Alex struggled to increase her pace as she entered her eighth lap around Peterson Air Force Base’s 400-meter track. She sped up for half a stretch but then the dull pain in her side became a knife cutting into her chest. A voice in her head begged her to quit, to slow down and end the burning in her legs, the shortness of breath, and the ache in her side. But she couldn’t give up, especially while Shepherd was watching and appraising her recovery. As she came into the last curve, she blocked out the pain and focused on the air rushing past her face and the cool drizzle against her brow. With a final burst, she crossed the finish line and then staggered off the track and onto the grass where she stood bent over at the hips, her hands braced on her thighs.

“Well?” she gasped.

Shepherd approached with an expression of concern. “I thought you could do better after three weeks.”

“What was my time?”

“Sixteen minutes and twenty-five seconds. You’re two and a half from your best.”

She straightened, holding her hands on her hips. “It’s still passing. It’s good enough, isn’t it?”

“For what?” Shepherd said in a mild voice.

“Don’t give me, ‘for what’. You know, ‘for what’.”

“Everyone on the team can do it in under fourteen,” Shepherd said, his tone now serious. “You could, too, before…”

“I’ll be fine. It doesn’t hurt anymore where I got shot, just in my side where they put in that tube. I only need a few more days for it to keep healing. Besides, you said I only had to pass.”

She stared at Shepherd and waited for a response. Above her, the sky was dark grey. A drizzle fell over Peterson and distant thunder competed with the sounds of aircraft taxing along the airfield. They turned to watch as a dull grey C-130 with faded lettering on its fuselage sputtered off the tarmac and rose into the air before banking toward the east as it gained altitude.

“They’re using just about anything that can fly,” Shepherd said.

“And you need everyone on the team.”

“That’s true, but are you sure you can keep up?” Shepherd said innocently. “I mean, all the guys…”

“Don’t give me that BS! You need me if you want us to be able to go out and fight the NEA. General Lunde wouldn’t send you out without me.”

Shepherd grinned. “Still… if you can’t keep up…”

“I can keep up.” She spoke slowly and accentuated each word. Shepherd’s grin grew wider, and she had to stay herself from using her abilities to rip away the turf beneath his feet and knock him to the ground. She had spent the past three weeks working to recover from her injuries. At first, her body had ached, screamed, and groaned at every exertion, but as she graduated from short walks and strolls around the base and then to prolonged jogs and finally long-distance runs and sprints on the track, her progress had quickened. She now felt she was on the verge of returning to her normal fitness level.

“I can do it. I’m ready to go back out with the team. I won’t be a burden.”

“Well, you did pass.” Shepherd glanced at his stopwatch and then regarded her for a moment. “As long as you keep it up, I don’t see any reason why I can’t tell Doctor Reilly that you’ve made a full recovery.”

“Really?”

“You’re fit for duty.”

A wide smile appeared on her face. Finally. We won’t have to sit here doing nothing while people are being killed. We can go out and stop the NEA. Maybe we can even find Webb and…

She looked down at the grass and closed her eyes. She felt tired, and not just from the run. Webb’s escape had haunted her for the past weeks. Whenever she slept, her dreams brought back the events of that day: her father sprawled on the floor with blood expanding around him, the dark and bloody corridors of Cheyenne Mountain, and the bullet tearing into her chest. Except near the end of the nightmare, the events shifted away from a reflection of reality. Instead of crouching and treating her wound, Webb would stare at her with his horrifying, glittering eyes as she drowned on her own blood. She often woke to find herself clutching at her throat.

During the day, she tried to keep herself occupied by researching General Martin’s story. So far, she had kept her discovery of the Lansing Research Station’s digital encyclopedia entry a secret from everyone except for Shepherd. The entry itself only explained that the station had been engaged in magnetic and atmospheric research. It failed to mention anything about an underground section of the complex or the artifact supposedly buried beneath.

Shepherd glanced at the darkening clouds. “We should head in.”

“Sure.” To her, the rain felt good, but Shepherd’s uniform was beginning to soak through. She wiped the sweat and rainwater from her brow and headed toward the athletic center.

Inside, Shepherd split off while Alex continued to the showers. The locker room, like the rest of the facility, was empty. Over the past few weeks, the center had become less and less a hub of activity. It was the same for all of Peterson save for the airfield and the hospital. Troops, equipment, supplies, and support personnel were all heading to the front on the lumbering military transports. On the return trip, the same aircraft brought back the wounded, the dead, and damaged or malfunctioning equipment: broken bodies and broken machines.

