“Alex?”

At first, she thought she was blind. Her eyes were open and she heard machinery near her head but there was only darkness. Instinctively, her hands went to her face. She pulled away a set of oval bandages covering her eyes. The darkness resolved into blurry shapes and colors.

“Alex?”

“She’s coming around.”

The first voice belonged to General Lunde, the second to Samantha Reilly.

“I’ll get some eye drops to clear the gunk out of your eyes,” Doctor Reilly said.

A familiar silhouette leaned in over the bed.

“G-Gene?” Alex’s voice was weak and uneven, barely audible over the steady beeping of what sounded like an EKG.

“It’s me.” Lunde kept his head bowed above her, and as she tried to focus on his face, he leaned down against the bedrail and began to cry.

“Gene? General, what’s wrong?” She reached for his face and felt his warm, moist skin.

“Alex,” Lunde said, still crying. “I thought you were gone.”

“Where am I?”

Reilly’s hand appeared above her with a pipette. She squeezed several drops into Alex’s eyes. Alex immediately felt a mild burning sensation. As she began to rub at her face, her eyes watered.

“We had to put some gel on your eyes so you wouldn’t get corneal abrasions,” Reilly said. “That’s why everything is blurry. The drops will help get it off.”

Again, she said, “Where am I?”

“We’re at Peterson’s medical center,” Reilly said. “This is the intermediate care unit. When we got to you in the tunnel, we thought you weren’t going to make it. Someone had stuffed a piece of hospital gown in your bullet wound. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be here now.”

Webb. He shot me and then saved my life. But why?

“I put a chest tube in right away,” Reilly continued. “Your lung expanded, but there were… complications. Luckily, we got you out of there in time.”

“How long has it been?”

“You’ve been out for almost a week.”

The eye drops were working. All around her, details came into focus: Lunde’s tear-stained face marked by a fresh diagonal scar across his forehead, Reilly shining a penlight into her eyes. She was in a hospital bed, semi-upright. Insulated blankets covered most of her body, and a bandage crossed her chest and right shoulder. As she took a breath, she felt a twinge of pain in her right side where the chest tube had gone in.

“Where’s Dad?”

Lunde frowned and took her right hand in his own. “Your father… is in intensive care.”

“What do you mean? Is he awake? Can I see him?”

Lunde exchanged a glance with Reilly.

“Alexandra, your dad had a cardiac arrest before we could get to him,” Reilly said. “Fortunately, one of the guards knew CPR, but he was down for several minutes before we got him intubated.”

“What?” Although she didn’t understand it all, the tone of Reilly’s voice was not encouraging.

“He’s in a coma,” Reilly said. “Hemodynamically, he’s stable. But…”

She shook her head. “No. That’s not…” Her voice trailed off as she remembered the pool of blood expanding from her father’s back and the sucking sound that came from the wound with each inhale. “Is he alive? I mean, is he…?”

Again, she caught the exchanged look. “We’re not sure,” Lunde said. “There may have been some brain damage because he wasn’t breathing. He wasn’t getting any oxygen. We’ve done a lot of tests, CT scans, EEGs…”

“We’ll just have to wait and see,” Reilly finished.

“I want to see him.”

Alex tried to push herself up into a sitting position but the sharp pain in her side and another in her chest caused her to collapse back onto the bed. “Alexandra, listen to me,” Reilly said. “You’ll be able to see your father soon, but you need to be careful. Your wounds still have to heal.”

“I should have been able to protect him,” she murmured. “I didn’t act fast enough.”

“What happened was not your fault,” Lunde said.

“How did Webb even get out? Why didn’t he kill me when he had the chance?”

“Agent Ellzey was conducting an unauthorized interrogation during the debriefing. It would appear Colonel Webb was not properly sedated following that interrogation.”

“Did he get away?”

“He collapsed the southern end of the main tunnel and then destroyed one of our security outposts. We have no idea where he went after he made it past the south portal. We’ve searched every corner of the Springs three times over but…”

A beep sounded from a pager on Reilly’s lab coat. She looked down at the device. “I’m sorry, General. I have to run. You can take her to the ICU, but not for too long. She needs rest.”

