Dedication

I would like to dedicate this novel to Michael Jett, a fellow author and ex-military man, who provided much insight on true military life while I was writing this book. Since then, tragedy struck, and Michael's plight strangely paralleled that of my hero. It’s a miracle that he survived, and I send him my warmest thoughts and best wishes toward a full recovery. Michael Jett is the award-winning author of Secret Games, a 2002 military espionage thriller, from Gardenia Press.

Eight hundred year ago,

The Great Ones descended from the sky,

And their vessels hovered above the desert floor,

Like flocks of hummingbirds as big as houses.

They selected the best Anasazi warriors

To take them to their home in the stars,

Raining death and destruction

On the rest of the tribe.

But among the stars of the Pleiades,

The proud warriors found only slavery.

No more Anasazi but part man, part machine,

They became the Anaz-voohri,

The fiercest fighters in the known galaxies

When they finally spilled the blood of their captors,

The Anaz-voohri went in search of a home,

A safe harbor to grow in numbers and in might,

Before embarking on their conquest of the universe.

Remembering the legends told by the shamans,

They turned to the planet of their ancestors,

A mythical blue orb called Earth
Chapter One

Los Angeles - July 2003

Zack woke up with a start, unable to see anything. Anything at all. Had the power gone out? A subtle vibration permeated the house. Earthquake? No. Earthquakes didn’t make the walls sing.

Something was wrong. With no glow from the digital clock or from his computer screen, Zack tossed his blanket aside and felt his way to the window. He pulled up the black roman shade and lifted the glass pane. The sweet fragrance of roses from the front yard filled the room. As he craned his neck outside, the second story view revealed a full moon but no street lights in the whole residential area of Granada Hills. Had all of Los Angeles blacked out?

Outside, the strong vibration shook the foliage of the eucalyptus trees. As far as Zack could see, the streets and houses looked dark and quiet. Too dark, too quiet, with no breeze, no birds, not even the chirp of a cricket.

Moonlight filtering into the room illuminated the life-size poster of Angelina Jolie in Tomb Raider. As the vibration intensified, something familiar tugged at Zack’s mind. Ashley? His baby sister screeched for help in his head! She was terrified.

Rushing out of the bedroom, Zack stumbled over his sneakers and stepped into the ink black hallway. The vibration shook the hardwood under his bare feet. The smell of burnt rubber or heated machinery assaulted his nostrils. How weird!

Feeling his way along the wall, Zack turned the corner and saw an outline of white radiance around Ashley’s door. He’d left it ajar last night.

Wearing only his boxers and tee-shirt, Zack shivered when a malevolent breeze coursed across his skin, as if to keep him away. Was he dreaming? He bit his lip. It hurt, and the coppery taste of blood filled his mouth. Wide awake! His heart beat so hard, it threatened to explode.

Outside Ashley’s door, their Persian cat arched his back and hissed, spooked. His bristled tail rose straight up in the air, sparking with static electricity.

“What’s going on in there, Dude?” Zack whispered, his heart faltering. He swallowed with a dry throat, remembering the horror movies he used to enjoy watching. But this was no movie, and he couldn’t stand the thought of his baby sister in any danger.

Zack moved sluggishly, like through water with weights on his ankles. Had the air become dense? Had he landed in the middle of a strange videogame? Finally he pushed the door open. Blinded by bright light, Zack stood paralyzed. He tried to step inside, to no avail. His legs refused to move.

Unable to scream his frustration, he remained frozen in the doorway, immobilized by a strange force that controlled his body. As his eyes adjusted to the brightness, the unobstructed view of his sister’s room chilled his spine.

Bent over the bed, a tall creature of humanoid proportions hovered above the floor, wearing a long, shimmering cape that accentuated its square shoulders. Seven-year-old Ashley, her blue eyes wide with terror, blonde curls framing her tan face, clutched her favorite Barbie Doll, her mouth open in a silent wail.

Get away from my sister, you freak! No word came out of Zack’s mouth.

The creature turned to face Zack. Under the hood, the bald skull glowed from within, blue, pink and green, like a see-through phone. The face had large oval eyes, milky skin, elongated cheeks, and a straight thin mouth etched with grim determination.

Hang on, Ashley, I’m coming. When Zack attempted to rush the creature, his feet stuck to the floor. He tried to yell but his vocal cords remained mute. He wanted to break the freak’s skull, bloody the monster’s small nose, make it feel pain. What did this thing want with his baby sister?

The creature turned its attention to a small device it held in spidery fingers. The bright light shrunk to a wide oblique beam that angled out through the gaping window. Beyond it, an ominous shadow hung above the house. The vibration emanated from it. Zack couldn’t believe what he saw. A spacecraft?

Howling inside, but unable to intervene, Zack watched as the creature lifted his frightened sister from the bed. Ashley didn’t protest when the monster wrenched the Barbie doll from her grip and threw it back on the blanket. Then the monster stepped into the beam of light and floated out the window with its prize. The paralyzing hold ebbed. Zack staggered into the room toward the window. He wanted to call for help but his throat still refused to make any sound.

As Zack stepped after them into the beam of light, the creature had almost reached the waiting craft. The alien pointed a small device at Zack. The shot sizzled and shook him like an electroshock. Zack’s legs buckled from the pain. He hit the plush pink rug and darkness engulfed him.

* * * * *

Somewhere above the Pacific Ocean

As her spaceship flew over the dark ocean, Captain Kavak, Exalted Leader of the Anaz-voohri fleet, cursed the intervention of Ashley’s brother. Surprised by his persistence and distracted by the child in her arms, Kavak hadn’t checked the setting on her weapon before firing. She hoped the charge had killed the young man. Well, even if it didn’t, it would definitely scramble the memory of their encounter.

Kavak didn’t like sloppy work. She didn’t tolerate it from her underlings and didn’t want it known that she may have slipped. This particular mission required stealth, not slaughter, and she should have avoided detection, not to mention confrontation. But the truth be told, Kavak lusted for bloodshed as much as the next Anaz-voohri warrior, if not more.

Through the clear hull of the piloting deck, an island chain appeared, like a line of ducklings floating on the dark waters below. Humans called these islands Hawaii. Tonight, the sand beaches sparkled in the moonlight. On her screen, Kavak pinpointed a precise cove dotted with sparse houses. Previous scanning of the area had revealed that an exceptional child lived there, a little girl with great intelligence, a strong spirit, and even an auspicious name, Celene, after one of the Pleiades stars.

Human females, less intimidating than males in that society, would provide the perfect weapon for Kavak’s plan. She would use these little girls as effective tools to bring about the destruction of their own species. And they would destroy humanity without further endangering the precious planet of Kavak’s ancestors, already damaged by these careless fools.

Waving her hands over the panel in front of the pilot’s chair, Kavak linked her electronic brain to the ship’s controls and brought the vessel to hover above a white sand beach. She set the small ship on idle and rose from the chair. Time to go get her last girl, Celene.

As the captain of the Anaz-voohri fleet, Kavak didn’t have to participate in the harvesting of human girls, but she had a weak spot for this little blue planet and never missed an opportunity to study or visit Earth. She’d offered to collect two girls out of twelve. As she glided down the light beam, a dog barked in the distance. Kavak willed the silly animal to choke on its tongue. The barking strangled then stopped. She’d better not attract attention this time.

Glancing up at the night sky, Kavak admired the multitude of stars. She breathed in the salty ocean air and delighted in the sound of the surf on the shore. She would enjoy living on this beautiful planet. Maybe she would raise a batch of little warriors, realizing the dearest dream of her declining race, or better yet, she’d run a military academy for the miracle generation that would bring new hope and glory to the Anaz-voohri nation.

Kavak approached the modest bungalow shadowed by palm fronds that trembled from the vibration of the ship hovering nearby. How serene, how peaceful... An assortment of shoes sat by the side of the door, but Kavak following her instinct, circled the house toward a sealed window pane topped with two rows of open louvers. She couldn’t see through the drawn curtains, but she could sense the chosen girl sleeping inside, breathing, stirring.

Humans thought themselves safe inside closed rooms. How naive of them. The weapon at Kavak’s belt flew into her hand. Adjusting the setting, she linked her mind to the weapon, focused on the glass and fired. With a soft whooshing sound, the window vaporized into a cloud of glittery dust, sending the curtains billowing.

After brushing the residue off her shoulders, Kavak pushed aside the curtains as she rose and floated inside the room, approaching the small bed. Sleeping peacefully with no sheets or blankets, Celene sucked her thumb. Unlike Kavak, the child had two perfectly formed hands. How unfair. The girl looked about six, wearing red shorts and t-shirt. A sweet, subtle flower scent emanated from her tan skin and long auburn curls. What was it about the human fascination with hair?

A large white cat on the child’s bed hissed and meowed aggressively at the intruder. Not one of those again! The pesky beasts seemed immune to mind control. The feline swatted at Kavak, all claws and fangs, scratching her skin veneer, then it scampered away. Too late. The stupid animal had disturbed the sleeper.

Kavak had no other choice than to neutralize the waking child. She switched the controlling device from her deformed four-fingered hand to her thumbed hand. When she pushed a pictograph on it, a high-pitched whine, an ultrasound meant to incapacitate humans, filled the room. Green eyes wide with terror, little Celene opened her mouth as if to scream, but no sound came out. A tear rolled down her face as the child lay helpless on the bed. Kavak snatched Celene, slung her over her shoulder then levitated out the gaping window. Carrying the child back to the ship, she ascended along the shaft of light.

Once inside the ship, Kavak deposited the neutralized Celene on a long couch next to little Ashley, who lay motionless. When Kavak pushed a dial on her handheld instrument, both girls closed their eyes. She’d induced deep sleep.

This completed Kavak’s collection. She returned to the piloting seat. A good harvest, according to the commander in charge of gathering the other girls. Linking her mind to the ship’s controls, she passed her hand across the console and welcomed the familiar vibration as the ship soared toward the stratosphere.

Once in high orbit, Kavak rendezvoused with the two other collecting ships. Together they flew toward the huge science vessel hidden from Earth on the dark side of the moon. After docking, Kavak picked up both girls, slung one over each shoulder, then hovered through hatches and corridors into the nursery prepared for them on the science vessel.

The scientist in charge had insisted that they decorate the dome with painted-desert colors, to make their charges feel more at home. And what could be more auspicious than depictions of Kokopelli, the flute player, a motif already familiar to many humans?

“Where are the other girls?” Kavak asked a medical attendant.

The female medic in a white gown saluted. “They are docking now, Exalted Leader. I’ll help bring them in.”

The medic rushed out of the nursery. Within minutes, each of the twelve beds had an occupant. The human girls ranged from two to nine in age. At the head of each bed, engraved nameplates labeled the occupants.

Collecting charges made Kavak thirsty. She willed a cabinet door to open and linked her brain to the dispenser inside. “Martini, make that three,” she uttered, “after all, it’s a celebration.” She could hardly wait for the heavenly drink.

The machine poured a clear liquid into three conical glasses and dropped two olives in each of them. The ritual warmed Kavak in anticipation. She took one glass, sipped the drink, then sighed. “Delicious.”

A replica of the earthly martini to be sure, but still quite good, it made her throat tingle. Like most Anaz-voohri, Kavak had a weakness for liquor, the only worthwhile products humans had ever engineered. When she controlled Earth, she would drink only the real thing.

Glass in hand, Kavak glided toward the chief scientist already examining the oldest girl, a tall pale child with long blond hair. The plaque on the bed read Tierney. Kavak nodded toward the girl. “This one looks much older than the others. Will that be a problem?”

“On the contrary, Exalted Leader. She is exceptionally strong, healthy and willful for a human.” The scientist beamed, no doubt flattered by the special attention from his leader. “She will serve us well.”

Kavak only hoped the scientist could deliver. “Are they strong enough to survive the procedure?”

“Difficult to determine at this point, Exalted Leader.” The scientist made a disgusted face. “Humans are such weaklings.” He smiled as if to reassure Kavak. “But I will do my very best to implant the new hardware and reprogram their DNA as smoothly as possible.”

“I am counting on you. The future of our people is at stake.” Kavak dared to hope. It would take twenty Earth years for this project to mature, but for Kavak and her race, time passed differently. They didn’t age and enjoyed healthy lives that lasted many centuries. The human girls, however, did not, so they had to hurry.

Kavak’s first Commander, who had collected most of the girls for the experiment, entered the room. Kavak willed the tray holding the two extra martinis to levitate toward the Commander, who smiled at the rare gesture and took one glass. Kavak directed the tray toward the surprised scientist, who accepted the drink with excessive gratitude. Kavak didn’t trust scientists, never had. Then the tray levitated back inside the cabinet.

“You did well, Commander.” Kavak turned to the scientist. “Make sure your work goes without incident.” She raised her glass in the human traditional toast, inviting them to do the same, and declared solemnly, “To the end of humanity.”

“To the end of humanity!” the other two hailed with enthusiasm.

* * * * *

Zack opened his eyes, prompted by the loud purr of Dude, who kneaded his chest and licked his face with a scratchy tongue. Green, round eyes blinked at him, and Dude meowed softly.

Zack tried to get up from Ashley's pink, shaggy carpet and regretted his sudden move. His head pounded like an anvil under a sledge hammer. He shivered despite the morning sun coming in through the open window and the slight motion made his whole body ache. When he glanced at the empty bed with the Barbie doll askew on the blanket, the horror of the night rushed back to him. Ashley!

Zack struggled to his feet and inspected the gaping window. The glass was gone! How could this happen? Why had the freaking alien taken Ashley?

Stumbling to the bathroom, Zack splashed water on his face and grimaced in the mirror. His aqua-blue eyes looked almost gray today. Not a good sign. He finger-raked his rebellious chestnut hair away from his high forehead, then snatched a pair of jeans from the floor. He shook as he slipped them on, and then staggered into the hallway. He had to hold on to the railing to make it down the stairs.

He resisted the temptation to call for Ashley. No one would answer, Ashley was gone... What should he do? His stepfather would kill him when he learned Ashley had been kidnapped while he babysat.

Zack crossed the living-room gingerly, picked up the phone and dialed nine-one-one. Not that the police could help much, but he had to do something, notify the authorities. As the phone rang on the other end, he wondered what he would tell them. That an alien creature had abducted his sister in the middle of the night? Who’d believe it?

“Nine-one-one operator, what is the emergency?”

Zack took a deep breath. “My baby sister is missing.”

“How old is she?” The friendly female voice sounded genuinely concerned.

“She’s seven, her name is Ashley.”

“Taken from her bed at night?”

“Yeah, how’d you know?”

“Another missing girl!” he overheard the operator calling to someone else at the dispatch center. “What’s your address, sir?”

“What do you mean? There are others?” Zack’s knees weakened and he dropped to the couch. This was huge. He felt it.

“It’s all over the news, sir. Several girls were reported missing from their bed this morning. The reports keep coming.”

Cradling the phone with his shoulder, Zack snatched the remote and turned on CNN.

On the screen, a female reporter in a raincoat stood before a two-story gabled house with harvested fields in the background. “We are speaking with Rich Porter, father of a missing two-year-old, here at the family farm.” The reporter sounded almost casual. “Tell us how you first discovered your child had been kidnapped?”

“My wife heard some noise in the middle of the night and went up to check on Maya...” The young man tried valiantly to control his facial muscles, but his voice broke. “The bed was empty, the window wide open. Anybody could have come in. As soon as my wife told me, I ran outside. I didn’t see anybody, but there was some kind of humming, like a gigantic bumblebee. Then I saw a one of those things, like a flying saucer. It took off that way.” He pointed toward the sky then his face contorted. He buried his head in his hands and sobbed.

The world was going mad. Alien abductions on CNN? Had other people witnessed the monster? It seemed unreal.

The camera focused on the reporter’s face. The woman looked embarrassed at the unexpected live testimony. “This man is obviously distraught and there is nothing to confirm his allegations and no reason to believe them. The flying machine was probably a helicopter if anything. The department of Homeland Security has not raised the alert level. However, nine children, all girls, have been kidnapped in the same strange circumstances, a seemingly synchronized operation spanning five states. The authorities are expecting more victims.”

Zack remained in shock. Nine girls? With Ashley that was ten, and they expected more?

“...the FBI is leading an investigation and considers claims of alien intervention preposterous. They are not ruling out, however, the possibility of a sinister act of terrorism.”

Terrorists? What Zack had seen was no terrorist. It was a freaking monstrosity from another world who calmly snatched Ashley from her bed. Anger welled in Zack’s chest. He wished he’d had a gun. He would have shot the bastard instead of the other way around.

But the awful thought of his baby sister among such monsters angered him the most. What would they do to her? Dissect her alive, like a frog in a science lab? He didn’t want to think about that. What could these aliens possibly want with human children?

Zack remembered holding Ashley’s hand on her first steps, helping her open her Christmas presents, teaching her to read. They’d played Pokemon videogames on his X-box. He’s sung Britney Spears songs, just to please her, and she’d crack him up every time she tried to rap with him to Eminem. One night, Ashley caught him in his room, making out with a girl while their parents worked on another one of their news assignments, but she never ratted. A true sister.

Zack dreaded telling his parents, but he had to reach them somehow. Slowly, he picked up the phone again and dialed the Hollywood studio. The production assistant answered. As Zack feared, his mom and stepfather couldn’t be reached at the moment.

“Tell them it’s an emergency,” Zack said with all the authority he could muster. “They have to take the first plane home, come back immediately.”

“I’ll have them contact you,” was all the assistant said.

On the screen, no more reports of alien sightings, but the frightening count kept increasing. By now eleven little girls had disappeared from their bed in the middle of the night in the continental US, and Ashley was one of them.

When the doorbell rang, Zack saw no LAPD cop, but four men in black suits, white shirts and sunglasses. They flashed FBI badges and three of them rudely pushed their way inside the house, taking pictures.

The fourth agent, who seemed to be in charge, introduced himself as Tolek Michalski. He invited Zack to take a seat on the living room couch. He set a small recorder on the coffee table, opened his jacket and eased himself into an armchair. “For the record, state your name, age, occupation.”

“My name is Zack Duncan. I’m eighteen, working on a Masters at Berkeley and baby-sitting for my parents during summer break.”

The agent frowned. “A Masters at your age?”

Zack half-smiled at the man’s surprise. He was used to such reaction. “Investigative journalism. Love the stuff.”

The agent shook his head. “Where are your parents?”

“On a news assignment in Guatemala.”

“Reporters? Have they been told?”

“Not yet.”

“Tell me what you know.”

Zack steeled himself for the emotional assault of the difficult memories, but he wasn’t going to wimp out. “Some alien creature took her. I saw it all happen,” he declared boldly, then described the scene to the best of his recollection.

Listening, the agent seemed absorbed in the task of cleaning his sunglasses with a white handkerchief. “Was the perpetrator male or female?”

“I couldn’t tell for sure. It was freaking tall with a shimmering cape and floating in a beam of light.”

The agent didn’t flinch. “Could you describe him or her?”

Zack tried to remember all the details. “Tall, no hair, pale, almost translucent skin, some kind of electronics showing through the skull with blinking lights inside. One hand had only four fingers. Very long fingers...”

“Any weapon?”

“Some kind of zapper. He did zap me, and I passed out. Boy, it hurt.”

“Can you describe that zapper?”

“About the size of a cell phone. It shot like a strike of lightning, but no thunder, just a sizzle... Felt like an electric shock. Took me out cold. I woke up this morning on the floor with a mega-headache.”

“Anything more?”

“Yes.” Zack realized he’d registered many details in his mind. “Some kind of vibration throughout the house, and the power was out in the whole neighborhood.”

“What else?”

“That’s all I can remember.”

Michalski turned off the recorder and slipped it into the pocket of his black jacket. “You are very shaken by the event. Obviously what you think you saw never happened.” He flashed a fake smile. “You watch too much television. You need some rest and maybe some medications for your overactive mind.”

Zack couldn’t stand the attitude. Why didn’t they believe him? “I don’t need drugs, and I didn’t make it up. It was real.”

The man in black offered a condescending smile. “It’s amazing what the mind can cook up to avoid facing a frightening truth.” The FBI agent motioned to one of his men to recall the others then faced Zack. “We believe it is a covert terrorist attack. Be assured that we are doing everything in our power to bring those responsible to justice.” He stood up then asked, “Do you have a picture of your sister? Something recent.”

Zack went to the shelf and pulled out photo albums. He had to brace himself against the smiling face of his baby sister. He selected a photograph taken on her last birthday just a few weeks ago and handed it to the FBI agent. “How are you going to rescue Ashley?” Zack doubted they could do anything at all but had to ask. “What can you possibly do if you don’t even believe me when I tell the truth?”

Agent Michalski pocketed the picture then closed his jacket slowly, as if giving himself time to think. “At this point, we are still investigating. We’ll let you know.” He signaled the other agents, now standing around the living room, to follow him out.

Furious at being dismissed, Zack yelled at their retreating backs. “I know what I saw!”

Agent Michalski turned about, his face hard, eyes glinting like steel. “You didn’t see anything, young man.” His voice carried an unveiled threat. “You understand me?” He slipped on his shades but Zack could still feel his stare. “And not a word of your absurd story to the press, not even to your parents, understood?”

The truth suddenly flashed in Zack’s mind. The FBI believed him all right. They knew he’d told the truth. They had taken his testimony and would study it, but publicly they would deny everything, like in those conspiracy theories he’d come across on the Web.

Zack realized he’d better not argue, or harm might come to him and to what was left of his family. The FBI had the power to silence anyone, if it threatened a government cover-up. Uttering a deep sigh, Zack let his shoulders drop. “Yeah, whatever.”

As soon as the FBI left, Zack ran up to his room and rebooted his computer. Fortunately, before falling asleep, he’d saved the documents written for his Masters in Investigative Journalism at Berkeley. Nothing damaged.

First, Zack retrieved his email. The web buzzed with testimonies of UFO sightings. His friends at The Daily Californian, the students’ newspaper for which Zack provided articles, sent him links on the topic. Dedicated Yahoo groups started on the subject, and Zack joined them all, adding his own statement to the slew of reports. Maybe the Web would provide the right tool to start looking for answers.

Perched above the monitor on a bookshelf, Dude encouraged him with loud purring and swept the screen with his bushy tail for good measure.

Zack scratched the cat’s big black head. “Thanks for your support, Dude. At least I know you believe me. You were there.”

Time to revamp the website Zack had sorely neglected in the past months. He pulled out a portrait of his sister from her seventh birthday album and gazed at it. Wiping his eyes, he reluctantly set the photograph on the scanner. Then he posted the picture on his homepage with the legend:

Have you seen me? My name is Ashley. I was abducted from my LA home by an alien creature on the night of July fourth, 2003. If you have any information at all that could help find me, contact my brother Zack.

No FBI clown in a black suit would prevent Zack from getting to the bottom of this mystery. Zack owed it to Ashley to help her, and he would stop at nothing. “Ashley, if you can hear me, girl, tell me where you are,” he prayed, while his feverish fingers flew over the keyboard.

Zack had not finished uttering the words when a clear image formed in his mind.

The place looked strange as he stared at a purple domed ceiling with designs that looked vaguely familiar, like stylized figures he’d seen on Native American jewelry or maybe on some pottery at the mall. He had the sensation of lying on a flat surface that felt like warm skin.

When the vision dissolved, Zack realized he’d just communicated with Ashley. He’d been in her body for a brief instant. Had he really seen the place where the monster kept her? Was she lying on that skin-like surface? Ashley must have read his thoughts as she often did. Still reeling from the psychic experience, Zack realized Ashley was letting him know she was alive. She’d called him for help.

“Thanks, little sister,” he whispered. “Don’t worry, I’ll help you.” He grabbed the cat and swung him up into the air. “Dude! She’s alive!”

Now he must find out where the monster had taken her. Full of hope, Zack ran down the stairs, snatched his mother’s car keys from the dish on the table by the sofa and ran for the door. Zack’s first stop would be the Native American shop at the mall. He could probably find out what this stylized figure playing a flute represented.

Chapter Two

West Point Military Academy 2004

Tia easily climbed the seven-foot wall and paused at the top to observe her target through the night goggles. The downpour obscured everything, but the poor visibility also worked to her advantage. She dropped on the other side, landing in the mud with a soft thud and readjusted the net on her camouflage helmet.

Lightning illuminated the isolated cabin on the hillock. It stood in a clearing and didn’t seem heavily guarded. According to Tia’s calculations, the prisoner she needed to liberate would be inside. Ignoring the cold rain and the fatigue of a twelve-klick trek through the rocky forest, she flattened herself in the muck and reapplied mud to her face. At night, even her tan skin would reflect light.

She crawled between rocks and bushes, pretending a barbwire net was stretched overhead, like in ITT training. In this weather, even a sharpshooter with a telescope couldn’t see her in camouflage gear. She moved smoothly despite the helmet and the armored vest. Tia valued protection, exercise or not, and victory demanded she stay alive.

Unwilling to slow down for anyone, Tia had left the other cadets far behind. Always ahead of her class, she had to be first. Never mind the fact that she was a woman or that she’d added ten pounds to her pack as a personal challenge. She intended to win this law of the land warfare exercise. The enemy brigade didn’t stand a chance.

Lightning flared and Tia counted the seconds until thunder. The storm was getting closer. With all the metal on her body, she hoped it wouldn’t strike overhead.

Tia stopped crawling to survey the only tree in the clearing, a tall pine with enough low branches to climb. As she suspected, it concealed a guard, but he hadn’t seen her. Very still, she aimed her C-7 rifle and waited for the next lightning bolt. After waiting three more seconds, she fired. The crack of thunder covered the shot and the sentinel fell. Gotcha! Even rubber bullets at fifty feet could leave mean bruises and that fall had to hurt. This cadet would hide better next time.

Slithering toward the tree, Tia glanced at the fallen cadet. He looked miserable, but seemed all right. “Sorry, amigo. Nothing personal,” she whispered. Reaching for the lowest branch, she climbed up the wide trunk and found a hidden perch. From there, she observed the cabin through her night binoculars. The wide open space around it looked like it had been cleared. Her instincts made her think of a mine field. It made sense. She would have done the same if working for the other team.

She sighted another sentinel posted on the roof. She aimed and waited for lightning, then fired with the thunder. Perfect shot. Two down. She wondered how many guarded the cabin.

She looked for more sentinels but saw none. She should probably wait for the rest of her team before launching an assault, but in these perfect conditions, Tia decided stealth would serve the mission better. The enemy wouldn’t see her coming.

Climbing down the blind side of the tree, she dropped to the ground. Mine detector in one hand and rifle in the other, she crawled through the cold sludge, advancing toward the dark cabin. Was it equipped with night cameras? The rain intensified. Given this deluge, it didn’t matter much. Even a keen observer would miss her progress.

Something flickered at the edge of her field of vision to the right. With natural ease and speed, Tia aimed, waited for the lightning, counted, then shot again. The soldier fell. She wondered how many cadets waited for her inside, or had they posted experienced soldiers? Tia didn’t mind a challenge. She needed to make her training as rigorous as possible.

When the mine detector vibrated, she stopped, glanced at the instrument, then moved to the left around the bleep. The fake mines wouldn’t explode, just trigger an alarm. Still, to Tia, it was more than simple training.

In order to survive the challenges to come, she had to be better than the very best. She needed to train herself to survive at all cost, in any conditions. Tia intended to volunteer for the middle-east as soon as she graduated from West Point, and she wanted to be ready to kick terrorist ass.

She unhooked a tear gas bomb from her belt, pulled out the safety and calculated the distance, so the canister would break the window and not bounce off. She aimed and threw. Perfect pitch. She followed with three more gas bombs.

Soldiers rushed out of the cabin, coughing, blind, and disoriented. Tia shot them one by one, then stood and negotiated her path between the mines toward her target. It was all over.

* * * * *

After a sleepless night, an 0500 barrack inspection, an 0600 call and a morning run, Tia faced her superior officer.

The man’s face remained unreadable. “The CO wants to see you in his office, Cadet, on the double.”

“Yes, Major.” Tia saluted and smiled. Did the CO want to compliment her on last night’s exercise? She’d rescued her prisoner and brought him out by the scruff of the neck, completing the mission single-handedly against all odds. The other cadets arrived on the scene too late. But, of course, when it came to physical endurance or even intellectual challenges, Tia always won.

The major frowned. “The General didn’t sound very happy.”

Damn! The old grump was never happy, no matter how well she performed. Tia saluted, then crossed the courtyard and hurried on the road along the Hudson toward HQ. She closed her gray-blue coat against the cold. Yesterday’s rain had turned to wet snow. The old man could be unpredictable, and although he was a friend of her father’s, Tia didn’t pretend to understand him at all.

In the midst of such natural beauty, with the river to the left and the forested hills to the right, some cadets found it difficult to concentrate on their studies. Not Tia. She excelled at everything, except maybe relationships. Why didn’t men flock to her Latina charm? She sighed. The male cadets found her unapproachable. What a bunch of wimps.

Despite her undeniable skills and intelligence, the complicated nuances of human relationships escaped Tia’s grasp. Her prowess made the men in her life uncomfortable, her father and uncles, not to mention romantic interests. It would take a very secure man to date an Amazon like her.

When she reached the HQ building, Tia stomped her feet on the mat and shook the snow off her coat before entering. The General liked his cadets impeccable at all times. She smoothed her long black hair under her cap and checked her reflection in the door’s window pane. Despite her lack of sleep and the thick uniform, she looked as good as Jennifer Lopez.

At the end of the hallway, Tia removed her coat, straightened her white shirt and black trousers and saluted the General’s assistant. The officer took Tia’s name and went to announce her. She came back a few seconds later. “He’s expecting you, Cadet.”

Upon entering the General’s office, Tia saluted. “Cadet Vargas reporting, sir.”

“Ah, Cadet Vargas.” The General, tall, thin and wiry in his pressed blue uniform, pronounced her last name like a gringo despite the fact that he knew better. “As you were.”

Tia relaxed her stance and tucked her hands behind her back. Did the General resent her Latino heritage? Although born in the United States, Tia had spent her childhood in Venezuela and felt proud of her ancestry. Her other country had a long tradition of warrior women, Guerrillas and revolutionaries, who had contributed to the liberation of the people, from Bolivar to President Chavez.

The General cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his shaven scalp, as if embarrassed by her direct stare. Tia had that effect on people sometimes. Intimidating even to a General… No wonder she couldn’t make friends. But she had to hide her softer side. A soldier could only be strong.

The old man opened a drawer and took out a manila envelope. From it he pulled out a set of eight by ten glossy prints and spread them out on his desk facing Tia. “Take a look and tell me what the hell I’m looking at.”

Tia approached the desk and recognized herself. On the snapshots she wore a red beret and scarf, and the banner behind her read, Chavez won’t go! How did the old man get his hands on those?

The General drummed his fingers on the desk. “Cadet? I’m waiting for an explanation.”

Straightening her back, Tia looked him straight in the eyes. “This was a protest last summer in front of the Venezuelan Embassy in Washington, DC, sir.”

“And what are you doing among the demonstrators?”

“Permission to speak freely, sir.”

The General waved his assent. “Go ahead, Cadet. Something tells me you will anyway.”

“It was for a good cause, sir. The re-election of President Chavez, sir.”

“Are you aware that the US Government disapproves of President Chavez?” The General cleared his throat. “Some say that the CIA may have orchestrated the missed coup against him.”

“That’s only a rumor, sir.”

“Still, how could you, a cadet of West Point, participate in a public demonstration to support that rogue president?”

“President Chavez was legitimately elected by the people, sir. He is good for Venezuela, sir. He stands for the little people and gives them hope, sir.”

“I don’t give a fuck what President Chavez did for the little people of Venezuela. You are an American soldier, Cadet. Do you remember the oath you made on the parade grounds on your first day here?

“Yes, sir.” Shocked, Tia repeated the part of the oath he referred to. “I will maintain the sovereignty of the United States, paramount to any and all allegiance, sovereignty, or fealty I may owe to any state or country whatsoever.”

The General’s eyes narrowed. “And you dare dishonor this prestigious institution by demonstrating support for its enemies?”

The old man still didn’t get it. “With all due respect, sir, President Chavez is not our enemy, sir. And as far as I can tell, democracy is the highest American ideal, sir.”

“Stop being a smart ass, Vargas.” The General shook his head. “You are too bright for your own good. What am I going to do with you?”

Was he really asking her? “Assign me to special forces in the Middle East, sir.”

“I know what you want, Cadet, but you better control that eagerness of yours. Getting you killed will not bring back your brother.”

The thought of her brother Felipe, fallen to Al-Qaeda in the Nine-Eleven Trade Center attack, constricted her throat, but Tia swallowed her grief and bit her lips.

“Your father would never forgive me if I sent you to the battlefield, Cadet. He already lost a son...”

Battling tears, Tia wouldn’t accept his argument. ”I still wish to apply after I graduate, sir.”

“Do not make me pull strings, Cadet. I can recommend you for an elite unit. Someone of your exceptional abilities is certainly a first choice for a new and very special branch.”

“What branch of the military is that, sir?”

“It’s top secret.” The General paused and went to the window, gazing outside. “I’m not at liberty to tell you anything, except that you will have the state of the art weaponry and experimental technology at your disposal to fight against the worst of evil.”

The worst of all evil had to be terrorist scum. Tia couldn’t refuse such an opportunity to get back at them. “Tell me more, sir.”

“It will require a lengthy specialized training, but you are only twenty years old, Cadet. First Airborne, then Army Rangers in Fort Clayton in Panama, followed by Special Forces at Fort Bragg, and Delta Force exercises.”

Even if it required more training, Tia wanted to become the absolute soldier, invincible, with the best weapons and tactical knowledge. “I accept your recommendation, sir.”

“Duly noted, Cadet.” The General nodded. “Dismissed.”

Tia saluted, and as she left the General’s office, she smiled. After she completed that special training, she would make Al-Qaeda pay dearly for her brother’s death.

Chapter Three

Anaz-voohri Fleet - Pleiades System

In her shimmering gown, Kavak reclined in her chair beneath the large dome of her private quarters. She couldn’t stand permanent watch on the science vessel. Unknown to the medical staff, however, she kept a constant scrutiny on the operating room from her personal view screen.

On the viewer, the surgeons in white robes and clear face masks measured and marked the head of one of the girls in preparation for surgery. The children, asleep or unconscious, lay on operating tables, arranged like the spokes of a wheel, feet toward the center, heads on the periphery, completely shaved. Kavak could hear the medics’ quiet conversations, the electronic chimes of the monitors and the whiz of the laser cutter.

The DNA modifications and brain inserts on the abducted girls were taking much longer than Kavak anticipated. The special abilities they needed to perform their future tasks required surgical implantation of miniaturized electronic devices. The medical staff kept complaining about the humans’ lack of resiliency. If they botched this batch, it would take time to find more subjects of this caliber. Besides, after the uproar of humanity following the abductions, it might become difficult to repeat an operation of this magnitude unimpeded.

On the screen, the surgeons delicately cut and removed the top part of the cranial bone, unveiling the girl’s brain. What a primitive brain, what fragile biological circuitry!

Kavak felt righteous spying on the medical staff. She’d never trusted scientists. She gazed at her hands, one of them lacking a thumb, a common defect among her people. Repeated cloning had weakened the Anaz-voohri gene pool, hence the frequent deformities. Kavak suspected the scientists often used that excuse to cover up for their mistakes and inadequacies.

Sipping a martini, Kavak turned away from the screen and swiveled her chair to gaze through the clear bulkhead at the multitude of ships constituting the Anaz-voohri fleet. When at rest in safe space, the three thousand vessels linked together to form a three-dimensional city. A shame that there were so few inhabitants. The Anaz-voohri had dwindled in numbers and dropped to a critical level, less than fifteen thousand, barely enough to operate the fleet, let alone build a new empire.

Not only had reproduction almost ceased due to cloning defects, but many warriors had died in the battles to win their freedom from their galactic masters. Now a free nation, the itinerant Anaz-voohri needed a base of operation to replenish their numbers and establish their own culture. Kavak had promised them the planet of their ancestors, and she would keep her word.

Kokopelli decorations adorned the domed ceiling, painted in soft purple and turquoise on the sand-colored metal skin of the ship. The frescoes evoked the legends of the ancient Anasazi. Who would be simple-minded enough to believe such stories and worship a hunched flute player as a fertility god?

The Anasazi ancestors might have been uneducated and gullible, but Kavak and her people had superior intelligence. The Anaz-voohri would make their own destiny through conquest. Kavak would take over Earth, not to fulfill the religious prophecy, although it helped gather the support of the religious cast, but because it offered the best logical habitat for the Anaz-voohri to thrive.

Kavak’s mind wandered to the glorious battles yet to come, when the Anaz-voohri would conquer the universe after replenishing their numbers. The surgeons’ conversation, however, intruded upon her reverie.

“Be careful with that nerve or the time trigger will shift,” said one.

“You are going too fast,” said another with alarm. “Watch out, we’re going to lose her!”

Kavak sat up in her chair at that last comment and stared at the view screen. The girl’s open brain pulsed wildly under the touch of minute instruments. The monitors next to the operating table flashed warning lights in a cacophony of beeps and muted sirens and chimes. Bunch of incompetent idiots!

“The heart stopped,” a surgeon exclaimed as the beeps flat-lined.

What had they done now? Pandemonium spread among the medical staff. The aids ran to and fro with supplies, one knocked down a pan of surgical tools. A surgeon stuck a long needle into the little girl’s heart in an attempt to restart it. But the girl’s body remained lifeless on the table.

The procedure failed? Kavak let out a cry of frustration. Scientists could be so unreliable.

The chief surgeon turned off the dead girl’s monitoring device, silencing the flat-line beep. “This subject was too weak.” He moved the surgical cart toward the next shaved head around the circle of spokes. “Let’s start on this one.”

An assistant pulled the edge of the sand-colored sheet over the dead girl’s face. “I’ll call the shaman.”

The shaman? Kavak wouldn’t tolerate religious mumbo-jumbo and certainly didn’t want it interfering with her most important project.

With a hiss of irritation, she set her martini on the floating tray and rose from the chair, then hovered out of her private quarters through the iris door that opened at her approach and closed after she had gone through. As she hurried along corridors with Anasazi markings on the bulkhead, Kavak wondered why she had to intervene, again. Couldn’t anyone do anything right without her supervision?