Alex undressed and went to one of the showers. The pleasant feeling of warm water made her close her eyes and take in a deep breath. She loosened her bun and allowed her hair to fall free to her shoulders. Her muscles, still tense from the run, began to relax as the warm streams flowed over her body.

She looked down and ran a hand over the scar on her right breast. The jagged, discolored tissue formed a small indent that blemished her otherwise smooth skin. The bullet wound to her right arm had healed in a similar manner, leaving another scar just below her shoulder. She found it strange that the small, one-inch scar on her right side remained the only significant source of pain. Even when she was not working out, she sometimes felt a sharp pain where the insertion of the chest tube had bruised her ribs.

She finished her shower and spent several minutes drying her hair while she stood with a bath towel wrapped around her body. Afterwards, she dressed quickly in her fatigues and a rain jacket.

To her surprise, Shepherd was standing in the main lobby.

“Thanks for waiting.”

“I don’t have anything else to do… yet.” He gestured around the empty room. “You know, if things keep going like this, we’ll be the last ones left in town. We’ll have to turn out the lights.”

“We can deploy now, can’t we? As soon as Doctor Reilly signs off.”

“Sure, but I haven’t even received a warning order from higher. Even while you were recovering, they could have given us something to prep for. Don’t you think it’s strange that every other combat unit has already packed up and gone, and we’re still here twiddling our thumbs?”

“I suppose.”

“I wonder if they’re keeping us for something… really special.”

She couldn’t tell if Shepherd was serious or only joking. “What would that be? Something ‘really special?’”

Shepherd grinned. “Maybe they’ve got us in reserve so we can go in and save everyone’s ass at the last second.”

“That sounds like something Murray would say.”

“Well, it is what he said. We’re getting antsy sitting around when there’s a war on just up the street.”

Shepherd held the door open for her as they walked out of the lobby and into the rain. They jogged across the parking lot to Shepherd’s truck. Soon, they were out of the empty parking lot and on the road.

“Do you want to come to the medical center?” Shepherd said. “I need to track down Doctor Reilly and have her sign off on your recovery.”

She went to the medical center almost daily to see her father. She often went alone; it was easier for her to talk to him that way. During her first visit alone to the ICU, she had stood by his bed for almost an hour and told him of her plan to recover so she could help fight the NEA. There were never any signs he was aware of her presence. As the days progressed, her visits grew shorter and shorter. She found it difficult to think of things to say beyond talking about her recovery efforts or how she hoped he would wake up. There was also the gnawing feeling her visits were useless and her father’s consciousness was already gone, leaving behind only a frail, unresponsive body. During her most recent trips, she had spent almost all of her time sitting in silence, barely able to look at his face.

“It’s all right if you don’t want to go,” Shepherd said.

“It’s not that. I don’t know, it’s just… I don’t know if I’m even doing any good by being there. I wish I knew if he was going to wake up. If he was going to get better, he would have woken up by now, wouldn’t he?”

“He could wake up any day now.”

Alex only nodded.

They turned into the hospital lot and parked in a stall close to the front entrance. Unlike the fitness center, the hospital was bustling with activity. As she watched, a Humvee with a red cross painted on its side pulled up to the emergency room. A swarm of medical personnel descended on the vehicle and rushed two occupied stretchers into the building. More casualties from the front. How many more are inside?

“I’m going to find Doctor Reilly,” Shepherd said once they were in the lobby. “Do you want me to meet you at the ICU?”

“I don’t think I’ll be long. I’ll just come back here when I’m done.”

She rode an elevator to the second floor and checked in at the nurse’s station outside the ICU. As she passed through the doors into the unit, she saw it was overflowing. Patients occupied all the curtained alcoves with numerous hospital beds added along the crowded trail through the center of the room to help with the additional casualties. She did her best to keep out of the way while nurses, respiratory technicians, lab personnel, and physicians rushed about in what seemed to her to be chaos rather than care.

When she reached her father’s side, she stood next to the bed and looked down at him. Over the buzz of activity in the room, she listened to the rhythmic beeps of his EKG machine and the steady beat of raindrops against the window. Her eyes lingered over his face. “It’s me. I passed everything for the fitness test today. Captain Shepherd graded me. I just finished with the run. My time’s still down a bit, but that’s mostly just because my side still hurts.”

She went to the window, parted a corner of the drapes, and gazed at the darkening horizon. Her glass reflected the sadness on her face. She let the drape fall back but continued to face the window. “I… I’m sorry for not coming much lately. I just… I wish I knew when you were going to wake up. If you can hear me, I want to let you know I’m going to do my best if Gene decides to send us out. I won’t let the NEA do any more damage. We’re the ones that should be rebuilding the country, not them.”

