Mr. Tim was as Lana remembered him. He looked like he was on vacation rather than facing the end of the world. She’d been trying to reconcile his connection to the PMF since discovering the link between him and Brady earlier that day. Everything—the net call that brought her to the Peak, the encrypted messages she’d read, Brady’s protection—had fallen into place. Brady hadn’t just been lying to her about being the Guardian. She’d been trying to avoid the crushing sense of betrayal building in her breast.
“I imagine I owe you an explanation,” Mr. Tim said.
“Yes, sir,” she said.
“I am third generation PMF, like Brady. Our families have fought side by side for over fifty years. Our purpose isn’t what’s in the government modified documentation; we fight to unify the country and return the rights stolen by the government to the people.”
“You used me.” She couldn’t help the words.
“You were one of the PMF’s best sources. I got you access to as much as I could, and I let you do what you do best. Everything you did for me I sent to the PMF,” Mr. Tim said. “When an attack was imminent, I called Brady and made him swear to take care of you. Then I called you and brought you to the Peak.”
Lana listened. Similar to Brady, there was no remorse in his admittance, and her throat tightened.
“Brady is one of the best and brightest soldiers the PMF has, as well as a personal friend. You’ve been like a daughter to me, Lana, and I placed you in the best hands I could.” His words were gentle.
“I don’t think fathers use their daughters as you did,” she whispered.
“You know better. You were exposed to the upper-class circles long enough to know that even betraying you I’ve been kinder than most. The government is splintering, Lana,” he continued. “Another civil war has started, but we can fix it before things get even worse. I need you to tell me what you found out.”
She shook her head and clenched her hands together, torn between fury and sorrow.
“Lana, you know enough about the PMF to know they’re the only force—perhaps in the world—with the ability to survive the government tearing itself apart. We’ve all but taken over the military and have people in all levels of government. We’re the only ones who can influence the outcome of this.”
What he said made sense—it always did, even when he was lying to people. She knew when he lied; she’d spent twenty years with him. He wasn’t lying.
Right now, she didn’t want the politics. She wanted to know why he’d hurt her. Her throat was too tight for her to ask.
“Lana, I need you to tell me what you know.”
“I need a minute,” she managed.
There was a pause. “Very well. I’ll call back in a few.”
She waited until the viewer flashed off before slumping. She pressed the meat of her palms to her eyes. If someone told her a few months before she’d be here, now, hearing this, she’d have thought them insane!
Yet the worst part was that she knew he was right. The PMF was the only party standing while the government tore itself apart. If anyone had the resources to make things right, the PMF could.
“You want me to leave?” Brady asked.
“You betrayed me, too,” she said without looking at him. She wanted to hate him but couldn’t. The Guardian had been her closest friend. Even knowing who he really was, she wanted her friend back. “You’ve been there for me since this all started. Why couldn’t you tell me?”
“I care more that you’re alive than what you think of me,” he said firmly. “It was safer for you if you didn’t know who I was. It was safer for Tim.”
“I’ve known you were my Guardian for a few days. I didn’t know about all this.” She waved at the screen.
“You knew about me before you slept with me?” he asked.
“Of course. You think I’d sleep with someone I didn’t care about?”
Brady squatted in front of her.
“My heart broke when I thought you’d died!” she said with more emotion than she intended. “And all you’ve done is lie to me. Is any part of you capable of caring for me, or was everything about the Guardian a lie?”
“I am who I am,” Brady said. “You fell for the Guardian. You fell for me. And yes, I do care for you, more than I want to.”
“It didn’t stop you from betraying me. What was your plan?” Tears of anger and hurt spilled down her cheeks. “To let me think the Guardian was dead forever?”
He was quiet for a moment, before saying, “Your Guardian is here with you now.”
“I don’t know what to think. I don’t know him. I don’t know you. I can’t trust anyone.”
“You’re angry,” he countered. “You know you can trust me.”
The viewer beeped, and she wiped her face again.
“I’m ready,” she said, refusing to meet his gaze. “Let’s get this over with.”
“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry I hurt you,” Brady said quietly.
Lana blinked back more tears. When she said nothing in response, Brady opened the channel.
Mr. Tim appeared, gaze moving from her to Brady. She saw the considering look he gave Brady before he looked again to her. She straightened in her seat, not sure if she was about to do the right thing or not. With a deep breath, she started speaking.
“I found encrypted correspondence from Greene and your orders to Brady to find me, before the nuke attacks. Greene was in contact with different people in the West Coast Center. Arnie found out about Greene and sent out a few messages to the Peace Command Center to warn people. Greene gassed everyone in the mountain and intended to take over the Peak and use it as a base of operations for his people to use as they took over the eastern half of the US.” She looked down at her hands again.
