“I wouldn’t count on it,” Malik said. “I’ll carry Sarah.”

  Alex nodded.

  “How’d you know there was a second one of those things?” Jackson asked.

  “Those things are called reptirs, and they always hunt in pairs. I know because I read the manual. I should have realized what was happening sooner.” He turned to Diego. “I didn’t save your life. I nearly cost it. I’m sorry.”

  “No complaints from me, Gunny,” Diego replied.

  The Scorpions moved out once more, Alex setting a punishing pace through the jungle. Malik carried Sarah on his back, letting her sleep. They wove a serpentine path, doubling back and changing direction at random intervals. Twice, he fired shots into the air, drawing fresh rounds of recon drones that hampered their movement, but hopefully, it kept the enemy from guessing their goals. He wanted them to think they were trying to hide, not planning to return to the fort.

  Through it all, they pushed on, driven by the knowledge that each step brought them closer to their goal and to the medical supplies Sarah so desperately needed.

  As the day wore on and the shadows lengthened, Alex's thoughts turned increasingly to the base. What would they find when they got there? How heavily would it be guarded? And most importantly, would they be able to get in and out undetected, or would they have to fight their way through?

  The questions swirled in his mind as they drew closer to the base, approaching it from the direction opposite Hut. Alex smelled it before he saw it, the wrenching odor of rain-drenched ash and decaying bodies, confirmed when they made it close enough to see the fort from a safe distance. Alex motioned for the others to take cover, his mind racing as he surveyed the scene.

  Plumes of black smoke still rose from the ruined structures, the once-proud base reduced to a smoking ruin. The shuttle bay was a hole in the earth, the Armadillos battered and burned out husks that had taken out half the tarmac with them when they exploded. And there were two enemy dropships, squatting amidst the devastation like bloated carrion birds.

  The barracks lights were on, and he could see guards patrolling the base perimeter. Equally troublesome, the base’s force field had been hastily repaired, with replacement posts hammered into charred earth.

  “Those bastards,” Jackson hissed upon seeing the destruction. “We owe them payback. Bigtime.”

  “We do,” Alex agreed, glancing at Sarah where she sat on the ground, again leaning against Malik, but now her eyes were closed. She was still alive and probably still awake by sheer grit and determination. “But right now, we sit tight and observe.”

  They did, spending the next few hours crouched in the brush, watching the activity around the base. Drones constantly came and went, sent on sorties across the jungle, while tangoes occupied the remains of the base as if they belonged there. The perimeter guards watched the surrounding jungle, but Alex could tell they weren’t very alert. It wasn’t surprising. The base force field offered as much protection as they needed, which wasn’t much, considering they’d already conquered the planet.

  Still, their attitude was something he could maybe take advantage of.

  As night fell and activity around the fort dwindled, Alex turned to the others. "Alright, here's the plan. Stay here, stay hidden. I'm going to move in for a closer look. If I can find a way in, I’ll see if I can grab some medical supplies and glean any intel I can.”

  "Gunny, not to question you, but are you sure that's a good idea?" Zoe asked. "Going in alone?"

  "I don't like it either," Alex admitted. "But we can't risk all of us getting spotted. Besides, one man will attract less attention than two. If I get into trouble, I'll find a way to signal you. Otherwise, stay put until I get back."

  With that, he slipped away into the gathering darkness, moving with the silent grace of a phantom.

  CHAPTER 24

  As he approached the base, Alex's senses were on high alert, every nerve tingling with the knowledge that he was walking into the lion's den. The closer he got, the more signs of the fierce battle that had been fought here became apparent.

  Scorch marks and bullet holes pockmarked the walls, spent shell cases littered the ground. Here and there, he spotted dark stains that could only be blood, a stark reminder of the lives that had been lost in the enemy's sudden and brutal attack.

  He skirted the perimeter, sticking to the shadows and vegetation to avoid the patrolling guards. Step one was to get past the forcefield and inside the base without being seen. A simple goal, but hardly simple to accomplish.