“Understood,” Lunde said. Reilly nodded and then left the room. Alex watched as the door swung shut. Then she turned to look at Lunde. Deep bruise-colored circles occupied the hollows of his eyes. His skin was sickly pale. She realized Lunde was now in charge of the Directorate; he was her father’s deputy and second in line in the chain of command. She wanted more than anything to find out if her father would be all right. However, Lunde was right there, and his lost, forlorn expression was just as concerning.

“How have you been?” Alex said.

Lunde looked surprised. “I… I’m managing.”

“You look tired.”

Lunde offered a halfhearted smile and then chuckled. “I suppose I do, but your father trusted me to keep things running in his absence.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“You’ve done all I could hope just by waking up. Morale has been low this past week. It will give everyone a boost to know you’re all right.”

“Me? Why would—”

“You mean a lot to all of us. Not just to your father and me, but everyone. I know I ordered you not to go after Webb, but a lot of people appreciate how you tried to stop him even after your father was shot.”

“I just thought it was the right thing to do.”

“Your father would be proud of you.”

“H-He’s going to make it… right? He’ll be okay?”

Lunde put a hand on her bedrail and then looked at the floor and answered quietly, “I wish I knew.”

“Will you take me to see him? Doctor Reilly said we could go.”

“Yes. But just wait here a moment.”

Lunde left the room and returned pushing a wheelchair.

“Gene…” she began to protest.

“Just for now.”

Lunde rolled the wheelchair to the side of the bed. He pressed a button near the base of her mattress and then slid the bed’s left side rail down toward the floor. He took a step back, and she gave him a tiny nod before starting to push herself up. She tried to ignore the pain in her side. Lunde moved to help, but she held up her hand. “No, I’m fine.”

She managed to prop herself up and swung her legs over the edge of the mattress. She put a hand to her side and felt the bandage underneath her gown. As far as she could tell, her movement hadn’t ripped any of her stitches, and there were no signs of bleeding. Nevertheless, the pain remained. She kept her hand pressed over the bandage while she waited for the discomfort to lessen.

With her free hand, she reached under her gown and removed five thin cables attached to her body by circular adhesive pads. When the last of the pads detached from her skin, the steady beep of her EKG machine became a shrill whine. Lunde switched off the EKG. The parallel flat blue and green lines vanished from the screen. The noise stopped.

She remained attached to the bed only by an IV line into her left forearm. She looked at it distastefully and then pulled the line out and held her finger over the dot of blood that appeared. Lunde brought a Band-Aid, which she opened and placed on her arm. Then she put her feet to the cold surface of the hospital room floor and stood. Her vision blurred and the world seemed to tilt like a deck of a ship in a storm. Lunde put a hand on her shoulder to steady her.

“Maybe this should wait,” Lunde said.

The lightheadedness passed. “I’m okay.”

Her muscles felt tired and weak as she sat in the wheelchair. She was suddenly glad she would not have to walk to see her father. Lunde began to wheel her forward. She leaned back and did her best to relax.

Outside the ICU, Lunde brought her to a stop. “It’s General Bedford’s daughter,” he explained to the nurse at the station.

Inside, dozens of patients occupied the darkened room, each in a separate alcove. Every single bed was in use. The heavily bandaged and sedated men and women were guards and staff from Cheyenne Mountain. Most lay connected to ventilators, which hiccupped and wheezed, supplying bursts of oxygen.

A nurse standing at the side of one of the beds turned and approached as they stopped just inside the door. The woman had dark skin and a reassuring smile. “I’m Deirdre. Are you the general’s daughter?”

“Yes.” Alex scanned the dim alcoves for her father.

“He’s this way,” Deirdre said and set off toward the far end of the room.