An attendant coming toward Kavak in the connecting passageway saluted as he walked by. Although all Anaz-voohri could hover and ascend on their own power, only the strongest could manage it for long periods of time. Hovering as often as possible asserted Kavak’s authority. She didn’t return the salute and hurried past the attendant without a glance. She hadn’t gained her command post through polite behavior but through ruthless aggression. Showing any kind of empathy would translate as weakness in the minds of her subordinates.

When she reached the vertical shaft, Kavak hovered inside then ascended to the level of the hatch communicating with the science vessel. Ducking into the hatch and through the passage between ships, Kavak hastened toward the surgical unit. The panels of the iris door opened as she neared it. She entered the sterile room, taking in the sight. The table on which the dead girl lay had been moved to the side.

An attendant hastened to give Kavak a clear mask and a white sterile robe, but she waved him away. “I’ll keep my distance from the operating tables.”

Unaware of the recent incident, the other girls slept. Their shaved heads bore precise markings in preparation for the delicate surgeries. Kavak could almost relate to them as worthy beings without all that ugly hair on their heads, but she knew better. Humans were a plague.

The surgeons on the outside of the circle focused on the shaved head of the next girl. They dialed delicate settings on the laser cutter, matching it to the markings on the skull.

Noticing Kavak, the chief surgeon looked up from the sensitive dials. “Continue the fine tuning,” he ordered his aides, then came to meet her, shoulders drooping as if in apology.

Kavak found his lack of backbone irritating. “Why did she die?” she asked bruskly.

“They are too weak, Exalted Leader. We must slow the process or they may all die and we’ll need new subjects.”

“Unacceptable. We have to do it with what we’ve got, and we have a specific time frame. Any delay in any part of the project could have disastrous repercussions.” Kavak hated to make concessions, but she had little choice in this case. “Slow only as much as absolutely necessary for their survival. This project already has a twenty year timeline for them, due to space-time shifts, and synchronized timing is critical to our success.”

At the sound of the concentric panels of the iris door, Kavak glanced over her shoulder to see the shaman enter, carrying his flute. The elaborate headdress of synthetic red and yellow feathers fluttered as he bowed to Kavak.

“The planet of our ancestors awaits,” the shaman uttered, in the greeting of the religious cast, then kissed the amulet pouch hanging from his neck. He hovered respectfully a few inches below Kavak’s level and glided to the table where the dead girl’s body lay under the sheet. Playing a mournful melody on the flute, the shaman lowered his feet to the floor and started dancing around the table.

The sound of the instrument frayed Kavak’s nervous circuits. “Cease this instant!”

The shaman stopped his dance and took the flute out of his mouth, gazing at Kavak, a confused expression on his face. “But, Exalter Leader, the girl’s spirit was scared when she died. She needs the sacred music to help her ascend.”

Out of patience, Kavak glided toward the shaman, her head looming menacingly a few inches over his. “Humans are substandard. They do not ascend! Why can’t you and your acolytes admit to the simple truth?” Kavak also suspected that no one ever ascended spiritually, even the best behaved Anaz-voohri. These religious lies only weakened her people.

The shaman swallowed audibly and his eyes rounded with outrage. “Are you implying that our Anasazi ancestors did not ascend because they were human? This is blasphemy, Exalted Leader! Beware, the gods will not grant you victory in battle if you ignore their teachings.”

“Watch your tongue, shaman! Such language could cost your life.”

The shaman rose to hover at Kavak’s level and stared into her eyes, an open challenge and an insult. His glare hardened, and he spoke stiff-jawed. “The ancestors can see your black heart, Exalted Leader. You are a traitor to your own race. We were human once, these people are our people.”

“Nonsense!” Kavak couldn’t tolerate such an affront, even from a religious leader, especially in front of the medical staff. The shaman had gone too far.

Crossing his fingers in a curse, the shaman rose even higher than Kavak. “May the gods curse your military campaign and ridicule your reputation!” He uncrossed his fingers and gloated.

The phase weapon hidden under the flap of Kavak’s gown flew to her hand. Without hesitation, she fired.

Under the lethal beam, the shaman writhed and dropped to the floor in a crumpled heap. A surprised expression froze his face, even in death.

A collective gasp told Kavak the medical staff had witnessed the confrontation. Good. She returned the weapon to its hidden pocket. “May his stupid sacrifice serve as an example to you all. No one questions my authority with impunity, not even a shaman. Now get back to work. We don’t have the luxury of time.”

The soft sound of a mournful flute filtered into the surgical dome and grew in intensity. Furious, Kavak turned toward the shaman. How could he still be alive? But the sight she beheld sent static up her brain circuits. It couldn’t be!

Although the shaman’s body lay crumpled on the floor, his likeness rose and hovered, playing the infernal flute as if to goad Kavak. The shaman’s ethereal body approached the table of the dead girl. As he touched the sheet, the child’s form floated out of her body, complete with hair and earthly clothes.

Kavak looked for any sign of trickery but saw none. Could this really happen? Was she hallucinating? No. The medical staff, too, stared at the two apparitions in awe.

The little girl smiled at the shaman. As he offered his hand, the child took it. The sound of the flute still permeated the air although the shaman’s spirit didn’t play anymore. Slowly, the two figures ascended to the top of the dome then disappeared through the ceiling.

The sound of the flute stopped, leaving an uneasy silence in the surgical dome.

“Cool!” said an enthusiastic voice, that of a human child.

Kavak turned about to face the source of the sound and saw one of the girls, Ashley, sitting up on her operating table. Fully conscious, she showed no fear, only wonderment at what she’d just witnessed.

“Why isn’t this child sedated?” Kavak seethed with barely restrained rage.

“She received the same dosage as the others,” the chief surgeon protested. “She must be more resilient.”

“I hope that’s good news. Take care of it.”

An attendant touched a few petroglyphs on the console at the head of the girl’s bed. Ashley’s eyes closed as she relaxed back onto the table.

Kavak turned to the chief surgeon. “Make sure this doesn’t happen again. We don’t want them to have any memories of their sojourn here.”

“Of course, Exalted Leader. There will be none.”

“One more thing.” Kavak paused and the surgeons and attendants stopped to stare at her. “Not a word of what happened here must get out of this room, understood?”

As the medical staff remained silent, Kavak glared at them one by one in a threatening manner. To leave no doubt as to what would happen if anyone blabbered, she added, “Whoever says one word about this won’t live long enough to regret it.”

“You can count on our silence, Exalted Leader,” the chief surgeon sniveled.

Kavak certainly hoped so and left the surgical dome without a backward glance. She dreaded the implications of this incident. If this were known, the concept of humans having souls could have momentous repercussions on how the Anaz-voohri people viewed her strategy. The leaders of the religious cast would use it as a pretext to reinforce their position and maybe even attempt a coup against Kavak. In these troubled days, Kavak couldn’t afford a mutiny.

On the way back to her quarters, she tried to comprehend the deeper ramifications of what she had witnessed, but she didn’t have the luxury of pondering spiritual values. Kavak had a job to do, and whether or not humans had a soul, whether anyone had a soul at all, didn’t matter in the end. For the survival of her race, Earth had to be purged. That’s all she needed to know.

Chapter Four

Berkeley Campus – spring 2005

Trying to empty his mind of the never-ending search for his sister, Zack straightened his Karate uniform as he entered the Berkeley Martial Arts Dojo. In the vast empty room, amber rays of sunset blazed on the light parquet through the cathedral windows. Several rows of chairs lined the central square. Zack had come early on purpose, to find peace and quiet before the big event. Tonight, in front of an audience, he would take his black belt test.

His bare feet made no sound to break the serenity of the place. He bowed to the front wall where heavy branches of silk cherry blossoms framed a vertical banner. In fluid calligraphy, the Japanese ideogram on the fabric spelled Kokoro, which meant heart, but also courage.

Too anxious to sit and meditate as he sometimes did before class, Zack struck the first pose of the first kata and focused on the ritual movements meant to imitate a succession of attacks and counterattacks. He controlled his breathing, aiming for perfect form, infusing strength into his arms and legs, maintaining balance, in absolute control of his mind and body. Only the sound of his breath and the purchase of his toes on the hard floor intruded on the silence.

As he checked his posture in the wall mirrors, Zack hardly recognized his reflection. Who was this warrior he had become? Fierce, determined, dangerous. Something in his aqua-blue eyes had taken a hard edge. In almost two years, Zack had gone from a normal teenager to an investigator, driven to solve the mystery of his sister’s abduction. In the process, he’d lost much of his former innocence and realized that despite his many supporters on the web, he was alone in his fight, like a warrior of old, facing new challenges each day. Zack knew he could rely on no one but himself.

Martial arts didn’t belong in his curriculum, but his sister’s abduction had changed Zack’s outlook on life. He realized how ethereal freedom, life, even health could be. He didn’t take anything for granted anymore. Zack had sworn he’d fight to keep and protect what he held dear. And for that he must become stronger mentally, physically and psychically. Somehow he knew the day would come when he would face the monster who took away his baby sister. When that time came, he wanted to be ready.

The familiar tug of his sister’s call in his mind broke his concentration. Zack stopped in mid movement. “Ashley?”

I’m scared, Zack. They know I’ve been talking to you since I’ve been here. They want to fix me. Please, Zack, come get me! I want to go home.

The tenuous connection severed before he could respond. Zack’s heart beat wildly. What could he do? How could he help? He imagined how the nine year-old would look now and blinked back tears of frustration. He let out a low growl. For the past two years, he’d communicated at length with Ashley every day. This contact was cut short? Why? She’d never sounded so scared. The thought that irreversible physical harm could come to her at the hands of these degenerate beings was too much to bear.

Heading back toward the shower rooms as students and spectators started to trickle into the dojo, Zack returned to his locker. Out of his pack he took a black spiral notebook and a pen, checked the wall clock then dated the entry with the precise time. His pen shook as he scribbled the short message Ashley had given him, as accurately as he could remember it. Although he doubted this one would help find her, it was the most desperate. Besides, if the aliens knew of their extended regular mind contacts, this might very well be the last.

Zack was writing a book about the abduction. All the details he’d learned from his daily psychic contacts with Ashley mattered. Over the years, he’d spent many hours linked to his sister’s mind, observing, studying the Anaz-voohri. He knew much about her captors, probably too much. If they suspected how much he knew, would they come after him, too? Zack secretly hoped they would show up soon. They were his only link to Ashley.

Zack’s best friend, Lobo, rushed into the locker room, out of breath, his long black hair falling like a curtain on each side of his coppery face. “Dude, the website crashed again!” Lobo dropped his pack on the wooden bench and braced his foot to remove his Nikes.

“You sure?” Zack couldn’t believe it would happen again so soon. “It’s nine times in six months!”

“I know. But this time, it’s really cool.” Stripped to his boxers, Lobo waved his fingers in a descending movement, like a hula girl imitating the rain. “Green and black rain runs all over the screen, like it’s dissolving the data. It’s awesome!”

”Crap.” Zack refrained from using the F-word. Not because of the dojo rule. He didn’t believe in rules anymore. But he’d learned in Martial Arts that using vile language demonstrated lack of self-control. “The Feds again?”

“Looks like it.” Lobo pulled his white uniform out of his locker and slipped on the pants. “We have all the firewalls money can't even buy, and this kind of virus is not your garden variety. It’s not just a prank, it’s amazing.” Lobo grabbed his white jacket. “Has to be the Feds.”

“Good thing we back up all our files.” Zack remembered the first time it happened. It had taken two weeks to repair the damage.

“No shit.” Lobo tied the brown belt around his slim hips. “Just when we almost reached a million hits, too. The counter will go back to zero again. Bummer.” He gathered his slick hair into a pony tail with a rubber band and winked. “Good luck on your black belt test, dude. First time I see someone try it after only two years. The master sure likes you a lot.”

“It’s just that I train hard.” Zack thought of skipping the test to go repair his website. What did he care about a black belt?

But this represented the perfect opportunity for Zack to test himself under pressure. Could he control his nerves and empty his mind to perform flawlessly, knowing his sister was in distress, the website crashed, and the Feds were after him again?

“I’ll rush home right after the test, care to join me?” Zack chuckled. “We could be up all night debugging this thing, eating Chinese takeout.”

“Sweet.” Lobo smiled then sighed. “We really sound like geeks.”

“Dude, we are geeks, the masters of virus attack recovery.” Zack laughed nervously. “We don’t have girlfriends, and we have a website about alien abductions. How geeky is that?” Zack regretted the no girlfriend part, but although he had opportunities, his all consuming mission didn’t allow for leisure time.

“What about your anthropology paper?” Planting his legs apart, Lobo crossed his arms on his chest like a chief of his tribe passing judgment. “Isn’t it due tomorrow?”

Zack thought about that. “First things first. Not everything is about nice initials after your name.”

Lobo shrugged. “You’re such an amazing student the teacher might give you the grade anyway.” Throwing his arms up in the air, he turned away. “Whatever, dude, it’s your life.”

Zack forced a smile. “Right.” There didn’t seem to be a career out there for him, except finding his sister. He slapped Lobo’s back. “Let’s go kick some butt.”

The two friends entered the dojo and mixed with the other students in the center of the room. The chairs had filled up and it became difficult to ignore the audience. The master’s assistant walked to the front and began to conduct stretching exercises while the dojo master conferred with two other eminent Japanese teachers invited to judge the test. After the warm up, the old masters took their seats in the first row alongside the delineated area.

The rest of the session passed in a blur. While waiting his turn, Zack emptied his mind of any thought. When the time came, he focused on the movements, the target, the action rather than the man.

As if he watched his own performance from outside his body, Zack marveled at the strength manifested even before the plank snapped around his extended foot, before the bricks crumbled under the blade of his hand. Each time, the appropriate yell liberated his energy at the crucial moment, directing his will against the target. Amazing what the power of the mind could do on solid matter, how will and intention could intensify the force of a blow.

At the end of the session, the judges deliberated, then the old teacher called the names of the three students who passed the test out of five. Zack was among them. He’d succeeded at his own test of concentration. The rank meant nothing to him, but it mattered to his teacher. When the old master called Zack’s name to receive his black belt and certificate, Zack saw the pride in the old man’s eyes. So, out of respect and gratitude for the knowledge imparted, Zack accepted his reward graciously.

After the showers, most of the students planned to celebrate at their favorite pizza place. Zack slipped on his jeans and alien-head sweat-shirt in a hurry, then pulled on his helmet as he rushed outside. In the parking lot, he secured his gym bag on the back of the Kawasaki. Lobo hurried after him, still braiding his wet hair, and mounted the motorcycle behind Zack, who revved the engine. Night had fallen and the cool air smelled of spring rain. They stopped at Wei Pei for takeout on the way to Zack’s home.

As Zack leaned into the bend, the motorcycle beam swept over a black van parked across from his house. The gold logo of a flower shop decorating the sides didn’t look familiar. Zack sighed. “It’s the Feds all right,” he yelled in Lobo’s ear. “They probably bugged the house again.”

Lobo’s helmet shook as he laughed. “Poor bastards could be up all night. I feel sorry for their wives.”

“At least they have wives,” Zack railed.

“Dude, if they stole the bogus files from the computer in your room, they are in for a surprise.”

“That’ll keep them busy for at least a week.” Since the last time the Feds had stolen his files, Zack had booby-trapped his old computer, which had become a bed of viral infection. The real files remained safe with him at all times, on CDs and the laptop he carried in his back pack.

“About time we give them something to worry about.” Lobo chuckled. “Might be fun to get these guys scared for a change.” He seemed to think of all this as fun.

Avoiding a glance toward the black van, Zack pulled into the driveway, next to his mom’s car. No need to leave space for his stepfather, who’d taken yet another assignment overseas. It happened a lot lately, and Zack couldn’t blame him. The atmosphere in the house had become rather depressing since his mom had stopped working and vegetated on the couch like a recluse, finding refuge in her bottle of Blue Heaven, the new liquor the color of sapphire that matched her eyes.

After his sister’s disappearance, his parents had sold the house in Granada Hills. Too many memories of Ashley. They’d bought another home close to Berkeley campus, so Zack could stay at home while going to school. It made his mom feel less alone. A lot of good that did.

Zack and Lobo entered through the front door.

Sitting alone on the fancy sofa, Zack’s mother glanced up from the television. “Hi, Lobo. Hi, Hon. How did your test go?” Her speech sounded slurred, and Zack noticed the glass of blue liqueur on the coffee table. His mother had lost her professional polish. She looked old and tired and frail in the semi-darkness. But he understood her pain and couldn’t blame her.

Zack held up his black belt and diploma for her to see. “Got it, Mom.”

“I’m glad.” Her smile waned and she turned her attention back to CNN.

Zack knew she still hoped the CIA would find Ashley among the terrorists, somewhere in Iraq or Afghanistan, so she kept up with all the developments in the middle-east. Zack felt bad about it. He’d broached and lost the argument so many times, he didn’t even try anymore.

Zipping through the kitchen, Zack snatched two cans of soda from the fridge then bounded up the stairs with Lobo. Once in his room, he locked the door and dropped all the stuff on the desk. He glanced through the window and considered the black van with foreboding. Would the Feds really hurt his family if he went too far? They would go ballistic when he released his book. They were in it, with all the dirty little tricks they’d pulled on him for the past two years. He closed the navy blue roll up blind before turning on the light.

His space had a very different feel from his old room in Granada Hills. No posters of Angelina Jolie here. One wall featured detailed renditions of the alien Zack had seen that night, along with other alien portraits from his mind contacts with Ashley. Maps of the stars covered the ceiling. Another wall featured artist sketches of what Ashley would look like now, with long hair, short hair, no hair at all. Anasazi drawings and pictographs Zack had gleaned from his psychic travels on the alien ship dotted the other walls. Among them, many representations of Kokopelli, the legendary flute player.

Zack had met Lobo while researching Kokopelli. Although his friend was Apache, he had connections with many tribes. So Zack had learned from an old Hopi artist from Arizona that Kokopelli was actually a well-endowed fertility god, and what he played wasn’t a flute at all. That’s why he always looked bent, not because of the sac of grain on his back. They’d had a good laugh that day.

Lobo, who knew the debugging routine by now, already checked the room with his latest spy gadget. The two friends didn’t exchange one word while combing the room. Dude, the black cat, opened a tired eye from his nap on Zack’s pillow. He purred loudly when rewarded with a scratch behind the ears.

Lobo’s detector chimed and he flashed Zack a mischievous smile. Delicately, Lobo pulled the miniature microphone from behind the desk, laid a finger across his lips, brought the mike to his mouth then screamed, “Banzai!”

Zack chuckled. “This is lame, dude. Grow up.”

Lobo ground the device under his shoe on the hard floor then set the detector on the desk. “I’m starved.” He popped the tag off a soda can, opened a fried rice container and grabbed a pair of chopsticks.

“There could be more bugs.” Zack seized the detector and continued scanning the room.

“Don’t think so,” Lobo managed on a mouthful.

Finding no other microphone, Zack finally relaxed and sat down on the bed. He accepted the other carton from Lobo and ate, sharing bits of fried rice, eggs and shrimp with Dude the cat, who always perked up at the smell of food.

After setting aside the container, Zack pulled his laptop out of his backpack, opened it on the bed, then went online through the remote router to check the server. All the files on the website looked like a jumble of broken codes. “What a mess!”

“Told you.” Lobo finished his container. He pointed at Zack’s unfinished carton with his chopsticks. “You eating that?”

Zack shook his head. “You can have it.” One by one, he deleted the files.

Lobo smiled in gratitude. “How far are you with your book?”

The deletion was taking time. Zack glanced over the laptop screen. “If Ashley can’t communicate with me anymore, I guess it’s time to finish the book and get it out there.”

“On the web?” Lobo licked his chopsticks.

“Where else? We are getting so many hits on the site, we can sell a million of this thing in no time as long as it’s cheap enough.”

Taking a gulp of soda, Lobo set the can loudly on the desk and burped. “You talking download?”

“Sure, like a buck a piece. Then when we have enough money, we can get the darn thing printed ourselves.” Even to Zack it sounded too easy.

”Put that way, it sounds doable.” Lobo aimed and pitched the empty container into the waste basket.

“I even know a few radio and TV guys eager for a controversial story. My stepfather will hate me for this, but I plan to talk to his friends from the studio. Several of them produce talk shows.”

“Sweet.” Lobo paused, his dark gaze searching Zack’s eyes. “So, what’s the catch?”

Zack clucked his tongue. “The Feds aren’t going to like it. It could become dangerous for anyone associated with me.”

“I don’t care about that.” Lobo’s even face turned serious. “The Feds have persecuted my people for over two centuries.”

Zack hadn’t thought of that angle. All the files were now deleted. “There, all gone.” Zack cleared the site and closed it. “Time for plan B.” Zack dialed a fresh server’s address. He’d learned to have several in reserve. He started the set up process and entered his trademark domain name, Anaz-voohri.com. He’d discovered through his psychic contacts with Ashley that was the name of her abductors’ race. “Are the bozos in the black van still here?”

Lobo went to the window and lifted the side of the shade. “Nope. They scrammed.”

“Good, that means there was no other bug.”

It took the best of two hours to finish the job, during which Lobo made useful suggestions, but mainly he kept Zack awake and entertained. Moral support, as he called it, and Zack appreciated that. Then Zack loaded all the pages and graphic files from a backup CD and started testing the site.

Lobo followed him every step of the loading process. “Seems to be working.”

“Looks fine to me. Check it out.” Zack turned the laptop, dialed the website, then he clicked all the links. All the pages appeared as they should—his blog, his drawings, the portraits of Ashley, and some of the information he’d gleaned through his communications with his sister.

The thought of Ashley squeezed Zack’s heart, but although she probably wouldn’t communicate anymore, he believed her to be safe. If the Anaz-voohri had wanted her dead, they’d have killed her long ago.

Lobo stretched on the rug and yawned. “Got a blanket?”

Zack threw him a pillow and a comforter, then slipped between the covers, exhausted. He’d probably flunk anthropology by not turning in his paper tomorrow. So be it. His sister came first.

* * * * *

Kavak couldn’t believe she had been so blind. She hovered around her personal chamber, then stopped in front of the clear bulkhead to gaze at the blue planet, Earth. All this time, the little brat named Ashley had been sending messages to her brother down there. How much did the young man know? At least, the girl wouldn’t blab again. Kavak made sure the surgeons erased her memories for good this time. Again she castigated herself for not killing the brother when she had the chance, two years ago. Now he’d become a nuisance.

At her console, Kavak scanned the various wave frequencies around the blue planet, trying to figure out how much information had leaked. She came upon something flaunting the name Anaz-voohri. Surprised, she explored on her three-dimensional screen the information posted there for all to see. She hissed when she saw her own face, along with an accurate rendition of the nursery where the girls were kept. Little Ashley had been busy, indeed.

Kavak couldn’t afford a slip up in the current political climate among the Anaz-voohri, and this young man constituted a liability. But Kavak couldn’t go there or send someone to take care of...Zack. That was the brother’s name. At least not now. Any intervention would be an admission of her mistake. And although it might seem like an easy task, it could very well be a trap. Besides, any further Anaz-voohri sighting on Earth would rally the population to the very belief Kavak wanted to suppress.

No. Kavak would have to go on as planned and bide her time, but she also needed to silence the exasperating Zack Duncan once and for all.

Chapter Five

Los Angeles – Summer 2005

Elated, Zack grinned at Lobo as they walked out of the NBC studio on Alameda Avenue. “Told you they’d go for it.” He unbuttoned his navy blue blazer, wishing he’d brought a change of clothes.

Lobo, who hadn’t gone on stage, looked comfortable in his black leather jacket. “All they want is ratings, right?”

“I know. But I don’t care, as long as people hear the true story.”

Lobo flipped back his long black hair. “It was awesome how you showed that talk show host you could handle him.”

Zack chuckled. “The guy wanted to make me look like a loony, but I have the truth on my side. I’m young but not stupid.” He winked. “After all, I did write a darn good book.” He patted his inside breast pocket where he kept a copy of Alien in my Sister’s Bedroom. The title reeked of sensationalism, but it brought a lot of media coverage. It was part of the strategy.

“After an interview like that on national TV, we’re going to get a lot more hits on the website, dude.” Lobo sounded even more excited than Zack.

The sun had set already, and dusk quickly turned to night as they strode toward the parking garage where Zack had left the Kawasaki. He stopped before crossing the driveway. “Even if they don’t buy the book, more people will find out what’s going on. That’s what we want.”

They waited on the curb to let a security guard in an electric car pass by at a snail pace. The guard gave them a vacant stare. The show audience had long left and the place looked deserted.

Lobo stepped onto the tarmac. “Dude, they’re entitled to the truth. It’s their planet.”

Once inside the parking garage, Zack pushed the elevator button. “I only hope someone out there can help us find Ashley. What level was it?”

As the door opened, Lobo went in. “Three.”

Zack followed and punched the third level. When the door opened again, he recognized the layout and started toward the motorbike. As he approached it, a chill went through Zack and he stopped. A black van next to the Kawasaki displayed a pizza delivery logo. “What pizza place would use a shiny black van?”

Lobo halted behind him. “The Feds?”

“They didn’t waste any time.” Zack wondered how they found out about the interview. He’d taken every precaution.

“You said they weren’t going to like it.” Lobo sounded scared. “What can they really do?”

“Almost anything they want. They are the Feds.”

“So, what now?” Lobo’s voice shook. “We split?” He was a pacifist by nature.

Zack threw the keys to Lobo. “Take the Kawasaki and run! I’ll keep them busy. It’s me they want.”

The back doors of the van burst open. Zack anchored himself in a karate stance. Five or six men in black gear and ski masks erupted from the vehicle and rushed toward him.

Instead of running away, Lobo moved closer to Zack. “Dude, I may not be a big shot black belt, but I won’t let you down.”

Thankful for his friend’s loyalty, Zack nevertheless wished Lobo had escaped. He didn’t want to be the cause of unnecessary harm. Emptying his mind, as the men in black charged, Zack turned sideways to offer a narrow target.

Blocking a high kick, Zack grabbed the foot and sent his opponent flying in a twist. He blocked and threw punches as fast as his attackers rushed him and remained untouched. It seemed almost as if the assailants didn’t really want to hurt Zack. His tireless training finally paid off.

In his peripheral vision, Zack saw Lobo taking a few hits. A drop kick from a Fed sent Lobo to the concrete floor. As Zack retaliated to protect his friend, he heard the sharp sound of the bolt cocking an automatic weapon.

“Enough!” a male voice boomed.

Zack stopped in mid-movement and the men in black stepped back, forming a wide circle around Zack and Lobo. On the floor, Lobo struggled to get up then rushed the closest FBI agent. The man fired a taser that sizzled. Halted by the shock, Lobo twitched under the electric charge as sparks danced around his body. He finally fell to the ground.

Livid, Zack controlled his urge to pounce and hissed, “Don’t you dare injure him.”

The FBI leader who held the automatic motioned to his men to retreat further. Under the ski mask Zack thought he recognized the striking pale blue eyes. Then it came back to him. Agent Tolek Michalski, who’d visited him over two years ago, right after Ashley’s abduction. Zack had researched him for his book and found out he was a retired Marine colonel, the son of Polish immigrants as attested by his cold blue gaze. The man walked toward Zack and sneered. “So, the young pup couldn’t keep his trap shut.” It was Michalski all right.

Zack wished Michalski would come closer so he could kick the weapon out of his hands, but the seasoned agent didn’t make that mistake.

“What do you want?” Zack hated being on the defensive.

“Just talk.” Michalski seemed to relish his advantage. His deliberate attitude was probably meant to intimidate.

“I’m listening.” Zack struggled to remain calm on the surface but his body buzzed with adrenalin.

“Not here.” Michalski motioned toward the van’s open doors with his gun. “Hop in here without protesting, and we’ll let your friend go unharmed.”

Zack scoffed. “I’m not sure I can trust you on that.”

Upon Michalski’s signal, his men retreated toward the van. “Do we have a deal?”

Lobo sat there, stunned but alive. Zack didn’t want him to suffer needlessly. Nodding, Zack held up his hands. Two men stepped up and handcuffed him.

As they guided him toward the van, Zack turned and stole a glance at Lobo, who struggled to his feet. “Anything broken?”

Lobo grimaced and rubbed a bleeding lip. “I’ll live.” His dark gaze smoldered with anger.

Guessing Lobo’s intention to follow the van, Zack shook his head slowly. “Don’t do it, dude. I’ll be fine.”

Inside the van, black molded plastic seats lined three sides. No windows, just a white opaque roof that filtered daylight. His captors pushed Zack on the far side and strapped him down on a seat. Agent Michalski sat next to him and took off his mask, revealing his blond hair.

“I knew it was you.”

Michalski smirked. “Shut up.”

The whole team eased up on both sides, but the men kept their masks on.

Zack heard Lobo starting the bike and prayed he would get safely home. The van backed out then sped down the exit ramp, tires screeching on the slick concrete.

“Where are you taking me?” Any kind of conversation would help calm Zack’s raw nerves.

Michalski averted his blue gaze, as if disturbed by the question. “Somewhere safe and private.”

“Right.” Zack grunted. “Funny, I never feel that safe with you guys around.”

When an agent pulled a black hood over his head, Zack protested. “Is that necessary? There are no windows in this box.”

“Just in case,” agent Michalski said gruffly. “It’s standard procedure.”

Zack wondered in case of what? Why would they keep their destination secret? If they didn’t want him to remember, at least it meant they didn’t intend to kill him, or they wouldn’t bother. He found the thought vaguely reassuring.

The van traveled fast, probably weaving in and out of traffic, eliciting vibrations that jostled Zack against strong shoulders on each side of him. For a while, he heard the unmistakable sound of his Kawasaki following them, but the van driver must have been experienced in high-speed chases. Soon, the motorcycle engine faded away. Relieved, Zack leaned against the backrest.

The men around him merely exchanged a few meaningless words punctuated by grunts, stirring, the shifting and clicking of gear, and the rustling of rough uniform material. They smelled of vinyl and antiperspirant. Over the quiet engine, the noise of LA traffic after dark filtered in, then the van must have entered a freeway, but Zack couldn’t tell where they were headed.

After what seemed like an hour, the van stopped and Zack’s captors led him out, still blindfolded. When he stepped off the van, his feet met smooth concrete. Their footsteps echoed as they walked through what sounded like a vast empty building smelling of stale dust. A warehouse? A hangar? The short elevator ride definitely went down rather than up, as the floor dropped from under him. When they stepped out, someone pulled the hood off his head. Zack squinted, briefly blinded by the bright fluorescent lights.

The brushed aluminum and glass space had rubber floors the color of putty that bounced slightly underfoot. Through the glass walls, Zack could see agents in black uniforms, encased in their offices like so many black fish in their aquariums. They studied files, stared at monitors, or consulted each other. Around them, state of the art equipment Zack had never seen before blinked in a surreal silence. The whole place seemed soundproof. A secret underground FBI facility? “Cool place.”

Agent Michalski almost smiled. “This way.” He took the lead along the central corridor, followed by Zack and the masked agents. Other personnel in the hallway saluted Michalski, and that intrigued Zack. The FBI wasn’t military, so why the salutes and the uniforms? Was this a paramilitary branch? The legendary Men in Black, notorious among UFO researchers? That would explain the extreme secrecy.

When Michalski opened an office glass door etched with his name and the title of Special Agent, Zack was impressed. In order to have his own office in a super secret facility, the man must be a big shot in the Bureau. He sat behind the brushed aluminum and glass desk and motioned for Zack to take a chair while the masked men remained at the door.

Zack wiggled his cuffed hands. “Could you take those off?”

Michalski called one of his men, who un-cuffed Zack and left with the other agents, closing the glass door. Zack rubbed his chafed wrists and looked around in awe. A loud click told him the door had locked. So much for escaping. The facility looked as tight as a bunker.

Michalski smiled. “It’s just you and me, we can talk freely.” He pointed to the chair.

Zack shook his head, too nervous to sit. He scanned the room. He didn’t trust the FBI. “No recording devices?”

“None whatsoever. You have my word.” Michalski opened a drawer and dropped a copy of Zack’s book on the desk. “Your little story makes for an interesting read. “

”It’s not a story, it’s the truth."

Michalski smiled coldly. “I happen to be one of the few people in government who know that for a fact.”

“So what are you doing about it? Instead of harassing honest citizens, you should be looking for these alien freaks.”

Michalski leaned back in his chair. “What makes you think we aren’t?”

Taken aback, Zack paused. “What are you doing exactly?”

“That’s classified.”

“Of course it is.” Zack felt like a fish being battered, ready to go into the frying pan. He paced the closed aquarium. All this glass made him claustrophobic. “That’s your excuse for hiding your little schemes, maybe even your lack of real action.”

“Enough, Mr. Duncan. There are limits to my patience.” Michalski made a visible effort to relax. “We brought you here to reason with you.” He opened a silver box on his desk and offered Zack a cigar.

Zack shook his head. He didn’t smoke and hated the smell of cigars. “Are you trying to buy me out?”

“Hardly.” Michalski leaned over the desk, his steely eyes staring right into Zack’s. “See, right now you are an infuriating tick on the big dog, and if you don’t pull out, the big dog is going to scratch real hard, then bite your head off.” He cut the end of the cigar, and it dropped into the ashtray.

“Are you threatening me?” Zack suddenly realized that the FBI could easily make him disappear.

“Just a warning. We have a very discrete holding cell with your name on it at Guantanamo Bay...unless you pull out the book, close your website, and stop all subversive activity immediately.” Michalski took his time lighting the cigar, as if savoring the effect of his threat.

Zack’s frantic mind raced. He couldn’t possibly abandon his research. He had to save or avenge his sister, and he couldn’t do that while rotting in a forgotten jail overseas. “Don’t be so quick to get rid of me. If you are serious about going after the Anaz-voohri, what I know could be invaluable.”

Michalski let out a fat puff. “We already know what you know.” He tapped the book with his index finger. “And we’ve been monitoring your web site.”

“I thought you didn’t believe in telepaths.” Zack waved the stinky smoke away from his face and stepped back.

“We have used them on occasion.”

“Well, not everything is in the book. Do you think that two years of research and extended daily contacts with my sister could fit in two hundred pages and one Web site? That’s only the tip of the iceberg. I spent hours, day after day, watching them through her eyes. I understood much more than she did.”

“And how big, exactly, is that iceberg?” Michalski squinted, but his tone turned eager.

“Huge. Anatomy, religion, military power, physical and psychological traits, weaknesses...” Zack realized he’d just saved his hide, and now held a bargaining chip. “But if I work for you, I want access to all your classified files on UFO sightings.” He’d give anything to get his hands on these secret files.

Michalski cleared his throat and set the cigar on the ashtray. He wove his fingers together and sighed. “We could certainly use the kind of information you are offering.”

“But the deal has to go both ways. I want to know what you know.”

Michalski chortled. “Don’t worry. If you work with us, we’ll share as well. The extent of what we discovered might even astound you.”

Zack savored his unexpected triumph. He couldn’t believe how different the world seemed from the other side of the fence. Working for the FBI was the last thing Zack had ever imagined. Why hadn’t he thought of this earlier? Was it even ethical? In some twisted way, it made sense. With the FBI on his side, Zack might finally stand a chance to succeed. “So, how much do you know?”

Michalski leaned back in his chair. “What if I told you alien spacecraft have been sighted in the vicinity of Earth quite recently and several governments are in alert?”

“Anaz-voohri ships?” That changed everything. If they’d come back, maybe they’d return Ashley.

“That’s what you keep calling them in your book. Interesting name, Anaz-voohri.”

“That’s what they call themselves.” Zack still didn’t quite trust the man. “What guarantees do I have that you’ll keep your end of the bargain?”

“Listen.” Michalski picked up his cigar. “We are desperate against a powerful aggressor, and if you can give us an edge, I’m prepared to make you a sweet deal.”

The thought of Lobo crossed Zack’s mind. What would his friend think of such a sudden reversal? What would he do in his place? Lobo always strived for wisdom, peace, and cooperation. What was more important? Following the old path or getting results? The fate of the world could be at stake. Zack took a deep breath and released it slowly. He wasn’t totally comfortable with the idea, but it was his best shot. “I’m in.”

“And you’ll give up all your public activities?”

Zack dropped into the chair and sighed. “If that’s what it takes.”

“Be careful. Once under oath, any slip up and I promise you’ll find yourself in that dingy cell. The FBI is no college frat house. We mean what we say.”

Zack swallowed hard. As an aspiring journalist, he’d never been good at keeping secrets. He’d have to tread carefully with this precarious arrangement. “I give you my word.”

“After we share with you, there is no going back. Do you understand?”

The finality choked Zack’s voice. “I’m well aware of that.” He willed his words to come loud and clear. “Let’s do this.”

“Good. Here’s the deal.” Agent Michalski pushed a button on his desk and the glass walls turned milky white. The side wall became a large screen where an image of Earth from space appeared. He swiveled his chair to face the wall.

Zack did the same.

“This recording was taken by an orbiting satellite on July 4, 2003, the night the twelve little girls, the Darling Dozen as we call them, disappeared from their beds in the middle of the night.”

Zack would never forget that fateful night. He watched with fascination the three disc-shaped vessels gliding smoothly toward the North American East Coast, moonlight glinting on their golden surface. The hull seemed carved with markings that resembled the Anasazi petroglyphs Zack had observed in his quest for Kokopelli, the flute player. The alien vessels paused over Long Island. One remained there while another went to the Midwest and the third swooped to LA then flew over the Pacific Ocean toward the Hawaiian Islands. “I’ll be damned!” Zack exclaimed. “You knew all along?”

“They landed in all the spots where the girls were abducted. But that’s not all.” Agent Michalski pressed a key on a desk top device, and another view from space displayed the Indian Ocean. “This one was taken on December 26, 2004, just hours before the Tsunami struck.”

Chills running down his spine, Zack observed a spaceship falling through the atmosphere like a flaming meteorite, accelerating toward the ocean. The ship splashed and disappeared under the surface.

“Keep watching.”

Zack focused on the spot where the vessel had impacted the water. A bright explosion deep under the surface churned the waters.

“The blast destabilized the fault between the tectonic plates and made the planet wobble on its axis. There is no doubt that it caused the infamous Tsunami.”

Bile rose in Zack’s throat at the thought of hundred of thousands killed by the cataclysm that followed. “Was it intentional?’

“We prefer to think it was an accident. The ship had several occupants. It seems their ships are prone to technical failures. We’ve observed several in a short time. We don’t know why.”

“I think I do.” Zack savored his advantage. “They don’t have the manpower to maintain them.”