  Crouching behind a large, flowering plant, he studied the guards' movements, confirming the pattern he had noticed earlier, as well as the guards’ generally lackadaisical attitude about their patrol. He glanced back toward where he had left the others, making up his mind.

  He had to attempt infiltration. Sarah’s life depended on it.

  He backed into the jungle, lifting his eyes toward the canopy, which had only been cut back a short distance from the invisible walls. Even though wildlife like the reptirs could potentially drop from the branches, the ground on the Marine side was way too exposed for their comfort, so they never did. The same went for Fort Brix itself. The further they cut back greenery, the more exposed the installation would become from space.

  Not that it had made a difference.

  Alex pushed cautiously through the brush close to the base, careful to remain out of sight and watchful of the guards sweeping back and forth behind the force field. He surveyed each tree, following the trunk up to the branches, tracing to the end of the long protrusions.

  Finally, he found what he was looking for.

  He began to climb, scurrying up a knotted alien tree like it was a staircase, reaching the lowest branches inside of twenty seconds. He looked down at the base from the position. He was high enough to clear the force field, but too far away. He glanced up, finding his target and continuing to climb, making sure to remain on the far side of the tree, away from the fort. He went up a short way and slipped around the trunk, spotting his branch.

  Taking a few breaths to steady his nerves, he shifted forward, balancing on the branch, which was easy at the base but would become increasingly difficult as he stepped closer to the narrow end, which he couldn’t be sure would even support his weight.

  One hand gripping the limb above him, he eased out onto the limb he was standing on. Moving hand over hand and keeping his feet directly in line, he moved quickly at first, then slowing when the limb he was on narrowed. Once he had gone far enough to feel it beginning to bend, he was also at the end of the limb he was holding onto. Looking down, he saw he had nearly crossed over the force field. The wall surrounding the live-fire range at the back of the tall soil and grass berm, situated there to stop stray bullets, was only a short distance from the invisible barrier.

  Alex took another deep breath, steeling himself for what was to come. The branch beneath his feet swayed gently in the breeze, a reminder of how precarious his position truly was. But there was no turning back now. There was too much at stake.

  With a final glance at the patrolling guards below, he tensed his muscles and leaped, launching himself off the branch towards the long length of what was only a two-foot wide perimeter wall. Time seemed to slow as he sailed through the air, his heart pounding in his ears.

  He hit the wall in a roll, his shoulder absorbing the painful impact as he tumbled across the hard surface. In one fluid motion, he came up to his feet, crouched low to avoid being seen.

  Ignoring the pain, he scanned his surroundings quickly confirming that his entrance had gone unnoticed. To his left a short drop would lead down to ground level, out of sight of the guards. He took it without hesitation, dropping silently to the earth below.

  The base was eerily quiet, the usual bustle of activity replaced by an oppressive stillness. Alex moved like a shadow, scanning the area as he sprinted from one darkened area to another. He counted personnel, separating armed forces from support personnel. He watched their movements, waiting for a pattern to emerge before darting to his next chosen position. It was slow going, but well worth the time it took to absorb all the information he could.

  After what felt like hours, he finally reached the training center unseen, its looming facade pockmarked with battle scars. Alex approached it cautiously, every sense on high alert. He opened the door to a narrow slit, ready to bolt if the enemy had stationed guards in the entrance. Thankfully, they hadn’t. He slipped inside, a short sprint taking him to the emergency stairs, where he used his thumbprint to gain access to the upper floors.

  He ran up all eleven flights to the rooftop, pausing at the door and listening intently for any sound coming from the other side of it. Nothing. No voices. No footsteps, or any other man-made sounds. Only the low hum of the comms equipment. He allowed himself a slight grin. As he’d suspected, the enemy had repaired the array for their own use.

  Maybe some of those training simulations had come in handy, after all.