Lunde wheeled her down the narrow passageway between the beds to one of the corner alcoves. Even with the monitoring equipment and ventilator attachments, she immediately recognized her father. His eyes were closed, and a thick tube ran out of his mouth and into a machine located on one side of the bed. Above the machine sat a small monitor that produced a steady beeping sound. He lay with his head poorly supported by the pillows, which tended to follow the mattress contours.

“It’s not like your bed at home,” Deirdre said. “This mattress prevents pressure sores.”

“What are those?” Alex said, indicating the tubes in her father’s nose and mouth.

Deirdre lightly touched one of the tubes. “This one is attached to the ventilator to help him breathe. He can actually breathe on his own, and we exercise him every day.”

“And the other?”

“That’s a nasogastric tube. It removes excess stomach contents, and we also use it to feed him.”

“Can I…?”

“Sure,” Deirdre said.

Lunde locked the wheels of the chair. Alex stood somewhat unsteadily, bracing her hands on the rails. Slowly, she reached over to touch her father.

“Here.” Deirdre unlocked the rail and moved it out of the way.

Alex bent over and touched her father. Her fingers ran across his face, neck, and chest. She saw another tube exiting the right side of her father’s torso and attached to a bubbling plastic receptacle.

“Dad?” she said, half expecting him to open his eyes. “It’s me. I’m here. I’m all right. Gene is here, too.”

Bedford did not move. Alex found she could kneel beside the bed and place her head on his chest. She reached a hand up to his arm. Her palm brushed across an IV tube beneath the sheets. Feeling the IV caused tears to form in her eyes. She trembled and buried her head in the blankets. “Please… just wake up. Just wake up. You have to get better. You have to.”

Her cries turned to sobs. His consciousness had to be somewhere in his body. He must be aware of her presence. He could hear her pleas for him to recover. But then why wouldn’t be just open his eyes and see her next to him?

“I-I’m sorry,” she said in between her sobs. “I shouldn’t… I shouldn’t have stopped Captain Shepherd back in New York. He would have shot him. He would have shot Webb. I would have been okay. I just… I just didn’t want anyone else to get hurt. I should have let them do it. It’s my fault. I’m sorry… Just don’t leave me. I know you can hear me. Don’t die… Please, don’t die.”

Lunde placed a hand on her shoulder and stood next to her until the tremors subsided and her crying faded into sniffles. “You couldn’t have known this would happen. If anyone is to blame, it’s the Committee. Agent Ellzey wouldn’t have risked conducting that interrogation without their approval.”

“I’m still the one that told Captain Shepherd we should go along with Webb’s plan. If I had just stayed quiet, someone on the team could have shot him right there and none of this would have happened. I couldn’t even stop Webb from hurting my dad.”

“None of this is your fault. Blaming yourself won’t help you or your father.”

“I just want him to be okay.”

Deirdre knelt beside her. “Honey, you’ve had a big shock. You need to get some rest.”

Alex wiped a hand across her face to clear away the tears clinging to the corners of her eyes. With a sniffle, she looked at her father. “I love you, Dad. I know you’ll get better.”

Lunde gently but firmly helped her back into the wheelchair. Alex turned toward Deirdre. “Will he… will he be all right?”

“That’s up to the Lord, child. But we can pray.”

She shook her head. “I don’t believe in that.”

But Mom did. For a moment, she closed her eyes and bowed her head. Dear God, please let my father live.

Lunde wheeled her toward the door. She looked back and watched her father, hoping somehow he would wake up before she left. Her vision blurred as tears returned to her eyes. She took several deep breaths to keep from crying. After the door closed behind them, she looked down and closed her eyes.

She and Lunde were silent on the way back to her room. At her bedside, Lunde helped her out of the chair and up onto the mattress. There was a slight pain in her gut as she swung her legs up onto the bed. “Thanks for taking me to see him.”

“Of course,” Lunde said. “Is there anything I can get for you?”