A gust of wind blew rain against the window. “I love you, Dad. I’ll make you proud of me.”

She turned back toward her father’s bed and watched as the hospital staff bustled about the unit. As far as she could tell, no one was paying her or her father any attention. On other days, medical personnel checking in on him often interrupted her visits. She tried to make eye contact with some of the nurses and doctors, but none of them acknowledged her presence; they were all busy with the injured soldiers who all seemed to have flooded into the ICU overnight.

She sat and continued to scan the room. She felt anger. She wanted to tackle one of the passing nurses or doctors and demand to know why no one was caring for her father. Why isn’t anyone even coming to at least check on him? Doesn’t anyone care?

Across the room, she noticed Deirdre Cross, looking disheveled and tired. The nurse replaced a chart at the foot of a bed and then turned and caught Alex’s eye. “Alex,” Deirdre said as she approached, “how are we doing today?”

Alex stood. “Why aren’t you taking care of my dad?” she said loudly. The eddying current of people around her father’s bed slowed to a near halt. “Are you just going to let him die? Isn’t anyone going to even look at him?”

She was immediately sorry she had said anything. Everyone was staring at her, and she knew she was out of line.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured.

Deirdre reached out to hug her and said in a soft voice, “Alex…”

It was too much. Alex fled from the ICU and escaped into the stairwell. As soon as the door shut behind her, she sank down onto the stairs and cupped her face in her hands. “Dad,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “Just wake up. I miss you. We all need you. We need you to help beat the NEA. We need you back. I need you back.”

From beyond the door, she heard the bustle of activity: hurried footsteps and hospital stretchers moving down the hall, the intercom directing doctors and nurses to operating rooms and care units, and barely audible above it all, the sound of crying similar to her own. She sniffled and wiped at her eyes before standing up and peeking through the wire-glass window of the door. Two women, mother and daughter from their appearance, sat in the waiting area by the ICU. The mother and a grey-haired doctor Alex recognized from an earlier visit were both consoling the younger woman. The woman’s sobs were even more audible as Alex focused on the scene.

Is she someone’s wife? Alex wondered, thinking back to the funeral several weeks earlier and how Hensley’s wife had begun to cry in the middle of the service. Is her husband in the ICU with Dad? Is he a soldier? Is he going to die? Is he already gone?

She sat back on the cold floor. She felt ashamed; the wounded soldiers returning from the front needed just as much if not more care than her father did. She wanted to go back and apologize, but she knew it would only be another distraction amidst the chaos. As she stood, she looked again out the wire-glass window. The two women were gone but the old doctor remained. His expression was one of exhaustion and helplessness. Alex turned away and went down the stairs.

She returned to the lobby and sat in an empty corner of the room. People came and went. It seemed the activity within the hospital had a purpose of its own, quite apart from the patients spread across the wings. It was a machine that made them all into cogs and wheels, and the broken bodies into malfunctioning machinery.

“Well, what a surprise!”

Alex whirled in her seat. Agent Jack Ellzey stood behind her, grinning. How had he managed to sneak up without her noticing?

“Ms. Bedford. The very person I wanted to see.”

She stood and stepped away. “What are you doing here?”

“I just came to see our brave, wounded troopers. Sort of a PR thing, you know, to remind everyone that the Committee cares a great deal about them and will take very good care of their families, if…” Ellzey’s smile became a lugubrious frown, “Well, if they crash and burn, as they say.”

“They don’t want to see you! They’ve got enough problems!”

Ellzey eyed the medical personnel moving about the lobby. “I can see that! But how do you know they don’t want to see me?”

“You’re responsible for all this! You were the one interrogating Webb when he got away! You’re responsible for… for all of this!”

Ellzey again took on a pained look. “I can hardly be blamed if the personnel under the Directorate’s control failed to sedate him properly. At any rate, we found out what was under our friend’s disguise, didn’t we? Pretty awful!”

A sudden urge came to attack Ellzey, to punch him in the face or toss one of the chairs at his head. Maybe that would wipe away his superior smile and infuriatingly smooth voice. He was obviously goading her and yet she couldn’t ignore him. “You’re the one responsible!”

“You have no proof of that. At any rate, the Committee has been very… disappointed in General Lunde’s management of the present crisis. We are considering putting someone more… how shall I say it… more competent in charge.”

“It’s not the Committee’s decision! General Lunde is in charge until my father gets better!”

Ellzey’s face contorted into a snarl. “He’s not going to get better!” he said, almost spitting the words out.

