Reclaim: Books 1-3 Read online

  "But what?"

  "I'll help you. I don't know about Moreno, but I'll assist you to find this X person. Just don't say anything to Miller. We'll all agree on the story up until you took off. After that, you came back with us. Nothing else. The general will send us back out, and we can find this guy."

  Moreno hopped down from the mounted gun and stepped up to Teve. "I'm in, Sarge. We'll find him."

  "Thanks, guys. I understand I can't ask for much after Vargas, but I really need your help on this. I'm convinced this man could change the very war itself for the better."

  Mish and Moreno continued to give Teve their support as they all headed to Miller and reported in. After a lengthy debriefing and many loud words from the general, the three settled in for some downtime.

  Teve rested on his rack as the base buzzed with activity. The day wore on and came to a close while he thought about all the possibilities the next trip up top could bring.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Porter reported to the brig after training with the help of two armed corporals. The door to his cell hissed shut, sealing him in for the next twelve hours. Each room in the brig was a six-by-eight sterile box with a sink, toilet, and bed. It wasn't much smaller than the room he shared with Briggs, but the main difference came in the lack of personal belongings and the freedom to come and go as you pleased.

  With no other options, Porter settled into the fold-down bed on the wall, falling asleep a few minutes later. He woke up after two hours, not remembering any dreams. The cell had the ability to sap the creativity from his mind.

  Morning came after a half dozen more short periods of sleep. The guards nudged him out the door at 7.00 a.m. ship time for training. Briggs caught up with Porter on the way over to the drill deck.

  "What happened? I thought you were going to be commanding the fleet. Now you're in chains?"

  "Back it up, Lieutenant," one of the corporals said.

  "The hell did you just tell me?" Briggs asked. "I don't take orders from NCOs, Corporal."

  "You got a problem with it; take it up with Commodore Garcia."

  "Commodore?"

  The two corporals brushed past and left a stunned Briggs in the hallway.

  Porter glanced over his shoulder. "I'll be on the training deck. Come find me; I'll fill you in on the latest."

  "Keep moving, Porter," the second corporal said as he jabbed his prisoner in the ribs with his weapon.

  Porter turned to face him with a scowl. "That one is free. Next one's going to cost you."

  The guard gave him a sneer from the side of his mouth and poked the butt of his rifle into Porter's back. "Keep moving, sir."

  The trio arrived on the training deck a few minutes later. The guards unlocked Porter's cuffs and shoved him along.

  Porter massaged his wrists and stepped away from his two keepers, giving them each one last stare before walking toward his cadets. The corporals left the room but continued to stand guard outside the entry to the training area.

  "Now that my friends are gone, we can resume training," Porter said. He paced up and down the line of cadets. One handed him a tablet with the group's first attempt at the exam ready for marking.

  The ten questions were pulled from a random pool of over 100. He scanned through the twelve tests and found every person had a perfect score.

  The line of eager pilots stood firm as they waited for their commanding officer to tell them if they would be flying Stalkers or learning the same chunk of information about the machines for the second time.

  "So," Porter started. "It would appear you were all paying very close attention yesterday. Either I managed to get through to you all or the thought of spending another day inside was going to kill you guys."

  "Sir, are you saying?"

  "Yes, Smith. Today we fly."

  A murmur erupted across the line. "Keep it down," Porter said. "Now, suit up and head down to Launch Bay C. Slingshot in ten. Don't be late."

  The cadets hustled out of the training area and bolted as one toward their fighters. Porter started to walk toward the control room attached to the launch bay when Briggs cut him off.

  "Got a second to tell me what the hell is going on?"

  "How did you sneak past the two jerks?"

  "Simple. I got a couple of my cadets to cause a distraction for the two overworked corporals."

  A chuckle escaped Porter's lips. He was surprised such a cheap trick could work considering the corporals' training. "Nice one."

  "So, how long you got?"