“Really?” Michalski considered Zack with new respect. “There is more.”

Zack grabbed the armrests of his chair trying to digest this new information. He hadn’t expected to learn that much so fast. “More?”

“Oh yes.” Agent Michalski started another satellite footage. “Watch carefully on the left side of the eye of Hurricane Katrina.”

Zack couldn’t believe it. The enhanced picture revealed an Anaz-voohri spacecraft just above the deadly spiral. “Did they cause it?”

“Unlikely. However, they were monitoring it very closely, as if they are studying our weather patterns.”

“Why would they do that?” Zack’s mind swirled with new theories.

“Either they are studying it or interfering with it, but most likely they are planning an invasion. Why else would they be interested in the weather on the surface?”

“They want to use the weather as a weapon?” At first Zack thought the return of the Anaz-voohri meant Ashley would come back soon, but obviously her abductors had more sinister plans. “What can we do?”

“If, as you say, you can give us inside information about their species, then we can figure out what they want, and knowing their weaknesses could give us a starting point on how to fight back.”

“That’s cool with me.” Zack failed to find reassurance in the agent’s confidence. “But they are so advanced, how can we possibly win?”

Michalski shook the ashes from his cigar. “We are currently training exceptional troops for a special kind of mission never attempted before.”

Zack wished he could join them, despite his dislike of the military. “Do they know what they are up against?”

“Not yet.” Michalski stared at Zack pointedly. “You’d probably be my first choice to brief them on that. But they are the best and the brightest in their fields, and we have hope.”

“Do we have the ability to fight in space?”

“We’re working on that, too.” Michalski pulled on his cigar. “Still interested?”

“Hell, yes. But I don’t want to be sitting on the sidelines. I want to join the fight. Where do I sign up for your special troops?”

“Not so fast.” Michalski coughed up smoke. “You look tough enough and you bring valuable alien expertise to the table. But we have to debrief you first. After you’ve held your end of the bargain, I’ll gladly recommend you to join their training camp. Of course, you’ll have to remain available to us whenever we need your expertise.”

“Sweet.” Zack suddenly remembered the TV interview. “But that footage recorded today for NBC will air tomorrow.”

“No it won’t.” Michalski grinned through the smoke. “We already saw to that.”

“Damn! You’re quick.”

“Aren’t you glad you are part of our team?”

Great relief washed over Zack. He’d fought hopelessly in the dark for so long, he finally would get to face his enemy with a fighting chance. But what had he gotten himself into? The hardest part would be to explain his sudden change of heart to Lobo without spilling any government secrets. Zack hoped he wouldn’t lose his only friend in that bargain.

* * * * *

As Zack feared, Lobo didn’t take the news well. He paced Zack’s now bare room, shaking his head. “I can’t believe it. That’s not right. You can’t just give up like that.” Lobo didn’t say What about me? But the disappointment and the pain of the rejection showed in the way he avoided looking at Zack.

“Hey! I’m not giving up, man.” Uncomfortable on the bed, Zacks punched the pillow nervously. “I’m stepping up to the plate and taking action. What I’m doing now is helping more than just writing a book or running a website. Although no one knows it, our planet is at war against a powerful enemy, and I want to fight. So I’m joining the Special Forces.”

“You? A soldier? You’re kidding, right?”

“What’s so funny?” Zack resented Lobo’s lack of confidence in him. “I’m fit, I know how to fight, I have self discipline and I’m tough.”

“Yeah, but you’ll never make it in the military, dude.”

“Why not?”

Lobo faced the window, his back tense. “I can’t picture you taking orders from those power-hungry pricks. You never could obey stupid orders.” He faced Zack suddenly. “What makes you think you can change? Remember what you told me about your real dad?”

Zack remembered only too well. He was only nine when his father had come home drunk from one of his escapades. He’d shoved Zack’s mother against the wall and she looked so scared. When his father ordered him to bed, Zack rebelled. Even at nine, he couldn’t let his father abuse his mother.

In an uncontrollable rage, Zack had rushed the big man, kicked and screamed and carried on until one of the neighbors called the cops. He’d received bruises and even a broken rib from his drunken dad that day, but the incident had given his mother pause. She’d realized his father presented a danger to Zack and she’d filed for divorce.

After that she’d married a journalist colleague, then Ashley was born. Ironically, Ashley’s disappearance had plunged his mother into the same alcoholic trap his father had fallen into.

“I’m not nine anymore.” Zack found it difficult to talk. “I can control myself and obey stupid orders if it’s for a good cause.”

Lobo faced him again, his brow set in a frown. “So you think, but I wouldn’t bet on it.”

Zack couldn’t imagine abandoning his friend of several years. An empty sensation ate at the pit of his stomach. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m not a warrior like you.” Lobo’s eyes softened. “I’m going back to the reservation for the summer. Soak in the old culture, get some inspiration to design new jewelry, maybe meet a girl who’s not afraid to live the simple life.”

“What about your studies?”

“I’ll graduate, just to make my father proud. He wants me to maintain the casino computers for the Tribe in Arizona.”

Zack had the sinking feeling that this was goodbye. Something tore inside him, but he didn’t let it show. He even smiled when Lobo left. “See you around,” was all he said, but he wondered whether he’d ever see his friend again.

Picking up Dude, Zack realized his furry friend was getting old and he may never see him again, either. “You keep an eye on mom for me, Dude.” He kissed the thick black fur.

Zack wiped his eyes with his sleeve. He hated goodbyes.

Chapter Six

Two weeks later, after a debriefing at the Pentagon for the CIA in Langley, and another at the FBI Headquarters in Washington, DC, Zack drove his Kawasaki on the Washington Beltway and exited at Andrews Air Force Base. When he showed his papers at the gate, his heart beat faster, like at the beginning of an adventure. What had he gotten himself into?

Assigned to a temporary cottage on the base until his morning flight, Zack tried to sleep but anticipation and the unfamiliar sounds around him kept him awake. Around one in the morning, the thunder of a squadron taking off rattled the shutters. He jumped off the bed and opened the window but couldn’t see anything. The base, so brightly lit earlier, was in total blackout. Zack flipped the light switch. No electricity. Strange. He slipped on a pair of jeans and stepped outside to look up.

In the clear night, four fighter jets chased a round, luminous object. It was too far to see it clearly. Much larger than the jets, it flew at incredible speed in erratic patterns. Obviously, no plane could fly like that. It was too large to be a missile. It stopped instantly, then reversed course, leaving the jets to trace wide circles in their attempt to follow. It could only be an alien craft. Was it Anaz-voohri?

As Zack watched in excitement, the chase went out of range then returned shortly. After fifteen minutes of cat and mouse games, the object just went straight up and disappeared among the stars, as if it had never been there. A shiver of dread coursed along Zack’s spine. Had the Anaz-voohri engaged the military? Above Washington, DC? As if to challenge the US Government?

Early the next morning, over scrambled eggs in the crowded mess hall, a young pilot in flight jacket sat across from him. Zack saw his opportunity. “What was that all about last night?”

The pilot glanced at Zack’s civilian clothes and shrugged. “Just a routine scramble.”

Staring at his eggs, Zack wondered whether the young man mocked him.

The pilot smiled. “A scramble is a training exercise.”

Zack nodded, feeling ignorant. “Was it your squadron up there?”

“Yep,” the pilot said over a mouthful of eggs.

“Not bad, although how can anyone catch up with that thing you chased, I can’t imagine.” Zack tried to sound casual. “What was it?”

The pilot looked around then whispered, “it’s classified.”

Zack chuckled, trying to get the pilot to loosen up. “Weird would be a better word.”

The pilot offered a half smile. “Yep. Welcome to weird season at Andrews Air Force Base.”

“There are seasons for these... scrambling exercises?”

“You bet.” The pilot winked. “Summer, mainly, when the skies are clear.”

“Did you ever catch one of those things?”

The smile disappeared from the pilot’s face. “We’re not trying to. Only scare them away. Two years ago, I got too close to one... My instruments went berserk. I almost crashed.”

“Did you get a good look?”

“Sorry, I’m not at liberty to discuss it.” The young man clammed up, lost in the fascination of his coffee cup.

“Don’t worry. I’m in the loop.” Zack hoped his friendly attitude would bring forth more information, but the young man looked scared. Glancing at the clock on the wall, Zack rose. “Got to go. Nice meeting you. Good Luck.”

At seven sharp, a jeep stopped in front of the mess hall. The driver called his name, and Zack climbed inside. According to instructions, he brought only a small bag of personal effects. No change of clothes, no cell phones, no watch, no computers, no recording devices of any kind. All would be provided at his destination, although he still didn’t know where that was.

The jeep took him to a large troop transport at the end of a runway. Once inside the fat-bellied plane, however, Zack only saw a dozen young men and women sitting on the benches lining the sides. They seemed just out of college and rather quiet. Some even looked like geeks. He wondered what they all had in common to be in this special unit. Michalski said they all had brains as well as strong bodies.

Zack suspected these young recruits knew nothing about their destination or their purpose. His attempts at social contacts only produced strained smiles and shy answers. Some of them looked scared, not the usual jocks you find in recruiting offices.

Zack strapped himself on a bench. With no windows, he wouldn’t be able to see which direction the plane took. The unknown element made him nervous but excited as well.

After takeoff, the deafening noise of the engines prevented all conversation. Zack wished he could listen to his favorite CDs, but with no electronic devices allowed, he had to leave them behind. To make the best of the flight, he opted to catch up on his sleep and soon dozed off.

* * * * *

The bump of the landing gear hitting the ground woke him up. How long had they been flying? It felt like he’d slept for hours. No way to know without a watch, though.

The cargo gate at the back of the plane opened. The sun was still high in the sky, so Zack assumed they’d traveled west. As soon as he stepped outside, the intense heat almost choked him, as if he’d entered an oven by mistake. Around him, only desert, a few dry bushes, dust devils, tumbleweeds.

It looked like the southwest, but where? Arizona, Nevada, Texas, New Mexico? They’d landed in the middle of nowhere. The landing strip wasn’t black tarmac, but concrete, painted like camouflage imitating the desert floor. Several hangars with desert netting on top dotted the end of the landing strip. No other buildings in sight.

An arched ledge rose from the side of a hill, like the entrance to an underground facility. A secret base? As he followed the small group toward the entrance, Zack noticed various training areas, barely distinguishable from the desert itself.

On top of the hill, a man-made dome blended with outcrops of desert brush. An observatory? So many questions, and so far no answers. Here and there slight promontories probably sheltered ventilation shafts. Zack wondered how long the military would keep them in the dark about their location.

Instead of heading for the tunnel entrance, the officer led them off to a side trail and up the hill. Glad for his Nikes, Zack found the short climb taxing in the torrid heat. As soon as they crested the hill, Zack gasped at the sight of a cluster of large square tents under camouflage netting, all in the light colors that would make them unnoticeable from the sky. Did they really expect him to live outside in this heat? This military training camp might prove a little rougher than he’d expected.

Struggling to suppress any negative thoughts, Zack dared to hope they had air conditioning inside the tents. No such luck in the first tent they entered. It was the commissary, where they lined up to receive camouflage uniforms, combat boots, cotton socks, and underwear. The very thought of wearing all that clothing in this heat made Zack sweat. “Do we really need to wear high boots here?” Even his light shoes felt warm.

“You can go barefoot or bare-ass for all I care, soldier.” The snide remark came from a hot Latina wearing full desert gear, including a bullet-proof vest and a mean weapon at her belt. “But for your sake, you better not slow the march. I wager you have the skin of an armadillo and you don’t mind rattlers.”

Snakes? Zack hated snakes. He also didn’t like being made fun of in front of the others, mainly by a tall gorgeous woman. The insignia on her beret represented Earth seen from the North Pole, with the initials OES. Zack wondered what it stood for.

“Recruits!” Her voice carried through the tent and everyone quieted. “Welcome to Camp Hell. My name is Lieutenant Tia Vargas and you can call me Ma’am. You are wondering where you are, but believe me, it’s not on any map, so give it up. The less you know the better.”

Zack secretly vowed he’d find out anyway. He liked a challenge, and he wasn’t going to let a girl get the better of him.

“That way, if you don’t make the cut, we don’t have to eliminate you since you won’t have any secrets to report.” Her gaze slowly assessed the dozen young recruits. “We call this unit OES, Operation Earth Shield, or as I call it, Obliterate Evil Scum.”

Zack decided he hated her guts. The hot Latina had fire for sure, but he hadn’t graduated with a Masters at nineteen to be ordered around by a girl barely older than him with an obvious authority complex...even if she was a lieutenant and a total knock-out.

“By now, you probably regret volunteering for this special unit, but it’s too late. You signed your life away and your ass is mine. As of this minute, I own you body and soul. You don’t breathe, speak, move, or take a leak without my permission. And whatever I say, you salute and answer, 'Yes, Ma’am'. Understood?”

The recruits stared in dumbfounded silence.

“Understood?” she shouted then cupped her hand to her ear.

Finally getting the message, Zack saluted. “Yes, Ma’am.”

“Louder!”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Zack yelled, joined by the other recruits.

“Get in uniform and be ready to leave in fifteen minutes. Fill your water canteens. Make sure your boots are the right size. It’s going to be a long march.” She smiled, as if enjoying the effect of her words on the recruits. “Your tent is number six. Now scram!”

Although offended by this rude treatment, Zack had no other choice. As he feared, the tent wasn’t air-conditioned. He’d really have to adapt to pass this rigorous training. He was in good physical shape, though, and could endure as much as any athlete.

Still, Zack hadn’t given up his personal freedom to fall under the yoke of a total nut. What was he thinking when he’d enrolled? Didn’t he know the military was run by a bunch of power hungry freaks? Lobo’s comments came back to mind, and Zack realized he may not be cut out for military life after all.

Although he knew there was more to this operation than this humiliating training camp, Zack resented being here. But most of all, he resented Lieutenant Tia Vargas, whose only purpose in life seemed to be making his sojourn at Camp Hell utterly miserable.

Chapter Seven

Drenched in sweat, Zack could barely lift his swollen feet as he staggered uphill upon the uneven gravel of the rocky desert. The shoulder straps bruised his muscles to pulp, and the pack seemed heavier than its sixty pounds. He tasted salt and dust on his parched lips but had only one full canteen left, so he’d wait a little longer to hydrate. Next time he’d bring more water, no matter the weight.

The number of recruits in his platoon had dwindled since he’d started training at Camp Hell four weeks ago. One defected, another suffered from exhaustion and one even mutilated his right hand for the sole purpose to be hospitalized. Zack couldn’t believe what some people did to themselves to escape conditions they couldn’t handle. Human nature at its sorriest. Why did they sign up if they didn’t have the resolve?

Lieutenant Vargas led the march as usual, and Zack followed close behind her. Not bad scenery. Almost as tall as his six foot two, she was tanned and her thigh muscles bulged through the khakis as she climbed, stirring up dust in her wake. She’d tucked her long black hair into the beret, leaving her exquisite neck exposed. Although she kept a fast pace, Zack never saw her tired or sweaty. He wondered whether her pack weighed as much as his, but would never dare ask.

She slowed down and came up beside him, smelling like a freshly plucked gardenia, perfect skin, her face devoid of any makeup. “What do you think this is, soldier? The Air Force?” A spark lit her deep brown eyes as they met his. She shoved his shoulder. “Put some conviction in your steps!”

Zack stumbled under the shove. “Bite me,” he cursed softly under his breath as she quickly moved ahead. What was the bitch’s problem? She’d picked on him since the first day, no matter how well he performed. Zack hated abusers. His father had done enough of that. But if that was the price he had to pay to reach his goal and find Ashley, he’d gladly take her taunts.

The sun had long passed its zenith and now pitched to the West, but its rays remained hot and blinding despite the sunglasses. Heat rose from the baked ground. Still they marched on among the dust devils that filled Zack’s collar with grit and hurtled tumbleweed in their path. After a forty mile march, they couldn’t be more than three miles away from camp. According to Zack’s estimation, they’d soon see it from the top of the hill.

Heavy clouds to the southeast announced an approaching summer storm. Zack slapped an insect on his cheek. The start of the monsoon had spawned swarms of them in the last few days. He longed for the refreshing rain.

The other recruits looked as miserable as he felt. Some seemed close to collapsing. One girl sobbed softly as she limped along. Zack wanted to ask for a rest on behalf of the whole company, but bit his lip. Lieutenant Vargas would no doubt ridicule him in front of the others. And if she could take that kind of hardship with a smile on her face, he sure wouldn’t wimp out and give her a chance to gloat.

As they crested the ridge, Lieutenant Vargas finally ordered a halt under a clump of palo verde and mesquite trees. Recognizing the outcropping surrounding the camp in the distance, Zack gratefully sank to an inviting rock to enjoy the meager shade. He untied and set down his pack, loosened his shoe laces to relieve his swollen feet, then drank the last from his canteen. Although warm, the water loosened and washed away the dust in his throat.

Lieutenant Vargas didn’t sit or let go of her pack but planted herself in front of the platoon. Waiting patiently, she observed the recruits with an amused smile. “You have to push your limits if you want to improve your performance. How do you expect to kick terrorist ass in this kind of shape?”

Zack realized with a start that even the Lieutenant had been kept in the dark about the special unit’s true purpose. “What makes you think it’s terrorists we’re after?”

“What do we have here?” The Lieutenant grinned, white teeth gleaming in her naturally tanned face. A sinister omen. “A smart-ass, who still doesn’t know how to address a superior officer? Would you care to share your abundant knowledge with the rest of us ignorant curs, soldier?”

Too late. Zack felt trapped. “Sir, er, Ma’am, sorry, Ma’am. I... I’m not at liberty to discuss it.”

“Really?” Her smile widened, almost sympathetic. “Then drop and give me fifty for speaking when you have nothing to share. Now, soldier!”

“What?”

Lieutenant Vargas crossed her arms on her chest and her round breasts lifted slightly. “One hundred!”

“One hundred?” Zack couldn’t believe the unfairness of it all. He dropped to his hands, cursing the small rocks that poked his palms, and started pushing up. “One, two...” How could he ever do a hundred in his state of exhaustion? Sweat dripped to the parched ground, and he’d swear he heard it sizzle.

The first fifty went easier than he thought, then his body slowed down and the task became agonizing. His arms cramped and his hands bled against the coarse sand. His grunts didn’t help much. He focused mainly on not collapsing.

“What’s the matter, soldier? Lost your tongue? Speak louder!” She seemed to enjoy her power over him.

“Sixty-one.” Zack wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of victory. “Sixty-two.” His arms shook with the effort of each push and his whole body felt as hard and heavy as granite. The platoon watched him in silence, probably grateful she focused her wrath on him and not them. Why did he have to blabber? If Zack wanted to survive Lieutenant Tia Vargas’ brand of training, he’d have to learn to keep his mouth shut.

Unwilling to look weak, Zack kept working his tired arms. He counted out loud. “Eighty-nine.” A scream pierced the air, then three gunshots. The pounding of feet told Zack a soldier came at a run. “Ninety-one.”

The man stopped short, sending dust in Zack’s eyes. “Lieutenant, it’s Williams. He’s been bit. The rattler’s dead, though.”

“Ninety-two.”

“Snakes stick to the shade.” The Lieutenant walked away. “What did the dimwit do? Dig under a rock?”

Zack looked right and left. No one paid attention to him. Seeing his opportunity, Zack stopped pushing but kept counting and grunting out loud. “Ninety-three.”

He finished the count lying on the ground then rose, brushed his hands on his camouflage pants and joined the others surrounding Williams.

The unfortunate soldier sat in the dust, pants rolled up, clutching his bare calf. Even on his black skin, the welt looked ominous.

Lieutenant Vargas had opened a medical kit and held her combat knife. “He can’t walk back. Someone fetch some branches to make a sled, something we can pull, slanted like an Indian Travois.”

Half a dozen soldiers scrambled away. Zack felt too tired to move. Two steps from him, the remains of the mangled rattlesnake still writhed in the dust. It was a diamondback, deadly bastards according to Lobo.

“Ready, soldier?” The Lieutenant poised the knife over the dark lump marked by two puncture wounds.

Williams swallowed hard and stared at the sharp blade then looked away. He only grimaced when Lieutenant Vargas plunged the point into the lump and cut it out.

“I assume you tested negative for HIV before joining this unit?”

Williams nodded.

“My methods are not regulation in this country, but believe me, where I come from, they’ve proven effective.” She grabbed the calf and sucked.

When she came out to breathe and spat the blood on the rocky ground, her bloody mouth reminded Zack of some seductive vampire, beautiful and deadly. She wiped her lips with her sleeve then sucked more blood and spat again. She rinsed her knife and her mouth with water from her canteen then spat that, too. “Get me that kit.”

Zack pushed the open medical kit toward her.

Lieutenant Vargas selected a syringe of anti-venom, ripped the plastic wrap then injected the full dose into Williams’ leg. She massaged the leg and glanced up. “How is it the sled coming?” She grabbed a bandage pack tore the sterile silver bag, applied the bandage on the open wound and taped it in place. “Someone get me a blanket.”

Zack pulled out a thermal sheet from the emergency kit and unfolded it on the ground next to Williams who rolled onto it.

“Wrap him so he can’t move.” Lieutenant Vargas glanced up to Zack. “And get someone else to carry your pack, soldier. You’re running with me the rest of the way back to camp, and we are dragging Williams.”

As he wrapped Williams like a burrito in aluminum foil, Zack wanted to scream Why me? But when he looked around, he realized that even in his state of fatigue, he was the man’s best chance of getting to the infirmary in time, and Lieutenant Vargas knew it. Still, her decision didn’t make sense. “Can’t we call for a helo or a camp ambulance to come pick him up, like when a recruit passes out from the heat?” Zack immediately regretted his words.

Tia Vargas looked up at him with unmasked disgust. “Should I remind you that this exercise is meant to replicate a real combat situation? When we are behind enemy lines, on a survival mission with total com silence, we can’t call for help every time something bad happens. We take care of the problem ourselves.”

”What about Williams?” Zack shuddered as thunder rolled in the distance.

“He had preliminary care. He’ll be fine as long as we get him to the infirmary within the next hour.”

Five soldiers finished constructing the makeshift sled with Palo Verde branches, a sleeping mat, a thermal blanket, and rappel ropes. They brought it next to Williams, then affixed the harnesses.

The Lieutenant grabbed William’s wrapped legs and motioned for Zack to take the shoulders. “Help me!”

Zack picked up Williams to set him on the sled. The wounded man didn’t complain as Zack secured him to the frame.

Zack didn’t know whether to hate or admire the Lieutenant. If this were a real situation, her quick decisions and expertise would have saved a soldier’s life. For now, what mattered was getting Williams back to camp, so despite his sore feet, Zack harnessed himself to one side of the sleigh and the Lieutenant hitched herself next to him. Upon her signal, they started running downhill toward camp, lifting a cloud of dust, while the rest of the platoon followed at a slower pace.

Half way through the breathless ride, the storm burst overhead, releasing a welcome downpour. Soon, however, they slipped and slid in a deluge of mud. It took all of Zack’s self control not to insult the Lieutenant to her face for her poor choices of transportation. Wasn’t William’s health worth breaking the rules?

Williams made it to the infirmary in time to get the intravenous line. Zack nearly collapsed upon arrival, but held on until he reached his tent. He didn’t want Lieutenant Vargas to see him fall apart. That night, Zack had to remind himself of his reasons to request this training. He needed to get stronger so one day soon, he could rescue Ashley. He would get through this.

* * * * *

A few days later all the male and female recruits gathered around a large foam mat outside the circle of tents for hand to hand combat instruction. As Zack expected, Lieutenant Vargas called upon him to demonstrate the moves. If she hoped to humiliate him again, she’d be in for a surprise. This was Zack’s area of expertise, and he wouldn’t miss the chance to kick her butt in front of the whole platoon, Lieutenant or not.

“Who can enumerate for me the weakest points of the human body?”

Zack raised his hand. When she nodded as he was the only one to volunteer, he blurted, “The shadows of a man standing in the sun at noon.”

Surprise on her face, Lieutenant Vargas smiled as if proud of him. “Not bad. Step up. I’ll explain.”

Zack took three steps forward.

The lieutenant approached and circled him slowly. “When a person stands in the noon sun, the parts of the body that remain in shadow are the most vulnerable, because they are not protected by strong bone. If you hit these points with enough force or with a sharp blade, your opponent will most likely die.”

She pulled out her combat knife. “The skull is very hard.” She tapped Zack’s buzzed head with the flat of the blade. “And soldiers usually wear a helmet on the battlefield. The shoulders are strong.” She pushed down on his shoulder with her fist and Zack braced himself not to buckle. “The rib cage is designed to deflect a blade.”

The Lieutenant patted Zack’s chest, and her hands lingered, eliciting a rather pleasant sensation. “You can slide the blade between the ribs but it takes precision. The easiest way to the heart is from that shadow just under the rib cage.” She stayed her blade half an inch from his tee-shirt. “But what of the eye sockets?”

When she prodded with forked fingers and stopped just short of touching his eyes, Zack managed not to blink. As he congratulated himself, however, the Lieutenant’s close proximity made him nervous. He found her subtle gardenia fragrance quite distracting. He wondered whether the heavenly smell came from her flawless skin or the long dark hair neatly pulled back into a ponytail. She certainly wouldn’t wear perfume on the job.

“What about the nostrils?” She mimicked a blow to the underside of the nose. “The throat? The armpits?” She illustrated the direction of the attacks with the knife as she went. “The scrotum?”

Zack mustered all his self control not to flinch or move to protect his private parts as she came up with the blade and stopped a bare inch from his crotch. God, that was close. His gaze met her dark eyes and Zack read mischief in her half smile. His lack of reaction seemed to please her.

“These are your primary targets in knife combat.” She backed up a few steps and sheathed the blade then motioned to Zack. “Now go ahead and attack me, and please don’t go easy. Give me all you’ve got!”

Hiding his training under a seemingly casual stance, Zack charged, launching a series of kicks and punches in quick succession, forcing the Lieutenant to retreat. She barely avoided his blows and he didn’t give her the slightest chance to grab hold of him.

When she tumbled and quickly rolled away, Zack hesitated. As much as he wanted to teach her a lesson, he couldn’t bring himself to push his advantage.

Lieutenant Vargas regained her balance and came up with a grin. “Never step back or hesitate when you are winning, soldier. You just wasted your best advantage, the element of surprise.”

Zack resisted the urge to talk back. He wouldn’t give her the chance to give him more push ups. Damn her. He’d get her next time.

She turned to address the group. “Although Private Duncan didn’t follow through, this was a good example of aggressiveness and skill. You need both in combat. Aggressiveness alone will only get you killed, and skill without aggressiveness is not enough to overcome a stronger opponent. Something else private Zack Duncan did very well is use his whole body to strike. He didn’t just reach with fist or boot, he charged with his whole weight behind each punch or kick. Each time you strike, give it everything you’ve got. Anything less is not enough.”

Zack couldn’t believe she’d actually complimented him in front of the platoon. He refrained from smiling. This could turn out to be fun after all.

“Obviously, Private Duncan had some training.” She glanced in his direction as if to challenge him. “But do not confuse Martial Arts with real combat. Most martial arts are only sports and sports have rules. They teach you to fight fair. We don’t. We train to kill and to survive. There are no rules in war and love, as they say.”

The recruits chuckled but Zack didn’t. Was she checking his reaction?

Her mirth vanished. “You do whatever it takes. If the enemy drops his weapon and you still have yours, use it. “

She turned to face Zack. “Let’s do this again. Show me what else you’ve got, and since you’ve had some training, I’ll counterattack this time.”

Zack circled to the side then drop-kicked to the face. Lieutenant Vargas ducked and rushed his mid-section. Surprised that a woman would choose a test of strength, Zack lost his balance. The wind knocked out of him, he fell on his back. Grateful for the mat that cushioned his fall, he found the Lieutenant sitting on his chest, her knife at his throat.

Without a thought, Zack knocked her hand and sent the knife flying. Then he rolled over her. Her brown eyes softened as she stared into his. A strange emotion took hold of Zack. His heart thumped like a chopper blade. She grinned then writhed out of his grip.

Zack grabbed her from the back, his body covering hers, and hooked her neck in a sleeper hold. He didn’t dare apply pressure, but secretly savored his victory. He’d won and she knew it. As much as she’d humiliated him over the past weeks, however, Zack resisted the temptation to make her look incompetent in front of the platoon.

She twisted in his grip like an eel out of water and slicked away. She was fast. Back on her feet, she came back and attacked in a blur. It took all of Zack’s focus to see the knife coming at his face. When did she retrieve it? Did she have two blades? He blocked the knife arm, twisted it and sent her flying down.

As she lay face down, arm jutting upward, he laid his boot onto her back and pried the knife from her hand. Her ponytail had slipped and the sight of her long dark hair spilling on the mat brought other images. Zack imagined her supple body naked under his foot. Distracted for a second, he missed the slight movement that allowed her to slink away yet again.

She rolled out of reach and rose in a fluid motion. “Time out!” She snatched the rubber band from the mat and pulled back her hair. As if she avoided looking at Zack, she addressed the platoon. “Now you pair up and try those moves on each other. I don’t want to see any blood. This is only training, so use the wooden dowels for knives.”

Zack breathed hard and he noticed that Lieutenant Vargas didn’t. He could still see in her the wild Amazon he’d glimpsed a few seconds ago, and the memory stirred his blood. Damn! He’d never seen any girl so quick, strong and beautiful at the same time.

“Private Duncan?”

His name brought Zack back to the moment.

“Help me watch the others and correct their moves.”

Zack had assisted his teacher many times at the Dojo, but this came quite unexpectedly. He couldn’t help grinning as he saluted. “Yes, Ma’am.”

Over the next weeks, the training intensified. Gradually, the brutal muscle pain turned to a familiar ache. Zack’s sinews hardened. Then the basic routine of Camp Hell became just that, a routine. Camp life with outside showers, regular marches, day and night exercises in monsoon mud or parched desert, obstacle courses, combat and weapon practice.

Even kitchen or latrine duty didn’t feel like punishment anymore. It became some kind of challenge, a game soldiers played. A game of pride, mainly. And as he surpassed himself each day, Zack kept a steady eye on the lovely shape of Lieutenant Tia Vargas.

She didn’t pick on Zack as much, although he challenged her orders on a regular basis. The fact that he’d never seen her sweat, or even breathe heavy, intrigued him. Would he ever get to that level of fitness? He could already see improvement in his own ability to adapt to the climate and the rigorous training.

Soon, Zack found himself enjoying any physical undertaking she threw at him. He even learned to smile in the midst of the grueling ordeals. Something inside him refused to lose face in front of the wild and beautiful soldier.

* * * * *

Lieutenant Tia Vargas entered the Colonel’s office unprepared for the sight of Private Duncan sitting in a chair like a guest. In the drab fluorescent light bouncing off the concrete walls, he looked comfortable, almost chummy with the CO and seemed amused to see her. Thin but well built, tanned by the Arizona sun, he looked definitely handsome in his desert camouflage uniform.

Tia realized it was the first time she’d seen him in a civilized setting, away from the dust and grit of the outdoors training. She wondered at his presence and didn’t like the feeling. Did he complain to the CO about her radical training methods?

The colonel indicated a chair. “Join us, Lieutenant. We are discussing the classes to be taught the new recruits, starting next week.”

We? Tia remained standing and glanced at Private Duncan who smiled mysteriously. What was going on? “Permission to speak freely, sir.”

The Colonel leaned back into his chair behind the metal desk. “By all means, Lieutenant.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to bring these recruits into the classroom so soon.” Tia glanced at Zack Duncan but he didn’t react. “They barely finished Basic Training. With all due respect, sir, six hours daily in a chair in this air-conditioned facility could ruin weeks of careful physical conditioning.”

The Colonel reached for a file cabinet and considered her gravely as he pulled out a manila folder. “I thought you’d be eager to move on as well, Lieutenant. After all, you are an important member of this elite corps.”

“I do want to move on, sir. It’s just that the newest recruits are not quite ready, yet.”

“Right.” The colonel flipped through the file. “You’ll still have the early morning to whip them into shape, Lieutenant. I’m confident you’ll work your magic.”

Tia basked in the compliment. “Thank you, sir. I’ll do my best.”

“I know your heart is in the right place, Lieutenant, but the decision comes directly from Washington. This unit must start its specific training immediately.”

“What specific training?” Tia remembered Zack Duncan’s insinuation that day on the trail, before the rattler strike. Did he really know something she didn’t?

“Starting tomorrow, you’ll bring the recruits inside at ten hundred to teach your advanced weaponry class. The rest of the day, you’ll attend the other classes with them.”

“Yes, sir.” Tia didn’t mind studying with the recruits. Although her days at West Point seemed far away, she still enjoyed learning. She would be the best student in her class, as always.

“One more thing.” The colonel smiled briefly. “Private Duncan was recommended for his extensive knowledge of the enemy. He will teach a class in applied psychology and warfare specific to that particular enemy.”

“Duncan?” She couldn’t keep the surprise out of her voice and dropped into the chair. What could Duncan possibly know that was so important?

The colonel’s eyes hardened and the muscles of his jaw flexed. “Is there a problem, Lieutenant?”

“No, sir.” Tia couldn’t report her personal objections, or Zack’s ability to fray her nerves. She hated weakness and failure, and Zack Duncan reminded her each day that she’d failed to break him. On the other hand, she admired his unusual resilience. No recruit had ever challenged her this much.

“Private Duncan has been promoted to Second Lieutenant.”

“Lieutenant?” She stared at Zack Duncan, unbelieving.

The rascal had the gall to grin. He must have known all along.

The Colonel tapped the folder. “Duncan has a Masters and apparently his knowledge is so important that Washington insisted we put him in charge of his own unit as soon as possible.”

“I see.” Tia cursed her bad luck. Not only had Zack Duncan almost overcome her in front of the recruits, challenged her time and again, but he had connections in Washington, DC. And now a promotion just below her own rank? “May I ask what kind of classes Private, er, Second Lieutenant Duncan will be teaching?”

The Colonel rose. “Unfortunately, I have to go. Duncan is the most qualified to explain, so I’ll let him do it.”

“Yes, sir.” Zack Duncan’s turquoise eyes sparkled.

The Colonel left and closed the door behind him.

Tia forced an uncomfortable smile. “So what’s all the mystery about?”

Duncan pulled out of his pocket a book and placed it on the desk in front of her. “It’s pretty much explained in here. At least the basic idea.”

Tia took the book and scanned the cover. Alien in My Sister’s Bedroom by Zack Duncan. He’d published a book about aliens? Tia had always considered alien encounters nonsense. When her mother claimed to have been abducted by extraterrestrials while pregnant with Tia, her father had the woman locked up for months. Ever since, the subject had been taboo in her family. “Is this a bad joke?”

“I wish it were.” Zack Duncan looked so serious. “But according to recent satellite footage, they are very close, probably watching us even now.”

Tia’s mind ran like a supercomputer gone haywire. The Colonel wouldn’t kid about such things. It had to be true. All this time she’d honed her skills to fight terrorists, and now they were out to fight an alien race? Nothing prepared her for such an enemy. “How did you happen to know so much about these... aliens?”

Zack Duncan shrugged. “Just read the book and you’ll understand. Everything in it is true. The specific knowledge is extensive, however, and will have to be taught in the class.” He rose. “If you have any question, you can ask me later.”

Astounded, Tia watched Zack Duncan leave the office. Aliens? Could her mother have told the truth all these years? Tia still found it difficult to believe.

* * * * *

“And that concludes our first advanced weapons class.” Tia pushed the open nuclear missile casing to the side of the low stage to make room for the following teacher. She stepped down then walked to the back of the class to take her seat for the next session.

Curiosity and anticipation made Tia’s heart beat a little faster when Second Lieutenant Zack Duncan stepped up to the podium, carrying a heavy box full of shiny books, the same title she’d read voraciously over the last two days. He looked dashing and wore his officer’s insignia with dignity.

Taller than most, Zack Duncan had strong new muscles nicely defined under the light shirt. Well shaven, even refined... She wondered what kind of aftershave he used. He seemed to glow from the inside with youthful enthusiasm. Without a word, he drew on the white board, a prime opportunity for Tia to assess his perfectly rounded butt.

Coming out of her reverie, Tia stared at the unlikely figure Zack Duncan drew on the board. She glanced at the other soldiers. They looked mystified.

Duncan turned to face the class with a bright smile, marker in one hand, dry sponge in the other. “Anyone recognizes this dude?”

The recruits just shook their heads, dumfounded. A few soldiers sniggered and chuckled as they glanced at each other.

Tia took a deep breath. The figure looked like a scary alien from the worst Sci-fi movies, with no hair, big eyes, an elongated head, a long cape and spidery fingers. It reminded her of strange disturbing dreams she’d had lately. Could there be a connection?

“Unfortunately for us, this,” he pointed at the board with emphasis, “is the face of our enemy.” The new Lieutenant flashed Tia a friendly smile then gazed over the heads of the forty or so students.

A few chuckles circulated among the rows.

“Laugh all you want right now, and get it over with.” Zack Duncan grew serious and looked suddenly older, as if weighed with responsibilities. “Washington doesn’t spend billions on jokes, so think twice and take a good look. Of course, this information is highly classified.”

“Yes sir,” came the unanimous response, punctuated by nods.

“This alien race is called the Anaz-voohri, and they come from a star system called The Pleiades...”

Fascinated, Tia understood why the colonel had kept their true purpose a secret for so long. And who knew this irritating soldier had such inside knowledge? She’d read the book, and although it didn’t offer any tangible proof, the sincerity of Duncan’s testimony shone through like a bright fire. Tia experienced an intriguing new sense of respect for Zack. She still had problems assimilating this new knowledge, but he’d written a very convincing argument.

As the new lieutenant went on to explain for the class the basic tenets of Anaz-voohri society, his natural charisma kept the soldiers under a spell. He reported the most unbelievable facts and theories with a matter-of-fact attitude that barred any challenge. He easily communicated his passion for the topic, and the class listened with excitement.

Could he really be that good? He certainly could mesmerize a crowd. Tia realized she had grossly underestimated him during basic training. Despite his scabrous topic, he won the respect of the platoon. She wondered what else he might be good at and would make it a point to find out.

The class ended in effusive applause. Tia couldn’t help but join in.

Zack Duncan motioned a recruit to distribute the books. “That’s your homework for this week. You have to read the whole thing. No cheating. There will be a test.”