She stood in shock. How could even someone like Ellzey say something so malicious? Yet she had thought the same thing a thousand times. “H-He’s… That isn’t…” Her vision blurred with tears despite her struggles to maintain her composure.

“Hey! Get away from her!” Shepherd’s voice pierced through the busy lobby.

Ellzey turned and grinned. “Hello, Captain. I’m glad you found us.”

Shepherd came to Alex’s side and noticed the wetness in her eyes. “What the hell did you say to her?”

“I told her the truth.”

“He said my dad wasn’t going to wake up.”

Shepherd advanced on Ellzey. “Who do you think you are?”

“That’s a subject for another time. Today, I have some news for you.”

“I don’t care. Apologize. Now”

“How noble. All right.” Ellzey turned to Alex and smiled. “Let me offer you my apologies for forcing you to face the fact your father is a vegetable and the command staff of this—”

Shepherd’s fist slammed into Ellzey’s face. Ellzey stumbled backward and fell heavily on his backside. But in a blur, he recovered and launched himself at Shepherd. The two men tumbled to the ground, crashing into one of the chairs and knocking it over. Ellzey threw a punch into Shepherd’s gut, and Shepherd countered by driving his elbow into Ellzey’s chest. Alex watched in horror as Ellzey caught Shepherd in the face with a well-aimed kick. Ellzey pushed himself up off the ground and then reached and drew a handgun from under his jacket.

Shepherd stood and began to move toward Ellzey but then froze when he saw the weapon.

“Put it down,” Alex told Ellzey.

He blood off his lower lip. “Or else what, Ms. Bedford? Do you think you can stop me before I put a round into Captain Shepherd?”

A coterie of onlookers had gathered. Hospital personnel, physicians, and visitors had created a U-shaped formation with Alex, Shepherd, and Ellzey in the middle.

“Everything’s fine,” Shepherd said. “He isn’t going to fire.”

“You just assaulted me,” Ellzey said. “I would be well within my rights to shoot you.”

“I’ll kill you if you hurt him,” Alex said.

Ellzey grinned. “That’s just what I wanted to hear.”

Ellzey pulled the trigger. The weapon’s barrel gave off a flash and a concussive blast. Alex clenched her hand into a fist. The world seemed to slow. The frame of Ellzey’s handgun snapped apart as Shepherd reeled back. Her vision flushed red. An intense pulse like a beating heart wiped away all other sounds. All she could see was Ellzey’s grin. Something inside her snapped. She lashed out. Her mind flooded with images. All at once, she saw every system of organs, every bone, and every muscle in Ellzey’s body.

She sent Ellzey crashing into the wall. He fell to the floor on his hands and knees and then began to pick himself up. Her vision darkened further. Blood trickled from Ellzey’s nose and ears and yet his grin widened. In the background of the steady pulse beating in her head, she heard the faint sound of someone calling her name. She closed her eyes and felt all of her energy drain away. She sank down, and when she opened her eyes, her vision had returned to normal.

“Alex!” Deirdre was standing over her. Behind the nurse stood two armed guards.

“What?” she said in a dazed voice.

Deirdre knelt beside Alex and held her head in both hands. “Your eyes!”

“They’re red, aren’t they?” Alex said, her mind still in a haze.

Deirdre looked around, holding Alex fiercely as a lioness would protect a cub. In a soft but commanding tone, she said, “All of you, get about your business.” She turned to Ellzey and then gestured toward one of the guards, “You! Arrest this man.”

The guard approached but said in an uncertain voice, “Ma’am, he’s an agent. We can’t—”

Deirdre glared at the guard. “I don’t care who he is! Get him the hell out of here!” She turned back to Alex, “How are you feelin’, hon?”

“I’m fine, but…”

She looked for Shepherd, expecting to see him lying on the floor. Instead, he was up and walking toward Ellzey. A faint burn marked the front of his uniform but there was no bullet hole. Ellzey missed? From that close?

Ellzey stood and wiped away the blood from his nose and ears. “Well, that was a pleasant surprise. The Committee will—” Shepherd shoved Ellzey face-first against the wall. He grabbed Ellzey’s arm and twisted it backwards, forcing him to the ground in the same motion.

“Airman,” Shepherd said, pointing at the guard. “Take Agent Ellzey into custody.”

“B-But, sir, we can’t.”

Ellzey laughed. “You really think you can arrest me? You don’t have the authority. The moment the Committee finds out, you’ll—”

“Shut up,” Shepherd interrupted, increasing his pressure on the Ellzey’s arm and causing him to grunt in pain.