She shook her head but then hesitated. A flash came of Webb’s horrible eyes looking down at her. But then the memory shifted to Shepherd’s alarmed look and the sound of his voice as he tried to keep her awake. She had wanted to reach out and grab him as if he could somehow keep her from slipping away. “Could you tell Captain… I mean, can you… tell the team I’m okay?”

“I’ll contact Captain Shepherd. He’ll let everyone know you’re awake. He stayed here with you for quite some time, you know.”

“He did?”

“He led the initial search for Colonel Webb but after we recalled the team, he came to see you.”

“How long was he here?”

“He spent the night waiting while you were in intensive care. He’s come each morning since then. Would you like to see him?”

“Yes,” she said quickly and then added, “if he’s not busy or anything.”

“I’m sure he’ll be glad to hear you’re awake. Will you be okay for a few minutes?”

“I’ll be fine.”

Lunde nodded and then left the room. She listened until his footsteps faded away down the hall before leaning back into the soft mattress.

It occurred to her she had failed to mention her dream to Lunde. Would that strange darkness return if she went to sleep? The dream was more vivid than any she had ever experienced. Everything about it seemed real. The memory of that frigid cold caused her to curl up on the bed. All that anxiety and fear during her search through the facility. The strange heartbeat that had been ever constant in her mind. Worst were the memories of her mother: the glazed over eyes, dead and staring at nothing.

How many of the dream’s elements had come from her meeting with General Martin? The Antarctic research outpost, the black sphere, and perhaps even the aftermath of the outbreak she had seen at the bottom of the lift. But none of it was real. It was just a dream… wasn’t it?

A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. Lunde entered from the corridor. “That was fast,” she said.

“I used the phone at the nurse’s station. Captain Shepherd will be here shortly.”

“Is he over at Carson?”

“He's staying at Pike’s Peak for now.”

“The lodge?”

“Some of the mountain’s permanent party staff are using it as temporary lodging. Captain Shepherd requested a room here until the situation… normalizes. I also had them set up a room for you.”

Her mood lightened. If she could just see Shepherd again and hear his voice, perhaps even spend some time with him like the night before the debriefing… Except there was something else more pressing, perhaps. “Gene, there’s something I forgot to tell you and Doctor Reilly. I had this dream while I was… out. At least, I think it was a dream.”

“What was… the dream about?” Lunde said with a strangely cautious tone.

“I woke up during a snowstorm outside some sort of outpost. I got inside but couldn’t find anyone, so I took this elevator down beneath the ice. There was this room… full of bodies. They were like the descriptions I’ve read about the outbreaks. Blood everywhere. It looked like the died screaming. I found this cavern with a black sphere. I went to touch the sphere and then I saw… I saw my mom. After that, everything went dark and then there was a light and this needle and some kind of black fluid. It was so strange.”

“How much of your dream came from your conversation with General Martin?”

“A lot of it, I guess. But seeing Mom… I guess maybe that came from General Martin telling me what Dad supposedly saw in the sphere, but… Do you really think it was just a dream?”

“Yes,” Lunde said without hesitation.

“It just all seemed so real. How’d you know what General Martin told me?”

“Your father and I had a long discussion after you returned from New York. The topic came up.”

“You must have heard us talking after Dad kicked everyone out of the debriefing, but… Did you know about how I’m… about how General Martin is my biological father? Did you know before the debriefing, I mean?”

Lunde frowned. “I knew. I’ve known for several years. I’m sorry we kept it from you.”

“So, is it true?”

“What do you mean?”

“General Martin’s story. How he and Dad were working together down in Antarctica?”

“Your father did know General Martin. But I wouldn’t place much stock in anything else John told you.”

“So he was lying to me, then?” She said, the relief in her voice belying her deeper sense of betrayal. Had Martin fooled her so easily with such fantastic lies? “His story was strange, but I… I just thought since he’s my… I thought some of the other stuff might be true, too.”

“I’m sure he was convincing.”

“Do you remember that writing from the video of the subway tunnels?”

Lunde hesitated. “Yes.”

“What did that message mean? It said something about a herald.”

“I have no idea.”