The soldiers left the room for lunch break, high-fiving each other, saying, “Let’s kick alien ass, man.”

Tia walked up to the man of the hour, busy erasing his vivid drawings. “Well done, Lieutenant. May I say you are a skilled sketch artist as well.”

“Thanks. I had some practice.” He glanced at her over his shoulder then faced Tia sheepishly. “I’m not used to that rank thing. I’d prefer it if you called me Zack.”

“Really?” What kind of officer didn’t care about rank? Tia silenced her misgivings. After all, it suited her. “Well, I’ll call you Zack and I guess since our ranks are so close, you can call me Tia. Want to grab lunch at the officers’ mess?”

“There is an officers’ mess.

“I see you haven’t been briefed, yet.”

Zack broke into a wide smile. “Haven’t had a decent meal in three months.”

“Right, since you got here.” Tia laughed. “I wouldn’t eat what passes for food in the mess tent outside. It’s healthy, to be sure, but loaded with salt and carbohydrates, and for the purpose of Basic Training they make it look as repulsive as possible.”

She led the way along the drab concrete tunnels of the underground facility. The Officers' Mess, although far from cheery, had beige walls and bright blue polymer tables and chairs that broke the monotony of the naked concrete.

As they approached the buffet line, Tia noticed Zack’s gaze roaming over the food. “What’s the matter?”

Zack whistled. “Now that’s what I call a smorgasbord!”

“Officers enjoy special privileges.” Tia selected shrimp with salad greens, nuts and fruit.

Zack heaped two plates, one with beef stroganoff and the other with poached salmon in cream sauce. “Can I come back for dessert?”

Tia couldn’t help but chuckle as they carried their trays to the soda fountain. “You sure you’re going to eat all that?”

Zack nodded and winked then filled his cup with soda. “You bet...”

He didn’t finish the sentence, but Tia wondered whether he’d meant to add your sweet ass. She smiled at the thought. Trays in hand, they negotiated their way to a table in a corner, slightly away from the noise and the activity of the other officers.

Tia sat and took a sip of iced tea, no sugar, the healthiest drink in the place. “Do you still have psychic contacts with your sister?” Tia was hard pressed to hide her awe of such ability.

“Not in months.” Zack attacked his food with a healthy appetite.

She picked at her shrimp. “Can you communicate like that with other people as well?”

Zack swallowed and washed down his stew with soda. He hesitated. “I never tried.”

“You should.” Tia had never left any of her special talents unexplored. She pretended to work on her salad. She felt inadequate when others had abilities she lacked.

Apparently flattered by her interest, Zack slowed his food intake. He shrugged. “Maybe I will.”

At least he had the good taste not to gloat about it. “Where is your sister now?”

Zack frowned. “I have no clue. Probably with them...if she’s still alive...”

“I’m sorry.” Sad memories came to Tia’s mind. “I lost a brother in the Trade Center terrorist attack.”

Zack’s brow darkened. “They’ll pay for what they’ve done. All of them.” The determination in his voice surprised Tia.

But she couldn’t let herself fall under Zack’s newfound charm. She had to remind herself that the rules forbade fraternization, although she saw no harm in sharing tactical info, officer to officer. “How can we possibly fight the Anaz-voohri effectively?” She realized Zack’s knowledge placed her at a disadvantage and she wanted to learn.

“Obviously we don’t have the means to travel far in space, but the way I look at it, we have two choices. Either we bait them and bring them to the surface to fight, or we meet them in orbit when they come close to Earth.”

“In orbit?” Tia wiped her mouth with a napkin to hide her discomfort. She’d had scary dreams about space all her life.

Zack nodded. “I wouldn’t be surprised if we ended up at NASA for space camp.”

“Are you serious?” Although Tia liked the idea of such prestigious training, she feared she wouldn’t do well in space. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to question your information.”

“But you should.” Zack leaned back in his chair, as if enjoying her confusion and smiled. “As an investigative journalist, I learned to question everything. It’s the only way to get to the truth.”

Tia recognized the wisdom of his words but chuckled. “I was groomed at West Point. Believe me. You don’t question anything or anyone in a position of authority over there, or anywhere in the military for that matter.”

His gaze met her eyes, earnest and candid. “How can you make decisions affecting the lives of thousands of soldiers if you don’t have a personal knowledge of the truth?”

Unsettled by his frank stare, she lowered her gaze to her plate. “Decisions are simple enough to make, Zack. They are usually harder to live with.” Tia had questioned some of her decisions lately and might have a difficult time respecting them.

“I agree with you there.” Zack’s smile illuminated his face.

Surprised by her fascination for Zack, Tia realized that her appreciation for his expertise and unexpected insight would make it challenging for her to compete with him. But she never refused a challenge and relished the opportunity.

Chapter Eight

Captain Kavak hovered around her private chamber in the flag ship of the Anaz-voohri fleet. She hated delays. Finally her communicator chimed and the large view-screen on the bulkhead came to life.

Dr. Devertas, the hybrid in charge of finding adoptive parents on Earth’s surface, looked slightly younger than his thirty years. He had the good sense to appear nervous. Kavak smiled inwardly at the memory of his face when she’d dispatched his predecessor so he could get promoted. A few primitive instruments in the background indicated the doctor called from his office in the human medical facility they called the CEM.

“What took you so long? Speak!”

“I apologize, Exalted Leader. I had to make sure all your requirements were met.” Dr. Devertas spoke in barely more than a whisper.

“Don’t we have enough hybrid couples in your vicinity?”

“Raising these girls is a grave responsibility, Exalted Leader.” Dr. Devertas looked right and left, as if expecting to be caught by his colleagues. How pathetic. Even as a hybrid he feared simple humans. Typical scientist. “I had to find the perfect couple for each of them, but I think you will be pleased.”

“Kokopelli be praised! Seven suitable couples?” Two of the twelve abducted girls had died during surgery, and Kavak had decided only seven of the remaining girls would be reinserted into human society at this time. Seven was an auspicious number, the number of stars in the Pleiades system, so she called the girls the Pleiades sisters.

“Only one adoptive father is not a hybrid.” Disgusting fear made the man’s brow sweat profusely. “But he has a bright political career that could lead to the US presidency.”

“For which girl?” Kavak pondered the risks over the advantages.

“Tierney, the oldest.”

“This better work without any incident or it’s your life on the line.” Kavak hoped this dangerous maneuver would work to her advantage.

Tierney represented the star Taygeta. Kavak had chosen girls whose names approximated the names of the stars of the Pleiades system. Names carried not only meaning, but power as well. It made sense that girls named after the Pleiades stars would prove better suited to serve the Anaz-voohri.

More receptive to the technology, the girls would serve their purpose, not like little Ashley, who had defied the memory eraser and kept communicating with her brother under Kavak’s nose for two years. But Kavak had special plans for Ashley the renegade. She would come in handy when the time came to neutralize her brother, if he became a problem.

“When and where shall we take delivery of the seven sisters, Exalted Leader?”

“Tomorrow night.” Kavak enjoyed the panic on the good doctor’s face. “Call for a general meeting at the usual place just after sunset, and I will appear personally and speak to them.”

“You?” Dr. Devertas swallowed so hard his Adam’s apple bobbed, “will appear?”

“Why not? Can’t you guarantee my safety among your local hybrid cell?” Not that Kavak needed any protection. Her superior weapons and constitution insured her immunity against any human or hybrid mob.

“Yes, Exalted Leader. Of course you are safe among us.”

“So what’s bothering you?” She enjoyed watching him squirm.

“We aren’t worthy of such an honor, Exalted Leader.”

“Bull.” Kavak liked the human expletive and had cultivated it for thirty years. “I decide who is worthy of my presence.” She could read the man’s fear of finding himself in her physical proximity. As a warrior and a defective clone, Kavak had a natural aversion to scientists, but she tolerated them as a necessary evil. “Get everything ready for tomorrow night.”

“As you wish, Exalted Leader.”

* * * * *

New York – Fall 2005

Dr. Devertas bowed toward the recording device and severed the communication. After Captain Kavak’s disturbing face vanished from the computer screen, he shuddered. He could never get used to the abominable freak. On his computer screen the CEM logo appeared. Center for Evolutionary Medicine.

Sometimes Devertas wondered whether borrowing medical knowledge from the Anaz-voohri constituted true evolution for the human race. But as a hybrid, he was half Anaz-voohri and shouldn’t care. Besides, he couldn’t resist the call of cutting edge medicine, and in the war to come, it made sense to pick the winning side.

After sending a bunch of coded e-mails to convene the local hybrid cell, Devertas pressed a button on his desk. He had other duties in his state-of-the-art clinic, and he couldn’t wait to announce the results of his latest experiment. “Are the kid’s parents still waiting?”

“Yes, Dr. Devertas,” said the disembodied female voice. “Mr. And Mrs. Brady are here.”

Devertas strode out of his office to meet them in the waiting room. Mr. Brady rose, tall and dry as a stick with a flop of black hair. Mrs. Brady, a short plump woman in her forties with a kind face, quickly stuffed her romance novel into her tote bag. She wiped her blurry eyes as Mr. Brady helped her stand up.

Devertas offered his hand to shake and didn’t have to fake his best reassuring smile. “I’m glad to report that the surgery went extremely well, and little Dylan is doing fine.”

“The Virgin Mary be praised!” Tears rolled down Mrs. Brady’s puffy cheeks.

The father still seemed skeptical. “When can we see him?”

“How about right now?” Devertas started down the hall, followed by both eager parents.

“Is he awake?” the father asked, struggling to keep up with Devertas’ fast clip.

“Not yet.” Devertas slowed his pace. “But I have to warn you that he may be startled. He’s never seen shapes or colors and he might get scared or overwhelmed. I would recommend you speak to him gently and touch him. He knows your voice, your touch, your smell...that will help him adapt to his new sense of sight.”

Devertas didn’t elaborate. Unknown to the parents, however, he’d triggered more than eyesight in Dylan’s brain. Thanks to Anaz-voohri science, he could conduct his own experiments, and his miracle patients constituted the perfect guinea-pigs for his special research. Yes, little Dylan might be scared when he awoke, but it might have more to do with the awakening of new psychic abilities than with the discovery of simple sight.

Ten-year-old Dylan, pale faced under a shaven skull, slept peacefully as they entered the room. The regular beep of the monitors attested to his serene state, but the intravenous line still fed him.

Devertas dimmed the light then nudged the mother’s shoulder. “Go ahead. Wake him up as you would do at home.”

Mrs. Brady smiled and approached the bed hesitantly. She kissed the boy’s forehead, lifted her hand to caress the shaven head, but stopped and patted his cheek instead. “Wake up, sleepyhead.”

The child stirred but didn’t open his eyes.

The father remained at the foot of the bed as if afraid to get closer. “How come there is no bandage on his head?”

“That’s the latest technique.” Devertas hated to explain his work to simple folks. “The skin was lifted then glued back into place after the surgery. There was practically no bleeding. There will be no scarring. The thin laser cut along the hairline at the nape of his neck is barely noticeable and will disappear completely within a few days. His hair will grow back as black and curly as before.”

Mrs. Brady took little Dylan’s hand and kissed it. “Wake up, angel. It’s okay.”

The boy opened his eyes and blinked, then closed them back and frowned, as if ready to cry.

“It’s all right, baby. Don’t be scared. Mommy is here.”

Devertas dimmed the lights further. “You can open your eyes, Dylan. The light will not hurt you.” He turned to the father. “He’ll get used to it gradually.”

Curiosity must have taken over Dylan, because he resolutely opened his big black eyes and stared. His mouth opened and remained gaping.

“He’s trying to comprehend what he sees,” Devertas explained in a soothing voice. “Hi, Dylan. It’s me, Dr. Devertas.”

Dylan reached for his mother’s arm and smiled in recognition, then looked straight into her eyes. “Mom?” A new spark shone in his dark eyes, leaving no doubt that he could see her.

Mr. Brady touched the boy’s foot through the blanket. “And I’m your dad.”

Devertas wanted to get out of the room. He couldn’t stand such debilitating outpouring of emotions. “Congratulations on your first sight, Dylan. I’ll leave you with your family. I’ll see you later.” He strode toward the door.

“Thank you, Doctor.” Dylan’s mother glowed with gratitude. “I apologize for ever doubting you. This is a true miracle.”

* * * * *

Just after the shadow of night covered the East Coast of the American Continent, Captain Kavak’s shuttle craft swooped down to Earth then hovered above Lord McDougall’s mansion. “I hope the phasic shroud will hold this time.” Kavak didn’t trust her engineers. Concealing devices had been known to fail at the worst possible time. Like many other instruments in Anaz-voohri technology, they were old. Kavak desperately needed new machines, and only on a home planet with plenty of ore and labor could they be manufactured.

On the ship’s viewer, the private estate looked entirely bordered by a powered fence. It lay leagues away from any human activity. In the stables to the side, Kavak sensed several large riding beasts. How primitive. All around the buildings spread green meadows, surrounded by a private forest that teemed with small prey and provided absolute privacy.

Kavak didn’t want to attract the attention of the local authorities, so she’d chosen this isolated mansion for hybrid meetings. That, and the fact that McDougall was a loyal hybrid, and her regular supplier of sublime liquors… Surveying the screen, she zoomed on the front lawn, crowded with a great number of motor vehicles. Many more hybrids had gathered than she expected. Armed guards, phase-gun in hand, walked the perimeter with large dogs. More guards manned the gate to the estate.

After checking the weapons concealed under her shimmering robe, Kavak turned to her crew. “Get the ship down to the roof line and stand ready for any eventuality, phasic cannons charged. Keep an eye on the girls. I don’t want any mistakes. And don’t forget to kill the engines as soon as I get to the surface.” She’d learned of the humans’ sensitivity to the vibrations emanating from the Anaz-voohri ships. It could attract unwanted attention.

When Kavak beckoned her young aide, he nodded, and together they glided through iris hatches and tubular hallways toward the exit at the underbelly of the craft. Kavak had chosen the young Anaz-voohri for his skills as a warrior. In case of unforeseen aggression, the two of them could easily hold off any attack on the ground.

The fact that these chosen humans had been blessed with Anaz-voohri DNA before birth didn’t ascertain their unswerving loyalty. In fact, many hybrids had not been called to duty yet and lived among humans, unaware of their hybrid nature.

As they descended inside the pillar of light, Kavak smiled inwardly at her theatrics. The people on the ground couldn’t see the shrouded craft. It must seem to them as if Kavak and her aide had materialized out of thin air, coming straight down from the heavens in a rumble of thunder. Kavak had seen their religious images depicting angels coming to earth in such a fashion. She delighted in profaning human beliefs, or any other religious beliefs for that matter.

Lord McDougall and Dr. Devertas met Kavak and her aide as they reached the ground in front of the mansion.

McDougall bowed, holding his monocle. “Welcome to my humble home, Exalted Leader.”

Good thing he didn’t offer his hand, like the first time they’d met. Kavak didn’t like the feel of human skin, so warm, moist and organic. Thoroughly repulsive. “As long as you keep providing me with your wonderful spirits, you are my favorite person on this planet, McDougall.”

Devertas cleared his throat as if vying for attention. “This way, Exalted Leader. Our Eastern Cell is assembled and eager to meet you. It’s such a great honor to receive you among us.”

As she followed the two men toward the mansion, Kavak sensed their curiosity and their fright. She could use that fear to ascertain the hybrids’ loyalty. They opened the door for her.

McDougall twirled his moustache, no doubt from anxiety. “Let me introduce you first, Exalted Leader, as we do for people of importance in our culture.”

“I will conform.” Kavak liked decorum and rejoiced at the thought of making a grand entrance. All charismatic leaders used that stratagem.

McDougall entered the ballroom and Kavak heard him addressing the assembled hybrids, introducing her as their benefactor and friend from the Pleiades system. Then McDougall stated her name and title, and the door opened wide.

As Kavak floated inside, strange but dignified music filled the air. The crowd of hybrids parted to make a wide straight path from the door to the podium at the opposite end of the ballroom. They looked frighteningly human, all young, neat, handsome in a human kind of way, and disturbingly hairy. The hybrids applauded noisily, a nasty human habit that offended Kavak’s ears, but she didn’t show her annoyance. Excitement animated their faces as Kavak crossed the room, followed by her aide who didn’t float but walked, to indicate his lower rank.

Kavak wanted to make a grandiose first impression. She wanted to be feared and respected, but she also wanted to elicit enthusiasm and devotion to her cause. When she reached the podium, her aide stationed himself at the front edge and to the side, as any bodyguard would do, looking over the assembled hybrids with circumspection.

From the podium, Kavak hovered a little higher and stared at the crowd of upturned faces. She estimated two hundred hybrids. These men and women in their thirties were the result of the first Anaz-voohri intervention in human experiments. Their faces expressed pure awe and admiration.

“Greetings from the Pleiades.” Kavak projected her voice to be heard at the other end of the crowded ballroom.

The hybrids hushed, and all except her aide stared at Kavak.

“Over thirty years ago, we came to this planet and started our hybrid program by fertilizing your mothers’ wombs. You are the chosen ones, part human and part Anaz-voohri, the hope for the future of your planet and of our two races. You all look perfectly human, but you are far more advanced than any human in every way. Be proud to be hybrids, for you are the beloved children of the Anaz-voohri, and we will treat you as such.”

A sigh filled the silence, as if some great weight had just been lifted.

Kavak allowed herself a smile. Her strategy was working. “As a reward for helping us in our endeavor to bring higher civilization to this planet, you will enjoy an unlimited life span, immunity to human diseases, and the great honor of providing the seed for the future Anaz-voohri children.” Kavak paused, observing the hybrids’ reaction.

Seemingly shocked into silence at first, they soon warmed up to the idea and applauded again. Nothing like the promise of eternal life to foster loyalty. It always worked for religious leaders through the ages.

“We already have hybrids in high places.” Kavak recognized a bishop wearing a white collar and the shepherd cross on his lapel. Then she nodded to a young Major in uniform. “Since you have superior intelligence and physical skills, it is your sacred duty to become the best in your field and infiltrate, then take control of all branches of government, major industries, and religious groups in this powerful nation. We have hybrids in every country of this planet, working for us as you do, but America is the most powerful and holds the key to our success.”

“What if we prefer not to help?” A young blond man with startling blue eyes marched toward the podium, showing no fear.

Kavak sensed anger and threat in his mind, and so did her bodyguard, who moved to the front of the podium.

Devertas barred the protestor’s way, but the man shoved him aside.

Kavak’s aide fired. The protestor’s body vaporized into a cloud of ashes that fluttered down to the smooth stone floor, like dry snowflakes.

Cries of shock and surprise surged, but quickly hushed. Kavak felt the terror emanating from many in the room, but refrained from smiling.

When her aide stepped aside and returned to his place, Kavak sighed, loud enough to be heard in the shocked silence. “Any other discontents?”

No one so much as breathed.

“Good.” Kavak now smiled to soften the mood. “We’ll have to weed out those of you holding doubt in their minds. It is your duty to report such disloyal elements to Dr. Devertas.” Kavak forced another smile. “Now let’s celebrate our alliance.” She turned to McDougall. “Now would be a good time for one of your sublime drinks.”

McDougall winked. “I have just the thing, Exalted Leader.” He brought her a glass filled with an unfamiliar blue liquid and handed it to her. “One of my best so far. I call it Blue Heaven.”

The hybrids lifted their own glasses in a toast “To the Anaz-voohri!”

Kavak motioned to her aide, who discreetly analyzed the drink, not that primitive poison would affect the Anaz-voohri, but just in case. After tasting the liquor, he smiled wide and nodded approval.

Kavak raised her glass. “To our fruitful cooperation. Together we will succeed. Let’s win this planet and avoid bloodshed.”

She lied about bloodshed, of course. The Anaz-voohri thrived on bloodshed, but there would be time for that later. She tasted the sweet liqueur that glided down her polymer pipes, sizzling deliciously and warming her synthetic blood. “I’ll take a few cases of this nectar, McDougall.”

McDougall beamed at the compliment. “Certainly, Exalted Leader. As many as you like.”

Kavak tapped her glass with a long sharp nail and the room grew quiet again. “Now, the moment you have been waiting for.” She paused to keep them waiting just a little longer. “Bring forth the adoptive parents.”

Six couples and a single mother gathered in the center of the room.

Kavak still had her doubts about the missing father, the human exception. Devertas had better be right about his bright political future. “You are the chosen parents who will go home tonight with a special child, a girl who will precipitate our takeover when she reaches maturity. And until then, you will groom that child in the skills required for her particular task. Never forget that these girls are human and totally unaware of the mission programmed into their DNA. All their memories have been erased.”

When Kavak sent a pulse to her communicator, the windows flew open and several beams of light slanted inside the ballroom. In a general gasp, the hybrids vacated the center of the room where the beams converged. Only the adoptive parents remained close.

The seven girls, floated down toward the circle of parents. Now ages four to thirteen, all dressed in purple and pink pajamas, they lay asleep in mid air. They leveled off four feet above the floor, lovely in sleepy abandon, their names glittering above their heads.

“I give you the Pleiades sisters,” Kavak said, imitating the phrasing McDougall had used to introduce her. “Each adoptive couple will take their pre-assigned child to their new home. When they awake in the morning, they will have no recollection of who they are, so you can feed them the memories you prepared for them. If they give you any trouble, consult Dr. Devertas.”

Proud of herself, Kavak watched the parents carry the children out of the ballroom, then she smiled to McDougall. “How about another glass of this delicious drink? Blue Heaven, is it?”

Chapter Nine

Army Aviation School, Ft Rucker, Alabama – Fall 2006

Zack stepped out of his TH-67 helicopter simulator and landed lightly onto the hangar floor. Although the inside of the simulator looked exactly like a cockpit, the exterior resembled a giant white egg with no windows, blades, or tail. Zack grinned to the instructor coming to meet him. “How’d I do?”

The instructor nodded as he applied the stylus to his electronic notepad, epad for short. A printed sheet came out of the attached razor printer and he handed it to Zack. “The best beginning student I ever had, Lieutenant. You really have a feel for this.”

Zack took the sheet and glanced at it. Perfect score in instrument flying procedures, ground emergencies, in-flight emergencies, and weapon accuracy. “Thanks. I love that stuff. Great visual display, too. It’s like being there.”

Five simulator eggs away, Lieutenant Tia Vargas stared at her score sheet, frowning.

The instructor slapped Zack’s shoulder. “Tomorrow, we’ll get you into a live bird.”

“Awesome.” Zack’s heart raced with excitement. Who’d have guessed he’d ever pilot a helicopter?

Tia crumpled her score sheet and threw it in a trash can. She stormed out of the hangar into the Alabama sun, bright and warm even in early spring.

Zack squinted against the glare. “What’s with her?”

The instructor shrugged. “She did okay, but she seemed distracted.”

Zack wondered what could possibly distract the cool Tia Vargas. “Got to go. Black Hawk maintenance training.” He ran out to catch up with Tia. “Hey! What’s wrong?”

She didn’t slow down, didn’t glance at him, just kept walking. “I sucked.”

“The instructor said you did fine.” Zack matched her quick steps.

“Average is not fine.”

Zack shrugged. “Hey! You can’t excel at everything all the time.”

“You don’t understand. I always do.” Tia stopped and faced him, her deep brown eyes sparkling with anger. “Where I come from you don’t settle for average.”

Zack resisted the urge to smile at such pride. Who’d guessed the Lieutenant to be so touchy under the tough-girl act. “With one more training session, you’ll pass easy.”

“It’s not good enough.” Tia bit her lower lip. “As a woman officer, I have to be the best. Besides, perfection is my trademark.”

“You never failed anything in your life?”

Her face remained screwed tight. “Never...before today.”

“These are high standards to uphold.” Zack attempted a smile. “Maybe too high.”

“They are mine, okay?”

Zack shook his head. He remembered when he'd been promoted from Second Lieutenant to Lieutenant. He had to cheer her up then as well. “Listen. It’s our weaknesses that make us human. Not allowing yourself to fail now could set you up for a disaster later in life.” Zack knew his philosophical views didn’t really align with military doctrine. “You didn’t fail today.”

“It’s just as bad, I didn’t win.” She looked devastated. “Tomorrow you get to fly for real, and all I get is more simulator training.”

Although Tia was three years older and had combat experience, Zack saw her vulnerable side and felt compelled to reassure her. “Ah, but I had the unfair advantage.”

“How so?” Tia’s face lit up with surprise and hope.

“I’ve been flying helicopters on my videogames since I was ten.”

“Really?” Her face relaxed. “You’re not just saying that to make me feel better?”

“I wouldn’t think of it.” It was a lie, of course. Zack couldn’t stand to see her down and gladly made it up just to see her smile.

They started toward the next hangar where several teams busied themselves around half a dozen helicopters in various stages of disassembly.

The instructor spotted Zack and Tia as they walked in. “You two, get some coveralls and take this bird. Yesterday we disassembled, today we reassemble. Start cleaning each moving part and rebuild the bird according to the manual. I want everything in top shape.”

Zack and Tia grabbed olive drab coveralls from the pile on a bench and quickly donned them over their uniforms.

The instructor addressed all the teams. “The army’s fleet of Black Hawk helicopters, some dating as far as the 1970's, requires much maintenance to keep flying, as you can see.”

The retired Black Hawk assigned to Zack and Tia looked like a pile of junk, assembled and disassembled so many times by the inexpert hands of trainees. Zack hoped no one would ever fly it again.

“There are lots of moving parts on a helicopter, so maintenance is critical,” the instructor’s voice droned in the background.

Zack considered the parts scattered around him. “This looks a lot worse than my Kawasaki,” he whispered to Tia.

“You must also change the fiberglass hydraulic fluid filter,” the instructor went on. “This is part of routine maintenance. You will finally install an elastomeric bearing on the main rotor spindle to reduce inspection times. Call me when you are finished, or if you have any problems.”

Zack couldn’t tell which of the many parts scattered on the floor belonged to the filter assembly.

“It’s not so bad. I’ve done it before.” Tia rolled up her sleeves. “Follow my lead. I’m good at this.” She picked one part and held it up to him. “This is the first one. Find its identical brother and bring it to me.” She wiped the part with a rag.

Zack started his search around the items strewn around the chopper. He found the right segment and sat on a crate to clean it. “You know, no matter how good you are at anything, there will always be someone better than you. I learned that in Martial Arts. Believing you are the best is the surest way to get killed, because sooner or later, you’ll face someone better than you.”

Tia glared at him. “But if you actually are the best you have nothing to fear, am I right?” She seemed ready to slap him. “And low self-esteem on the battlefield can get you killed, too.” Tia threw the rag on the floor and took her head in her hands.

“Hey!” Zack had never seen her so moody. Would she actually break down? He squeezed her shoulder and sat next to her. “What’s wrong?”

She glanced up at him. “Sorry, I’m not myself lately. Ignore it.”

“What’s bothering you?” Zack feared for Tia. Special Forces and bottled up distress could mean big trouble for her. “The flight instructor said you seemed distracted.” He handed her the filter.

She rose and snatched it from his hand. “Don’t believe everything you hear.” Her attempt at a brave front didn’t fool Zack.

He wanted to help. “Don’t play tough with me. Just tell me what’s wrong.”

She sighed. “You never give up, do you?”

He flashed his most disarming smile. “You should know me by now.”

“Well, if you really want to know, I feel as if I should be doing something else, not working for the military.”

“Are you joking?” Zack couldn’t hide his surprise. “You are tailor-made for military life. What else could you possibly be doing that would fit you better?”

“I have no idea.” She spoke evenly, as if talking to herself, absorbed in fitting the filter into its cradle. “I have strange dreams. I see faces, people I’ve never met. They are calling to me, telling me I belong with them.”

Tia? Afraid of dreams? Zack thought nothing could scare her...except failure. “What kind of people?”

“I don’t really want to talk about it.” She wiped her brow with a sleeve, leaving an oil streak across her forehead. “Let’s talk about something else. What did you do for fun as a kid, besides videogames?”

Zack wondered at her sudden interest in his past. “Are you just trying to throw me off, or are you interested?”

She flashed him a coy smile. “A little bit of both.”

Zack chuckled. “Fair enough.” He went in search of his next assembly part. “Skateboarding, surfing, that kind of stuff. Then after my sister was taken, it was UFO research, the Web, martial arts and motorcycles. You?”

“Horseback riding at my father’s plantation in Venezuela during the summer breaks. Polo, High Jump competition, swim team, that sort of thing. But I always preferred the jungle. Pass me the Phillips screwdriver.”

Zack handed her the tool. The jungle evoked the wild Amazon he’d glanced naked under his foot. He turned away to hide his arousal. “What kind of plantation?”

“Coffee bean.” She took the screwdriver and returned to the task, bending just enough to offer the nicest view of her backside. “The best coffee in the world grows on our side of the Andes near the Columbian border.” There was pride for the family business in Tia’s tone. “After the Venezuelan government confiscated my father’s oil rigs, he rebuilt his fortune with Starbucks.”

“Smart man. Nothing like the American Dream.”

The instructor approached them, a disapproving look on his face. “This is not a social club. Concentrate on the task, people. Imagine that you are stranded in the desert and your only hope to get out alive is to fix that chopper as quickly as possible.”

“Yes, sir,” both said mechanically.

When Zack grinned at Tia, she smiled back. Despite their friendly talk, they were already ahead of the other teams.

* * * * *

The next day, Zack silenced his misgivings as he took the pilot seat of the Black Hawk to attempt his first emergency landing maneuver. Although he’d practiced it in the simulator, he’d heard about the test from other pilots and dreaded the real thing. Free fall in a big heavy chopper! Although the instructor could rectify the situation at anytime, pilots had died doing it, and many wet their pants or would never fly again. The fact that this particular flight instructor was prone to drinking only added to Zack’s apprehension.

The takeoff went smoothly, and when the chopper reached three thousand feet, the instructor shoved the gear in neutral. The helicopter stalled and fell straight down like a boulder. In free fall, holding his breath, Zack watched the altimeter. The seconds seemed like hours and panic threatened to overcome him, but he had to control his nerves. The maneuver requested that Zack let the bird fall until the last few hundred feet. Then the perfect timing and the right emergency maneuver should allow the Black Hawk to slow its descent, level out then land, unscathed... If all went well.

Two thousand feet and falling. Beneath him the landing field came up quickly. Zack could see the medical emergency vehicles waiting, ready to intervene. He could already envision the crash and knew there was no surviving it if he failed. He couldn’t trust the instructor to restart the blades in time. Zack had to focus.

One thousand feet. Remembering his training, Zack imagined it was only a videogame. He’d done it many times in simulation and never failed. Of course, he wasn’t shaking and swallowing bile at the time.

At exactly the right moment, Zack initiated the emergency procedure. For a second they stopped falling and hung in mid air, as if swinging from straps. The Black Hawk oscillated, leveled out then landed heavily on the tarmac with only a slight bounce on the tires.

Zack let out a long yell to release his pent up exhilaration. What a thrill, probably the biggest of his life.

Next to him, the flight instructor laughed, visibly relieved. “Congratulations!”

To avoid upsetting Tia, however, Zack kept his excitement to himself, until two days later. After Tia succeeded in the same maneuver, they went to celebrate at the Officers’ Mess.

That summer, as they finished aviation training together, Zack and Tia became good friends. Sometimes, Zack thought he read something more in Tia’s liquid brown eyes, but it never lasted, and she quickly returned to her tough soldier camaraderie.

In the fall, the time came to leave Ft. Rucker in Alabama and fly to the Johnson Space Center in Houston, Texas, for a crash course in astronaut training. For the military plane ride, Zack took the available seat next to Tia on the transport bench and buckled up. “It seems that our preparation will never end.”

She chuckled. “And when we are actually in combat, you’ll probably wish you were still in training.”

“Maybe.” Zack sighed. “It’s going to be tough, fighting such an enemy.”

“Come on... You said yourself they had weaknesses.”

“Their arrogance,” Zack blurted out. “The sons of bitches think themselves so superior, it should be easy to lure them into a trap if we use the right bait. But they have a large fleet, and superior weapons, and the ability to vanish within seconds. Once we corner them, how do we win before they pulverize us?”

“We are not there, yet. We’ll find a way.” For a brief moment, Tia looked gentle and kind.

“I sure hope so.” Something still bugged Zack. “You still have the dreams?”

The kindness disappeared from Tia’s face. “Thanks for caring, but I told you I don’t want to talk about it.”

Zack resented her rejection. Why didn’t she trust him? Was she dreaming about him? Hell, he’d dreamed about her quite a few times, but he would be hard pressed to tell her. “That’s what friends are for, you know, sharing your problems.”

“Friends?” Tia raised one brow. “Is that what we are?”

Once again, Zack wondered whether Tia might wish for more than a simple friendship, but she didn’t make it easy for him to talk about it. Besides, their exhausting training didn’t leave time for anything else. Even if they weren't in the same chain of command, and not allowed to have any kind of relationship beyond camaraderie, Zach knew Tia enough to know she would no doubt view an intimate relationship as a tactical weakness anyway. Better forget about it and focus on the mission.

Chapter Ten

Kennedy Space Center - 2007

NASA training had started with a battery of medical tests, then taken Tia and Zack’s platoon from the Johnson Space Center in Houston to the White Sands complex in New Mexico, and finally to the Shuttle Landing Facility at the Kennedy Space Center in Florida. After a four-month crash course in space travel, Tia stood with Zack in a vast briefing room of the Kennedy Space Center, with what was left of the special unit she’d trained at Camp Hell.

The General in charge of the base walked in and all saluted.

“At ease.” He smiled as he stepped up to the lectern. “I am proud of you all. We had to eliminate many recruits in our selective process, and you are the fittest for the task. I’m sure that not so long ago, when you volunteered for this special unit, none of you expected to stand in this room today, hoping to go into space for the very first time.“

Tia’s heart thumped wildly, and she glanced at Zack whose clear turquoise eyes sparkled with excitement. So the rumors were true. The time had finally come.

“As you know, there are over a hundred of you and Discovery can only take six passengers at a time. So we decided to select the first crew according to your best training performances.”

Tia held her breath. She crossed her fingers behind her back against bad luck. She had to make this first flight. She couldn’t stand the idea of not being among the very best.

The silence deepened as the commanding officer read from the paper in his hand, clipping each word. “As I state your name, please come forward.” He cleared his throat. “Lieutenant Duncan...” He paused while Zack took two steps forward

Tia’s chest threatened to burst.

“Lieutenant Vargas.”

She neatly joined Zack in front of the podium.

The General also called four other trainees who formed a line, then he smiled at the selected six. “Congratulations. From this moment on, you are officially part of the next Discovery crew.” As the gathered soldiers applauded, the General stopped their effusions with one hand. “I’m not finished. Officially, this is a routine flight to supply the International Space Station, which you will do. The mission will last only three days instead of the usual ten to fourteen. As you know, we equipped the Shuttle with torpedo tubes and laser guns. Your job is to test them in space as you have been trained to do.”

The General consulted his wrist watch. “Count down to lift off, T-Minus seventy-two hours seven minutes, ten seconds. Enjoy your last night of freedom. Tomorrow morning, you’ll report to the pre-flight astronauts’ quarters where you’ll meet your NASA pilot and mission specialist and attend your first flight briefing. Good luck.” He raised his gaze to encompass the back of the room. “There will be more flights soon, and most of you will get a chance. In the meantime, keep training.”

Tia saluted as the General stepped down and left the briefing room. The platoon exploded in applause. Someone pelted Tia’s shoulder from behind. Her comrades lifted her off the floor and carried her in triumph on sturdy shoulders out of the briefing room, along with the other chosen soldiers. Tia caught sight of Zack, who laughed good-heartedly, his head high above the sea of recruits carrying him, but she didn’t get a chance to catch his eye.

As she smiled and waved, sudden doubt assailed Tia. Would she remember in details all the exercises she’d practiced in weightlessness? How would she react to the real thing? Leaving the surface of the planet and venturing into dark space seemed suddenly reckless. So many things could go wrong. She’d seen the movies and studied the previous Shuttle disasters. What if once aloft she couldn’t return to Earth and her body drifted away in cold space forever, like in her nightmare?

A familiar dread coursed across her shoulders. Why did the very idea of space make her so uncomfortable? How would it affect her? Tia wasn’t afraid to die and she feared no enemy, but she found the idea of infinite emptiness disturbing.

The platoon went off base to celebrate that night. When offered a glass of champagne, Tia drank thankfully. She had mixed feelings about the mission and wanted to share her doubts with Zack, but not in front of the rest of the crew. Unfortunately, from now on, there would be no privacy until after the mission.

Among Cuban music rhythms, the noise of the celebration escalated, and Tia accepted a few shooters of Tequila with lime and salt. As the party went on, she spotted Zack sitting at a table by himself and went to him. “Not much of a party guy? Neither am I.” Her words sounded a little slurred, and she wondered how many shots she’d had. She never drank, so it wouldn’t take much to affect her.

As she sat across from him, she grabbed the table to steady herself. He looked so handsome and mature compared to the rest of the platoon. “You know, you never asked me out!” She smiled, surprised at her own comment.

Zack chuckled. “Are you drunk?”

“Don’t know. Never been drunk before. I feel good, though.” Tia wondered whether that qualified as drunkenness. “Seriously, did you ever want to? Ask me out, I mean.”

“That’s for me to know.” Zack smiled, his turquoise gaze fixed upon her in pure fascination. “Why the question?”

Tia sighed. “Because if you want to kiss me, it’s now or never.” She shuddered. “We could die up there, you know? Or worse...”

He laughed then took her hand across the table. “Tia Vargas, if I didn’t know you better, I’d say you are afraid.”

“Nope. Never been afraid in my entire life.” She squeezed his hand in return and realized she didn’t want to let go of him. “But you, my friend, are afraid of a simple kiss.”

“Are you challenging me?” Zack straightened in his chair, all playfulness gone from his face.

Tia winked at him. “If it looks like a challenge, sounds like a challenge, feels like a challenge...maybe be it is a challenge.”

Zack shook his head. “I wouldn’t want to take advantage of you in that state.”

“Excuses, excuses.” Her voice rose over the surrounding buzz. “I feel fine and you, sir, are a chicken.”

The celebrating soldiers nudged each other and approached the table.

Zack’s cheeks flushed as he glanced at the expectant faces surrounding them. “No one calls me a chicken to my face.”

“Chick, chick, chick, chick, chick...” Tia loved to see him squirm in front of the platoon and hoped he would break his damned cool and kiss her.