Ellzey looked at Alex. “I have to say I’m impressed, Ms. Bedford.”

“What are you talking about?”

Ellzey ignored her. “Let me go, Captain. You’re wasting my time.”

“You want me to let you go? Then tell me what the hell you were thinking when you told Alex her father wasn’t going to wake up.”

“Is that what you’re so concerned about? Really? You should be glad her father is in a coma. I doubt he would approve of you trying to screw his daughter.”

Anger flashed across Shepherd’s face. Alex thought he would strike Ellzey again but instead, he took a deep breath. “You had that gun loaded with blanks. Why?”

Blanks? Why would Ellzey be carrying blanks?

“I was hoping for a reaction.”

“You set this up? You wanted her to attack you?”

“It’s amazing what you can figure out when you put your mind to it.”

“What the hell were you thinking?! You could have put her into a coma!”

“Technically, she would have put herself into a coma.”

Shepherd shook his head in disgust and shoved Ellzey to the floor. “If I ever see you talking to anyone on my team again, your status as an agent won’t protect you.”

“And if I ever see you in this hospital again,” Deirdre added, “I will shoot you myself!”

Ellzey stood and straightened his jacket. “I hope all of you have a nice day, and… Ms. Bedford, please give my regards to your father.” Without waiting for a response, he brushed past them out of the lobby and then got into a black SUV in the parking lot. A moment later, the vehicle sped away.

Both guards looked nervously around the lobby and then at Shepherd and Deirdre.

“You kids go about your business.” Deirdre turned to the assembled crowd and called out, “Show’s over, folks! We’ve got sick people to take care of. Get going!”

Shepherd knelt next to Alex and helped her up off the floor.

“You with her?” Deirdre said.

“Yes,” Shepherd replied.

“Well, I don’t know exactly what goes on, but you take good care of her, you hear?”

Shepherd nodded.

Impulsively, Alex reached out and hugged Deirdre. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For taking such good care of my dad.”

Deirdre’s voice softened to a whisper. “Your dad is in God’s hands more than mine, honey. It may seem like we’re ignoring him, but we have the whole team working with him. Sometimes, though, it does get a bit… hasty in there, you know what I mean?”

“Yes,” Alex whispered in her ear.

Deirdre held Alex at arm’s length, looking again at her eyes. “They’re not red anymore,” she said with wonder.

Deirdre and the crowd of onlookers were soon out of the lobby, and the hustle and bustle of activity returned to normal. Alex and Shepherd remained in the corner of the room.

“Are you okay?” Shepherd said.

“I still feel dizzy.”

“Here, take a seat.” Shepherd picked up the chair knocked over during the fight and motioned for her to sit. Once she was off her feet, Shepherd sat next to her. He ran a hand over his face and winced as his fingers brushed across the bruise forming above his left cheek.

“You should have someone look at that,” Alex said.

“I’ve had worse. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“My abilities really are getting stronger. Is that what Ellzey was trying to prove?”

“I don’t know. But I shouldn’t have started that fight. I’m sorry I got you involved.”

Alex looked down. “I’m glad you hit him.”

She thought about what Ellzey had said about her father’s condition. She tried to picture her father awake and on his feet, but all she could conjure were images of the breathing tubes running out of his nose, the IV’s and EKG monitors sticking from his body, and the feeding pipe that snaked its way into his mouth and down his throat.

She tried to shut away Ellzey’s voice, but it was impossible. Shepherd put his arm around her shoulders. She leaned over to bury her head against his chest.

“Everything will be okay,” Shepherd said.

“What if he was right?” she sobbed. “What if he was right and my dad’s already gone?”

“He wasn’t right. He was trying to upset you. Nothing he said was true.”

“How do you know? It’s been four weeks. Doctor Reilly doesn’t even know if he’s getting better.”

“Your father is one of the strongest-willed people I know. He isn’t going to die in a coma. I’m sure he’s fighting to wake up. It’s just a matter of time.”

Shepherd’s voice and his reassuring words helped to calm her and suppress the pain from Ellzey’s remarks. Her crying became weak sniffles, and she left her head resting against Shepherd’s chest while she listened to the storm overhead. Eventually, she drew back and wiped the tears from her cheeks.

Shepherd traced a gentle line across her brow with his fingers, combing away strands of hair and brushing them back behind her ear. She reached up to his hand and held it against the side of her face. Her cheeks were warm. “Do you want to… go somewhere else?”

Shepherd quickly withdrew his hand, looking surprised as if he had forgotten where he was. “W-We need to… tell Doctor Reilly about this.”