“Why do you think I could read it when no one else could?”

“Perhaps there’s some connection with your abilities.”

Alex and Lunde looked toward the entrance as running footsteps approached from the hallway. She knew those footsteps. They paused outside the room. He must have run all the way here, she thought with mild pleasure.

Shepherd opened the door. His brow was sweaty and his cheeks were flushed. He seemed to have dressed quickly, his faded jeans, a black, un-tucked shirt, and a leather jacket having replaced the grey tiger-striped fatigues he wore on duty.

“General,” he said and gave Lunde a quick nod.

“Hello, Captain,” Lunde said.

Shepherd paused to catch his breath and then looked at Alex. She smiled. “Hi.”

“You’re all right?” Shepherd said as he moved to the bed.

“It hurts where I got shot, but I think I’m okay. Thanks for coming. I’m really glad you’re here.” She wondered if she sounded like a gushing girl. Behind Shepherd, Lunde lingered near the door, looking away from them with a faint smile. She took hold of Shepherd’s right hand, which was resting on the edge of the mattress.

“I’m glad to see you, too,” Shepherd said.

There was a long silence. It seemed to her she had too much to say and yet could not find a way to say it, especially with Lunde only a few meters away. Shepherd looked at their overlapping hands before stepping back.

“I heard you stayed with me a few times.”

Shepherd nodded. “Every day since… since what happened in the tunnel. I went to the officer’s lounge after the debriefing…” He glanced up at her and blushed. “I was about to head out, but that’s when all hell broke loose.”

She nodded, appreciating the blush and Shepherd’s uncertainty.

“I managed to round up Murray and Wilson. It took us a few minutes to find weapons. By the time we got back to the briefing room, your dad was on the ground and you were gone. We followed the wreckage to the tunnel, and…”

“Was anyone on the team hurt?”

“Just a few scrapes and bruises. We were lucky.”

She thought back to the ICU, full of the men and women injured during Webb’s escape. As she gave Shepherd a solemn nod, she wondered how many others had been even less fortunate.

“Is there anything you need?” Shepherd said. “You must be hungry or thirsty.”

“No,” she said, although her stomach felt empty and her mouth dry. “Just… I’ll be fine, just don’t leave, okay?”

“You should eat,” Lunde said. “I need to attend a briefing soon. I’ll have a meal sent.”

“Sir, if I may, do we have an update on the NEA’s movements?”

“The NEA?” Alex said. “What’s been going on?”

“They launched an offensive,” Lunde said. “We’ve lost two of our border outposts in the past three days. They’re heading west with at least a division-sized force.”

“So we’re at war.”

Even after New York, it was difficult to believe the Directorate and New England Alliance had entered open hostilities. The two powers had existed in relative peace for over a decade. The NEA had stretched its influence over the East Coast while the Directorate expanded throughout the Midwest and toward the Pacific. Only in the past few years had the specter of conflict arisen. Disputes over border territories as well as the NEA’s frequent accusations of sabotage and theft of resources had turned the Directorate’s once benign relationship with the Alliance into one of mutual distrust and aversion. Her father had believed a treaty with the NEA would serve as a major step toward reuniting the country. Now, the only way for the Directorate to reach its goal was through all-out war.

“Do they know about my dad? Is that why they’re attacking?”

“It is possible,” Lunde said.

“I want to help. I want to go back out with the team.”

“We’re not going anywhere until you’ve recovered,” Shepherd said.

“Captain Shepherd is right. Our forces can hold their own. You need to recover.”

“I’ll be fine in a few days. If we’re fighting a war, then I can save people’s lives by being out there.”

“This won’t be a firefight or a skirmish,” Shepherd said. “This will be a hundred times worse than New York. We won’t be fighting a militia. We’ll be fighting a trained military force.”

“So? We’re stronger.”

“Wouldn’t you prefer staying near your father?” Lunde said.

“I… I would. But what good am I here if we’re fighting a war and I can’t use my abilities to help? You said everyone appreciated that I went after Webb. What are they going to think if I stay here when they get sent off to fight?”