  "Well, the two morons will be expecting me to head over to Launch Bay C any minute now, so I'll get to the point. As you know, Garcia approached me for the position of second-in-command for the assault against the Zeal. I accepted and was happy to do the job until I found out about a problem associated with the task."

  "Problem? What problem?"

  "Can't say. She'll have me hung by my balls if I spill a word to anyone."

  "Fair enough," Briggs said. "So, are you flying the mission instead?"

  "Here's the thing: she grounded me and has confined me to the brig outside of training hours. I won't be able to contribute to the assault in any way now."

  Briggs shook his head. "Insane, right? Why ground one of the few pilots on the ship actually capable of killing the Zeal?"

  "Because I denied her."

  "So what?"

  "I thought the same thing, which got me thinking if she's willing to ground one of her elite pilots over a bit of pride, then she either believes we are going to win, or we are doomed to fail either way."

  Briggs let out a whistle as he turned away. "But wait?" he asked. "Why did she want you in the first place if we are destined to win or lose?"

  "Good point. I thought about that last night, too. I had a lot of time to think, but basically, I believe she's got a plan for either outcome. She just wanted someone loyal by her side when it all went down."

  Briggs paced around the room and grabbed his head. "No way am I letting you sit this one out in the brig."

  "Damn straight," Porter said. "But how am I supposed to escape my cell when Ben and Jerry out there follow my every move?"

  Briggs crossed his arms and leaned on a nearby wall. "Leave them to me. I'm getting a new wingman, aren't I? Well, perhaps I've had one transferred over to the ship."

  Porter worked out what he meant and tried his best to conceal a smile. He walked over to him and slapped him on the bicep. "I like it. Keep me in the loop."

  "I'll send some cadets over with any updates I can. You better move out before those two idiots work out my girls aren't interested in their bullshit."

  "I'll see you, Briggs," Porter said with a slight grin. "Thanks for the chat." He walked out of the room and found the two corporals being chatted up by a few of Briggs' cadets. The two young ladies were working the NCOs to perfection, teasing their hair while pushing out their chests. The whole production gave Briggs enough time to slip out unnoticed.

  Porter cleared his throat multiple times to grab the corporals' attention, concealing a chuckle as he stood in the long branching hallway. One of the blushing men did a double take when he saw his prisoner standing out in the open, cuff free. He tapped his partner on the arm without looking and moved over to Porter.

  "If you're not too busy, Corporals, I'd like to be escorted over to Launch Bay C and send my cadets into the air."

  "Sorry, sir. We'll be underway in a moment. I just need to cuff you."

  Porter raised his arms together in preparation for the corporal's handcuffs. The metal clasps clicked into place and dropped down over his wrists. He interlaced his fingers without a second thought and started to walk down the hallway toward his cadets. The two corporals weren't as aggressive during their escort as they had been a short time ago, possibly fearing the reprisal of an officer catching them fraternizing with a superior.

  After another guided stroll, Porter arrived in the control room and had his cuffs removed. He found all twelve cadets read
y for launch on one of the displays.

  "Board is green, sir," the tech said.

  Porter nodded and picked up a wireless comm, shoving it in his ear a moment later. "Listen up, Cadets. I want to see clean lines out there. Watch your vectors and protect your wingman. I'm giving you all a second chance to get this right. Screw it up, and you'll be sent back to Mars to scrub toilets at HQ for the duration of the war."

  The wannabe pilots all sounded off. A few minutes later, the squadron launched into space as one and started their six-hour training session. There would be no food breaks, toilet breaks, or any kind of stopping. When one of the cadets complained they needed to take a piss, Porter told them to either hold it or go in their suit.

  After six hours of running drills, formations, and fake attack runs on the Andromeda, the cadets were starting to shape up into half decent pilots. Porter recalled the group fifteen minutes later and observed the twelve making bumpy landings. For every scratch a cadet made into the deck, he berated them over the comm, issuing extra time of latrine duty.

  Once the last pilot climbed out of his Stalker, removed his helmet, and fell into line, Porter stepped in and moved up and down the row of sweaty, urine-soaked graduates.