  Moving to the access panel, Alex retrieved his DA from his pocket. He tapped on the interface, running special software designed for this specific purpose. Any comms traffic would be encrypted, but this close to the root of the transmission, he could intercept the outgoing signal before it was obfuscated, and the incoming signal after it had been cleaned.

  It took a few minutes for the software to work its magic. The interface changed when it finally connected, the device syncing with the array's systems. He slid his finger over his DA to cycle through the channels, pausing when he picked up voices, distorted but intelligible. Alex strained to listen, his heart quickening as he recognized the clipped, authoritative tone of a military commander.

  "... all Force Recon Marines are accounted for, save for Scorpion Squad," the voice was saying, a hint of frustration evident. "Strickland and his team are still out there somewhere."

  "Find them," another voice demanded, cold and harsh. "We're running out of time. War is coming."

  Alex's breath caught in his throat. War? What war? And why did they want Scorpion Squad so badly?

  “I understand,” the commander replied. "But as you know, Strickland is resourceful. It won't be easy."

  “The flotilla is heading out, but we'll return in three weeks to extract you. Your mission had best be complete when we return.”

  “It will be.”

  The pieces began to fall into place in Alex's mind. The attack on the base, the targeting of First Company...it was all part of some larger plan, some dark purpose he had yet to fully grasp.

  He was so focused on the conversation that he didn't hear the footsteps behind him. A hand landed on his shoulder.

  “What are you—” the man’s voice was cut off as Alex threw his elbow back into the man’s gut, knocking the air from his lungs. Spinning on his heels, Alex lunged at the intruder, putting him in a chokehold and dragging him to the edge of the roof.

  Wide-eyed, the man stared back at him, hands scrabbling at his viselike arms, feet sliding uselessly along the surface. A tech, Alex realized. The system had probably detected the intrusion as an anomaly, and this guy had come to check it out. Alex was tempted to let him go until an image of the corridor leading to the spaceport flashed through his mind. If these invaders wanted to wear Marine insignia, then he would treat them like Marines.

  And any Marine, no matter what their MOS, was dangerous.

  He maintained the chokehold until the man stopped fighting, his eyes filled with blood, and then stopped breathing. Letting go, Alex got to his feet, his chest heaving as the rush of combat faded. He stripped the corpse, donning the dead man’s gray coveralls before pulling the switchblade from his pocket and zipping up the coveralls. He went about the gruesome work he’d been trained to do, cutting out the tech’s right eye and amputating his right index finger. He wrapped both in a strip of material he cut from the man’s undershirt, shoving them into the pocket of the coveralls.

  The disguise was far from perfect, but it might buy him a few precious minutes if he encountered any more enemy personnel.

  He eyed his DA forlornly for a moment, wishing he could send a message to his superiors. His military. But the encryption had no doubt been changed from the source, meaning the only help he could hope to beg for would be from the people intent on killing him.

  Disconnecting his DA from the comms, he returned to the stairs, quickly descending.

  Not quite ready for exfil just yet, he descended to the third floor. He navigated the corridors with a newfound purpose, the stolen uniform granting him a measure of anonymity. A pair of techs passed him in the hall, barely sparing him a glance as they went about their business.

  The door to Weathers’ office was unlocked, the room beyond dark and still. Alex slipped inside, closing the door softly behind him. The coppery scent of blood hung heavy in the air, and as his eyes adjusted to the gloom, he spotted the dark stains on the wall behind his desk, remembering how the enemy had burst into the office and shot his LT.

  Forcing down the surge of grief and anger, Alex moved to the terminal, bringing the system online with a few quick keystrokes. A password prompt blinked on the screen, cursor flashing in mute challenge.

  Alex didn’t hesitate. He expected the terminal to be locked. He tried Weather’s birthday first, followed by his kids' birthdays. No luck. Next, the lieutenant's wedding anniversary, combined with the birthdays. Still nothing.