“Why? I’m not hurt.”

“You got knocked into a coma the last time you tried to use your abilities on someone. I want to make sure you’re okay.”

“All right,” she sighed. It was obvious he was concerned. It made her pleased.

Shepherd stood and offered his hand. “Let’s go to her office. She should still be there.”

She smiled as Shepherd helped her to her feet. She still felt drained from her attack on Ellzey but the feeling of dizziness and the ringing in her ears were gone.

Outside, a Humvee sped through the parking lot. The vehicle stopped at the curb outside the lobby, and a soldier got out and jogged through the rain toward the medical center. Alex watched him as he approached. Shepherd turned to follow her gaze.

“I guess someone called the MPs,” Alex said.

“The whole building heard that gunshot. I’ll tell him everything’s all right.”

The soldier stepped in from the rain. “Sir!” he said in surprise when he noticed Shepherd.

“Everything’s under control,” Shepherd said. “It was just a blank.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Were you called here because of the gunshot?”

“Gunshot? No, sir. We were sent to find you. You’re needed at HQ.”

“What’s going on?”

“No idea, sir. But they need you as soon as possible.”

“Okay. Alex, I need to go to HQ. You can stay here and go see Doctor Reilly or—”

“I’ll come.”

Outside, the downpour battered her jacket. Storm clouds hid the late afternoon sun, and darkness seemed to have shrouded the installation in a black cloak. It was a short but eerie drive to Peterson Air Force Base’s headquarters complex. The headlights of Shepherd’s truck glanced off the swirling fog, and streams of rain obscured the windshield. After he parked, they jogged up the long pathway that led to the middle of the three command buildings. Once inside, Alex caught her breath and waited near the lobby’s entrance as Shepherd went to the main desk.

The building had once served as the headquarters of the North American Aerospace Defense Command, which had originated in Cheyenne Mountain before relocating to Peterson in 2006. After the outbreaks, the base waited empty and abandoned for two years until its reoccupation by the Directorate. With Cheyenne Mountain out of commission until the repairs to the facility were completed, the old headquarters of NORAD was now the Directorate’s strategic nerve center.

Alex looked up at the slanted glass roof above the atrium. Satellite and radar dishes and towering grids holding antennae and communications equipment made the building look like a giant porcupine with quills swaying in the wind. Rainwater poured down both sides of the roof’s apex and distorted the view of the dark clouds overhead. As she watched, an intense flash lit up the sky. A bolt of lightning arced across the clouds above the building, bringing with it a clash of thunder that shook the lobby.

“Let’s hope the power grid holds,” Shepherd said. “General Lunde is waiting for us in the command center.”

“What’s going on?”

“A forward element of the NEA’s main force just hit Kansas City.”

A cold feeling spread over her body. Aside from the small outpost at Topeka and Peterson itself, there were few other obstacles between Kansas City and Colorado Springs. For the past year, the Directorate had stationed personnel around Kansas City in an effort to clear the bodies and wreckage from the outbreaks. It was a slow process but the latest reports showed the city was on the verge of supporting a sizable population.

Alex and Shepherd soon reached the command room. The space was gigantic compared to the control center at the heart of the Cheyenne Mountain complex. Movie theater sized displays covered the walls, showing various satellite maps and live feeds from unmanned aerial vehicles. Rows of desks supporting computers and communications terminals covered much of the floor space while a central platform rose from the center allowing the command staff to oversee the activity. Close to a hundred staff officers and technicians huddled near their respective stations. The noise in the room was enough to drown out the storm.

Alex started to study the images on the forward screens but then spotted Sergeant Raymond Paul sitting at a station in a far corner of the room. He appeared quite pleased with himself and was whistling a Broadway show tune.

Did he get reassigned here? Looks like he’s enjoying this a lot more than the field.

Lunde and a group of officers stood on the main platform watching the displays. One of the officers bit at his fingernails. She recalled that before the outbreaks, men would often gather around similar screens to watch football games.

The UAV feeds focused on the downtown blocks of Kansas City within a ring of freeways featuring dozens of exit and onramps. Tanks, armored personnel carriers, and self-propelled howitzers traversed the roads like an army of ants toward the east. Two airport runways, a terminal, and several hangers were to the north across the Missouri River. Three major traffic bridges and two rail crossings extended over the waters.

Paul spotted Alex and Shepherd. He waved happily and chimed, “Everything’s up to date in Kansas City!”

Radio chatter broadcast over the room’s audios systems.

“This is Phantom X-Ray, we have sporadic indirect fires hitting near Wheeler Airport.”