“You asked for it.” Zack rose and pulled her to her feet then took her face in both hands.

Tia stared into his eyes and her heart beat faster as she tilted her head and opened her lips slightly. Would he really kiss her? Would it be hard or tender? Imperious or submissive? Would he make her legs weak?

His face approached slowly, and she felt the warmth of his lips and the sweetness of his breath even before they touched. He smelled of Margarita and lime. The loud encouragements from their comrades drowned in a roar that faded away from Tia’s mind. She blocked out everything except the soft contact of Zack’s full lips on hers and the gentle insistence of his tongue.

Tia’s legs weakened, but Zack’s arm somehow caught her waist. She leaned into him. He nibbled her lips. When she responded, he lost his cool demeanor and dove into a passionate embrace. Finally, his fierce nature took over, and Tia rejoiced. He was wild, just as she suspected. But now she wanted more than a kiss. She craved his touch and she could feel Zack’s desire as well. Her heart beat so fast her head spun. Then she collapsed slowly into his arms and blacked out.

* * * * *

Tia awoke at dawn with a shattering headache and swore never to touch Tequila shots again. The end of the party remained fuzzy in her mind, but she remembered a mind-blowing kiss like a faraway dream. Did it really happen or was her subconscious playing tricks on her memory?

Zack’s attitude as they took the bus to the restricted area for their flight briefing revealed nothing out of the ordinary, until he asked with a little smile, “Feeling all right this morning? You were pretty smashed last night.”

Tia groaned in response. “Sorry. Did I make a fool of myself? I never drink.”

“As far as I’m concerned, you did just fine.” His mysterious smile fueled Tia’s worst fears.

“Did we really...” Heat rose up her neck.

“Kiss?” He looked so smug, she wanted to slap him.

“Well, did we?” She wasn’t sure which answer she wanted to hear.

Zack turned to the other four in the bus. “Hey guys? She’s asking if we kissed!“

The friendly guffaw told Tia they had, but to make matters worse, they were making fun of her.

”Did you guys ever!” a soldier exclaimed.

Tia clucked her tongue. “Must not have been so great if I can’t remember it,” she railed, making light of it. She wouldn’t give Zack the satisfaction of knowing she’d delighted in his embrace. Had they done more than kiss? Tia rejected the thought. Although she didn’t remember returning to their living quarters, she’d woken up in her own bunk, mercifully, with all her clothes on. Besides, the living conditions in the dorms allowed no privacy.

* * * * *

As the flight briefing went on in the small room and the experts explained the procedures on the white board, Tia couldn’t help wondering whether any Shuttle crew would ever present a real threat to the Anaz-voohri. A few Shuttles hastily equipped with light torpedo tubes and lasers seemed futile against such a powerful enemy as the Anaz-voohri.

She’d trained hard, but the fitting of such weapons for space didn’t go smoothly. There was no guarantee that they would work, or any way to foresee what kind of danger they might present for the crew and the Shuttle itself.

Tia had always felt invincible in a combat situation, and she usually trusted her training. But no matter how she looked at this particular fight, it seemed like a losing battle.

That night and the following nights in the pre-flight Shuttle crew quarters, Tia didn’t sleep well. The closer she came to the launch, the worst the nightmares became. In the dream, she floated into space, helpless, locked in some kind of water bubble, like a womb, forever lost to the human race.

Then she saw faces she didn’t know, young people like her, strong, brilliant, perfect in every way, and they beckoned to her, but Tia didn’t want to go. What did it all mean? Since when did Tia reject perfection? She’d always thrived on her quest for perfection. But something about these perfect people bothered her, and she couldn’t figure out what.

In the middle of the third night in the pre-flight quarantine quarters, the buzzer rang calling the Shuttle crew to get ready for the final hours of the countdown. They prepared their emergency air rescue packs and made sure the communication equipment worked properly.

Brimming with anticipation, Tia boarded the special van that drove the team to the launch pad. The crew remained quiet, including Zack. After the three-mile ride, they stood at the base of the launch pad and looked up to see the Shuttle looming above, coupled to the solid fuel tank. They could only go two at a time. When their turn came, she walked with Zack along the yellow-brick road, the egress route painted walkway. Then they took the elevator up the pad structure to the dizzying height of the arm level.

When Tia looked down the one-hundred-ninety-five-foot drop along the fuel tank, the world already seemed smaller. As they walked the length of the arm, like a gangplank, strange loud moans startled her.

Zack smiled. “It’s the reaction of the metal framework from the contact with the chilled tanks of super-cold propellant.”

“I know.” Tia’s heart pounded wildly. No turning back. She glanced at Zack. “This is it.”

Zack winked. “Be careful what you wish for.”

They reached the small white room, where a Shuttle-closer-crew helped them get into their suit. There was barely enough elbow room for the three of them. Zack offered to braid Tia’s thick tresses so they wouldn’t get caught into the suit collar. She accepted, grateful for the soothing contact of his hands on her hair.

In return, she helped Zack with the straps of his parachute pack. A perfect example of the futility of it all. If anything went wrong, they’d probably not need a parachute, but it was regulation.

Tia found herself wishing she had more training. After checking and rechecking all the parts of the pumpkin outfit, they crawled through the open hatch and into the Shuttle, impeded by the clumsy suit. And all the time the countdown trickled.

Still in Earth gravity, Tia’s movements felt clumsy, due to the weight of the bulky gear. Because of the vertical position of the Shuttle, she had to lie down into the seat, and although she had strapped herself many times in practice, she found it surprisingly difficult.

Tia rejoiced at the fact that Zack would be sitting next to her. She could not stay mad at him for joking about her folly the other night. She’d observed him for months now, and she’d learned to appreciate his natural kindness. Curiously, his compassion didn’t sap his strength. On the contrary, it made him stronger and gave him the kind of charisma soldiers would follow into battle without question. Today, even though they weren’t going to battle, the dangers were real, and she found his presence comforting.

The inside of the Shuttle had been modified for their specific mission. The six passengers fit in the front cabin, and the weapons had been secured with the payload in the cargo bay. For the first time in human history, as far as Tia knew, torpedoes would be launched from orbit. Of course, secret experiments never showed up in any official records, so this might never make the history books.

As the minutes ticked by, Tia tried to remember the basic Russian vocabulary they’d learned during training to communicate with their Russian counterparts on the space station. Her mind went blank. Not a very good start.

The rest of the crew slowly took their respective seats. The pilots went through the complicated checks. Would it ever end?

Tia almost choked up at the enormity of what she was about to do. Who in their right mind would want to escape our mother planet? But if the scum of the universe threatened Earth and abducted babies, Tia must fight that evil. Zack looked sober, as if suddenly realizing the dangers of their mission. His half smile looked strained.

Tia chuckled. “Having second thoughts?”

“Are you kidding? I’ve been dreaming of this all my life. I just can’t believe it’s finally happening.”

“Really?” Tia wished she felt the same.

“I hope they don’t scrap the flight at the last minute.” He looked so calm, so focused.

Tia couldn’t help thinking of Zack as hero material. His courage in front of impossible odds had made him the government’s best asset against the Anaz-voohri. He showed unusual qualities as a leader of men. Tia only had to look at the crew to see how much they respected him. So did she.

She wished Zack had returned her inebriate advances since the celebration three nights ago. But he probably wasn’t interested. To think of it, she’d never heard him talk about a woman. Could he be gay? She rejected the thought. Absence of sex life didn’t make someone gay. She was the living proof of that.

As the countdown progressed, Tia caught herself hoping the flight would be scrapped. Her heartbeat refused to slow down. Finally, when only a few minutes remained, she took a few deep breaths in a last attempt to calm herself and condition her mind for the ordeal to come.

When the countdown reached zero, Mission Control gave the go ahead. The firing of the booster rockets shook the monster assembly like an earthquake. Tia gripped the sides of her seat as the rocket lifted in a deafening roar. Pushed against the backrest, Tia feared the seats would come loose from the vibrations. She braced herself for the G-force as the rocket gained speed. Soon she was unable to close her lips as the seven Gs threatened to pull the skin off her face. Busy closing eyes and mouth, she thought of checking on Zack, but couldn’t turn her head.

After lengthy seconds full of apprehension, the Shuttle separated from the booster rockets and the tank. Then the three main engines kicked in. The G-force eased and soon, Tia knew that without the harness securing her to the seat, she would be flying away from it. Weightlessness...

The voice of Mission Control came loud and clear. “Congratulations on a successful launch. You have reached orbit. Permission to open the cargo bay doors.”

On the monitor, Tia saw the huge top half of the cargo bay open slowly, exposing the secured cargo. This maneuver would cool off the whole Shuttle from the scorching heat generated by the rocket boosters, a critical procedure. If it failed, they’d have to get back down immediately.

“Bay doors successfully open,” announced the pilot. “Rendezvous with the space station on schedule.”

As the crew rejoiced, Tia sighed with relief and all her fears disappeared into the wonder of flying. She turned her head toward the window, and the blue planet below took her breath away. So beautiful, yet so exposed… How could they ever protect it?

Next to her, Zack also stared at the visible portion of blue Earth, swept with layers of white clouds. “It seems so unreal.”

Before reaching the space station, Tia had to perform the first weapon test. Torpedoes, her specialty. As she had done many times in simulators, Tia unhooked herself from her seat and checked the seal of her suit. Then she floated toward the airlock leading to the cargo bay and went through.

When the second door opened, Tia hooked her tether to a safety cable running the length of the bay. With the upper half of the bay wide open, it felt like free floating in space. She looked up at the stars. With no protection other than her pressure suit, she might float away, like in her nightmare.

But Tia couldn’t let her fears endanger the mission. She worked hand over hand along the cable toward the torpedo cannon. When she reached it, she anchored herself to the console, then unlocked the ejection tube so it could rotate. She had to steady herself several times, as every move in zero gravity presented many challenges. Tia hoped the firing of the torpedo wouldn’t kick the Shuttle off its trajectory. One of the many untested theories of this flight.

She switched on the console and tested the tube’s rotation. “Rotation, check... Identifying target.”

As Tia focused on the console screen, all the time keeping a firm grip on the handle, the moon appeared on the viewer. What better for target practice than the pockmarked, lifeless moon. But she also had to test the weapon for precision. Struggling to keep her fears under control, Tia magnified the image of the moon to pinpoint the pre-selected crater, reading the settings as she went. “Target identified... Target locked... Awaiting orders for torpedo launch.”

Although Tia couldn’t see them, she imagined the rest of the crew surveying the monitors inside the cockpit. They expected her to succeed.

“You are okay for torpedo launch,” came the reassuring voice of Mission Control. “Whenever you are ready.”

Tia’s gloved hand stopped above the red button on the console. “Here we go.” She strengthened her grip on the handle in case of unexpected movement then punched the launch button resolutely. “Torpedo away.”

Something knocked inside the tube, then the slick projectile, like a silver egg, shot out and the cargo bay shook. She hung on for balance and watched the torpedo gliding silently toward its target at great speed.

The pilot’s controlled voice coming through her com system didn’t quite hide his apprehension. “Trajectory correction requested.”

Damn! The firing had unsettled the Shuttle after all.

Chapter Eleven

Tia hoped the trajectory could be rectified, but she couldn’t let her fears endanger the mission. She squinted to follow the torpedo, now just a silver dot in the distance against the blackness of space. No trail, no smoke, no sound, just a silent harbinger of destruction. It would take hours for the projectile to reach its target and many more hours to analyze the results. The Hubble telescope was monitoring the torpedo and would record the impact.

“Calculating Trajectory correction...” Houston acknowledged through her com system. “Sending data.”

Time for Tia to get back to the cabin. She didn’t want to be caught in the open cargo bay when the thrusters rectified the trajectory. Her nightmare fluttered at the edge of her consciousness, but she pushed it back to a far recess of her mind. She must focus on returning inside.

Concentrating on breathing in and out, she followed the cable, hand over hand, back to the hatch leading to the crew cabin, careful not to let go. In her com system, the pilot dialogued with Mission Control.

“Correction data received.” The pilot still sounded tense. “Implementing data.”

Cheers welcomed Tia when she re-entered the cockpit, and she was glad to be back inside. The pilot made the maneuver with great success, eliciting more cheers from the crew. Now it was Zack’s turn to test the laser gun for range and accuracy. At least lasers wouldn’t upset the Shuttle like the torpedo cannon did.

* * * * *

A beep from Kavak’s viewer alerted her to an anomaly. What had gone wrong now? Hidden with part of her fleet on the dark side of the moon, she couldn’t see the blue planet through the clear wall of her ship and had to rely on instrumentation.

A young male assistant appeared on her main screen. “Exalted Leader, a potentially explosive module is approaching the moon.”

“Are we under attack?” The lust of impending battle made Kavak smile, but she couldn’t afford any complication. She must stick to the plan.

“Not likely.” The assistant consulted his console. “According to trajectory and speed, the target seems to be a crater on the moon surface.”

“Could the projectile go around the moon and come seek us?”

“Unlikely, Exalted Leader. It will definitely hit the crater.”

“Why would anyone want to blow up a crater?” But more importantly, Kavak wondered who was firing and what kind of explosive they were using. She hadn’t realized the laughable human station had weapon capabilities. Of course, it was only a matter of time, and apparently the stupid substandard race had just armed their little orbiting toy.

“Could they have detected us, Exalted Leader?” Fear tinted the boy’s voice.

Kavak made a note of his cowardice. What had happened to the great Anaz-voohri warrior race? “They don’t have the ability.” She couldn’t keep the irritation from her voice. “Always remember that they are no match for our technology.” She didn’t add when the lack of maintenance didn’t cause failure.

On her screen, the face of the youth relaxed. “What should we do, Exalted Leader?”

Kavak wondered about the weapon’s target. “Could there be a strategic charge inside that crater capable of blowing up the whole moon?” If that were the case, not only Kavak’s fleet was in danger, but she could lose her perfect hiding place from prying human eyes.

“No explosives that our sensors can detect, Exalted Leader.”

“Still, I won’t take any chances. Destroy that projectile immediately!”

“Exalted Leader, I detect a primitive laser weapon on a small craft. It’s loading up now, also aimed at the moon.”

“That’s too much.” How dared these puny humans think they could fight in space? “If they fire, deflect the beam back to where it came from.” That should discourage them. When the time came, Kavak would also destroy the Space Station, the many satellites and the orbiting telescope, but for now she needed them in order to study human defenses, no matter how insignificant.

* * * * *

As he initiated the firing sequence on the laser weapon, Zack tried to remember the trick about the butterflies in his stomach. He must not suppress them, but make them fly in formation—easier said than done. Encumbered by his bulky spacesuit, he checked his tether to the cable before focusing his attention on the console.

In his line of fire he thought he saw something move against the dead surface of the moon. Enhancing the picture on the weapon’s monitor, he noticed a small vessel on a collision course with the silver torpedo fired by Tia.

“What’s that?” asked Mission Control. Apparently they observed the event on their own monitors. “This is a secure line, Lieutenant. You can talk openly. What do you see?”

“We have company.” Enhancing the image further, Zack recognized the dull golden color, smooth shape and markings. “God help us!” he whispered. “It’s Anaz-voohri.” Struggling to remain calm, he asked, “What are my orders?”

“Wait and see...” Mission Control hesitated. “Could they be friendly?”

“Negative. I know these dudes. They are vicious.”

As if to confirm Zack’s point, a light beam surged from the Anaz-voohri vessel and a bright explosion filled the viewer. When the screen cleared, Zack couldn’t see the silver projectile anymore. “They blew up the torpedo!”

“What are they doing now? Our screen is still black.”

“Nothing.” Zack struggled to control his breathing. “They’re just waiting smack in my line of fire, daring me.”

“Good. We’ll give them a run for their money and see if they can dodge a laser beam.”

Zack found the suggestion tempting. The bastards would only have a second to get out of the way. “Wouldn’t that be an open act of war? There could be repercussions.”

“Don’t worry about that. Our military is giving the order. We didn’t start this, they did. Let them know we mean business and will not be intimidated. You have orders to fire.”

Zack relished this opportunity to get back at the Anaz-voohri, but he wondered at the wisdom of it all. Something told him the consequences might be catastrophic. Heart pounding, he adjusted his aim on the alien vessel, locked on the new target and fired.

The next second, a bright flash blinded him. Had the vessel been destroyed? A beam of light zipped by, so close to Discovery that Zack instinctively dodged. “What just happened? Did they fire, back?” In his viewer, the Anaz-voohri vessel, apparently unharmed, still stood in the same spot, then it sped around the moon and disappeared behind it.

“Did you miss? Did they dodge the beam and return fire?” Mission Control asked.

“Negative.” Zack checked the sensors on his console. “They didn’t move and nothing indicates that they fired anything.”

“I can’t believe it!” Awe tinted the voice of the Mission Control man. “They actually sent back your own laser beam!”

A grizzly discovery. “Well, now we know our weapons can’t touch them.” But Zack feared the incident would make matters worse. Would it endanger his sister, assuming she was still alive? He didn’t want to think about that now.

“No point in extending this experiment any further.” Mission Control sounded matter-of-fact. “Just finish the mission, download the supplies and come right back.”

The Discovery crew kept quiet when Zack returned to the cockpit.

The voice of Mission Control wished them a good stay then paused. “The residents of the Space Station probably did not notice your unusual maneuvers. If they ask about them, it was a minor malfunction that caused the change in trajectory. Do not mention our weapons experiment. What happens outside the International Space Station is none of their business.”

“Great!” Zack couldn’t believe governments could be so stupid. This kind of thinking could only bring problems down the line. How could the world unite and arm itself if the most powerful countries kept such secrets from each other? But he wasn’t the one to decide.

The morale went up slightly when Discovery docked with the Space Station. The hatch opened, and Zack floated inside the spherical hallway ahead of Tia and the rest of the crew. Russian and French residents in blue coveralls received them warmly. Despite some language difficulties, Zack understood they yearned for company and a change of diet. Inside the station itself, there seemed to be some kind of slight artificial gravity, and they could remain in a standing position, although Zack had to hold on to the rails to remain still.

They posed for the cameras, shaking hands in greeting. Zack remembered to smile, as the recording would be posted on the Internet on many Russians websites. The station residents didn’t ask any questions about the trip, and the Discovery crew didn’t offer any details. If the cosmonauts noticed anything amiss, they didn’t mention it.

Then came the task of unloading the supplies, a light meal, and a few hours of sleep. Warm goodbyes from the residents accompanied them back to the docking port. Once harnessed in their seats again, the Discovery crew effected the trip back to Earth with a by-the-book re-entry and landing. But Zack wondered whether the Anaz-voohri would retaliate.

* * * * *

The next day, Tia noticed some tabloids talked about fumbles in space and weapon testing observed by independent astronomers, but the military denied everything, despite evidence to the contrary. The major newspapers, of course, had been discreetly silenced. After such a fiasco, the military brass needed time to rethink their strategy. Knowing the Anaz-voohri watched their every move made them nervous.

After many debriefings and a complete physical, Tia rejoiced when the returning Discovery crew was granted a few days of R&R before being sent on their next assignments. Tia intended to get a tan.

By sunrise, the soldiers had left, and the dorm looked empty. Tia stuffed a few bathing suits, shorts and tee-shirts in a bag, stealing glances at Zack who reclined on his bunk, reading instead of packing. It could be the last time they saw each other. They could be reassigned to separate units and he knew it, yet he didn’t mention it. Tia couldn’t stand the idea of never seeing him again, but refused to take the next step. She’d initiated the kiss, now it was his turn.

Zack looked up over his book, as if sensing her gaze. “Going home?”

Tia shook her head. “Not a chance, amigo. I can’t stand my mother’s badgering about my career choices. I’m thinking of some place warm with the ocean breeze and sand between my toes.”

“Miami Beach?”

“Too crowded. Maybe the Keys.” Tia zipped up her bag. “How about you?”

“The Keys sound good.” He smiled. “Would you like company?”

Tia felt elated but fought to control her reaction. Although they were alone by now in the dorm, she didn’t want Zack to think her too eager. “As a friend?” She hoped her coyness would get him wishing for more. She knew the effect she had on him, so why didn’t he make the jump?

“Is that what you want?”

But Tia wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. “We’ll see.” As long as he came along, everything would be fine. The memory of his kiss still burned on her lips. He’d definitely responded with unexpected passion, and she’d find a way to recreate the magic. “You’ve got wheels?”

“If you don’t mind the Kawasaki. I had it shipped three weeks ago, just in case.” He winked. “Better pack light, though. Not much space for luggage.”

“Let’s do it.” Tia’s whole body flushed with warmth at the idea of riding behind Zack on a motorcycle.

He rose with nonchalance. “Should we take the helmets? They aren’t required in Florida.”

Tia struggled to hide her excitement. “Nah. I like the wind in my hair.”

“So do I.” He smiled. “Besides, you know the only thing a helmet guarantees, don’t you?”

“No, what?”

“An open casket funeral.”

Tia smiled at his macabre humor. “I don’t intend to die.” She wondered what else they had in common and intended to find out.

“We’ll cruise the old road along the coast. No daredevil stunts, I promise.” His eyes sparkled with merriment.

“You don’t really strike me as a daredevil.”

Zack chuckled. “My folks wouldn’t agree with you, and they don’t even know what I’m really doing these days.”

* * * * *

As he started the Kawasaki, Zack wondered how he’d fare alone with Tia for several days. She looked hot in low rise designer jeans revealing a perfect navel under a peach tank top. Her long dark hair framed her face, and her eyes hid behind mirrored sunglasses. A pleasurable chill ran across his skin when she mounted the bike behind him. Adjusting his own shades, he revved the engine and slowly rolled out of the NASA facility.

The morning sun rose higher, heating his skin, but the breeze cooled off the burn. Zack enjoyed the firm grip of Tia’s arms around his waist, the vibrations of the machine under him, and the wind blowing her fragrant long hair around his head. He recognized the familiar sweetness of gardenia. It was definitely her shampoo.

Although he hated to admit it, Zack would miss Tia if they were assigned to different units. Whether they agreed or fought or planned strategies, he had grown accustomed to her presence. Life would seem dull without her.

But would they get along away from their consuming mission? A rich Latina and a surfer geek. What could they possibly have in common? Lobo used to say that if a relationship of any kind could weather a long road trip, it could weather anything. In the four hundred miles between Cap Canaveral and the Keys, Zack intended to test that theory.

The distance melted too fast under the summer sun. To the left, sand beaches and the scintillating ocean beckoned, but Zack could wait. The flat coast seemed strange to him. The Atlantic looked so green. He missed the blue pacific and the California surf.

They stopped for lunch in Palm Beach, had dinner in Miami then decided to press on to Key Largo in the sunset. Riding on the endless low bridges felt like boating on the flat sea. When they reached the Keys, they saw tourists and residents enjoying the late evening around bonfires in small coves encased between sharp rocks. In some places rocky beaches lined both sides of the road.

The hotel on the shore looked like a Victorian house with bay windows facing the beach. Zack dropped Tia at the front door, then parked the Kawasaki. As he carried the luggage to the reception, he found Tia smiling devilishly.

“Guess what? They only have one room left. A room with only one bed.”

Exhausted by the trip, Zack felt confident he could safely sleep in the same room alone with Tia. “I’ll take the floor, you can have the bed.” The wood floor couldn’t be much worse than the cots of Camp Hell. “I’ll find another room in the morning.”

Tia looked disappointed. When it came to the female psyche, Zack found it difficult to read the signs. Did she expect him to find another room tonight? After all, he had invited himself, she hadn’t asked him. But he wasn’t about to apologize. Exhausted by the drive, he just wanted to crash and sleep.

When Tia went to take a bath, Zack stripped to his boxers then rolled himself into a blanket on the rug. Although tired, he couldn’t fall asleep and closed his eyes when she came out of the bathroom and went to bed. What an idiot he was. She probably wanted him as much as he wanted her. What made him so insecure? But Tia had already fallen asleep. He’d lost his window of opportunity.

* * * * *

The hard floor, the first morning rays, and the sound of breakers on the beach through the open window awoke Zack at sunrise. He rose slowly, impeded by a major erection. Tia still slept on the bed, tangled in the sheets. What he could see of her tan skin in the lovely abandon of sleep suggested that she might be sleeping nude, which only compounded his problem.

Embarrassed at the idea that she could wake up any second, he grabbed his shaving kit and rushed to the bathroom. He took a long hot shower, enjoying the steam and the relaxing downpour. Shaven and refreshed, confident he could now face Tia without unseemly reaction, Zack wrapped a towel around his waist and re-entered the room to fetch clean clothes.

Tia sat at the table in a bright yellow bikini more revealing than any he’d ever seen on a beach. “Hope you don’t mind. I ordered breakfast.”

On the table, scrambled eggs, fresh fruit, orange juice and coffee, and a stack of pancakes smelled wonderful, but Zack couldn’t help staring at her. Neglecting to get dressed, he sat gratefully to hide his growing lust and attacked the food.

* * * * *

Tia observed Zack with amusement. She couldn’t get over his insatiable appetite and wondered how he would cope with her shameless seduction plan. Since he’d offered to accompany her, she had the next move. “Don’t stuff yourself. We are going for a swim. I bet I’m faster than you.”

He held up his hand while he finished chewing. “You are so wrong. I’m a surfer, remember? Water is my element.”

“We’ll see.” No one had ever beaten Tia in her swim team as a child. The ocean couldn’t be that different from an Olympic pool. But just to give him confidence, she was prepared to let him win. She rose and straightened the sheets on the bed, bending over just a little more, aware of his stare checking out her skimpy bikini bottom. The tiny thing from Victoria’s Secrets, one she’d never wear in public, was working miracles.

He cleared his throat, as if he’d choked on his pancakes. “Maybe I should find another room, first.”

Was he serious? When would he come to his senses? Now that she’d made up her mind, Tia certainly hoped he wouldn’t wiggle out. Once reassigned, they could be separated, and Tia would never fogive herself if she didn’t act upon her feelings now. To hell with regulations.

She composed her face as she rose and struggled to sound casual. “What’s the rush? Check in time is three in the afternoon. No room will be available before then.”

She found the surprise on his face priceless.

Tia fetched a tube of sun block and handed it to him. “Can you help me get this on my back? I don’t want to be the lobster at dinner tonight.”

She undid the straps of her bikini top, barely holding in place the scant fabric covering her nipples, then winked. Zack gasped. Reassured, Tia presented her bare back to him and smiled inwardly. Lieutenant Zack Duncan had already lost this battle.

* * * * *

Had she just winked at him? Was that an invitation? Zack found it difficult to believe. Tia certainly wasn’t drunk, and a fearless woman like her would go straight for what she wanted. She hadn’t slept around in all the months he’d known her, so it wasn’t about casual sex. Could Tia have stronger feelings for him than friendship? Why would she break regulations otherwise? The thought made his whole body flush with heat, and his erection ached.

Good thing Tia stood with her back to him. He rose and squeezed sun block into his hand, rubbed his palms together, then took a deep breath before touching her flawless skin. The contact increased his embarrassing reaction. He couldn’t believe how smooth her skin felt under his fingers, how supple the contours of her chiseled muscles. She moved sensuously under his touch, like a cat caressing herself against his hands.

His body wanted her, but his mind clamored with warnings. What if he were wrong about this? He didn’t care if she kicked his butt, but it would destroy their friendship, and he didn’t want to risk it. The only safe route was to ask.

Zack swallowed hard to gather his courage. “You’re driving me crazy.” He found it difficult to breathe. “It’s not like you to play games, Tia. What do you want from me?”

She turned and faced him, an expression of triumph on her face, then she dropped the bikini top. “Men can be so dense.” Grabbing his shoulders, she fell backwards on the bed, pulling him down with her.

Zack offered no resistance and landed on top of her. “We could get in serious trouble for this.”

“I know.” She chuckled. “I’ve wanted to get you in this exact position since our first hand to hand combat demonstration.”

The memory of the wild Amazon he’d glimpsed that day overwhelmed Zack. He couldn’t think anymore. One hand had found Tia’s firm breast, another kneaded the small of her back, and he kissed her throat going upward, searching for her mouth. When he found it, her soft lips parted to let him in. He drank from her, overwhelmed by the scent of gardenia, and thought he would drown in sweetness.

Finally he came up for air. “I’m not an expert at this...” Zack could barely remember his few experiences with loose college girls. This felt so different, so right and yet so dangerous. What if he blew it? He couldn’t afford to lose Tia.

“You are doing fine, Lieutenant.” She tugged at the towel around his waist. “Practice makes perfect.”

He lifted his hips to help her unwrap him. “I like the way you think, but you do scare me a little.”

“I have that unfortunate effect on men.” Tia traced his pectorals and the line of his shoulders, sending shivers across his skin. “But I know you can handle it.”

For Tia, Zack could handle anything. He pulled at the side strings of the bikini and the knots fell undone. Bathed in morning sunlight, she looked golden, her skin shiny with sun oil. Her smile illuminated her soft brown eyes. God, he wanted her.

Ignoring his urgency, Zack wanted to give her pleasure first. Despite his lack of practice, he’d done intensive research on the matter in college. But when he tried to remember the sound advice of Dr. Love on finding a woman’s G-spots, he drew a blank and decided to follow his instinct. He kissed her breasts then the valley between them, working his way down, teasing her navel on his way to the dark patch below. Delicately, he separated the moist petals of her womanhood then nibbled with gentle insistence.

Her fingers tangled in his hair, Tia moaned and squirmed as if to escape his ministrations, but he tightened his grip on her hips until she roared like a jungle cat. And even then he didn’t let go.

Finally, she pulled him by the hair up to her level and bit his lower lip in a savage kiss that sent flaming bolts through his groin. “Give me twenty. Right now,” she whispered against his cheek.

“Only twenty?” His fingers explored her warm slippery vault. “I’m going to give you a hundred, and that’s only for starters. Then we’ll see...” He pressed against the entrance of her opening and with great effort remained still, just to make her want him more.

“Te quiero.” Her fingers tensed against the muscles of his back.

She gasped as he entered her in a slow, powerful thrust. Surrounded by her warmth, he felt her core contract around his member, as if to prevent him from getting out. He kept a slow rhythm as long as he could, enjoying her pleasure and her heat as she growled with each thrust.

Drunk with this new power over her, Zack barely noticed when she accelerated the tempo. That, along with Tia’s climax drove him to the brink of madness. Ready to explode, he wanted to retreat, but Tia held his butt in a vise, refusing to let him go. The flood overcame him and she rode his tremulous release with him.

Even afterwards, she didn’t let go of him. “Let’s keep doing it.”

“Right now?” Zack panicked at her uncommon appetite. “I need a few minutes.”

“Sorry.” She smiled sheepishly then cuddled against him. “Hold me, corrazon. I want to sleep with you just like this.”

How could he resist her? He kissed her shoulder then buried his face in her hair and breathed in the heady scent of gardenias. “I could stay like this forever.”

* * * * *

The week in Key Largo flew by like a honeymoon dream, and Zack never wanted it to end. For the first time since his sister’s abduction, he’d lightened up and enjoyed swimming, snorkeling, boat trips over the reef, walks along the shore, and seafood dinners by moonlight. The torrid nights with Tia in the hotel room sometimes went on for most of the day as well.

Unfortunately, the time came to return to the base and receive their new assignments. Zack found it difficult not to be depressed. What kind of future could he possibly hope for? A tryst between two professional soldiers couldn’t possibly last. He and Tia might never see each other again, except for a few days each year. Not enough to keep a relationship alive.

So when Zack opened his envelope and discovered he was promoted to Captain and given his own unit, he immediately glanced at Tia.

“Congratulations, Captain.” She flashed a smug smile. “Ordinarily, I would be pissed at getting passed over. But given the circumstances, I’ll take it as a sign from above.” She gave him a sexy salute. “Meet your Second In Command, Lieutenant Tia Vargas.”

“My Second In Command?” Zack didn’t dare rejoice, yet.

Tia scoffed. “It’s not like I have a choice in the matter.” She gave him a sizzling look that reminded him of their last night in Largo. “The way I see it, it’s fate. It means we are destined for each other. But there is a catch.”

“Isn’t there always?” Zack wanted to pick her up and throw her in the air, but he didn’t dare show his feelings on base. Besides, something told him the catch part would be a bitch. “Spill it.”

She sighed and scanned the room. Even though no one else lurked in the dorm, she whispered. “If the military ever learns that something’s going on between a captain and his first in command, it’s not just professional suicide, it’s instant Court Martial.”

Was anything ever perfect? How he wanted to plant a big kiss on her soft lips. But he controlled himself. They’d have to keep their love secret. “It won’t be easy.”

As long as they remained close to each other, however, Zack didn’t mind. Anything but separation. “It’s going to be hard pretending not to care.”

Tia smiled. “We can still tell each other how we feel.”

“How?”

“When I was a kid, I found a cool code on the internet to correspond with my brother Felipe.” Tia’s smile vanished at the mention of her dead brother.

“You loved him very much, didn’t you?”

“Yes.” She took a deep breath. “My parents never suspected our secret communications. The code is supposed to be unbreakable. I’ll give it to you.”

“Now?”

“It’s simple. Look.” She took out her electronic pad and punched a few keys. “There it is. Give me your epad and I’ll transfer the code.”

“How does it work?” He handed her his epad.

Tia linked the two devices together and pushed a key to download the program. “Just write your message, translate it through the program, then send it. I’ll translate it back at the other end and vice-versa. Nothing to it.”

* * * * *

Zack’s unit shipped out to Afghanistan that morning. He’d met most of his soldiers at Camp Hell during training. Tia took her role of Second In Command very seriously. As the others in the team knew and feared her, Zack wouldn’t have to deal with disciplinary measures, something he didn’t like much.

Then started a series of official and unofficial missions, from hostage rescues in Iraq to the jungles of South America, where Tia’s experience and language skills proved invaluable.

But Zack had made a solemn promise to his sister. With each passing month his frustration grew, as rescue or revenge seemed to slip farther from his reach. Occasionally, his unit would attend special training in new weapons and practice some of the skills they didn’t use in traditional warfare, but it never seemed enough.

Zack spent all his free time off base, sneaking out to meet Tia in secret for some very private R&R. No one ever suspected their relationship. Whenever the FBI or the CIA requested Zack to examine or analyze some alien piece of technology found after a UFO crash or a sighting, Tia would take over his command for a few days.

They had been in Afghanistan for six months when the message popped on Zack’s epad one morning, and it made him shudder with foreboding.

Dear Zack Duncan, if you ever want to see your sister alive, please be at these coordinates at sunset in two days for a chat, and make sure to come alone.

Latitude and longitude codes followed. The message was signed, Captain K.

Chapter Twelve

Ashley was alive! The first news of Ashley in two years since her psychic communications had stopped. Alone in the barracks, Zack reread the message. Despite the sinister tone, his hopes soared again.

The email couldn’t come from official sources, the syntax didn’t fit the concise military style, and they would have used his rank and last name only. Still, he wondered who could have infiltrated the government firewalls. Wracking his brain, Zack couldn’t remember ever meeting a captain whose name started with a K. And who on Earth would have control over his sister?

Did Captain K have connections with the Anaz-voohri? Zack couldn’t believe humans would side with an alien foe. Or could the message come directly from the Anaz-voohri? He flinched at the thought. If they monitored secret military communications, there was no hope to surprise them. He’d have to warn the General in charge to protect the codes better.

Zack only had two days. Due for a break, he’d planned on spending it with Tia. He checked the coordinates of the rendezvous on the topo map, a mountain range in the middle of the Afghani desert, a day’s ride and half a day’s climb from where he was stationed. The perfect place to land a spacecraft, away from prying eyes and from any human activity.

After warning the higher ups and sending a coded email to Michalski, the former FBI agent now part of the secret committee in charge of anti-Anaz-voohri operations, Zack didn’t feel any better. He’d sent the coordinates and requested Air Force fighting jets stand by. That’s all he could do. He couldn’t wait for a reply or call on the phone for lack of a secure line. Besides, the note said he should come alone.

Pushing away his apprehension, Zack went to the motor pool and put in a request for a motorcycle. From the armory he borrowed several explosive devices, selected his weapons and threw them into a bag.

As he finished packing, Tia walked in, surveying the room. “Going somewhere?”

Zack glanced up. He rejoiced at the chance to talk to her alone before leaving. “Don’t worry. The whole unit is still at breakfast.”

She kissed him lightly on the cheek. “I thought we weren’t leaving until tomorrow.”

“My plans just changed. Sorry, I can’t make it.”

“Why?”

He showed her the message and explained the situation.

“You can’t just go solo, it’s too dangerous.” She pulled out her knapsack. “I’m coming with you, corrazon. Someone has to watch your back.”

Of course, she was right, but Zack couldn’t let her be killed, or taken and tortured by the Anaz-voohri. “I’ve got to do this alone, it’s important. I’ve worked toward this moment for years. This is my first shot at rescuing my sister. I can’t afford to botch it.”

She frowned.

Zack would give his life to save his sister, but he couldn’t live with Tia’s death on his conscience. Although as soldiers they faced the possibility every day, this mission was personal. “I have more than enough backup. I need you to stay with the unit.”

“But I...” She stared at him a challenge in her eyes.

“No buts. It’s an order.”

Her body stiffened like each time he pulled rank on her, but she didn’t argue. Discipline was the only rule Tia fully understood.

“I’m sorry,” he said to soften the blow. “But if I don’t make it back, someone will have to take over the fight, and no one is better qualified than you.”

Tia saluted. “Aye, Captain.” She faked a loud sigh. “I’d prefer to be over there with you, but I do understand. I’ll stick with the troops.” When Zack’s face closed like that, she knew she couldn’t get through to him, so she wouldn’t even try.

Tia didn’t mind taking orders from Zack, most of the time anyway. He was always fair and consulted her when he had any doubts, but she couldn’t let him go alone on a suicide mission to meet Anaz-voohri sympathizers or worse.

Disobeying a direct order could cost her career, but to protect Zack she would chance anything. Besides, it wouldn’t be the first time. Her very relationship with him had proved disastrous for her military career. She’d lost her command to him and would face Court-Martial if their relationship were uncovered. Now, she would ignore a direct order? But she couldn’t let him go without watching his back.

Michalski’s jet fighters would be on standby, minutes away, but too far to prevent Zack from getting killed. Tia wanted to be there with him, and she had a devilish idea to make that happen.

