that.

  “My contact here believes that the enemy masses against opposing forces, so the more we bring, the more they bring.

  “This contact is the same one that shot you, right? I believe she nearly killed you?”

  “Your point?”

  “Well, hell, Son, if you can get past that, ya’ll should get married. Start on a family right away. Your relationship will have nothing as tough to overcome as her killing you.”