“Copy Phantom X-Ray, we’re monitoring signals. Uncertain if fires are observed or—”

“I don’t care if they’re observed or unobserved. If they hit the tarmac, our fixed-wings are SOL.”

“This is Firefinder Two-Six. We have indirect fire acquisition from the southeast near Blue Springs.”

“This is Phantom X-Ray. Relay coordinates for counter-battery fire.”

“Copy. Standby. Point of origin is Fifteen Sierra…”

As the voice read out a long string of letters and numbers, Lunde called out across the command room. “Get me eyes on those coordinates!”

“Retasking one of the Shadows!” a technician said.

On one of the smaller wall screens, a view of the Kansas City freeway loop blurred, shifted, and then refocused on a residential area. A plume of smoke blossomed from a park at the edge of a residential neighborhood. The image zoomed in to reveal a pair of wheeled howitzers as the source of the hostile artillery fire. “Got it!” the technician said.

“Relay those coordinates to the MLRS battery at the Speedway,” Lunde said. “If the self-propelled doesn’t make the hit, I want DPICM on that entire park!”

“Copy, sending.”

On the screen, the pair of wheeled howitzers lowered their cannons and began moving out of the park. “Damn it,” one of the senior officers said. “They’re shooting and scooting.”

“Keep visual,” Lunde said. “If need be, we’ll—”

Three detonations erupted along the edges of the park, obliterating several adjacent homes and throwing shrapnel into the trees and brush. The pair of howitzers stopped and began to reverse but then another trio of explosions stuck them dead center and set off a chain of fiery explosions that left behind burning wreckage and mushroom-shaped clouds.

“Phantom X-Ray, this is Kodiak Main,” the technician broadcast. “We have confirmed BDA from your fire mission. Hostile artillery units destroyed.”

“Copy all Kodiak Main.”

A new voice came over the speakers. “This is Phantom Six. Requesting update on reinforcements.” Alex recognized the voice as Colonel Harrison, now the Directorate’s second-in-command.

Lunde descended from the main platform and approached one of the communications desks. He caught Alex’s gaze and then picked up a headset and spoke into it, “This is Kodiak Six. Additional support will arrive on location by tomorrow morning. Can you hold out?”

“We’re stretched thin,” Harrison answered. “If they try to break through along I-70, I’m not sure we can stop them.”

“I need you to hold that city. We cannot afford to let them cross the state line.”

“Unless General Park makes it here by sunrise, we’re going to have to fall back and blow the bridges. I don’t see any other options unless you’re willing to deploy the Valkyrie.”

“We have discussed this already. I do not have the authorization to use our nuclear arsenal.”

“Sir, you are the Directorate’s top authority. The Valkyrie can move on your orders.”

“I will not start a nuclear war with the NEA. General Park’s brigade will be there by morning. Do not abandon your positions under any circumstances.”

There was a long silence. Alex pictured Harrison, no longer immaculate in his dress uniform, smeared with sweat, dust, and smoke trying to convey his desperate situation. Finally, Harrison replied, “Understood. Phantom Six, out.”

Lunde placed his headset back on the desk and approached Alex and Shepherd. “I was wondering where you were, Captain.”

“I’m sorry, General,” Shepherd said. “We were at the medical center.”

“What happened to your face?”

“I had a run-in with Agent Ellzey. Could we speak to you in private?”

Lunde guided them to an empty corner of the room. “What happened?”

“Ellzey baited me into a fight. We exchanged a few blows and then he pulled a gun on me and fired.”

“He tried to shoot you?” Lunde said in disbelief.

“The gun was loaded with blanks. Alex disabled the weapon and then…”

“I used my abilities on him,” Alex finished.

Lunde’s eyes widened. “You attacked him directly? What happened to Agent Ellzey?”

“I threw him into a wall. I wasn’t even thinking when I did it. I thought he really shot Captain Shepherd. I felt a bit drained, but that was it. I didn’t get knocked out like last time. After he got up, Ellzey said he wanted me to attack him.”

“I see. We’ll… need to look into this,” Lunde said quickly. “But that has to wait. Right now, we’re having the devil’s own time with it in Kansas.”

“What’s the situation?” Shepherd said.

“Colonel Harrison’s assessment is correct: if the NEA’s main element arrives before we can reinforce, then we’ll have to retrograde, maybe all the way back to Topeka.”

“We’re ready to deploy. Doctor Reilly signed off on Alex’s recovery.”

Lunde nodded. “Good. An Osprey will be waiting for you at the airfield. Departure time is 2100.”