Shading her eyes from the morning sun, she watched Zack drive away on the motorcycle, raising a cloud of fine sand in his wake. As soon as he disappeared from view, she took out her epad and punched in the message engraved in her dependable memory, including the precise coordinates.

Within half an hour, Tia had gathered the whole unit in the dorm, fifty soldiers. “We have a special mission of the highest importance. It’s dangerous, top-secret, and no one on the base must suspect anything about it.”

She saw a few troops smile at the prospect. They loved that kind of semi-official mission. No rules, no questions asked. Free reins on the means. All that mattered was the outcome.

“Everyone pack your desert gear, weapons, climbing gear, water, rations, but act and dress as if you’re going on leave to Kabul for a spin.”

“Where are we going, Lieutenant?” The soldier caught himself then looked down. “Sorry.”

Tia glared at him. “Didn’t I say top secret?” She scanned the rows of jarheads with a challenging gaze, thankful for the option of keeping her long tresses. “Any more questions?” Of course, they knew better than to ask.

The troops stood at attention, no one as much as breathed. No soldier dared to mess with Lieutenant Tia Vargas. She suppressed a smile. She had to maintain her reputation as a merciless dragon, if only to prevent them from getting too close and probing into her personal life. “The captain went ahead, and you’ll be briefed about the target after we leave the base. Be ready in front of the barracks at ten hundred hours. Trucks will be waiting.”

* * * * *

Zack felt like a fool, riding toward what could only be a trap, but he didn’t have a choice. This was personal. He’d waited to meet face to face with his sister’s captors ever since her abduction, and he would not fail her now. As for what awaited him on the top of that mountain, he trusted his training and the latest weapons in the human arsenal to give him an edge. Other than that, he had no clue what to expect.

Following his progress on the GPS clipped to the gas tank, Zack swallowed the miles north. He rode through the unmapped desert all day. In the absence of roads, the vibrations shook his body like a constant jackhammer. By nightfall, exhausted, he reached the southern foot of the mountain. He could barely stand once he dismounted the bike.

It would be stupidly dangerous to attempt the climb by night in his state of fatigue. He’d start at dawn. After concealing the motorcycle behind an outcropping of rocks, Zack wrapped himself in a blanket, leaned back against a boulder, laid his rifle beside him, and promptly fell asleep.

* * * * *

Tia didn’t want Zack to know she followed him, so she’d chosen a roundabout way to the mountain. While the three vehicles rode across the rocky desert, she’d gone from truck to truck, briefing her team. Then she’d ordered them to gear up and rest as much as possible.

She assumed Zack would remain south of the range, following the shortest route. So she directed the convoy to the opposite slopes to the north. They reached their destination four hours after nightfall.

Tia ordered the trucks parked in a gully under radar-deflecting camouflage then she designated three sentries. “The rest of you follow me to the top with the equipment.” She’d smuggled the portable equipment out of the base and didn’t want to think what would happen if the brass ever found out about it. But she couldn’t let Zack face this particular enemy without big guns.

Knowing Zack, he wouldn’t attempt the climb after a long motorcycle ride on the uneven desert floor. Not everyone had Tia’s exceptional constitution. She’d found that out during special missions that tested their endurance, but she had no explanation for it. She concluded she was a freak of nature, although she’d never admit it to anyone, not even Zack.

She climbed ahead of the team, surveying the landscape through her night goggles. Small desert creatures scurried away at their approach. The chilly night at this altitude fogged her breath. She led the unit, glad for the rigorous training that resulted in such sure-footed troops.

Setting a slow, regular pace, she let her body do the work and allowed her mind to wander. Images surged at the edge of her consciousness. Anaz-voohri designs. Pictures Zack had shown her? No. She remembered being a child, her mother sobbing at her father’s desk, doodling on the pad... Anaz-voohri doodles... Her mother’s claim of abduction by aliens had haunted Tia’s dreams more and more lately. What if the claim were true? What would it say about Tia? Was it why she felt so different? She refused to consider the possibilities. She didn’t want to answer that question.

Tia came back to reality as they reached the top of the mountain. A four-hour climb. The sun would rise soon. She directed the team to set up and conceal the batteries of bazookas and handheld missile launchers. Then they took cover and camouflaged themselves, so they wouldn’t be detected from the air or by anyone climbing the south slope or exploring the immediate vicinity of the summit.

Let the scum come, human or otherwise. With Tia’s team in control of the perimeter, Zack stood a better chance at survival.

* * * * *

The sun rose pink, and Zack shook the night chill from his stiff muscles by jumping up and down, flailing his arms and slapping his sides. With the sky of such an angelic lavender hue, one could almost believe this world to be a safe, happy place. After a few calisthenics, feeling and warmth returned to his body. He ate an energy bar, drank some water, then picked up his backpack full of equipment and started up the slope.

Zack wanted to get there early to set a few booby-traps. Although his solo expedition might seem reckless, his military training gave him an edge. He wasn’t the scared teenager of his first encounter with the Anaz-voohri, not anymore. Besides, this was supposed to be a meeting, not a battle, and Zack hoped it would prove fruitful.

The mere fact that the enemy wanted to talk indicated some kind of weakness. Why did they care? Was it personal for them, too? If it was, then they acted more human than previously thought, and Zack found the idea somewhat reassuring.

Whatever he was, Captain K would no doubt come from the sky. Zack saw no other way up the mountain without making a perfect target. He buried explosive devices in various parts of the eroded summit, an almost flat area roughly fifty by ten meters. If a ship landed there, it wouldn’t be a huge one and that would destroy it.

Zack checked the remote controls in each pocket of his desert fatigues, memorizing which one controlled which explosive charge.

When finished, he checked his epad for messages. None from Tia. A coded line from Michalski just said Standing by with a number to give the signal to launch the Top Guns. Good old Michalski fully understood Zack. He might be the only one besides Tia. Zack chuckled. The whole military space arsenal must be on the lookout for an incoming UFO.

As Zack waited for sunset in the shade of a boulder, his thoughts returned to Tia. Why hadn’t she emailed? It wasn’t like her. She always sent him a few coded words when they were apart. Short messages that told him she thought about him.

As the day wore off and the sun finally dipped on the western horizon, a strange vibration shook the ground, almost like an earthquake, or the deep rumble of thunder. But Zack could see nothing in the sky or anywhere near. The sound intensified, and Zack covered his ears. He started to fear he’d made a terrible mistake. Was he the target of some faraway weapon he couldn’t even detect? He smelled burned rubber, like the night of his sister’s abduction.

The vibration diminished and a wide pillar of light opened in front of him. Looking up, Zack saw only clear sky. No ship. Where did the beam come from? When a young girl glided slowly inside the beam toward the ground, he held his breath. Dear God, could it be?

Ashley! She had grown so much in over four years. She looked stronger and healthier than he remembered. Her blond hair had darkened slightly. Her skin had lost its California tan. The clear blue eyes that stared at him as she descended to his level seemed strangely detached. Her face remained grave, and Zack realized she held a weapon loosely aimed at him.

“Ashley! It’s me, Zack. Don’t you remember me?” Of course, he had become a man. Maybe she didn’t recognize him in uniform.

“I am Ashley.” The voice, too, sounded detached. Behind her, the beam of light vanished.

“I’m so glad to see you. I’ve been looking for you all these years. Come with me. I’ll take you home.”

“What home?” She gazed upon the golden desert bathed in sunset. “This planet is the home of our ancestors.” Her coldness came as a shock.

“Yes it is. Are you okay?” He stepped forward but she stepped back.

She raised the small weapon and pointed it at his heart. “Captain Kavak has a message for Zack.”

“Captain Kavak?” So that was the infamous Captain K. “I am Zack. Don’t you remember me?”

“You should stop looking for me. I’m different now.”

Different indeed, all grown up, and strangely disconnected from any emotion.

“If you keep looking for me, I will die, and you will die as well. You must stop plotting against us.”

Us? “But you are not one of them, Ashley. You are my little sister, you are human.”

She wrinkled her nose, an affectation he remembered from her childhood. ”I certainly hope not. Humans are substandard. They must be eliminated.”

* * * * *

Tia couldn’t hear what they said but the girl looked human enough, although she held what looked like an alien weapon. Was that his sister Ashley? She looked the right age, about eleven. Zack didn’t seem threatened, but Tia wouldn’t take any chances.

She trained her weapon on Ashley. Pressure in Tia’s chest restrained her breathing. She found herself unwilling to pull the trigger or give the order to attack. Attack what? The beam of light had come from nothing she could see. Was the ship somewhere in orbit? Was it just above them, cloaked by some advanced technology?

Calculating the height from which the beam had come, Tia whispered in her com system, “There must be an object at the top of that light beam, although we cannot see it, it should be about twenty feet up. Fire at will!”

A barrage of projectiles rained on the target and exploded on something that shimmered like a magnetic shield. Intermittently, for a fraction of a second, the craft became visible, like inside a surreal bubble.

“Keep firing,” Tia ordered, then she aimed at Ashley. It didn’t matter that she was his sister, her threatening attitude endangered Zack.

* * * * *

The artillery fire jolted Zack from the living nightmare. He pressed a remote to send the signal for the air attack, wondering at the land forces surrounding him. Where had they come from? And how?

The young girl who had once been Ashley, looked upon him with cold rage. If this was the Anaz-voohri’s revenge against him, they’d succeeded. They’d turned his own sister into his enemy.

Anger took hold of Zack, and since he couldn’t harm his innocent sister, he turned his weapon toward the sky and fired. Mad at God, he wanted to strike whatever force had taken a young girl and turned her against her own kind.

“You betrayed us,“ Ashley said, her blue eyes turning to steel. ”You do not deserve to live.”

Zack didn’t have the heart to shoot her. He gasped when a sharp shot exploded, and Ashley collapsed at his feet.

When Zack reached for his sister, she stood up and leapt away from him, as if the shot had not really harmed her.

“Your weapons are useless against us.” The light beam reactivated, and Ashley ascended out of his reach. Shots exploded all around, but none seemed to reach her.

The sky blazed with fighter jets, and Zack caught a glimpse of the hidden vessel hovering behind some sort of cloak. Tears blurring his vision, he emptied his cartridge on the craft above. Then the vessel took off at incredible speed, the Air Force fighters hot on its trail. The artillery ceased, leaving the area eerily silent.

Then Zack had the most welcome sight, Tia, with his whole unit, come to cheer him up.

“I thought I told you to remain with the troops.” No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t sound stern.

Tia saluted with a smile. “I never left their side, Captain.”

“Who shot Ashley?” Zack asked as Tia relaxed her stance.

“Not the faintest idea.” Her face remained unreadable, but Zack didn’t want to pry. He hated the thought of the two most precious girls in his life killing each other, but even if Tia had fired that shot, she’d done the right thing. Still, Zack loved his little sister, no matter what she had become.

Chapter Thirteen

Two years later, 2009

Fidgeting on his seat at the long table in a conference room of the Pentagon, Zack recognized a few of the government officials attending the briefing. He sat next to Michalski, the ex FBI agent, whom he now considered as a friend and a strong ally. CIA agents and even representatives from the oval office attended. Someone stifled a cough at the back of the room.

“Something crucial must have happened to get the President’s goons here,” Zack whispered to Michalski.

Michalski nodded. “Where did they pull you out of this time?”

“Pakistan.” Zack was glad to have someone to talk to. “I rushed to board the military plane from Islamabad to Washington as soon as I got the call.”

“It’s been years since we recorded any alien activity.” New lines of worry had appeared on Michalski’s face. He looked older. “I hope it’s not the beginning of an escalade. I started to think the Anaz-voohri might have moved to better pastures.”

Zack shook his head. “We should be so lucky.”

As more attendees took their seats at the conference table, Zack couldn’t help thinking about Tia. He’d left her in charge as usual. Their relationship had blossomed and strengthened over the past years, but Zack didn’t like being separated from her, even for a short time. She’d become more of a daredevil with each successful mission, as if she believed herself invincible, a dangerous attitude for a professional soldier. She’d been lucky so far, but Zack feared for her life.

The room grew quiet when the General in charge of evaluating, among other things, the Anaz-voohri threat, entered. The man looked worried as he stepped up to the head of the table, shuffling his papers and finally setting them down.

“You have been called to this secret meeting because the alien threat we thought had passed just became manifest.”

Zack held his breath. Here it came...

“We have reasons to suspect recent activity in this location.” The General turned to the map displayed on the wall screen. It represented the Sahara desert in Northern Africa. With a laser pointer, he circled a mountainous area in southern Algeria near the Nigerian and Libyan borders. “These mountains constitute the Hoggar.”

On the wall screen appeared pictures of strange rocks, like prehistoric towers emerging from the sand, crowding the bottom of deep, sandy canyons.

“These unique formations represent the lava cores of ancient volcanoes. The surrounding volcanic cones have long since eroded, leaving these strange columns. As you’d expect, these canyons are riddled with caves.”

Zack couldn’t help but think of an alien landscape. All bare rock and no sign of life. One of the columns, shaped like a mushroom with a semi-spherical hat, seemed to bear archaic markings, but Zack couldn’t make them out.

“Our satellites have measured unusual radiation emanating from one of these canyons. The same energy signature we once studied coming from an alien weapon found years ago at an Anaz-voohri crash site.”

“You think there are alien weapons stored in these canyons?” Zack realized he’d spoken out of turn.

The General didn’t seem to mind. “We have to assume that’s what it is, and for their energy source to show on the satellite scanners, there must be a great number of them. Usually the natural rock can mask these energy traces, but this must be a huge hoard.”

“Why would the Anaz-voohri store weapons on Earth?” Michalski asked.

“Good question.” The General cleared his throat, as if to give himself time to think. “But just as important, who are they destined for?”

Zack stepped in. “I assume you have a theory?”

The General nodded and smiled at the comment. “We have several. Is a Mujhehadin or Al-Qaeda, or Hezbollah faction helping the Anaz-voohri in exchange for weapons? Are the Anaz-voohri recruiting and arming human sympathizers in preparation for a takeover? Or are the weapons intended for Anaz-voohri warriors when they launch a ground attack? Whichever the case, we cannot allow these weapons to be distributed.”

A CIA agent raised his hand. Zack had met him once on his initial briefing. It seemed eons ago. “How long have the weapons been there?”

“Less than twenty-four hours. We called this meeting as soon as we learned of them.” The General in charge surveyed the faces around the table. “We must seize them immediately and secure them before they fall into enemy hands.”

“Any unusual activity in the area recently?” asked a General with a battery of medals on his uniform.

“The reports mention only a few Touaregs in Land Rovers driving groups of tourists to and from the canyons. The terrain is difficult, so the weapons must have been flown in. This is an Algerian national park guarded by rangers. We observed nothing out of the ordinary. No military activity of any kind.”

Zack didn’t trust all information coming from the military brass. During his years of duty among Special Forces, he’d learned that everyone had an agenda. Even Zack, whose main reason for being in this fight was to rescue his sister. As he saw it, any ranger, guide, or tourist in that specific area at that particular time must be considered suspect.

* * * * *

Zack met Tia and ten select members of his team aboard an Air Force carrier ship in the Persian Gulf. He briefed them on the HALO jump, high altitude, low opening maneuver they would have to perform to avoid radar detection. After nightfall, in full commando gear, they boarded a stealth Nighthawk bound toward the Sahara desert. On his epad GPS, the weapon hoard appeared as a pulsing red dot. His team, tagged with specific trace pulse devices, showed as blue dots on the satellite locator.

Zack checked the straps of his parachute. “Get ready!”

“I love this.” Tia sounded thrilled about the dangerous jump.

“Eighteen thousand feet,” Zack said in his com system to test it. “We’ve done it before, but be careful. That’s a long way in free fall.”

A soldier close to him smiled in anticipation.

“Sorry guys,” Zack said as a joke, knowing they all enjoyed that kind of stunt. “The pilot has orders not to attract attention. So, you open your chutes only when you reach one thousand feet.” That was risky, but necessary. “Even black parachutes can be seen against a clear starry sky.”

A murmur of assent answered him. All waited for the signal from the pilot, including Zack.

When the pilot flew directly above the target, he announced, “Clear to jump.”

Tia dropped first, followed by the team in rapid succession. Zack jumped last. In free fall, at a thousand feet per second, the high velocity restricted his breathing, and the flapping of his clothes in the wind sounded deafening. The cold bit his ears and the swift loss of altitude stabbed his eardrums painfully. In the moonless night, he could vaguely see the ground but focused on the dim glow of the altimeter at his wrist.

When he reached a thousand feet, he pulled the cord and the sudden tug of his parachute straps left him swinging as if he’d snagged himself on a cloud. Now floating in surreal silence, as his eyes adjusted to the faint starlight, he peered in the shadows at the strange mix of white sand and rock below. A few scattered camp fires burned their last embers. Touaregs? Tourists? Rangers? Or sentinels?

Switching on his com system, Zack whispered, “Stay clear of these camp fires. We don’t want any witnesses. Even a dumb tourist with a cell phone could alert the park rangers.” He directed his chute slightly to the left. “The widest canyon is our landing target. See you there.”

Zack worried about what they would find defending the hoard. Local Touaregs? Rebels? Anaz-voohri warriors? It could be worse. It could be his sister. But Zack didn’t want to think like that. Most likely the Anaz-voohri had set up some energy shields or sophisticated automated defenses. Although Zack had briefed his team as best he could, he knew that no amount of training or real combat had prepared them for so many unknown factors.

After landing smoothly on open sand, Zack gathered his parachute and concealed it at the foot of a jutting rock. He consulted the satellite locator on his epad. Their target still pulsed red, and he could see that the members of his team had landed close together in the same canyon. Good job. He switched his readings to heat signature and detected no visitors in their immediate vicinity.

“Let’s regroup as we move toward the target,” Zack whispered in his com system. “Stay close to the rock. Follow the ridge to the left.” Adjusting his night goggles for the level of darkness, he started toward the pulsing red spot on his map, each step made sluggish by the fine sand shifting underfoot.

Soon the whole team gathered in the recess of a cliff.

“Keep your eyes peeled.” Zack kept his voice low. “Although the satellite detects no body heat anywhere between us and the target, sentinels could be hiding in caves and surprise us at any time.”

Zack motioned to Tia. “Take five and follow the far side of the canyon. It’s narrow enough that we can keep sight of each other. From here on, we maintain silence and communicate only by signs.”

All nodded and while Tia crossed the canyon with half the team, Zack stuck to the left ridge with the other half, proceeding toward the pulsing red dot.

It was too quiet. No bird calls, no insects buzzing. During his years in the Middle East, Zack had learned that even in the worst desert, life thrived at night. Where had the animals gone? There should be desert mice and snakes. Zack didn’t like it.

As they progressed steadily along the canyon, the map told him they were almost there. He stopped his team to scrutinize the area. Still no movement and nothing on the satellite guidance system. Could it be a trap?

With the ridge high above their heads, he wondered whether they had been detected. He couldn’t see any cave opening on ground level. When the satellite showed his team in the same spot as the red pulsing dot, he looked up toward a prominent overhang thirty feet up the cliff. Could it be the entrance to a cave? He motioned to Tia and her team to cross back and position themselves on the opposite side of the overhang.

When Tia started climbing, the sizzle of weapon fire erupted from above and the whole team took refuge under the overhang. So they had sentinels after all. Zack moved away from the protruding rock to return fire when two men leapt down from above, landing on their feet like super Ninjas.

Zack dove and threw a grenade. One man fell. The other showered the scattering team with a laser-like beam that whizzed all around. From the cover of standing rocks, the team fired non-stop, but the man still stood, as if he were immune. Did he wear a special armor? Aiming for the head, Zack finally brought the man down.

“Cease fire!” Zack wondered how many more of these crazy sentinels he’d find inside the cave. They seemed to have superhuman abilities and no regard for their own lives whatsoever. “Casualties?”

“Three wounded, Captain,” Tia reported. “Laser burns. They’ll live.”

“Thank God.” Zack carefully approached the two sentinels and checked their pulse. Finding none, he retrieved their laser weapons. “Two stay here with the wounded and watch our backs. The rest of us go up.”

He gave one of the laser guns to Tia. “Maybe they are not immune to those.”

During the ascent, Zack expected to be fired upon at anytime, but no attack came.

They reached the overhang. It led to a wide opening in the rock and the reduced team proceeded carefully inside. No guards, no protective measures of any kind. Zack didn’t like this at all. It smelled more and more like a trap.

Tia turned on her flashlight, flooding the cavern with light. Zack lifted his night goggles. Several oblong trunks, dull gold with Anaz-voohri markings, occupied the center, surrounded by smaller metal crates.

The cave looked almost natural, except for the perfect symmetry of the dome. On the other hand, it seemed old and eroded. Primitive earth-tone designs of impalas and snakes on the walls attested to the various tribes that had occupied it over the last centuries, if not millennia.

This seemed too easy. Warning signals screamed in the back of Zack’s mind.

When he turned and saw Tia studying the electronic pad locking one of the larger trunks, he rushed toward her. “Tia, No!”

Too late. The lock flashed. Zack shoved Tia out of the way and threw himself upon her as an explosion rocked the cave. Flung like a dislocated puppet into a burning breath, pelted by rock and debris, Zack desperately held on to Tia, shielding her with his body. Then he felt his head swirl, the sounds around him faded and he lost consciousness.

* * * * *

Tia coughed up dust and disengaged herself from Zack's limp body. She checked his pulse. He still breathed, but feebly. Dear God, please let him live through this. She couldn’t stand the thought of losing him. “We’ve got a man down,” she whispered in her com system. “Any other casualties?”

A few feeble responses echoed her call. But the sound of gunfire outside told her they had more company. She dragged Zack behind the protection of the trunk that seemed undamaged by the explosion. Taking cover behind the trunk as well, she reached for her gun as two men rushed into the cavern. The same two that attacked them before? It seemed impossible. Weren’t they dead?

Tia dodged a knife flying at her head. Armed with long, curved swords, the men kept coming despite heavy fire from Tia’s decimated team. She could see the marks of the mortal injuries the two aggressors had suffered less than ten minutes ago, yet they lived.

Fueled by anger and fear, Tia emptied her clip on them without results. She threw three grenades and the men barely slowed down. Who were these guys? Or rather, what were they?

Then she remembered the alien weapons Zack had taken from them. She seized hers, snatched the other from Zack’s belt. One laser gun in each hand, she pushed the trigger button as she’d seen the enemy do earlier. The sizzling of flesh and the awful burning stench told her they worked. The first man fell without a sound and the other screamed, then collapsed. But Tia wouldn’t take their death for granted this time. Although they looked like men, these beings were obviously not human. Prying the long curved blade from one of the dead men’s hands, she hacked off both their heads, just to be sure.

Of the original twelve in the team, only she and one other soldier still stood. She sent him to check on the others. She needed to evacuate Zack immediately to a hospital with the wounded. Running to the overhang, she checked the reception on her epad and sent a coded message. Target recovered, ready for transport. Heavy casualties... “How many casualties?” she called in her com system.

“Four dead, six gravely wounded, Lieutenant,” came the other soldier’s voice.

“Damn!” Tia finished her message with the count and added a request for emergency medical transport.

Dawn lightened the eastern sky when the large transport came to pick up the load with a special team to carry the alien trunks and the crates. They’d have to work fast, before the park authorities showed up, but they were the experts. The hoard would be taken to a military facility where specialists would open them with all the safety precautions humanely possible.

Soon after, the Medevac helicopter landed on the canyon floor. Tia and her only uninjured soldier had lined up the wounded on the sand, ready for departure. Tia feared for Zack’s life and caught herself praying for him. His back looked horribly charred, and the fact that he did not move or regain consciousness boded ill for his chances of survival.

A third helicopter landed and started loading the dead bodies, but Tia could only think of Zack. Struggling to hide her emotional turmoil, she left the specialists to take care of everything else and she hopped on the Medevac chopper as it lifted off. Sitting next to Zack, she squeezed his hand, hoping he couldn’t see her tears. “Don’t you dare die on me, damn it! Don’t even think of it!”

Chapter Fourteen

The Medevac chopper transported the wounded to a hospital ship in the Mediterranean, off the coast of Italy. Shortly after admitting her team, Tia asked about their status. The medical officer seemed optimistic for most of them.

When it came to Zack’s prognosis, however, the surgeon shook his head. “The helmet protected his head, but there’s no skin left on his back.”

“No skin?” Tia couldn’t imagine a back with no skin. She cringed for Zack at the thought of the painful surgeries to come.

“We dressed his burns and prolonged his coma artificially, so he doesn’t have to deal with the pain. But most importantly, there could be internal damage, and given the severity of his injuries, we do not have the right equipment to fully assess his condition. I’m having him transferred to the best military hospital I know. It’s in Landstuhl, Germany.”

“Germany? I have to accompany him.” Tia couldn’t let him go alone in such a horrendous state. She wanted to be there when he woke up.

The doctor considered her with surprise. “It’s none of my business, but you can’t really do anything for him.”

”I just want to be there when he wakes up... He saved my life.” She really wanted to say 'I made a mistake and he paid for it', but that was none of the doctor’s business.

“Let us at least treat your injuries.”

Tia flexed her burned hands. “These are hardly injuries. It’ll heal by itself.”

The surgeon frowned at her bravado. “Give me a minute to make the arrangements.” He pulled out an epad and entered codes through the small keyboard.

Tia used the time to text her CO, who agreed to assign her to Germany with Zack before reporting to Washington. A good thing, because Tia intended to follow Zack, whether her CO agreed or not.

The surgeon looked up from his epad. “The medical transport leaves in a few minutes.”

The second ride in the Medevac transport seemed to take forever. Zack lay unconscious, face down on a stretcher, hooked up to several lines. Thick bandages covered his back and the medical staff kept constant watch on his vital signs.

Tia couldn’t help but think she should be the one lying there. She knew she had a strong constitution and would probably have weathered the explosion better than Zack. But he had sacrificed himself to save her, and she couldn’t stand seeing him so helpless.

“I love you, corrazon,” she whispered in his ear, hoping it would give him strength. “You have to hold on, for us.” Zack couldn’t possibly be aware of her presence, yet she believed her words could help him.

As soon as they reached Landstuhl US Military Hospital, the emergency staff there started a battery of scans on Zack. If Tia read their faces correctly, he was in very bad shape, but they wouldn’t answer any questions until they had performed and studied all the tests.

Awaiting the results, Tia sat besides Zack’s bed. He still lay on his stomach, wrapped in white bandages like a mummy with saline drips stuck everywhere. The military had automatically contacted Zack’s parents, and they were on their way. Even the estranged biological father of whom Zack hardly ever spoke had been alerted.

Finally the surgeon walked into the room. “Are you related to the patient?”

“As close as it gets.” Tia didn’t flinch. She wasn’t going to let a doctor keep the truth from her.

The surgeon looked doubtful, but shrugged. “Well, I have good news and bad news.”

“Give me the good news first.” Tia desperately needed to hear them.

“We can clone his skin, and with a series of grafts, which we can perform right here, his chances of survival are excellent.”

Tia hesitated to rejoice yet. “And the bad news?”

The doctor sighed. “He’s suffered more than burns. His lower spinal cord is damaged in several places.”

“Which means?” Tia’s panic strangled her voice.

“Well, we will attempt surgery and do our very best, of course, but it seems this young man will likely be paralyzed from the waist down.”

“Paralyzed?” Tia couldn’t even imagine what that would do to Zack. “You mean he’ll have to be in a wheelchair? For how long?”

“For the remainder of his life, I’m afraid.” The doctor’s voice had softened, as if he understood Tia’s pain. “This kind of injury does not repair itself with time.”

Unable to speak as fear twisted her stomach, Tia stared at Zack. To think that he’d never walk again, never climb a mountain, never make love...

“Usually patients with injuries this serious only survive a few years in a chair... The lungs do not function at full capacity.” He doctor paused, as if expecting Tia to react. “The shock his body sustained should have killed him. In any case, he will need psychological counseling. This is an extremely difficult transition for a professional soldier.”

Still numb, unwilling to believe, Tia heard herself ask, “How long before he wakes up?”

“It could be weeks, even months. We’ll probably wait until after all the surgeries are done. Induced coma is still the easiest painkiller while the patient heals.”

Suddenly Tia wanted to leave. She could no longer control her distress if she remained in the same room as Zack. How could she lay eyes on him and not hate herself for crippling him for life? How could she face the despair and the accusation in his eyes when he learned of his irreversible condition? Or even worse, how could she stand his forgiveness?

“His family should be here soon,” she said quickly. “I have to report for a debriefing. I’ll be calling you on his progress.” Tia rushed out of the room.

Once in the hallway, she ran for the bathroom, locked herself in a stall then leaned on the wall and sobbed uncontrollably. Her stomach churned, and she retched into the toilet.

Tia’s world had suddenly collapsed, all her hopes for future happiness knocked down with a single blow. The very thought of this vibrant, sexy man she loved reduced to immobility made her want to flee, run, pretend it never happened. But she had to live with the fact that it was all her fault. If only she hadn’t touched that booby-trapped lock... An unforgivable mistake.

Whenever Zack regained consciousness, he would certainly hate her, even if he refused to admit it. They had risked their lives for each other many times during their years together. It would have been easier for Tia to die, or even to deal with Zack’s death. It was part of a soldier’s lot, but she didn’t think she could cope with this. This was the absolute worst thing that could possibly happen to him, to them both.

Even if Zack still loved her, what would happen next? Tia’s life belonged on the battlefield, and he would remain bound to a chair. No more torrid nights, long swims, or walks on the beach... What would they have in common except memories? When would they see each other? Tia’s duties would keep her away most of the time… As despair threatened to engulf Tia, she took a deep breath and refocused her thoughts.

She needed to believe that someone else shared the blame, and she would make sure they paid for what they did to Zack. Ultimately, the responsible scum were the Anaz-voohri. Anger rose in her chest at the very thought of the name. Tia would find redemption in hunting them down. That was all she had left.

Pulling out her epad, Tia called the General in charge of the Anaz-voohri counterattack operations and requested an audience. Later that day, she boarded a military plane bound to Washington, DC.

* * * * *

In the council chamber of the Anaz-voohri flag ship, Captain Kavak turned on the three-dimensional holographic device occupying the center of the crown-shaped table. She could not accept defeat in front of her war conclave. And since the two sentinels guarding the weapon hoard had died, she had no one to punish, and no one to blame but herself for the loss of her precious weapons.

Now that she faced the appointed leaders of her nation, what would she tell them? As her aide served the Blue Heaven liqueur in tall crystal flutes to subdue their objections, Kavak observed the generals in full black armor, their faces in shadow under the cowl of their silvery capes.

Although no one could ask an Anaz-voohri warrior to relinquish his weapons, Kavak wished she had that power. Several of these officers coveted her position. Kavak would have to watch her every word and lead them in the direction she’d already chosen.

“How did they detect our cache?” asked an old General in an accusing tone, before even tasting the drink.

The chief scientist, pale in his white robes and smaller than the others, twirled his glass, looking confused. “And how did substandard beings overpower the hybrid sentinels we so carefully engineered for the task?”

Kavak took a few sips, then stared at her conclave, challenging them to accuse her. “I fear we grossly underestimated the military capabilities of these puny humans.” She emphasized the we, hoping to make them share the guilt. “Not only did they deprive us of the phase-guns destined to arm our loyal hybrids, but they now control these weapons and can inflict more damage to our race in the confrontations to come.”

The scientist cleared his throat. “As you know, Exalted Leader, these phase-guns are difficult to produce in large quantities without the facilities of a home planet. It will take months to replace them.” Although the spineless scientist always hid behind excuses, Kavak had easily bribed him into playing her game.

“The humans are getting too bold,” shouted a female General who slammed the table with her palm. When her tall glass wobbled, she redressed it in a quick motion. “We must stop them.”

“They need to be taught proper respect.” The scientist nodded, just as Kavak had coached him.

The Shaman appointed after Kavak killed his predecessor, a young male in traditional leather and red and yellow feather headdress, seemed very proud and aware of his importance. “No inferior beings can humiliate the Anaz-voohri without severe consequences,” he added with emphasis.

“I agree. These humans are trying my patience.” Kavak marveled at how easily she could manipulate the leaders of the Anaz-voohri nation. Good thing she’d eliminated the old Shaman. He’d probably have argued that Humans had souls and shouldn’t be sacrificed. “We can strike a blow to destroy a large part of their military.” Kavak turned to her young subaltern. “Where is their largest concentration of troops at the moment?”

A three dimensional representation of Earth filled the hollow center of the crown-shaped table. The holographic planet turned to present one particular area.

The young subaltern pointed with one claw. “Many armies seem gathered in what they call the Middle East, Exalted Leader. Over two hundred thousand soldiers, not all from the same nation!”

“Two hundred thousand...” To think that Kavak’s legions only consisted of ten thousand warriors. The five thousand other members of the Anaz-voohri nation constituted the religious cast, the engineers, the technical crew, the food producers, and the medical staff. Of course, she had a few thousand hybrids working for her on planet Earth as well. Still... She rose and hovered along the outside perimeter of the table. “The time has come to level the field.”

“May I point out that our latest biological weapon needs testing, Exalted Leader.” The head scientist looked smug. He knew he’d just earned his case of blue liqueur.

“Poisoned gas?” Kavak feigned surprise, but she had thought of it at length and relished the idea of human soldiers squirming in the throes of death. “I like it.” She returned to her seat. “Pick a small country with the highest concentration of troops. We’ll make a show of force, and this time we’ll do it in broad daylight.”

“You mean show ourselves, after we have remained hidden for so long?” The female General smiled at the idea of open battle.

So did Kavak. “Rejoice, my faithful warriors. The time has come to instill fear in these insufferable little fire-ants, show them what kind of damage we can inflict.” She knew the ants’ analogy would speak to the religious cast, who still revered the old Earth legends, although they’d never seen a single ant in their life.

“Aren’t you afraid they might retaliate?” The scientist had even agreed to look like a coward to help Kavak make her point.

“Afraid? Who here is afraid?” Alert for any negative reaction, Kavak smiled as she saw none. “Let them try. They cannot touch us in space. Their fleet is still in infancy. We will strike and let them know who we are, so there is no doubt that this is a reprisal. Then we’ll let them ponder the consequences of their actions.”

“What if they strike us again?” So, the old General did not trust her plan.

Kavak smiled like the snake sighting his prey. “At the slightest act of aggression, we retaliate with even greater force.”

The young Shaman nodded. “The little ants will think twice before stinging us next time.”

Kavak congratulated herself for her judicious choice of religious leader.

* * * * *

A military sedan met Tia when she landed in Washington, DC and drove her to the Pentagon. As soon as she entered the marble foyer with the official logo insert on the floor, she could sense a great level of alertness. Something must have happened. She went through the security check.

“Lieutenant Vargas. You are expected,” said the young woman who met her as soon as she was cleared. “Please follow me.” She led Tia to a door and stopped. “The General is inside,” she said then left.

Tia entered the conference room and thought she’d pushed the wrong door. She had not expected to see so many people at her debriefing. Overwhelmed, she noticed military brass, civilians, and even politicians recognizable in their expensive suits.

The General hurried toward her. “Have you heard?”

“Heard what?” So, Tia had guessed right.

The General pointed to a large plasma screen on the wall. “This started about an hour ago. The images are automatically relayed by unmanned cameras.”

“Unmanned?” On the screen, all Tia could see was a large desert town, partly destroyed, a battlefield. Dead soldiers, strewn everywhere. Above them hovered the malevolent bulk of a large ship, a dull golden color, with Anaz-voohri markings.

“Madre de Dios! What happened?”

“We think it’s a biological agent. The ship appeared out of nowhere and just hovered in place. The journalists started filming. After several warnings, the troops, ours and our enemies, started firing at it with no result. Then the ship sprayed a cloud of gas.”

“Dear God.” Tia stared at the images of sheer carnage.

“When the image cleared, all the soldiers had collapsed, so had the journalists, but the cameras kept recording. As far as we can tell, they are all dead. These images are now streaming live all over the world, on TV networks and on the Internet.”

“What have we done?” Tia couldn’t help but think it was a reprisal for the raid on the weapon’s cache.

“The whole area has been quarantined.” The General obviously misinterpreted Tia’s question. “We have no idea what we are dealing with. Only one thing is sure, it’s the Anaz-voohri. They’ve just taken the offensive and we have no recourse against them.”

“This is retaliation for taking their weapons, isn’t it?”

“It looks like it.”

“How many are estimated dead?” After Zack’s sacrifice, Tia couldn’t take anymore bad news.

“Hard to tell at this point, we don’t know how many square miles are affected by the gas or how long it will hang there, or whether it will travel to other areas. Including the civilian population and the rebel troops, there could be over fifty thousand dead.”

Tia couldn’t believe what her team’s last raid had triggered. “This is an abomination.”

“The world leaders are on their way to London to discuss the formation of a global security sector, an international organization for the protection of the planet against alien invaders.”

“That fast?” Tia couldn’t believe such a swift response.

The General clucked his tongue. “Let’s say it was already in the works. They just made it their top priority.”

“It’s about time.” Tia still stared at the screen, transfixed. “We are going to need all the help we can get.”

“After the briefing, as soon as we know more, you will take command of Captain Duncan’s unit.” The General raised his brow. “I promoted you to Captain. From the information in your report, I understand he’s not coming back.”

Unable to speak, Tia only saluted. She had to keep fighting, for Zack, for the helpless people of this world. It might keep her mind off her own guilt, although she doubted it. Maybe she would die in battle, solving all her problems at once.

Chapter Fifteen

One year later, 2010, in a military hospital in Virginia

“Damn!” Zack moaned as the door opened and he lay helpless on his stomach. Stuck to his hospital bed, his mind in a constant fog from the medications, unable to even lie on his back, he had lost control of his miserable existence.

The female doctor smiled as she entered Zack’s room. “How are you this morning?”

Why did it have to be the pretty blonde? How humiliating. As she went to the other side of the bed, Zack could have turned his head but preferred not to face her. “Life sucks.”

She pulled back the sheet and her cold latex-gloved hands probed the newly grafted skin on his back. “It’s healing nicely.”

Despite the tenderness of his shoulders, Zack managed not to flinch under her touch. Her hands probed further down. With no feelings below the waist, Zack wondered how much of his anatomy she explored. He probably looked like a repulsive patchwork of scar tissue. Even the skin on the back of his legs had been replaced.

“It’s a splendid spring day outside!” Why did she flaunt her obvious happiness at him?