“No one will think badly of you,” Shepherd said.

“I don’t want to be useless. Especially not after what Webb did to Dad.”

Shepherd exchanged a glance with Lunde and then sat on the edge of the bed. “We’ll deal with Webb. It’s only a matter of time until we find out where he went. For now, your job is to get better.”

A knock came on the door. Doctor Reilly entered and looked from Shepherd to Lunde. “Am I interrupting anything?”

“No,” Lunde said. “Come in.”

Reilly went to the side of the bed opposite Shepherd. “One of the nurses told me you went to see your father?”

Alex nodded.

“Were you able to walk?” Reilly said.

“I was in a wheelchair.”

Reilly removed the medical chart from the foot of the bed and made several notes. “Probably for the best this soon after waking up. That said, as long as you get plenty of rest, I don’t mind if you walk for short periods. You’ve been off your feet for a while, and you need to exercise your muscles. Just make sure someone is with you.”

“When can I leave?”

“Ideally, I’d want you to stay longer for observation, but we’re at capacity and understaffed. Unless General Lunde has any objections, I’m willing to sign off on your release.”

Alex looked at Lunde. “Can I, Gene? You said there’s a room at the lodge.”

“Are you sure you’ll be all right? I won’t have much time to check in.”

“I can keep an eye on her, sir,” Shepherd said.

Lunde gave Alex a questioning look. She responded with an eager nod. He smiled. “Very well.”

“I want you to come to see me in two days, Alexandra,” Reilly said. “In the meantime, get plenty of rest and limit the time you spend on your feet. If there are any complications, contact me immediately.”

“You’ll let me know if my dad wakes up, right?”

“Of course.”

“Thank you.”

“Two days, then,” Reilly said before letting herself out into the hall.

Lunde turned to Shepherd. “Captain, please make sure she gets to the lodge.”

“Yes, sir.”

Lunde went to the corner of the room and hefted a small gym bag. He set the bag down on the counter next to the bed. “I brought some of your things from the mountain. I’ll be at headquarters for the rest of the day. Call if you need me.”

“I will. Thanks for everything.”

Lunde smiled and then straightened his uniform and left the room. Once he was gone, Shepherd retrieved the duffle and set it next to Alex. She reached into the bag and withdrew a set of clothes and a pair of shoes. “Thanks,” she said, looking down at her hospital gown. “I didn’t want to have to keep wearing this.”

Shepherd grinned. “It doesn’t look bad.”

“It’s not something I want to walk outside in.”

“Walking? To the lodge? I’ll have someone drive us.”

“It’s not that far away, is it?”

“No, but…”

“I’ll be okay.”

“We’ll see how you feel when we get to the lobby. I’ll let you get changed.”

She stood from the bed and took a moment to make sure her legs would hold. Once Shepherd was gone, she undid the laces of her hospital gown, draped it across the bed, and then put on her clothes and stepped into her shoes. She brushed her hair behind her ears and went to the sink to rinse her face. After zipping shut and hefting the duffle, she went out into the hall.

“I’ll take that,” Shepherd said, gesturing to the duffle. She handed it over, and he slung the bag over his shoulder.

She followed Shepherd toward the lobby but hesitated as they neared the ICU. She wanted to see her father again before leaving, but she doubted she could keep herself from breaking down and crying if she returned to the room and saw the tangle of life support tubes sticking from his body.

“I’m sorry,” Shepherd said. She offered a slight nod. Outside, deep grey clouds hung close to the earth. Shepherd paused. “I can still call us a driver.”

“I can make it.”

Shepherd guided her through the parking lot. To the west, a black storm front silhouetted the ridgeline of Cheyenne Mountain. Lightning arced from the clouds beyond the peak. The low rumbles of thunder accompanying the lightning sounded strangely distant.

“We’re in for a storm,” Shepherd said as they stopped at a crosswalk.

She nodded but in the back of her mind, a voice whispered, No. It’s already here.