“You’re sending more than just us, right?” Alex said with sudden apprehension. One of the screens shifted to an aerial view of a six-lane highway. Tanks and troops transports lumbered west along both lanes of traffic. The Directorate’s propaganda had always portrayed the NEA as a force of irregular guerillas fighting with hit-and-run tactics. However, this was a full-scale, no-holds-barred invasion.

“All of our forces in the east are tied up,” Lunde said. “One of General Park’s combined arms battalions is coming from the west with additional forces a few hours behind them, but they might not make it to Kansas on time.”

“So what are we supposed to do?” Alex said. “You’re only sending the ten of us over there to help fight off that entire force?”

“I won’t lie to you, Alexandra. We’ll be relying on you to help us hold Kansas City. If the NEA continues on I-70, they could be at Colorado Springs in days.”

“B-But I don’t even…” For weeks, she had longed for the chance to fight. But to suddenly have the fate of the Directorate dropped on her shoulders? “What am I supposed to do?”

“We’re going to place you at a vantage point where you’ll have a full view of downtown. Right now, we’re planning to use One Kansas City Place. It’s the tallest building in the city. Our units will do their best to funnel the NEA toward your position. We need you to disable as much of their armor as you can. If we block their initial attack, we can buy ourselves enough time for General Park’s forces to arrive.”

Shepherd put his hand on Alex’s shoulder. “In New York, you practically brought the whole city down on the NEA! This will be a cake-walk compared to that.”

She glanced back. Shepherd was grinning his white toothy smile, all confidence and no doubt. In spite of herself, she felt reassured.

“Is that everything, sir?” Shepherd said.

“We’ll transmit further information once you’re in the air.”

“Understood. The team will be at the airfield by 2000.”

“I’ll do my best to see you off. Good luck.”

“Yes, sir.”

Shepherd turned toward the exit. Alex started to follow him and then paused and glanced back at Lunde. “I won’t let you down, Gene.”

Lunde smiled. “I know.”

As Alex and Shepherd left the command center, Sergeant Paul waved and sang, “Got to Kansas City on a Frid'y, by Sattidy I learned a thing or two, 'coz up to then I didn't have an idy, of what the modern world was comin' to!”

Before the doors shut behind them, she heard Paul explaining to General Lunde: “Just trying to keep up morale!”

Alex felt a combination of exhilaration and fear as soon as they were outside in the corridor. She wanted to strike a blow against the New England Alliance that would send them reeling back to the East Coast. Part of that desire stemmed from Webb’s shooting of her father, but she was also angry the Alliance’s actions had led to war. She thought about the airfield and the soldiers unloading stacks of caskets from the overflowing bellies of cargo planes. She knew the Directorate would win, but the price for that victory was marked by those draped flags and twenty-one gun salutes. So much death.

“Captain Shepherd?” she said as they arrived at the entrance lobby. “Are you scared?”

Shepherd stopped at the door. “We’re going to be fine.”

She frowned. “I know I keep saying I want to make the NEA sorry for what they did to my dad. It’s just… you told me a while back this would be a hundred times worse than New York. I’m trying not to be scared – I know you and everyone on the team will be there with me – but I can’t help it. You understand, right?”

“We can do this. I won’t let you get hurt.”

“I’m not worried about myself. I’m worried about… about you. And everyone else on the team. What if someone gets hurt? What if…”

“No one is going to get hurt.”

“You’re sure?”

“We’ll be on top of a skyscraper where no one will even see us. I doubt we’ll fire a shot.”

She could hear the disappointment in Shepherd’s voice. Does he want to be down in the streets fighting them head-on? To get back at them for New York? For Hensley and Neill?

“Just promise me you’ll be careful, okay?”

Shepherd gave her a wide smile. “As long as you promise not to become a POW again. Deal?”

She grinned. “How long until we need to be at the airfield?”

Shepherd checked his watch. “Four hours. I’ll call and give Sergeant Murray and Wilson the warning order once we’re back at the lodge. Get everything you need and then we'll head over to Carson, draw our equipment, and knock out a few rehearsals until we need to head back here.”

Shepherd’s mind was already at work, planning for the mission and preparing to lead the team into combat. Already, there was a change in his demeanor. He was somehow more solid and confident, just as he had been in New York. She remembered the feeling of his warm palm on her cheek. She wanted to feel it again, to take his hand and put it against her face, her neck, and the rest of her body.

Focus, girl, she thought as she felt herself beginning to blush. This isn’t the time. Everyone’s counting on you.

“Are you ready?” Shepherd said.

“Let’s go.”