“What are you trying to take west?” Brady prodded at her silence.
“Are you familiar with the Horsemen?” she asked
Mr. Tim paled. “No one should know about that program.”
“You got me access to everything,” she reminded him with some bitterness. “Greene was pulling in the Horsemen. I don’t know how he did it; he’d have to have people at each of the sites worldwide.”
“What are the Horsemen?” Brady asked.
She gazed at Mr. Tim, waiting for him to explain. He shifted in his seat and rubbed his mouth, a rare sign of his nervousness.
“The Horsemen was the tongue in cheek name given to the government program that placed a series of devices across the world, both in enemy and friendly countries. You could say they were used for leverage if the country trounced too far on our generosity or refused to take into account our national interest when they acted up. The joke in fed circles was that the government could activate the Horsemen at will and bring about the destruction of the planet itself.”
“We were holding the world hostage?” Brady asked.
“We call it diplomacy,” Mr. Tim explained. “The capability was emplaced but never utilized.”
“Until Greene’s allies took out the East Coast,” Lana added. “After the War, the government created seven protected sites around the world with only one person at the site knowing what was there and security measures that were beyond anything the Peak had.”
“Does he have the others?” Mr. Tim prodded.
“He did. I thought something was wrong when Brady’s men stumbled across one of the devices and returned it to the mountain. The device you found was coded as biowarfare, but when I ran it in the system, I found the serials had been switched. One of the Horsemen devices was recoded. It can only be done at the presidential level and was done by one of his staff members.”
Brady’s gaze was riveted to her.
“Arnie Smith had another one,” she continued. “I don’t know what happened with him, if he was really crazy or he found something. I looked at the rest of the keypads in the command center. Only three of us had access to them. Greene, Arnie, and me, as the VP’s representative on the surface. There were infrast
ructure keypads and a few of the nuke, bio, electromagnetic, and chem keypads for the East Coast weapons systems. When I ran the serials, I found several of them had been recoded,” she continued.
“How many Horsemen does Greene have?” Mr. Tim demanded.
“He’d gathered all twenty at the Peak.”
Mr. Tim uttered a choked curse.
“It’s okay, sir,” Lana said quickly. “I took them all.”
Silence followed her words. Mr. Tim was staring at her in surprise, Brady in intense interest.
“You have the Horsemen?” Mr. Tim repeated.
She nodded.
“That information does not leave this room,” Mr. Tim said resolutely. “Talk about insanity breaking out if anyone knew …”
“I was going to take them to the Peace Command Center,” she said. “I hoped … I don’t know what I hoped. That maybe everything would be all right and someone could disable them.”
“No one will disable them, even if they could,” he said. “Hon, the difference between you and the rest of us is that you see the keypads as a threat. Anyone else with have a grain of ambition would see them as a tool. They’d kill half the planet to obtain the apocalyptic collection you have.”
“I know that now,” Lana said in a hushed tone.
“Brady, I don’t need to tell you how important it is that her vault doesn’t fall into anyone’s hands,” Mr. Tim said. “Take her and the Horsemen to Colorado. I’ll reassign the Appalachia militia temporarily under someone else. Lana, I need all the info you have on Greene and who he was talking to.”
“Roger,” Brady acknowledged.
“Yes, sir,” she said quietly. Though troubled, she felt somewhat relieved at not having to keep the secrets alone anymore.
“Can you still monitor the eastern infrastructure?” Mr. Tim asked.
“Yes. I rerouted the ops to my micro.”
“Don’t mess with anything for a while. You’re safer if Greene thinks you’re dead.”
She nodded.
“I’ll go to those I trust and warn them. With Lana, you’ll have access to all the emerops depots the feds have east of the Mississippi.”
Lana listened, chilled at the coldness and precision of his directions. She knew without a doubt Brady would follow Mr. Tim’s orders.
“Check in again in two days,” Mr. Tim directed. He appeared pensive before speaking again. “Lana, I need to tell you something else.”
I can’t handle anything else, she wanted to shout at him.
“I didn’t train and educate you because your grandfather or someone called me. You’re my daughter by blood. I took you in when your mother died. I intended to make you the companion of some powerful politician at some point, but you showed an incredible aptitude for learning when you were quite young,” he explained. “I decided to use that and keep you close. I told no one the truth, because I feared what that would mean. No one wants my boys. I see them once a year at most, but you had access to me and the government’s secrets that would’ve put you in danger had anyone found out.”