Zack snorted. “It’s just another freaking morning,” he mumbled, unable to keep his anger in check. “Nothing good will come of it, trust me. Our lives are just a bad joke designed to amuse the Almighty, even yours.”

How many times had Zack dreamed of ending his life since he’d awakened from his coma? He couldn’t count.

The latex gloves snapped as the doctor removed them. “The last grafts are doing fine, and I think it’s now safe to rest on your back, even sit up, if the new skin doesn’t feel too tight.”

Zack grunted. “Should I thank you or something?”

“It’s great news.” The Doctor came back into his field of view and smiled. “You’ll now be able to read, or use a computer.”

“Big deal.” How could Zack rejoice about that? “Now I can look people in the eyes and see their pity when they look at me.”

“Nonsense. No one pities you here.” The doctor went to the door, peeked outside and motioned to someone in the hallway. Two sturdy medics rushed in and she directed them to the bed. “Turn this patient over and prop him up.”

The medics moved Zack with great care and he saw for the first time the ceiling and the back wall of his hospital room. It was painted various shades of blue in wide geometrical patterns.

Zack also realized he was shamefully naked. Fortunately, his frontal skin still looked as it should, but his legs had lost their muscle tone. When the medics bent him over to insert pillows behind his back, Zack cried out from the sudden pull on the skin.

“Still painful? Would you like me to increase your pain medication?” The doctor reached into her breast pocket and pulled out her epad.

“About that,” Zack winced then paused, wondering how to formulate his request. “That stuff messes up my brain. Don’t you have anything less... debilitating?”

The doctor arched her pretty brow. “It’s your choice, but the non-drowsy pain killers will not be as effective.”

“I have to start somewhere if I ever want to get out of here, don’t I?”

“Does that mean you feel ready to start physical therapy?” Why did she have to look so happy all the time?

“I might as well make the most of what I have left,” Zack lied. He intended to end his mockery of a life, but he wouldn’t be able to do it lying helpless in a bed. He needed to regain some kind of mobility. And in order to end his existence with dignity, Zack was willing to go through the trials of upper body re-education.

The doctor dispatched the medics with one wave of the hand. “We’ll need to exercise and rebuild the muscles of your back, arms, hands and fingers. Then we’ll work on your upper arm and shoulder strength with bench presses. We’ll teach you how to move to compensate for the dead weight of your hips and legs, so you can turn in bed and crawl, and get in and out of your wheelchair without any help.”

“Whatever it takes.” The word crawl evoked images of a worm. That’s what Zack had become, a worm.

“If you are serious about this, I’ll make a request for one of the new experimental wheelchairs. You’d be the perfect candidate. It has an integrated personal computer, complete autonomy of roaming including climbing stairs, communicators, internet, satellite TV, radio and GPS access at your fingertips.”

Zack whistled, faking an enthusiasm he did not feel. “That’ll come handy with all the social life I have left,” he railed, not up to the happy thing, although such a chair would make his suicide easier. “Super-duper wheelchairs are real babe magnets.”

“Maybe more than you think.” The doctor pocketed her epad. “We’ll start this afternoon.” She grabbed the laptop from the bedside table and laid it on the bed next to him. “Here. Knock yourself out.” Then she left him alone in the room.

Zack stared at the laptop. He could find out about Tia’s whereabouts. He’d been told she’d survived the explosion, but he hadn’t heard from her, not even once. He worried about her, but he harbored no illusions about their relationship. Obviously she didn’t love him enough to put herself through the inconvenience of taking care of a disabled ex-soldier, and he couldn’t blame her.

Zack pushed the laptop aside. At twenty six, he had gone from hero and protector of the human race to a total burden, even to the woman he loved. At least the doctors had been honest with him. Zack knew there was no hope and he only had a few years to live anyway. And since he refused to spend the rest of his days in a drug-induced dream, he would have to bear the brunt of the agony until the merciful end. But he didn’t intend to linger in a society that idolized fitness and beauty. He would forever be considered an object of pity.

In the following weeks, Zack struggled in physical therapy and kept tabs on Tia through military websites. She’d made Captain, and her unit had done well. He couldn’t find any details about her missions, although she gathered praises and even had her picture in several military publications.

Zack could probably contact her through the Armed Forces, but chose not to. Inadequate as a man, useless as a lover, he had no right to impose his love upon her. Tia could do better than a crippled ex-soldier. She had already moved on, and with the enemy at the gate, she had duties to perform. She’d be better off if he just vanished from her existence.

As Zack surfed the Net to keep his mind off the pain and catch up with all the momentous events he’d missed during his prolonged coma, someone knocked at the door.

“Door’s open,” he yelled with impatience. Since when did the staff bother to knock?

When the General in charge of the Anaz-voohri counterattack walked in, Zack frowned and closed his laptop.

The older man flashed a jovial smile. “I hear your physical therapy is going well and you are learning to use that special chair we assigned you.”

“Is that what you came for? Hear me thank you for the chair? Forget it.”

The General chuckled. “Actually, I came on behalf of the whole administration to convey their gratitude over the success of your last mission.”

“You mean my very last mission.” Zack couldn’t help the bitterness in his voice.

“But a very successful mission, in which you demonstrated uncommon valor.” The General pulled out of his pocket a navy-blue velvet case, opened it and solemnly presented it to Zack. “On behalf of your country, grateful for your heroism. Congratulations, Captain.” He saluted.

Automatically, Zack straightened his pain-ridden back and saluted, bemused. “A medal? You’re giving me a medal?” Zack shook his head. “And that’s supposed to make up for being paralyzed?” He knew he was unfair but couldn’t help it.

“I know it’s not much...” The General paced, as if reluctant to speak. “I also have a request.”

What could anyone possibly want from Zack now? “You can’t be serious! My abilities are rather limited. I don’t think I’m in any position to grant anything.”

The General stopped pacing and faced him. “I’m offering you a job.”

“A job?” A nervous laugh escaped Zack’s lips. “Do I look to you like I can hold a job?”

“Your doctors assure me that you’ll soon be completely mobile.” The General wasn’t laughing. “And your brain, your knowledge, your memories are intact. Isn’t that right?”

“Son-of-a-bitch! That’s why you gave me the super-duper chair?” Zack couldn’t believe how callous the military could be. “Did my doctors tell you that I am on constant pain killers? Even so, the ache never stops, and I don’t have the luxury to be civil anymore. I have become a total pain in the ass, in case you haven’t noticed.”

“Listen,” The General went to close the door, pulled up a chair then sat beside the bed. “We miss your knowledge, your special sense of the way our enemy thinks. More than ever the world needs alien experts, and you are still the best. We need you.”

“No offense, General, but now that the world has the Global Security Sector to take care of the Anaz-voohri problem, you don’t even have jurisdiction anymore.”

“On the contrary.” The General lowered his voice. “The super-soldiers defending the hoard? They are part of a new race we just discovered, half human and half alien. There are hundreds and possibly thousands of them, they look entirely human, and they work for the Anaz-voohri.”

“Jesus Christ! We are finished.”

“At this time, we have no way of identifying these hybrids and The GSS is vulnerable to infiltration, so we are creating a new, smaller international organization, a secret one, with people of undisputable loyalty. This is an aggressive force to seek out and destroy any alien threat and target the hybrid spies helping the Anaz-voohri. Like the black ops section of the GSS, if you will. We’ll do the dirty work for them in the shadows.” The General stared into Zack’s eyes with uncomfortable insistence. “We call this new organization ORION. Operational Readiness/Intelligence On Nations.”

Why was the General telling him so much? Zack didn’t like it. “ORION? Like the constellation? And who else is in there?”

“Scientists, doctors, engineers, and special troops, of course. We are also experimenting with new DNA research to create our own breed of super-soldiers.”

Zack whistled. Much had changed since he’d been out of commission.

“And thanks to reverse engineering, we are also very close to replicating their phase-guns.”

“I fear I may not be up to the task, General. I can’t really see myself as a black ops agent, even in an office.” The truth be told, after years of soldiering, Zack couldn’t imagine himself in any office at all.

“Don’t sell yourself short, Captain. Some of the greatest minds operated from a wheelchair.”

Zack shrugged and winced at the sharp pain in his shoulders. “I know. President Roosevelt and the scientific genius Stephen Hawking spoiled it for every other disable, didn’t they? In what country is ORION based?”

“It’s top secret, on a need to know basis.”

“Of course... Secrets upon secrets, like in the old days. You Washington guys love that kind of stuff, don’t you?”

“Whenever you make up your mind, let me know.” The General rose and offered his hand.

Zack considered it a few seconds before shaking it. “Don’t get your hopes up.”

The General smiled briefly. “I know you’ll do the right thing, Captain.” He marched out of the room and closed the door behind him.

The right thing? Wasn’t it enough that Zack had lost everything, including the woman he loved? They dared ask him to do the right thing? What a bunch of users.

The more he thought about the proposition, however, the more Zack dared to hope. Maybe he would get to meet Tia one last time if he worked in the highest circles. And he wanted to know what happened to his sister Ashley. He’d not heard anything since that strange encounter three years ago on a mountaintop in Afghanistan. He’d promised to save her, and although she refused his help, he knew that deep down she still counted on him.

That night, after hours of internal debate, Zack made the call to the General. “As soon as I get out of this hospital, I’m your man.”

* * * * *

Two days later, as Zack turned on the morning news on his room’s plasma TV, he spilled his orange juice when his sister’s face filled the screen. The anchorman’s voice droned on.

“The dead teenager found in the woods last night near a VA hospital in Virginia was identified as Ashley Duncan, one of the twelve little girls abducted from their beds seven years ago. The cause of death is still unclear. The police offer no comments other than the FBI took over the investigation.”

It couldn’t be. Zack would have felt it if Ashley had died. But the face of the dead girl, pale and calm in death, left no doubt about her identity. It was Ashley as he’d seen her on the top of that God-forsaken mountain. Tears flowed freely into his hospital food tray as he sobbed.

Why had they killed Ashley? Just as Zack thought things would get better, someone bashed him on the head. He remembered the last words he’d heard from his sister, Give up the fight or I will die and you will die. And Zack had just accepted a post in ORION. If he’d given up, refused the offer, Ashley might still be alive. Guilt gnawed at his soul for prompting his baby sister’s death. The Anaz-voohri had delivered on their threat and dropped Ashley’s body at his doorstep. The last warning before they killed him.

His vision blurred and he couldn’t hear the TV anchor anymore. Now Zack had lost everything, the use of his legs, Tia, and now Ashley. The thought of climbing into that wheelchair and raiding the drug cabinet to end his life once and for all crossed his mind, but something stayed his impulse. A few weeks ago, Zack would have used Ashley’s death as one more reason to commit suicide, but not today. Besides, the Anaz-voohri would kill him soon enough.

With his returning strength and relative mobility, Zack could do more than wait for death. If the Anaz-voohri expected him to surrender to fear, Zack wouldn’t give them the satisfaction. He wanted revenge and would unleash his anger against those who killed the innocent. He’d dedicate his few remaining years to fighting the Anaz-voohri scourge.

But how had they known that Zack had accepted to work for ORION? How deep did the hybrid conspiracy infiltrate the levels of government? Having nothing more to lose, Zack was determined to find out.

Chapter Sixteen

Late 2010, ORION Headquarters, New York

On the computer attached to his wheelchair, Zack uploaded the updated hybrid profile sheet into ORION’s secret database. Then he sent a series of emails to various organizations through their websites.

Since the hybrid scare had finally reached the public at large a few days ago, paranoia had settled in. By releasing new information on how to detect hybrids, Zack hoped zealous citizens would spy upon their neighbors and report back through the system. ORION could then trace suspicious behavior, in hopes of discerning patterns and locating pockets of hybrid activity.

At the sound of the automatic door, Zack glanced up.

Colonel Jason Carrick, an Aryan-looking man in his thirties, marched into Zack’s windowless office, an enigmatic smile on his close-shaven face. “Aren’t you claustrophobic, working in such a small space?” He said with a distinct southern drawl.

“Nowadays, I see the universe through a computer screen.” Zack saved his files then rotated his electronic chair to devote his full attention to his new friend. “Back from Washington already?”

“I am a model of fucking efficiency,” Carrick looked tanned even under the fluorescent lights. “I just met the girl of my dreams.” He dropped into a chair, across from Zack’s desk.

Surprised, Zack had never seen him so excited. “We are not supposed to have time for girls, Colonel. We have a planet to save.”

“Exactly.” Unruffled, Carrick smoothed his neat blond hair. “But this girl is special. I’m going to marry her and she will make me the most envied man in the United States.”

Zack never picked Carrick for a ladies man, despite his good looks and natural charm. “What is she, a movie star or something?”

“Much better than that.” Carrick’s icy blue gaze remained unreadable.

“Well? Spill it, man.” Zack’s shoulders ached, and he had no patience for games.

“I’ll give you two hints.” Carrick held up one finger. “One, her name is Tierney, and two, she will soon live in the White House.”

Bemused, Zack whistled. “Tierney Grant, the daughter of Senator Grant, the Presidential candidate? But she is only what, fifteen?”

“Unlike you, I am a patient man.” Carrick straightened the crease of his impeccable pants. “She is adorable and very aware of her charms for her age. There was definitely a spark between us.”

“I don’t think it’s such a good idea.” The vision of the two together made Zack uncomfortable. “She’s underage. Grant will have your hide if you ever touch her.”

“What do you take me for?” Carrick looked offended. “My intentions are honorable. I do not intend to touch her before our wedding night a few years from now.” His face relaxed. “Anyway, I rallied Senator Grant’s full support to vote for a systematic hybrid search in the US, by whatever means at our disposal.”

“Congratulations. Apparently no one is immune to your persuasion.” Zack hoped his cynicism didn’t show. “I offered some rewards online for information leading to arrests. We should start getting reports soon. But I fear most of these leads will be false alarms.”

“That’s a start.” Carrick’s gaze scanned the bare white walls. “The more we learn about that vermin, the better we are.”

“We don’t have much to work with. All we know about hybrids is that they have superhuman stamina. Even the bodies the government dissected didn’t tell us anything more. They look entirely human, even inside.”

“Well, my friend,” Carrick looked smug. “As it happens, we may have found a way to separate the wheat from the chaff.”

“Really?” That was their first break since Zack started working for ORION. “How?”

“Some rich industrial biologist just took an interest in our cause, and he’s a good friend of Senator Grant.” Carrick paused as if for emphasis. “Lawson Archer’s the name, and he is perfecting a reliable DNA test.”

“Reliable?”

“About ninety percent. Ten percent of the tests may prove inconclusive.”

“Did you say Archer?” The name sounded familiar, from long ago in Zack’s first desperate search for information on the Anaz-voohri. “Isn’t he the son of a rich industrial whose granddaughter was abducted at the same time as Ashley?”

“Bingo.” Carrick smiled proudly. “That was Archer’s niece. That’s why he is so eager to help us now. So, from now on, when anyone reports a suspected hybrid, all we have to do is send a DNA sample, and within three months Archer will tell us whether that person is human or hybrid.”

“Awesome.” Finally Zack saw some headway. “But much can happen in three months. How will that work?”

“We secretly obtain DNA samples of every single suspect. If and when we get positive results, we dispatch a team to terminate the hybrid. Neat and simple.”

Something still bothered Zack. “What about the ten percent whose tests come back inconclusive?”

Carrick emitted a loud sigh. “I’m afraid they’ll just have to die as well. We can’t take any chances.”

Zack couldn’t condone such a primitive witch hunt. “We can’t just kill innocents.”

“Why not?” Carrick’s expression hardened. “Do you suggest we release potential hybrids and give them free clearance? That would be disastrous.”

Zack shook his head. “I hope they perfect the test, soon.” He couldn’t bear forfeiting innocent lives.

“Or would you rather let the mobs lynch anyone without any proof, like last week in Paris?”

Zack had no answer to that. “Even with all my problems, I wouldn’t want to be a suspected hybrid right now.”

“This test is our only hope against their evil, Zack.” Carrick leaned over the desk. “We need to take extreme measures to eliminate that scum.”

“I know.” Zack hesitated in the light of his friend’s strong convictions. “But it could also be interpreted as genocide. The press will have a field day.”

Carrick sprung off his chair. “The press will never know about that ten percent. As far as the public is concerned, the DNA test is fail-proof, period.” He paced the small office then planted himself in front of Zack. “Are you taking their side? Are you a fucking hybrid lover?”

“Hey, cool off, man.” Zack berated himself for his blunt remark. “I’m just concerned about how it looks, that’s all.”

Carrick resumed pacing, hands behind his back. “We are talking about the survival of the human race, here.”

“Sorry. I can’t help but think about my sister. How would she rate, human or hybrid?” Zack sighed. “Did you tell Archer that his niece is probably a hybrid by now?”

“I didn’t, but I’m sure it crossed his mind.” Carrick loosened his tie a bit.

“Sorry, man.” Zack made his voice conciliatory, something he’d done often since his reinsertion into society. “I wouldn’t want those thousands of lives on my conscience. Those are mothers, sons, and daughters, most of them victims, like my sister.”

“These are not people but fucking mutants!” Carrick pummeled the desk, making the electronic devices on it jump slightly. “They may look like us, but they want us dead. They are the enemy and this is war. War is never pretty, my friend.”

Zack remembered how Tia spoke about getting rid of the terrorist scum, and Zack hated the Anaz-voohri more than anything. But hunting humans on the account of their genetic makeup gave him pause. “They didn’t choose to be hybrids, you know?”

“Fuck!” Carrick clenched his fists but stopped short of slugging Zack. “I didn’t choose to be human either, but I happen to be partial to the human race. As a matter of fact, I think anyone working for any government agency should be tested.” He shrugged. “But we don’t have the resources to do a systematic testing, yet.”

“And good luck breaking the Privacy Act.” Zack almost enjoyed antagonizing his friend. “People don’t trust the government with their DNA samples, and I can’t blame them.”

“That’s what the Senator said, too.” Carrick’s face relaxed suddenly. “In any case, I think you work too much, my friend. You look pale. Why don’t you ever get out, relax? You seem to have finished here. Want to go for drinks?”

Zack shook his head slowly. “You go ahead. I’m not in the mood. Besides, I can’t drink with all the drugs I’m taking.” The truth be told, Zack didn’t want to expose himself to the stares of wholesome people in a public place. He’d learned much about discrimination and the stigma attached to the wheelchair, even a cool one, since his return to the functioning world.

“Stop being a pessimist. I don’t drink either. But it’s important to expand your horizon, my friend. You have to make some connections, think about your future. I, for one, have big dreams.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?” Zack couldn’t suppress the bitterness in his tone.

“One day, I’ll be the General in charge of the international secret police.” Carrick waited for a reaction and when Zack remained silent, he went on. “I’ll know everything there is to know about anyone and I’ll be the most powerful man on this planet. What about you?”

Zack snorted. “I gave up my dreams the day I woke up paralyzed.”

“When are you going to shake that self-defeating state of mind?” Carrick sighed. “You need to think outside the box. Don’t be satisfied with a diminished existence, fight it!”

Zack wheeled his electric chair around the desk to face Carrick. “Damn you. Will you stop this? You know there is nothing for me out there!”

“That’s where you are wrong.” Carrick sat on the corner of Zack’s desk and his cold blue gaze softened. “Have you checked all the options? I know a hospital, right here in New York, called the CEM, the Center for Evolutionary Medicine. There is a certain Doctor Devertas in that place, who performs miracles every single day.”

“Or so they claim.” Zack didn’t want to hope, it hurt too much when hopes got crushed.

“Were you always such a skeptic? I know for a fact that they use experimental techniques, at your own risk, of course, and it’s expensive. But they actually cure patients deemed incurable.”

Zack shook his head, unwilling to listen.

“Blind people see again, kids with lethal birth defects live normal healthy lives.”

“Hoping is a waste of time.” Zack wished Carrick would give up. “Besides, I could never afford it. I bet it’s not covered by my military health plan.”

“I could pull a few strings. For someone with your precious knowledge, I’m sure I can find a big wig to authorize the expense.” Carrick winked. “And I’d have an excuse to go to Washington and visit Tierney again.”

“You dog.” But Zack suspected his friend’s infatuation with the Senator’s daughter had more to do with advancement than romance. Unlike Zack, Carrick didn’t value love, only efficiency.

Carrick squeezed Zack’s shoulder. “Think about it, my friend. It’s your life. What do you have to lose?” He walked out, leaving Zack in turmoil.

Indeed, what did Zack have to lose? But more importantly, what did he have to gain? Even a remote chance of improving his condition could be worth undergoing more surgeries and the torture of re-education.

Zack didn’t fool himself into thinking he could be normal again, but for the first time since that fated raid, he dared to dream. All the physicians he’d seen since the raid had told him there was no hope, and he’d resigned himself. Could they be wrong?

Could Zack ever be a complete man again? Even a lover? Could he face Tia without cringing at the look of pity on her face? He closed his eyes to the hurt. He couldn’t bear the thought of their happy past together and pushed away the images.

Hope could get him hurt, too. Hope meant expectations, and Zack couldn’t allow himself this luxury. He would, however, accept Carrick’s generous offer and make an appointment with Dr. Devertas, just to check the veracity of this unexpected new option.

* * * * *

Dr. Devertas’ office CEM New York – early 2012

After months of observation and evaluation, Zack stared at the large multicolored scans on the wall of Dr. Devertas’ office. They represented Zack’s spine and nervous system in minute details.

The good Doctor seemed to evaluate Zack’s worth, not only as a patient, but as a man. He stared at Zack pointedly. “It’s a very delicate procedure, but not impossible. I cannot guarantee that you will walk again, but we stand a good chance of reattaching the severed nerves, if they have not lost their elasticity. I have to warn you, however, that the recovery will be extremely painful, and there may be unexpected side effects.”

“Like what?” Zack’s natural suspicions returned.

“Well,” Dr. Devertas cleared his throat. “We noticed changes in our post surgical patients, probably due to the enhancing drugs we use to speed the healing process. It seems that when the nervous system repairs itself, it also tends to establish new nervous connections, and open channels that may not have been there before the surgery. Connections in the brain, for example, or certain functions previously dormant could awaken.”

“You mean I’d use more than the usual ten percent of my brain?” It didn’t sound so bad.

“Yes, and sometimes it is a welcome improvement.” Dr. Devertas stared at Zack with intensity. “But it can also be scary.”

“How scary?”

The doctor shrugged. “Nightmares, premonitions, that kind of thing…”

Zack had the feeling that Dr. Devertas wasn’t telling him the whole truth, but the temptation won over his doubts. “It still sounds worth it.”

“Very well.” Something in the Doctor’s smile seemed forced. “It’s a long process, we’ll operate in stages, and you will need to heal between surgeries.”

“I’m familiar with that method.” Zack had a patchwork of scars on his back to prove it.

Although Zack didn’t really trust Devertas, the man represented his last and only chance. Besides, Zack had nothing to lose. He’d rather take a chance at living a full life than accept this parody of existence, no matter the cost. And if he died in the process, at least he’d have tried.

Zack returned the doctor’s smile. “When do we start?”

* * * * *

CEM, New York, two weeks later

Zack awoke, drenched in sweat. In his nightmare, Anaz-voohri butchers opened his brain and used sharp instruments to test his nerves, sending jolts of sharp pain through his head. He spoke to his dead sister Ashley in his dreams, and she warned him about the dangers of alien surgery. Why? No one was going to touch his brain.

The nurses had taken away the wheelchair from his hospital room, not that Zack would have been able to use it in his semi-comatose state. Even his arms didn’t respond to his command anymore, but it could be due to the drugs.

Sometimes Zack struggled to stay awake to avoid the nightmares, but then horrible hallucinations and headaches tortured him in his waking state. He lost track of the days and of where he was. The torture of his treatment seemed endless and in short moments of lucidity, Zack worried about his sanity.

Chapter Seventeen

New York CEM - 2013

The Aquatic Rehabilitation Center, with its white marble columns, lofty skylights and modern frescoes, resembled a Roman spa. The natural lighting, couches, bar and potted plants added to the decadent feeling of the place. Inside the pool of blue water, Zack sat on the underwater bench and pulled off his yellow rubber fins. He massaged his calves aching from the recent strain.

“Now to the treadmill.” Dr. Devertas, wearing a white coat, adjusted the underwater camera from the marble console.

Zack floated in the warm water toward the aquatic treadmill and seized the handlebars. Why did it have to hurt so much? He positioned his feet on the belt then lifted each foot in a clumsy walk as the belt started moving under him.

“That’s it, just keep the same rhythm.” Dr. Devertas checked Zack’s movements on the wall screen connected to the underwater cameras. “You are doing fine.”

“Easy for you to say.” But Zack’s healing journey had surpassed his expectations. After weeks of a drugged nightmare and more weeks of painful assisted re-education, first in bed then in a standing harness, sensation and coordination had gradually returned to his lower body. He could now move his legs at will, although each movement caused him pain and lacked in grace. “I still have the sensation that worms are crawling under my skin at night.”

“It’s a very good sign.” Dr. Devertas still stared at the wall screen. “Your nerves are getting back to work. They’ve healed enough for the sensations to return. Right now, they are experiencing temporary overload.”

“Glad to hear it’s temporary.” For the past week, Zack had seen incredible improvement despite the daily torture. He’d gone from totally disabled to almost ambulant, and his lower body muscles grew stronger each day. But he still had to build up strength so his legs could support his weight.

Dr. Devertas zoomed the camera on Zack’s thighs. “The burning, the aches, the itch, the muscle spasms, that’s normal. Just keep up with the medications and the massages. It will get better.”

The flotation factor compensating for lack of strength and balance, Zack focused on each step. In his mind, the dreamy face of a very young man with dark wavy hair and striking black eyes appeared. The name Dylan resounded in his head. “I think I have a visitor.”

Dr. Devertas smiled in approval. “You are getting better at discerning your precognitive skills as well.”

When the glass doors slid open with a whoosh, the young man from Zack’s vision walked into the marble atrium, wearing jeans, a purple tee-shirt and a Yankee baseball cap.

Devertas smiled and waved to the newcomer “Hi, Dylan.” Then he glanced at Zack. “I’ll let you two alone. Just keep up with the rhythm.” The doctor walked out of the atrium through the automatic glass doors.

Zack watched with increasing curiosity the young man whose white sneakers squeaked on the marble floor. Each premonition still took Zack by surprise. Answers popped into his mind, names, faces, people he’d never met before. The more it happened, the more Zack wanted to trust this intuitive ability, but he still didn’t dare.

The young man crouched at the pool’s edge. “What’s up?” He held out his hand. “Corporal Dylan Brady. Colonel Carrick sent me. Looks like we’re going to be working together.”

Zack waved the hand away. “Sorry, I’m all wet.”

Dylan laughed. “Hey, man, I won’t melt.”

“Suit yourself.” Zack reached and shook the offered hand, a strong honest handshake, but Zack couldn’t help resent the perfect coordination of the healthy youth. “You look too young to work for Carrick. What are you, seventeen?” Zack winced as his leg cramped and he glanced at the counter on the wall screen, making sure his rhythm remained consistent.

Dylan shrugged. “I’m eighteen, dude, and age is irrelevant. Seems we have a lot in common.”

“Really?” What could Zack possibly have in common with this young healthy pup? “How so?”

“We both owe our quality of life to the miracle of new science.” Dylan sat at the edge of the pool, crossing his legs into a lotus position. Was he showing off? Then he stared at Zack with a sparkle in his unsettling black eyes. “I used to be blind.”

Zack found it difficult to believe that such extraordinary eyes could have ever been sightless. “You’re kidding me, right?”

“No. I was born with a birth defect, the kind with no possible cure.” The seriousness in Dylan’s face left no doubt about the veracity of his claim.

“Damn.” New science... The expression brought up some of Zack’s reservations. Dr. Devertas insisted it was just the logical edge of human scientific advances, but his techniques defied all known medical theories.

Dylan let his hand trail in the water, making small ripples. “I also developed weird psychic abilities after my surgery. I understand you have similar symptoms.”

It almost sounded like an interrogation, and Zack hated being probed. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Yes, you do.” Dylan kept staring at the play of light on the water surface, from the sunshine filtering through the skylights. “Your nurses say you can tell in advance what will happen in the news that day. Ain’t that right?”

“Can’t a patient have any privacy anymore?” The fact that Devertas and the nurses reported to Carrick made Zack’s blood rush faster. “It’s not really new, you know. I used to have psychic communications with my sister years ago, before I ever set foot in this place. I always had the gene. My sister had it, too.”

“Well,” Dylan rose, unfolding like a cat, and casually scanned the empty place, as if making sure they were still alone. “It seems Colonel Carrick has a use for people with our kind of talent.”

Zack snorted. “My new gift is too unreliable for that. How is my friend Carrick, by the way?”

“Hunting hybrids, I suppose.” Dylan paused and his words echoed in the empty atrium. “But he wants us to focus on identifying them through our special skills.”

“Psychic spies?” Zack missed a step and cursed at the pain. The underwater device beeped, and he had to focus on his exercise. Did everyone have a secret agenda? “And here I thought Carrick just wanted me to walk again.”

“And you will, soon.” Dylan casually ambled to a nearby lounge chair and reclined upon it, hands under his head. “Dr. Devertas says within a month you’ll be kicking my ass.”

Zack considered the fit teenager with surprise. The idea of getting physical so soon flushed Zack with renewed energy as he kept working the submerged treadmill. He chuckled. “You are on, Dylan.”

“In the meantime, Colonel Carrick wants me to help you refine your gift to operate with maximum efficiency.”

“Maximum efficiency?” Zack had no doubt these were Carrick’s exact words. The underwater treadmill beeped three times, signaling the end of his session. “Let me get to the Jacuzzi.” The hot jets usually alleviated some of the muscle aches.

“Need help?” But Dylan didn’t move, just watched with open amusement, as if he already knew the answer.

“I can manage,” Zack said with irritation. He wanted to do everything by himself. He struggled up the ramp then sat on the marble edge of the pool. Turning toward the adjacent whirlpool, he eased himself into the hot water. The powerful jets immediately churned with a muffled sound, releasing a soothing lavender scent.

Dylan looked around with wonder. “As often as I’ve been in this hospital, I never suspected they had such a fancy spa up here.”

The hot pulsating streams massaged Zack’s achy legs, relaxing his stiff muscles. Within minutes, he felt much better. “Give me time to get dressed, and we can talk over lunch.”

Dylan didn’t offer to help Zack out of the hot tub and Zack felt grateful for his silence. Grabbing the ledge, he heaved himself up to a sitting position, feet dangling in the water. Then he reached for the pair of crutches lying nearby, grabbed them and struggled to his feet on his own.

Zack dragged himself on crutches toward the dressing room. There, he toweled dry, pulled on his clothes awkwardly, then sat in his waiting wheelchair. Although the strength in his legs had improved, he needed to rest them after each therapy session.

Driving his electronic wheelchair out of the dressing room into the pool atrium, Zack called to Dylan. The young man rose nonchalantly and accompanied him to the elevator, then down two floors to the cafeteria.

Among patients, visitors, physicians and nurses on lunch break, both filled their trays. Zack heaped up two plates, famished as always after water therapy. They picked a table outside on the terrace, away from the buzz of conversations. The dizzying height muffled the sounds of the city traffic below, and a light spring breeze ruffled Dylan’s long wavy hair. Zack realized Dylan didn’t want their conversation to be heard. How did he know that? Logical guess, or premonition?

Curiosity got the better of Zack. “So how do you harness this psychic thing?”

“It’s easy.” Out of his jeans pocket, Dylan pulled out a folded map. He spread it on the table between them and pointed to one area. “My gift is called remote viewing. I understand yours is slightly different, but it works the same way. Imagine this is our search area.”

Fascinated, Zack focused on the small section of New York under Dylan’s finger. “Okay. I’m there.”

“You close your eyes, watch, listen, and look for someone with fear, someone with secrets.”

Zack snorted. “That could be anybody.”

“Seriously, man. Look for someone different, someone who fits the hybrid profile. Unusual abilities, stamina, fast healing, a sympathetic feeling for the Anaz-voohri...”

As hard as he tried, Zack couldn’t do it. He shook his head. “This gives me a headache.”

“It’s because you are forcing it. You need to relax, empty your mind, do some meditation first. You’ll have to practice in a quiet place.” Dylan folded the map and handed it to Zack. “Take it, and when you get a specific name and address, you report it to the ORION office.”

“As simple as that?” Zack found the idea more than slightly disturbing if not dangerous. “And what if I am wrong?”

“At first, we can bounce names off each other, for confirmation if you will, before sending them to Carrick. But the deciding factor is not us, it’s the DNA test.”

“Of course.” Zack couldn’t help the sarcasm in his tone and didn’t mention the ten percentile of inconclusive tests. “How often have you been wrong so far?”

Dylan smiled devilishly. “Never.”

“That accurate?” A chill crossed Zack’s hypersensitive skin. “That’s a big responsibility... I mean, sending people to their death, just like that.”

“They are not people, but hybrids. They are the enemy. Believe me, I don’t like it either, man, but it’s a matter of survival for humanity, and we have to do what we can to help. Besides, only the guilty get executed.”

“Right.” Zack scratched an itchy knee. He’d be glad when the tactile overload stopped acting up. “How do you think Dr. Devertas acquired such advanced knowledge?”

“He’s gifted.” Dylan stared at Zack with unusual intensity for one so young. “But I think he also studied hybrid specimens, experimented with their DNA. Working for ORION gives him access to secret government research no one else ever sees.”

“Makes sense.” Zack wondered how much to tell Dylan, then instantly knew the youth had the adequate clearance. “Carrick talked about creating ORION’s own super-soldiers.”

“I know, and I’m sure the good doctor is involved in that project as well.”

Zack hesitated. Would his question backfire? “Do you think it’s possible the Anaz-voohri leaked out advanced technology through their hybrids?”

“To unsuspecting human doctors?” Dylan frowned. “Weird, but possible. But why?”

“Could it be to take better care of hybrids in need of medical attention? It could mean that this place is crawling with hybrids.”

“I don’t know, man.” Dylan sighed. “You and I are too close to this place emotionally to detect any hybrid here, even if there were hundreds around. The information only comes if you have no attachment to the place or the person in question.”

“Too bad.” Zack instantly knew that Dylan had tried and failed. “Besides, this center has been here for a long time.”

“True. I was a just a kid when I had my eye surgery.” Dylan shook his head. “But you could be right. I’ve seen some astonishing recoveries in this place, mine and yours included.”

* * * * *

That night, alone in the assisted living studio he occupied inside the CEM for the duration of his physical therapy, Zack sat comfortably on his bed, wedged back on thick pillows to support his spine. Remembering a Zen meditation technique from his martial arts training, he attempted to empty his mind of all worldly concerns, a rather difficult task these days.

When he finally slowed the flow of thoughts roiling through his head, he focused on one person, one single entity on the face of the earth. He called her name, in hopes of conjuring images of her...in vain. Where was she? Did she ever think about him? Zack couldn’t get Tia out of his mind and all attempts to see her through his new gift had failed so far. He drew a total blank. How he missed her...

He’d read somewhere that psychic subjects remained blind to their personal fate and that of the people they loved. Somehow, their subconscious refused to tell them about what mattered to them. How ironic. But it might be a blessing in disguise.

Tia had probably moved on long ago. By now she’d have taken another lover, forgotten about him. And it was just as well. Zack wasn’t a whole man, not yet. But more importantly, he realized he’d aged during his horrendous experience. He’d changed so much he wasn’t the same man Tia once loved. He’d never be that man again.

Shaking the sadness, disgusted by his inability to see the only person who really mattered to him, Zack snatched the map from the bedside table. He unfolded and smoothed it out on the bed in front of him. It would be easier to detect strangers with whom he had no emotional connection.

Still unable to see anything, Zack crumpled the map and threw it across the room. He knew too many people in New York to be of any use as a hybrid seeker. So he pulled out his epad and said, “Show me a map of China.” Fairly sure he had no emotional connections there, Zack entered a meditative state and set out on a psychic search for some Chinese hybrids.

Chapter Eighteen

New York, 2014

Within three months, Zack had gained enough strength in his legs to walk unaided. He only carried a cane as a precaution. He still had to perform specific exercise routines at the CEM gym every morning, and after today’s session, he’d taken a cab to ORION’s New York headquarters. It felt so good to be walking again. He would never look at a disabled person the same way.

First day back on the job... His friend Carrick had been particularly supportive and helpful during his hospital stay. Zack also looked forward to working with young Dylan.

“Welcome back.” Carrick grinned as he rose. He’d been waiting in Zack’s office.

Zack considered the regular office chair behind his desk and smiled. “Does this place look smaller? Or is it just me?” He felt so privileged to have escaped the wheelchair.

“It’s still the same, as if you never left.” Carrick shook Zack’s hand. “Your detection of the Chinese hybrid cell proved extremely accurate. Their DNA checked positive, and we are planning a raid in a few days.”

“Glad to hear it.” The positive ID, as opposed to inconclusive, set Zack’s mind at ease. “I wish I could go with you on that raid.”

“Me, too, but don’t worry. Within a few months, you’ll be back with me in the field, kicking fucking hybrid ass.”

Other thoughts had haunted Zack during this last week. “I need to ask a favor from you.”

“A favor?” Carrick perked up at the word. “Shoot. Anything for a friend.”

“There is this girl...”

“For crying out loud!” Carrick slapped his thigh. “You just got your legs back and you’re already thinking about girls?”

“This one is different...”

“I see...” Carrick considered his friend seriously. “You really care about her?”

Zack nodded. “I would like to find out if she is still available, before I make a fool of myself by contacting her.”

“Well, you picked the right man for the job. What’s her name?”

“Tia Vargas. She’s a Captain now. I met her in the OES.” Zack didn’t mention she was his Second In Command.

”Operation Earth Shield? Your old unit? You devil. When is the last time you had contact with her?”

“She was with me when I almost blew up. That’s the last time I remember.” Zack would never forget that fated raid, but he didn’t tell Carrick he’d jumped in front of the alien explosive device to save her life.

“That was five fucking years ago! And you still think about her?”

“I do.” As a matter of fact, Zack thought about her every single day. “I didn’t want to impose my infirmities on her, but now...”

Carrick pounded his shoulder. “Don’t worry, my friend, I’ll find out everything there is to know about this Tia Vargas.”

* * * * *

As he left Zack’s office, Carrick wondered whether this woman, who seemed so important to his friend, would be an asset or a problem. Carrick had great plans for Zack. With such super-abilities, he would become an important part of the puzzle Carrick assembled for his ambitions. And since Zack owed his new lease on life to Carrick, the dear man would forever be indebted to him. What a perfect way to forge loyalties!