  "Well, I'll be damned. Maybe you aren't a bunch of useless washouts after all. Now hit the showers and report in for latrine duty. I want every head on this ship to sparkle. Dismissed."

  The cadets all let out a sigh of relief with the knowledge they'd be getting to clean themselves up. Porter watched the last pilot leave as he opened the debriefing portal on his tablet. He entered his observations for Garcia to pore over, not leaving out any detail. There was no reason his cadets had to suffer because he was.

  "So the rumors are true," Cannon said as she walked into the control room.

  Porter spun around with his mouth open. He couldn't think of what to say at first and finally settled on something simple. "I didn't know you listened to gossip."

  "Not usually, but this one was too good to ignore. So, what happened? First, I hear you were getting a promotion to command the fleet, next I find out you're being escorted everywhere by a pair of corporals."

  "What can I say? I guess word got out that I screwed things up between myself and Garcia."

  "You got off easy by the sounds of it. I heard she wanted to shove you out an airlock." She grinned away for a few seconds. "I'm kidding."

  Porter chuckled as he attempted to forget the threat Garcia made. "Look, Cannon. I'm—"

  "Don't say it. I'm not here for an apology or anything like that; I'm here to let you know Garcia has approached me about the job."

  A moment of silence passed between them. Only the sound of the Stalkers' cooling engines and shouting mechanics filled the background.

  "I'm taking the position. I didn't want you to hear that secondhand and think the worst of me."

  "Did Garcia tell you why she put me in cuffs?"

  "No, but I kind of worked it out."

  Porter moved a few steps toward her and placed his tablet on one of the empty mechanics' tables. He spoke in a hushed tone. "So you're happy directing our forces knowing we aren't going into this thing full strength?"

  Cannon scoffed and crossed her arms, shifting her weight. "We're always going into things half-cocked. Why would the assault be any different?"

  "Come on. We have a chance to punch a hole in the Zeal fleet and take a shot at reclaiming Earth's orbit."

  "I'm not here to argue." Cannon turned to leave, giving him a stern face in the process.

  "Where are you going? Off to Garcia?"

  She spun on the spot and dropped her arms down, clenching her fists. "You know what your problem is, Porter. You think you're always doing what's right for everyone else, but the truth is you're just as selfish as the rest of us. And it's no different when you declare your love for me knowing full well how I'm going to react."

  "So I'm an asshole because I care? Makes perfect sense," he said, drilling home the sarcasm.

  "You think you care, and you think you love me, but the truth is you only care how everyone else views you."

  "That's bullshit. I do care about you, dammit. You're just too damn stubborn to accept someone might want something more from you."

  Cannon shook her head as Porter's breath grew heavier. "You broke the rules. Simple as that. And Garcia is just doing her job. Maybe next time you should do yours."

  Porter felt himself shaking as he brushed past Cannon. He moved out of the control room and held up his arms to the guards. "Take me back to the brig," he said. "It's where an asshole like me belongs."

  The two corporals complied, cuffing him in an instant. As they shoved him along toward his cell, Porter saw Cannon staring at him from a distance. He stared back at her before the two men dragged him down into the depths of the ship.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  General Miller didn't go easy on Teve. The loss of another soldier only pushed the man to further outbursts, prompting more orders about the importance of retrieving Adams from the Zeal. Despite losing Vargas after a short time, Miller kept the fire team on the task, possibly not wanting to involve anyone else.

  Teve woke up the next morning with only a few hours of sleep. He regretted not taking a fistful of diazepam. If Mish hadn't of been on his case about the pills, he would have taken the whole bottle in the space of a few days.

  After breakfast, he prepared his undersized fire team for the next attempt at his own version of Miller's mission with a focus on finding X. Before he managed to formulate a solid plan in his mind, a new soldier slipped into the team's ranks—this time a specialist with enough field experience to handle the Zeal.

  "Specialist Harris reporting for duty."