She listened. She’d always known she was closer to him than even his companions. That he’d hidden their relationship from her made her angrier at him.
“Someday, maybe I’ll forgive you for all of this,” she managed, hearing the hurt in her voice. “But not today.”
“I understand. Brady, take care of my girl.”
“Done,” Brady said.
Mr. Tim gave her a small smile before the viewer flashed off. Brady motioned her to follow him. She obeyed. He disappeared into a small room off the entrance and returned, PMF grays in his hand.
“These cancel out your thermal signature,” he said, holding them out.
She looked at the grays, the clothing she’d seen for years on the people she thought were the country’s enemies, then back at Brady. He was too hard to offer the type of empathy she wanted, but he was the man who’d been with her since the beginning of the end.
“You’ll have to trust me,” he said. “I’m the only person who can get you and the Horsemen to safety.
“I trusted the Guardian,” she replied, taking the clothes from him.
“I haven’t changed. The circumstances have.”
Lana drew a deep breath. Elise had said to survive, and Lana had no doubt Brady was the only one who could help her. He had the support of his rebel army and now, the feds. They would need it, if Greenie found her. He’d throw everything he had after her.
And Brady would always protect her. She knew it, and it made her angrier at him for betraying her. Even his kisses, his hot touch, felt like lies. She’d truly cared for someone for the first time in her life, and he’d used her.
She ducked into the small room and changed clothes. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, there was no way of knowing who the bad guys were, not with Mr. Tim’s information about the shadow government.
“I’m ready,” she said and returned to the hall.
Brady looked her over and drew a laser gun.
Lana crossed her arms, feeling very alone. The discovery of her true father did nothing to comfort her, not when she realized how much Mr. Tim had betrayed her. Brady motioned her towards the door and hung back, pressing his thumb to a keypad on the wall. She watched him enter a code and a countdown begin, and guessed he was destroying the comms center.
Stepping onto the ledge outside, Lana heard the sounds of gun and laser fire too close for her comfort, along with the beat of helicopters in the dark skies. Brady joined her and pulled the door closed behind them. He reached into his pocket and withdrew the micro and Horsemen, holding them out to her. Lana hesitated and then took them.
“You keep those safe, and I’ll keep you safe,” Brady said. “Deal?”
She nodded, understanding it was his way of showing he trusted her, even if she was too furious to trust him. She hurt too much right now. Lana unlocked her micro and forwarded everything to Mr. Tim that he requested.
Brady started down the trail towards the darkness of the forest. Instead of retreating into the forest—the way they’d come—he walked behind a boulder and started up a set of long, shallow steps leading up the mountain. Lana looked over her shoulder at an explosion that seemed far too close. Brady didn’t so much as flinch, and she hurried after him.
The stairs ascended to a plateau, and Brady strode into the center. He lifted his micro, which pulsed red for a fraction of a moment. He stepped back beside her, and she soon heard one of the helicopters grow nearer.
Lana hunkered against the mountain as the helicopter drew nearer. The plateau was too small for it to land, but it hovered near the edge. A set of stairs unfolded from the helicopter to the plateau, and Brady rushed her forward. Lana took one look at the thin metal stairs and looked away quickly. They looked barely able to hold her, let alone Brady! Hands over her ears, she took a deep breath and hurried up them, all but flinging herself into the arms of an awaiting rebel soldier.
The helicopter lifted away before Brady had two feet in its belly, and the soldier holding her strapped her securely into a seat in the rear while the two of them stood with nonchalance in the center.
The helicopter dropped suddenly, and she thought she’d vomit. Breathing deeply, she closed her eyes as the pilot maneuvered the aircraft sideways, up and down. All the while, the two soldiers before her remained standing or leaning, accustomed to the rocky flight.
She leaned into her harness, staring as the helicopter rolled. Lights from lasers and muzzle fire spotted the forest below them before they reached an urban area, mostly dark with several patches of electricity. The forest swallowed the city before she could orient herself.
The flight steadied out, and they flew for an hour over the Appalachian landscape. They flew over the Peak, and she straightened to see the devastation in the moonlight.
The Peak was flattened. Her breath caught. As sorry as she felt for all those who died, she felt relieved knowing she had the Horsemen and not Greenie
or anyone who might inflict this level of damage to the country.
They flew south, and she strained against the harness to see if her own condo was still standing. The urban areas were dark and the river nearby even darker. She saw smoke moving across the sky a moment before the helicopter rolled and began its sickening maneuvers again.
Right, left, up, down … and then she heard the explosion. Heat ripped through the cabin of the helicopter, bringing with it the scent of scorched metal. Her stomach fell as they dropped.