  One last attempt. Alex's fingers hovered over the keys, ready to input his final guess—the birthdays of Scorpion Squad—when a sound from the hallway froze him in place. Footsteps, heavy and purposeful, came to a stop just outside the door.

  And then the door opened.

  "What are you doing in here?" a gruff voice demanded.

  "Network anomaly," he answered calmly, letting a hint of annoyance color his words. "It originated from this terminal. Just checking it out."

  There was a pause, a moment of hesitation. Then, to Alex's relief, the man told him to carry on and closed the door. His footsteps receded, fading back down the corridor. He let out a slow breath, the tension draining from his body.

  Returning his attention to the terminal, he typed in the squad's birthdays, a desperate last attempt.

  The screen flashed red in final, mocking denial. He was locked out for twenty-four hours, his ability to activate the squad’s augments out of reach.

  Frustration welled inside him, but he pushed it down, forcing himself to focus on what to do now. He'd gained valuable intel, even if he didn't fully understand it yet. He still needed to get medical supplies for Sarah and get back to his team.

  Slipping out of Weathers’s office, he made his way to the field hospital, the gray coveralls allowing him to blend in with the few scattered personnel still moving about the base. He paused at the doorway as a nurse stepped out of the building and walked right past him, no hint of alarm in her expression. Reaching for the switchblade, he flipped it open and sliced his finger. Blood welled and ran down his wrist before dripping to the floor.

  He pushed into the hospital. When the nurse at the front desk looked up, he held up his bleeding finger. “Caught myself on a sharp edge,” he said. “I think it needs stitches.”

  “I see that,” the nurse replied. “I just need you to fill out⁠—”

  “Can’t I deal with the admin once I’m not bleeding all over the place?”

  She nodded, tapping on her terminal. The same one that had been used by his fellow Marines less than twenty-four hours ago. The idea of it infuriated him.

  “Exam room three,” she said. “It’s⁠—”

  “I know where it is,” Alex snapped, already on his way to the door behind the entrance. Passing through instead of redirecting to the exam room, he continued ahead, passing another nurse before picking up his pace and slipping into a storage room.

  Knowing that every second counted, he worked quickly, with an efficiency born of desperation to gather as much as he could—antibiotics, painkillers, bandages, and a sturdy pack to carry it all in. Rather than heading straight out, he sealed the pack and entered exam room three. The doctor was already waiting there for him.

  “Sorry,” he said. “Had to hit the head.”

  “Didn’t need to know that,” the doctor replied. “Did you know your finger is bleeding?”

  Alex’s laugh was almost sincere. “Are you sure?” he replied, turning it over. “Hmm, yeah. Looks that way. Can you fix it?”

  “I think we have the technology.” She turned and opened one of the cabinets, retrieving a bandage.

  “It must be pretty busy for you right now,” he said, digging for information. “Following the fighting, I mean.”

  She shrugged. “Not really. Most of the injured weren’t ours.”

  Alex gritted his teeth, fighting not to respond angrily. Or worse. “We aren’t treating the POWs?”

  “I’m not,” she said, turning around. “Hold out your finger.”

  He did as she told him. “I’m honestly surprised we took out an entire company of Force Recon so easily,” he said while she stuck the bandage to one side of the cut and then squeezed the wound closed before attaching the bandage to the other side. Alex knew the antibiotic bandage would heal the wound entirely in a day or two.

  “Look…Private,” she said, eying his rank insignia. “If you’re trying to flirt with me, I’m not interested.”

  Alex bit back his desired retort. “Just being friendly, that’s all.” He stood up, showing her the bandaged digit. “Looks like I’m all good here. Thanks, Doc.” He grabbed the pack and headed for the exit before anything else could go wrong.

  Retracing his steps, Alex made his way back to the live-fire range, this time entering the building proper. He climbed swiftly to the roof, more nervous about being caught now that he was nearly out. He paused at the roof's edge, gauging the distance to the ground beyond the force field.