  Teve faced the replacement fighter and couldn't help but see the look on Vargas' face from the previous day.

  "Load up, Harris and follow Private Moreno to the Humvee. We've got a big day ahead of us."

  "Yes, Sarge. May I ask what our mission will be?"

  Teve stopped midway through reloading his rifle. "General Miller didn't fill you in?"

  "No, Sarge. I was told to report in. Nothing else."

  A groan escaped Teve's lips. "Great. Just get in the Humvee, and I'll explain on the way."

  The specialist nodded and yelled out his acknowledgment before gearing up.

  Teve took off toward the truck and finished reloading his rifle. The thought of having to describe everything to an unknown soldier sent a shudder down his spine. He didn't know if he could trust the man let alone allow him to learn about the sickening discovery. Teve shook off images of X and the atrocities the Zeal had performed on him as Mish bumped his shoulder.

  "Who's the new guy?" she asked pointing toward Harris.

  "Replacement. A specialist."

  "No kidding," she said. "Guess they finally learned their lesson about giving us another private."

  "Maybe. Although, he doesn't know anything about Adams. I'm gonna have to drop it all on him in one hit."

  Mish shrugged. "At least he knows how to kill Zeal. You don't become a specialist around here without surviving a few encounters."

  "Good point," Teve said with a nod. "Here's hoping he survives the day."

  After a few pre-mission checks, he gave Mish the all clear to fire up the Humvee and head to the surface. Harris was placed in the front passenger seat while Moreno sat on the heavy, encased gun. Teve took his place behind Mish and instructed Harris on how things worked in his fire team.

  "Watch your sector. If you spot any Zeal, shout out. Do not fire upon the enemy unless you see me doing so. Apart from that, follow my orders and you'll be fine."

  "Yes, Sergeant," Harris said, keeping his eyes wide open.

  Mish pushed the Humvee up and out of the tunnel into the day and headed for the city. She swerved her way around the debris piles and rolled down the cascading hills toward the outskirts of Glendale and Los Angeles.

  "Let's take a different approach today," Teve said over the
sound of the wheels rotating against the remains of the road. The Zeal base towered out of the center of the city as a new section rose from the edge.

  "Where to?"

  Teve pulled out his e-slate and punched in two separate coordinates. One location was the same spot he last saw X; the other was a position a half klick farther away up a hill. He beamed the locations over to Mish and said, "Marker one will be our eventual approach, but we'll scout it out from above at marker two."

  Mish glanced at her screen, taking it in between glances at the road ahead. "Marker two is pretty exposed. You sure about this?"

  "The exposure is exactly what we need. Head to the marker and keep the engine running." Teve pulled his rifle from the window and scooted over to the middle of the back seat. "Moreno. Come down."

  The private locked the turret and climbed down as requested. "What do you need, Sarge?"

  "Cover Mish's sector. I'm up on the gun for the next few minutes. Be ready to switch when I say."

  Moreno leaned down and brought his rifle round. The two soldiers changed places as a bump in the road hit the Humvee. Teve scaled up the step into the protected turret and unlocked the twin barreled fifty-caliber gun. He swept the sights left and right, checking his range on the digital scope the mounted weapon contained.

  Their ride scraped the bottom of the mountain and leveled out before Mish drove the Humvee back up another hill to the marker as ordered. When the truck began to slow up on the location, Teve scanned the city for any Zeal patrols. He found a pack of Stiltz patrolling near X's last position. "Perfect."

  Without warning, Teve opened fire on the patrol. The mounted gun spun up and blasted out dual streaks of hot metal. Sparks exploded out of the first Stilt'z body, shredding it to pieces. Harris jumped up on his window sill and leaned over the truck upon seeing Teve's move.

  "Sarge? What are you doing?" Moreno asked.

  "Fire your weapon, Private," he shouted over the comm.

  Mish brought the Humvee to a stop and pulled her rifle through to add her bullets to the attack. The remaining three Stiltz fired back but dropped dead a few seconds later. The surprise assault wiped the patrol out.