“Brady!” she shouted.
Pitched to the other end of the cabin, the two soldiers had strapped themselves in. The helicopter rolled as it fell, like a carnival ride without the option to get off. Lana held her breath at the whirling world, certain their death would at least be fast. The rotators caught, pulling them out of the spin, slowed their ascent, then gave out once again. Something else caught, and their ascent stopped suddenly, slamming her against the harness and knocking the breath from her.
The beating of the rotators died, replaced by creaking and scraping of metal. The cabin swayed, and Lana caught the image of wires and far below, water. Emergency lighting glowed red, turning the world inside the broken helo surreal.
The bridge. They were close to her condo; she drove the massive Sky Bridge every day to get to work. They were stuck in its wires. She looked around for Brady, afraid he’d be hurt or dead.
“Lana.” Brady’s voice was quiet and even. He was suspended in the air by the straps of his harness. “Under the seat is a box with vests and water-breathers. Reach under the bench and grab it.”
His calm words terrified her. They were going into the black water, hundreds of feet beneath them.
“Lana,” he said more gently, when she didn’t move. “Reach under the bench.”
She forced herself out of her fear and leaned forward. The helicopter dropped and caught. The other soldier cursed.
“Very slowly,” Brady hissed through clenched teeth.
She obeyed, inching towards the bench until she lay on her side, suspended by the harness above the seat by a few inches. Her fingers worked across the hard metal seat and under. There was a box strapped to the floor beneath the bench. Her fingers grazed the cold metal, and she stretched towards it. The helo creaked but didn’t move.
“I can’t reach it,” she said. “Wait, maybe I can.” She fumbled with the straps on her harness and pushed the releases.
“No!” Brady snapped. “Stay strapped in.”
“I can get it,” she said, ignoring him and adding silently, I won’t let you die. She rolled slowly until she was on the floor, wedged between the bench and the punctured floor of the helo.
Lana eased the straps off the box and pulled. It didn’t give. She released a breath, closed her eyes and then yanked. The heavy metal box grated towards her. She stood carefully and tugged it out from under the seat. With trembling hands, she deactivated the latches with a touch, and the top of the box slid open.
“Secure yours then toss us one of each,” Brady directed. She glanced at him. He looked as calm as he sounded, and she wondered how he could face his own possible death with such confidence and poise.
She was ready to break down crying and throw herself out of the helo in the hopes she didn’t die when she hit the water. Brady’s tranquility steadied her, and she searched through the box. Instead of listening to him, she dug out the water-breathers and life vests, each packaged in small plastic containers the size of her hand. She straightened and tossed them down the cabin to the soldiers.
“She makes a bad grunt,” the soldier beside Brady said. “Doesn’t follow orders.”
“Civilian-types,” Brady grunted in agreement as he tore open the plastic containers.
Lana opened a water-breather mask and perched it on her forehead like sunglasses before placing the inflatable vest beneath her arms. Once it hit water, it would inflate, and the water-breather would activate. She looked again at what awaited them and then up at Brady.
“You don’t really think we’ll survive the fall, do you?” she asked in a hushed voice.
“If we do, we’ll need the equipment,” he replied. “Harness up. I may jar us loose.”
She lowered herself back to the seat and pulled on her harness, strapping it on. Brady unstrapped himself, and she watched uneasily as he inched closer to the center of the cabin, his hands—and concentration—on the ceiling.
“Should be there,” the other soldier said.
“Looks like the handle is damaged,” Brady replied.
The helo creaked and slid again in the wiring. The unmistakable snap of wires reached them, and the helicopter tilted.
Brady muttered a curse, reached for his laser weapon, and fired at an angle at the ceiling. Lana closed her eyes at the sudden light and heard him tearing something out of the ceiling. The helo teetered, throwing Brady off his feet. He held onto the railing lining the ceiling with one hand and beat at whatever was in the hole in the ceiling with his other hand.
“Brady, please sit down!” Lana said, alarmed. Warmth splattered her face as he continued to slam his fist into the hole. She touched it, surprised it was his blood. “Brady, we’re going to fall. Just sit down!”
He said nothing. The helo lurched.
“Brady!” she cried as he slammed into the wall of the cabin.
They fell. This carnival ride was worse. Lana slapped at the water-breather until it covered her mouth and nose then squeezed her eyes closed. After a sharp drop, their tumble slowed suddenly. The helicopter righted itself fast, and she saw the parachute Brady had been trying to release by smashing his fist against the control box in the ceiling.
Her heart leapt as Brady was flung out of the helicopter. She screamed.