Carrick had secured many devoted supporters that way. Others, less willing, served him only for fear he’d divulge their darkest secrets. Knowledge was power, and Carrick would use every bit of information he could find. Could Tia Vargas give Carrick more leverage on Zack?

Once in his office, Carrick entered his secret code in his computer and applied his thumb scan before searching the confidential military records. The name Tia Vargas brought forth the complete file and portrait of a striking Latina. Carrick whistled softly. No wonder Zack was smitten. But the woman exuded strength, too much for Carrick’s taste. Besides, he preferred blondes.

As he read the records, Carrick was impressed by the many achievements of Tia Vargas as a soldier. Unfortunately, despite the best military training, everything in her records suggested a strong-headed individual who supported human rights. She’d even been cited for championing questionable political leaders, like Hugo Chavez, the Venezuelan President. Such a free-thinker as Tia Vargas could influence Zack’s judgment in ways Carrick found unacceptable. He’d invested too much in Zack to risk losing him now. ORION came first.

Further research revealed that Tia Vargas was still single and, as far as the records showed, unattached. Her father, a diplomat from Venezuela, had a coffee plantation. But Carrick knew an easy way to get rid of a potential problem, in all anonymity, without making unnecessary waves.

As he composed his email to Tia Vargas, Carrick chose his words carefully.

It is with the deepest regrets, that we inform you of the passing of Captain Zack Duncan, wounded during a raid in May of 2009. He died three months ago in the CEM in New York, from the long term consequences of his severe injuries. According to his last wishes, he was cremated and his ashes scattered in space.

We apologize for the late notice, but we only found your name among his belongings a few days ago while clearing a locker. We assumed you would wish to be notified.

If you were a friend, we share in your grief. Captain Zack Duncan was liked by all the military and medical staff he came in contact with.

Sincerely,

Patient Relations Department - CEM New York

That should do it. Carrick made sure any response to that message would be redirected to his secret mail box. The rest was simple. Carrick copied parts of Tia Vargas’ military record and modified the documents to show that she was officially married to a rich Venezuelan coffee grower as of three years ago. A little artistry and a touched up wedding picture should convince Zack never to contact her. But Carrick would also monitor Zack’s private communications to make sure he didn’t.

* * * * *

China, two days later

Carrick reveled in the loud vibration of the Black Hawk helicopters transporting his hundred ORION soldiers in their new blue uniform. He enjoyed the hunt more than anything and relished times like today, when he could join the fray. When he led a mission, Carrick felt powerful.

As they approached their destination, Carrick harangued the troops over the com system. “Remember that these people are not human. They may look like villagers, but don’t let that fool you. They are filthy alien scum, and their only goal is to eliminate the human race. So be ruthless. You have the best training, the best weapons. Kill every civilian on sight, including women and children.”

Carrick had to hold on to his strap as the Black Hawk banked. “Don’t be fucking stupid,” he thundered to the troops. “Fire first. No quarters. No mercy. Keep killing until they are all dead. Burn every single house.”

Only a couple of hybrids and their son lived among the villagers, but the troops didn’t need to know that. It was good for their morale to believe they’d killed many enemies. Erasing the village from the map was an acceptable loss. Carrick had no problem with that. Besides, it would serve as an example for those tempted to protect hybrids anywhere.

The helicopters landed on an empty marketplace, the wash of the blades lifting a cloud of dust. Frightened villagers fled toward the fields on foot or straddled a bicycle, while others stared in wonder. Cows mooed and monkeys screeched. An awning flew away and merchants tried to protect their vegetables from the dust.

“Don’t let anyone escape! Kill them all!” Carrick yelled as he leapt to the dry dirt. “Team one and two, stay with me. Team three and four, go after the fugitives. Team five, six, and seven, encircle the village. Go, go, go!”

Carrick’s personal target was the largest, house where the hybrid couple lived. He motioned team one to secure the back of the house while team two deployed around the front. Weapon fire cracked all around them and women screamed as the other teams did their work.

A Chinese man and woman Carrick recognized as his target, the Raidon couple, came out of the house at the commotion then ran back inside. They fired upon the soldiers through the front window.

Carrick turned to the two soldiers carrying missile launchers. “Fire!”

One missile went through the window and another hit the roof. Carrick flattened himself on the ground as the house exploded into flames. The man ran out, his back on fire, and fell to a volley of automatic fire. His wife, followed by their teenage son, stumbled out of the burning house, only to be cut down by intense weapon fire.

The shooting ceased and Carrick approached the two downed hybrids and their progeny. The boy still breathed.

“Colonel? This one is still alive.” The soldier aimed at the boy’s head.

“Don’t kill him just yet.” Carrick had a fantastic idea. “I might have some use for this hybrid pup.” He approached the boy who looked about fifteen. “Are you Kin Raidon?”

The boy’s slanted eyes flashed and he spat in Carrick’s direction.

Carrick stepped aside and brushed his impeccable uniform. “I know you studied in England, son, so don’t pretend you only speak Chinese.”

Anger flared on the youth’s face. “You are a pig, and I’ll make you pay for killing my parents.”

Carrick chuckled. “I like your guts, Kin. How about I don’t kill you, and you come work for me. I can use someone with hybrid genes. How would you like to become one of the most powerful soldiers on this planet?”

“I’d rather die,” Kin snapped with stern determination.

“We’ll see about that.” Carrick remembered that Kin Raidon hadn’t been modified by the Anaz-voohri. According to his intel, the boy was the natural product of two hybrid parents. As such he must have invaluable physical and mental abilities. Once brainwashed and reconditioned, Kin Raidon could become an asset to ORION.

Carrick called a medic. “How are his injuries?”

The medic considered the boy carefully. “His leg wounds aren’t life-threatening.”

“Have him transported to the Beijing CEM.”

“I don’t want to go to Beijing!” Kin screamed. Struggling to stand up, he fell back to the ground.

Carrick sighed then told the medic, “Give him a tranquillizer and get him out of here.”

* * * * *

A log cabin in the Canadian wilderness

Kavak glided around the single room lit by primitive candles and heated by an open fire in a recess. How backward were these humans? But her mind boiled at this new development. She faced the woman sitting on the couch, Marianne Dupres, one of the adoptive parents for the Pleiades sisters and a loyal agent. “So who is this insolent officer killing our hybrids with such efficiency?”

Marianne raised her cool green gaze. “Colonel Jason Carrick, an upstart hacking his way to the top of ORION. Apparently he’s found a way to identify hybrids through DNA testing. He’s done much damage among our ranks in the last few months.”

Kavak hated smart humans. “If this Carrick wants to hunt hybrids, why not give him someone of our choosing to chase.”

“Like whom?” Interest sparked in Marianne’s clear face.

“How about McDougall?”

Marianne considered Kavak gravely. “You would sacrifice him?”

Kavak scoffed. “Certainly not. McDougall is my favorite person on this planet.” She raised her blue drink to make her point. The best liqueur came from McDougall’s caves. “I only mean to set a trap.”

“At McDougall’s mansion?”

“Why not?” Kavak enjoyed Marianne’s surprise. “We need a new place to convene anyway. The mansion is of no use now, and it’s perfect for this purpose.”

“All right.” The hybrid woman recovered quickly. “I’ll ask McDougall for a DNA sample and have it leaked to ORION.”

“Not so fast.” Kavak emitted a dry hiss. “You don’t need to ask him. Better to acquire his DNA in secret. He might panic if he knows he is bait.”

“Then what do I tell him?”

Kavak took a delicious sip of Blue Heaven. “Just tell him that he should prepare for an attack. We’ll make the mansion an impregnable stronghold, bring reinforcements. I’ll provide the weapons, and when Colonel Carrick and his little army raid the mansion, we’ll be ready for them.”

Chapter Nineteen

Tia dropped her unit at the Venezuelan GSS base in San Fernando for R&R. The last mission had ended well, with an armada of drug dealers in custody. When did the US Special Forces become the international police for the GSS? The grateful base commander gladly offered Tia a Jeep from the pool for her personal trip.

Tia sat on an oil drum, waiting for the car, when her epad chimed. She rarely received messages other than mission orders from HQ, and this one came from a hospital in New York. Her first thought went to Zack. She hadn’t dared look for him, but if he contacted her first, she would gladly respond.

With trembling fingers, she punched the key to open the message. Her hopes died and her vision blurred as she red the first lines. It is with the deepest regret... Her heart felt as if a strong fist squeezed it. She could hardly breathe. How could Zack have died without her knowing? Although the doctors didn’t expect him to live more than a few years, somehow Tia had kept hoping for a miracle.

Now all she had left was the guilt of not contacting him before it was too late. Even if he’d held her responsible for his suffering, she should have been there, holding his hand until the very end. Zack wasn’t close to his family and she pictured him dying alone. Her chest filled with anguish. Now, there wasn’t even a grave where she could visit him, ask for his forgiveness.

She discreetly wiped her tears as the motor pool attendant approached her. She rose and handed her papers. “Gracias.”

Tia sat behind the wheel of the Jeep with new resolve. Now more than ever, she had to watch for those she loved. If what she suspected was true, her mother might be in great danger.

Tears flowing freely on her face, Tia drove recklessly out of the base and into the countryside. She couldn’t grasp the thought of never seeing Zack again. She took a shortcut through the muddy jungle, on a trail barely wide enough for the vehicle. Tropical birds honked in the tall canopy of the tree tops. But all Tia could see in front of her was Zack’s face. She’d never stopped loving him, even after such a long separation. Now, she’d never see him again.

At the sight of a jaguar running through the underbrush toward the trail on a collision course, Tia slammed on the brakes. The tires slid on the muck and the engine stalled. She stopped barely two feet from the beast, who growled and swatted in her direction then vanished in one leap.

Tia glanced up, worried about emerald boas blending with the low branches in the jumble of vines and creepers, high among the orchids. Expecting a large snake to drop any second, she restarted the Jeep and buried the gas pedal, showering the ferns with mud. As she drove through the thick vegetation, the potent smell of humus and tropical flowers brought back memories of her childhood.

When she emerged from the forest onto the paved road, the familiar Andean mountains rose ahead, towering over a green valley. Tia drove down a winding road bordered on both sides by rows of lush coffee plants alternating with ribbons of rich cinnamon dirt. Somehow the sky seemed purer, and the breeze cooler than Tia remembered.

She slowed as she neared the village, to allow for the local traffic of cows and donkeys going to pasture, herded by barefoot children and barking dogs. A bell rang from the steeple of the old mission church, half a mile down by the river. Tia had come home.

How she wished she’d brought Zack here, showed him where she grew up... it was never meant to be. How she missed him. Quickly she pushed away the guilt of causing his demise and stifled the sobs that threatened to overcome her.

At her first glimpse of Hacienda Vargas from the high road, she recognized the long buildings housing the heavy equipment and lining the rectangular terra cotta patio. There, after each harvest, her father’s workers spread the coffee beans to dry. She remembered the sharp fragrance that filled the whole house at that time of year.

To the side, the plantation house also framed its own square patio. The pink tile roof had grayed a bit, but the farm had thrived since Tia’s last visit. The house now flaunted a swimming pool that reflected the aqua sky and played with gold rays of morning sunshine. Aqua… the color of Zack’s eyes.

Tia’s father spent most of his time in the US nowadays, and she hoped her mother would be home alone for her unannounced visit. This particular conversation required privacy.

She parked the Jeep in the cobbled front yard, next to a green open truck with wooden benches that shuttled the servants to town. Jumping off the Jeep, Tia wiped her eyes and hurried to the massive front door, scattering chickens in her path. The hinges grated as she entered. Inside, nothing had changed, from the traditional furniture to the coarse tile. Even the smell of wax and olive oil remained the same.

A servant boy she did not recognize met her in the front room. He shrunk at the sight of Tia’s jungle fatigues.

Smiling to the boy, she asked in Spanish, “Is the senora home?”

“She doesn’t wish to be disturbed, Capitan.” Obviously familiar with soldiers, the boy even identified her rank.

Impatience made Tia’s voice shorter than she intended. “She certainly wishes to see her own daughter.”

The boy’s gaze zoomed to Tia’s cadet portrait on the mantle of the fireplace, then back to her face. “Senorita Tia?”

“Yes, I am Tia.” With no time to waste, Tia left him to gape and strode toward the solarium, where her mother liked to read or paint in the morning. Tia knocked on the French door and barged in without waiting for a response.

Her mother sat, her back to the door, in a white cotton dress with soft ruffles and peasant lace, a book in hand. Her stuffed leather chaise faced the window. “I said I didn’t want to be disturbed”

How lovely the older woman looked, her long black hair loose, against the bay window opened on the rose garden. But Tia resented the tone her mother reserved to servants. “Can’t you be nicer to the help?”

Her mother jumped and turned at the voice, surprise and delight on her classic face. Her dark brown eyes sparkled. “Madre de Dios! Tia, is that really you?” She slapped the book shut, dropped it on the chaise and rose to meet her daughter.

Tia steeled herself for the effusive embrace she knew would follow and let the woman fawn over her and nearly constrict her breathing. She smelled of Chanel Number Five, just as Tia remembered.

Her mother let go of her, stepped back then straightened the embroidered bodice of her white cotton dress. “You should have called, chica, I’d have sent the cook to shop for a special lunch.”

The idea of a traditional Venezuelan home-cooked meal sounded heavenly, mainly since Tia had left before dawn without breakfast. “I’m sure the regular fare is fine. Besides, if I had called, you’d have escaped to one of your favorite monasterios just to avoid meeting me.”

“Nonsense.” The woman dismissed Tia’s remark with a wave of the hand. “But someone has to pray for your brother’s soul and it certainly won’t be you.” She looked Tia over with obvious disapproval. “You barely look like a woman in these clothes, and you remind me too much of Felipe. You should have been the one to die, not him. ”

What a thing to say! The comment stung but Tia was used to it. Besides, she knew her mother spoke from a place of deep grief. Tia managed to control her temper. “Felipe was an angel from God, I know. I miss him, too.” But she realized with a start that she missed Zack even more than her brother.

“You were always the strong one, chica. Never sick, never hurt, even the scratches on your skin healed within hours and never left a scar.” The older woman sighed. “Not Felipe... He was fragile, he needed me.”

“And, of course, I didn’t.” Tia had never needed anyone... The only person she ever needed was Zack, and she’d never see him again. Not in this life, anyway.

“You were always...” her mother searched for words, “different.”

“About that.” Tia wished she had more time to ease the topic into the conversation, but she had to report back to the base by nightfall. She wondered how to formulate the question she had come so far to ask. “Could you tell me what happened to you when you were expecting me?”

Her mother’s body tensed. “I don’t know what you are talking about, chica.”

Tia couldn’t believe such stubborn denial. “When I was a child you mentioned being abducted.”

The woman shook her head adamantly. “You must have misunderstood.”

But Tia couldn’t afford to let it rest and pressed on. “I remember you crying. I remember Papa yelling, telling you to shut up. He sent you away for a long time. Where did you go?”

After a short silence, her mother sighed. “These were the darkest months of my life.” She suddenly looked weak and dropped back on the chaise. “Order me some coffee, please.”

Tia went to the door and pulled the blue cordon. A bell rang in another room. Within seconds, the servant boy came running.

“Bring us coffee and some cachapa pancakes.” It was still breakfast time and Tia could eat an anaconda.

The boy bowed and left.

Picking up a wooden chair, Tia brought it close to the leather chaise then straddled it, staring at her mother. “We live in dangerous times, Mama. For your sake and mine, I need to know exactly what happened. I won’t leave until you tell me.”

Her mother seemed confused, or scared. “If your father ever hears of this...”

“I won’t tell him one word, I swear. But I do want the truth.”

After staring at Tia, her mother shrugged. “He sent me to a psychiatric ward.”

Tia suspected that much. “Why?”

“I was having hallucinations, and he couldn’t possibly have me around his business partners, talking nonsense about alien abduction.”

“Alien abduction is not nonsense.” Tia softened her voice as when talking to a child. “Are you sure these were hallucinations?”

“It was a long time ago, chica. They told me I was sick, and I believed them.”

“What did you see in these... visions?”

Her mother took a deep breath. “Monsters, evil spirits, horrible creatures…”

“I remember you drawing on Father’s desk pad.”

Smiling shyly, her mother held one finger across her lips for secrecy. “I kept the best ones.” She rose and went to a drawer chest. Digging into her neckline, she pulled out a small key. “Promise me you won’t tell.”

Reminded of a gentler time when she and her mother had many little secrets, Tia smiled. “Not a word.” She crossed her heart.

Her mother opened the drawer and pulled out a handful of pages yellowed with age. She spread them on the low table then pushed one in front of Tia. “This is my favorite.”

The drawing, very elaborate, had a striking resemblance to those Zack had sketched on the white board in his class at Camp Hell. The warrior, in full armor under a fluid cape, looked unmistakably Anaz-voohri. “What else do you remember of your... hallucinations?” Tia didn’t want to say abduction, as her mother obviously had problems dealing with the truth of it all.

Shivering, her mother gathered the drawings. She turned them over when the servant brought a tray to the table and poured coffee in blue mazagran mugs from an elegant silver pot. The rich aroma filled the room, reminding Tia of childhood breakfasts in the kitchen with the servants. She grabbed a pancake from the tray, rolled it up and bit into it without using plate or flatware, eliciting an arched brow from her mother. The honey buttermilk taste exceeded her expectations.

After the boy left, her mother absorbed herself in the contemplation of her coffee mug, the question seemingly forgotten.

Tia had to draw on her reserve of patience. “Will you tell me what you remember? Mama, please...”

“Are you sure you want to know, chica?” The compassionate tone surprised Tia.

“Yes, Mama. Only the truth can save my life.”

“Your life?” The older woman hesitated. “If I am to believe that my hallucinations were the truth... then it means that you are a child of evil.” She crossed herself quickly.

There it was. The answer Tia feared all along. She swallowed a sip of the smooth brew to ease the knot in her throat. “Tell me more.”

“Well, they certainly didn’t care about the torture they put me through.” Her mother’s eyes glazed over. “They did something to the baby girl in my womb, with needles, tubes, and strange strobe lights. They took great care when they did it, while I lay there in agony for hours.”

Horrified as much by what her mother went through as by the confirmation of alien interference in her genetic makeup, Tia started to understand why her mother always resented her. “Did they speak?”

“Only among themselves, in a language I didn’t understand, but it resembled the dialects of our local tribes.”

Of course, the Anasazi connection. “Can you describe where you were held?” Tia couldn’t keep her voice steady as fear inched its way into her mind.

“Vaguely.” The dark eyes gleamed with unshed tears. “I remember purple colors, bright lights, and funny little stick figures on the ceiling, one of them playing a flute.”

“Kokopelli?”

Her mother nodded. “The table felt like living skin. I hated that table. I was scared it would wake up and devour me.”

Shuddering with disgust, Tia still needed to know more. “Did they restrain you?”

“No need. I was paralyzed. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t speak. I was totally helpless to protect you.” Was it guilt on her mother’s face? “Forgive me, chica.”

Tia rose to join her mother on the chaise and took her hand. “You did nothing wrong, mama. They are the guilty ones. What do you think they did to me?” But Tia already knew.

“Something bad, something horrible.” Her mother crossed herself again. “They were determined, cruel. They threatened me in my mind. I was convinced they’d kill me if I told anyone.”

“Yet, you told Papa.”

“Only after several years, when I realized they were long gone. I needed to tell someone.” Her mother pulled a lace handkerchief out of her sleeve and dabbed at a tear. “I thought your father loved me enough to understand. I was mistaken.” She broke into wracking sobs.

Taking her mother in a warm embrace, Tia whispered, “I believe you, Mama.” She smoothed her mother’s glossy hair. “Did they change you in any way? Did you feel different afterwards?”

“I don’t think they did anything to me, it was you they meddled with.” The woman leaned her head on Tia’s shoulder. “I envy your strength, chica.”

Tears welled in Tia’s eyes. For a while, they cried in each other’s arms. But Tia realized she didn’t cry about being a hybrid. She cried because the only man she ever loved had died alone in a hospital bed, and her mistake had caused his death.

“I’m not as strong as I seem, Mama.” Tia cleared her throat and patted her mother’s back. “Don’t tell anyone about any of this. You are probably safe, but if the government learns about your abduction, I’m as good as dead.”

“Don’t worry, chica.” Her mother blew her nose. “I’ll keep your secret.”

As she consoled her mother, Tia harbored no more doubt about her hybrid nature. Her exceptional stamina and mental abilities had to be the result of DNA tampering by the Anaz-voohri. She was one of the hated mutants she’d been hunting for the past months. How ironic.

Had Tia really become the enemy? She’d heard of the hybrid hunter, Colonel Jason Carrick, nicknamed The Nazi. The new urban legend said he killed hybrids for sport and ate them for breakfast.

Due back on US soil, the new battleground, where she must lead her troops against other hybrids, could Tia still do her job? How long could she believe in her mission to save humanity without questioning herself? Worse, how long before she was discovered and hunted mercilessly?

* * * * *

Zack’s heart pounded fast as he opened the sealed envelope left on his desk, the one with the large confidential red stamp. It contained a folder with Tia’s name on it. Carrick had kept his promise. As Zack opened the folder, a highlighted line jumped to his attention. Married to a rich coffee grower in Venezuela and elected not to change her family name. A photograph showed Tia in a wedding gown, kissing a well dressed man in his late forties.

The pang of jealousy stabbed Zack with a sharp pain in his chest. Tia married to another man? How could this be? She’d always seemed so independent, what had changed her mind? This reeked of an arranged marriage, probably a business deal to consolidate her family estates. Apparently, giving up on love, Tia had married for money. The envelope also contained a note with Carrick’s handwriting.

I took the liberty of contacting the lady on your behalf. She made it clear she wanted no further contact with you. Sorry, pal. Forget the fucking bitch and let’s have a drink tonight to celebrate your freedom. PS: shred the file along with this note when you are finished.

After a last look at the picture, Zack fed the file to the shredder. How could he blame Tia? It had been so long, she had to move on sooner or later. Still, the rejection hurt. She didn’t even want to talk. Zack should have tried to contact her earlier. Then again, how could he have faced her in his diminished state? The world was a cruel place, and Zack swore he’d never let anyone steal his heart again.

Chapter Twenty

New York - Two months later

The feeling of freedom overwhelmed Zack, as he walked confidently out of the Manhattan Gym with Dylan. They now worked out every morning since Zack had recovered all his physical abilities... and more. Not only had his psychic talent returned a hundredfold, but it seemed that Zack’s strength had doubled and his agility and speed had increased as well. His incredible healing even included the gradual fading of the scars from the skin grafts on his back, something Zack hadn’t expected.

The smell of hot dogs and fries from the street vendors, the chilly spring breeze, even the contact of the khaki pants on his skin with each step made him feel glad to be alive. In his exhilaration, he could almost forget the suffering and the re-education he’d gone through to get there. To think that he’d wanted to end his life... It all seemed like a faraway nightmare. Only one thing in his life was missing, Tia. But Zack would never break a marriage. Tia had made her choice, and he would respect it and stay away.

Dylan slapped Zack’s shoulder as they approached an imposing glass structure. He pointed to the brushed steel logo of the Haepheon Technologies tower. “That’s the place.” His casual jeans and long hair didn’t quite match the formal building.

Zack whistled. “Are you sure this guy is a biologist?” Such fancy feat of architecture indicated a greater fortune than Archer’s track record suggested.

“It helps to be the son of a rich captain of industry, I guess. And the Defense Department pays well, but Archer’s really not like that. You’ll see. You’ll like him.” Dylan opened the heavy glass door for Zack.

“I’m not disabled anymore,” Zack railed as they entered the lobby of shiny steel, Italian marble floors with intricate borders, and green stone columns. “You don’t have to be so nice to me. I can kick your butt, now.”

“At your convenience.” Dylan took a smart bow. “But I’m nice to everyone, man, not just you.”

Zack wondered why Dylan had been so mysterious about working with Archer on the Lemnian Armor. And all Carrick said was that they’d be test subjects.

Dylan winked to the security guard in gray uniform behind the central lobby desk. “Hi, Ned.”

“Good Morning, Corporal Brady,” the security man said jovially. “Who is your friend?” Ned punched a few keys on a keyboard and Zack’s face appeared on the screen. “Ah! Captain Zack Duncan. I have a badge for you. First go through the metal detector. Once inside, you slide your pass to open the doors, but only in your area of clearance. No wandering around. Mr. Archer’s lab is on the fifty-seventh floor.”

Zack almost felt as if he were back at the Pentagon. “You don’t mess with security in this place, do you?”

“We have to be careful. We do important research in here.” Ned emphasized the we, as if he personally took credit for every scientific breakthrough performed in the building. A great attitude for a security guard.

Zack and Dylan emptied their pockets to go through the metal detector then joined a handful of white coats with badges waiting for the elevator. By the time they reached the upper levels, no one remained in the elevator but the two friends.

Zack had seen Archer’s file. He’d heard about the man from Carrick and Dylan and was eager to meet him. “So this is the place where they determine who is a hybrid and who is human?” Zack also thought of the ten percentile of inconclusive tests. Although it affected few individuals, as only a few dozen hybrids had been tested so far, it angered him to know that innocent people might get sacrificed in the name of global security.

The door opened on a sophisticated lab, with steel tables, marble counters, glass tubes, and a full array of plasma screens. At one end, a glass-walled office stood. At the other, an empty space behind a glass shield ended at a thick blast wall, lined with steel and nicked with bullet marks and black fire burns.

“What’s this for?” Zack found it odd to have this kind of set up at the top of a building.

“Weapon testing. You’ll see.”

Zack noticed the shells and half melted bullets on the floor. The nearby bullet-proof glass surrounding the area looked intact. If that glass and steel resisted the best modern weapons, they must be quite strong indeed.

Archer came out of his office to meet Zack and Dylan. Tall, in his thirties he had striking dark green eyes and short reddish-blond hair. Despite the white coat, Archer had the laid back attitude of an Indiana Jones, easygoing and sure of himself, but ready to pounce if anything went wrong. The nicks and scars on his face and hands attested to his military past. “Right on time.” He offered a strong handshake.

Zack liked Archer on sight. No compromise, no bullshit in this serious man. He lived for his work. Still, Zack couldn’t help ask, “How are you doing with reducing the ten percentile inconclusive hybrid DNA tests?”

Archer raised his brow. “You don’t waste time. I like that.” He led them around the lab and stopped in front of a tray holding a batch of test tubes. “I’ve been improving accuracy and speed. The inconclusive range is now seven percent and it takes only two months instead of three to get final results. Everything takes time.”

Zack inspected the tubes labeled with names. Nothing remained anonymous in this lab.

Archer picked up a tube labeled McDougall. “This one looks like it’s finally turned. See? It’s positive. This guy is definitely a hybrid.”

“Do you ever get to test people you know?” Zack knew how it felt to condemn a friend or a family member to death. He’d done it to his sister.

“I’ve been lucky so far. All I see is their files. This guy is a big liquor magnate. He lives in a mansion that looks more like a castle. He doesn’t know he is being investigated. A servant sent his DNA. According to the woman, they have regular secret meetings at his place. It could very well be a hybrid hub.”

“Good job.” Zack still wished there were a better way. “Carrick will be overjoyed.”

“Now, about our own experiments.” Archer led them to a wall where jellyfish-like suits hung in a glass case. “Did Dylan brief you?”

“Not at all.” Zack had a funny feeling when a smile passed between Dylan and Archer.

Archer used a remote and the glass case slid open. “I give you the Lemnian Armor.”

“Strange name.” Fascinated, Zack stared at the suits.

Dylan chuckled. “Archer is a bit of a Greek Mythology nut.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment. Many scientists were called nuts before me.” Archer rubbed the bridge of his nose. “In any case, Lemnian comes from the Greek Island of Lemnos, where Hephaistos, son of Zeus and Hera, forged magical armors for Achilles and made an invisible net to restrain his unfaithful wife, Aphrodite.”

“Wasn’t he also Vulcan, the god of the forge?” Zack still remembered a few history classes.

“Yep. That’s the Roman equivalent of Hephaistos.”

Zack finally got it. “Whereas the company’s name, Haepheon Technologies.” He reached out to touch the pearly gelatinous suits.

Archer grabbed Zack’s wrist with surprising speed and strength. “Not yet.”

“Yeah, man.” Dylan laughed. “These things bite. You need the shot first.”

Archer went to a stainless steel drawer chest and pulled out a wrapped injection gun with Zack’s name on the package. “Pull up your sleeve.”

Guinea pigs indeed. Zack obeyed but didn’t like the idea of risking his newfound health as a lab rat. “What’s this?”

“Nanobots.” Archer tore the wrapping and pulled out the injector. “Tiny little robots that interact with your blood. I already tuned the armor to your particular DNA and the nanobots will tune you to the armor, so you will work together as one.”

“And it doesn’t work without the shot?” Zack winced at the prick of the tiny needles in his forearm. Despite his long familiarity with hospitals, he still hated shots.

Archer injected the liquid slowly then removed the injector. “Not only it doesn’t work without the nanobots, but the armor would be lethal if anyone other than its rightful owner tried to wear it. “

Zack massaged the sore spot to facilitate blood flow. ”Neat trick. Why isn’t this widely used on the battlefield? What’s the catch?”

Archer opened another package. “These prototypes are priceless, of course, but even on a production line it would still cost over five million per armor...” He injected Dylan with his own dose of nanobots. “And the effects only last a few hours before the nanobots are rejected by the human body. I’m working on a longer-lasting formula.”

Zack’s curiosity won over his doubts. “So how do we do this?”

When Archer activated the remote, the hanger holding one of the jellyfish armors extended out of the case. Archer motioned to Zack. “This one’s yours. You take it and put it on.” If you had weapons, you’d wear them on the outside of the suit.

The material felt gelatinous to the touch, like a viscous rubber toy made to disgust kids. The suit opened and closed through a frontal zipper and included a tight hood. As soon as Zack stepped into the suit and zipped it up, the armor enveloped him seamlessly and became invisible. “Wow!” Zack touched himself but couldn’t feel the suit anymore.

“Now, activate it by touching your left wrist.”

Zack did it. “It tingles.”

“It’s working.” Dylan grabbed and donned his own suit. “Told you it was way cool!”

“No time to waste now.” Archer walked purposefully toward the other end of the floor, way ahead of the two friends. “Zack, you go to the far side of the shooting range.”

“You mean the blast wall full of bullet marks?” Zack wondered why he’d volunteered and resented Dylan for dragging him along.

“Oh, and wear these under your hood.” Archer threw him a pair of protective earmuffs. “So we can hear each other.”

Zack caught them and slipped them over his ears. The com system inside allowed him to hear Archer and Dylan talking behind the bullet-proof glass shield as he dragged his feet toward what looked like an execution wall.

Behind the glass, Archer grabbed an Uzi from a drawer, snapped a cartridge into the magazine and aimed through a shooting slot.

Zack didn’t like the feeling in his gut just now. “Eh! Are you sure this thing works?”

“We’ll find out, won’t we?” Archer fired a volley then another one.

The bullets glanced off about six inches from Zack’s body and fell on the floor or ricocheted and bounced on the walls.

Archer emptied the magazine then reloaded. “Are you okay?”

The first fear assuaged by the fact that he was still intact, Zack nodded but couldn’t really talk. He’d never been used for target practice before and still experienced a bit of a shock.

“Isn’t that awesome?” Dylan visibly had a grand time. “I almost wet my pants the first time I did this.” He snatched two weapons, joined Zack at the blast wall and threw him a laser gun, keeping the phase-gun.

Zack caught the weapon and checked his watch. “How long does this thing last, you said?”

“About four hours, more or less,” Archer confirmed through the earmuffs.

“I’ll keep an eye on the clock.” This fun game could become lethal if the armor suddenly shut down.

Archer aimed the Uzi at the two men. “Now let’s try the laser weapon, the phase-gun and the Uzi.”

“Together?” It seemed a bit much to Zack.

“Just like in the field, dude.” Obviously Dylan had done this before and enjoyed this new sport. “This time, we also shoot at each other.”

“Sweet Jesus!”

The following all out shooting made Zack wish he had better ear protection. When the armor proved effective against all these weapons, however, Zack figured Archer deserved his fortune and had good reason to be proud of his achievements.

* * * * *

A few days later, Zack in green camouflage took his position, with Carrick and four hundred ORION soldiers, in the thick forest surrounding the McDougall mansion. Zack had come full circle and finally found himself in a combat situation, almost as if his ordeal had only been a nightmare. But he wasn’t the enthusiastic youth who’d taken arms against the Anaz-voohri years ago. Such trials changed a man.

So far, the stealth operation had gone according to plan. Tour busses, vans and other civilian vehicles had surreptitiously dropped off troops in various strategic positions over the past twenty four hours. Now they lay in wait.

Deployed outside the electric fence, far enough from the gate to avoid being seen or detected by the guard dogs, Zack couldn’t see the mansion itself. He used the satellite locator to give him an image from the sky. Through his binoculars he also surveyed the gate. Shortly after sunset, cars started arriving at a good pace. The satellite showed two dozen cars on the front lawn and more crossed the gate in a steady flow.

“Our informant was right.” Carrick said, watching the gate through his binoculars. “It does look like a meeting is taking place tonight.”

Zack adjusted the night vision glasses on his helmet. “There might be as many as a hundred hybrids in there. Do we have enough men?” Zack remembered the fierce super-soldiers defending the cave where he’d been so severely injured. Two of them had butchered an entire unit. “Do we know what kind of weapons they have?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Carrick said curtly. “We are trained, and we have the element of surprise. We even have missile launchers and emergency air cover on standby.” He punched his epad. “How are you doing with that electric fence?”

The epad emitted background noise. “Ready to disable it on your signal, Colonel.”

“Good job. Stand by.” Carrick nodded to Zack. “Let’s wait until they are all here. We wouldn’t want to miss any of these mother-fuckers.”

Having met trained hybrids in combat before, Zack didn’t share Carrick’s optimism. “My sixth sense tells me this seems too easy. What if it’s a trap?”

“Do not confuse your sixth sense with cowardice, Zack.” Carrick winked, as if to take the sting out of the insult. “Even if they are waiting for us, we still outnumber them four to one. What better odds can a soldier wish for?”

Still, Zack was glad he’d get to test the Lemnian armor in the field for the first time. He also felt relieved that young Dylan worked on another assignment. This raid had the potential to turn out ugly. “Tell me before you give the order, so I have time to suit up.”

Carrick snorted. “Aren’t you the fucking bride, today. How much time do you need to get all pretty in your high tech armor?”

“Just a few minutes.”

Carrick’s epad buzzed. “I see no more headlights coming this way, colonel.” That was the sentinel watching the country road at the intersection, five miles away from the mansion.

Carrick motioned toward Zack’s sturdy bag. “You better get your magic suit on, my friend.”

Feverishly, Zack pulled out the injection gun and applied the dose of nanobots to his arm. He removed his weapons belt then carefully opened the bag containing the jellyfish as he now called the armor. He slipped into it then zipped it up.

Carrick, the only one close enough to see Zack clearly, looked stunned. “Fucking amazing!”

“You’ve seen nothing yet.” Zack buckled his weapon belt back on. “Now I’m ready.”

“Everyone standby,” Carrick said in his com system. “Electric fence?” he asked in his epad.

The epad buzzed. “Fence power down in three, two, one, now.”

“Let’s go,” Carrick ordered in his com system. “Let’s get these mother-fuckers!”

The vanguard cut the fence and the woods came alive with running soldiers. Zack stepped through the fence onto the freshly mowed grass, followed by many other troops. They converged toward the mansion from all directions. Zack wanted to make sure they wouldn’t be attacked from the rear, so he followed the fence to the gate and snuck behind the security booth. When he readied to fire, however, he discovered the guards gone, vanished. That couldn’t be good.

Worse, the gate that would logically close in case of emergency had been left wide open. It didn’t make sense unless... they were expected!

Sprinting to the forefront, Zack caught up with Carrick. “I think it’s a trap. The guards left and the gate is open.”

“The cowards probably ran and didn’t take the time to close it.” Carrick didn’t slow down.

But Zack didn’t buy that explanation. Something smelled fishy, and it wasn’t his jellyfish. A flare went up from the mansion’s roof and the soldiers became visible like in full daylight on the empty lawn.

“It’s a trap!” Carrick yelled in his com system.

Automatic weapons and sizzling phase-guns fired from the second story windows of the mansion. Soldiers screamed and fell. More flares flashed and smoke filled the air. Men lay on the lawn, stunned through their bullet proof vests, or severely injured. A few smoldered, burned by phaser weapons.

“Take cover!” Carrick ordered while seeking refuge behind a parked car. “Where are our missile launchers?”

“Right behind you, Colonel,” a soldier answered.

Carrick stepped out of the line of fire. “Shoot through the windows!” A hint of hysteria tainted his voice.

“Aye, sir.” The recruit loaded, aimed then fired. The missile traveled toward the mansion, but about fifteen feet short of the building it exploded against an invisible wall that shimmered briefly. “No hit,” the soldier yelled. “Target still intact.”

“Fucking bastards. The mansion is shielded? How is this possible?”

Zack had seen that kind of shield before, on the mountaintop where he’d met his sister for the very last time. “We are dealing with friends of the Anaz-voohri. What did you expect, an easy victory? Their masters have armed them well.”

“Charge the building!” Carrick ordered in a frenzy.

“I would advise against it, Carrick. I’m sure that shield is deadly.”

“I intend to find out,” Carrick said with scorn.

Just then, several soldiers hit the shield and screamed, incinerated on contact, sizzling as high voltage current coursed through their bodies. The stench of charred flesh filled the air along with smoke. In the distance, the cries of frightened horses in the stables contributed to the confusion. The next wave crawled toward the mansion then stopped and fired, but bullets, lasers and phase fire bounced off the shield at close range and threatened the soldiers themselves.

“Pull back!” Carrick ordered. To Zack he confided, an edge of panic in his voice, “This is a disaster.” He pulled out his epad. “We need air cover. We are dying over here. Send all you’ve got. Hurry!”

Soon, more phase fire sizzled, but it came from behind the soldiers. Turning to face the new threat, Zack realized ORION’s forces were spread too thin around the mansion. An army of hybrids had surrounded them and advanced on the ORION troops. Where had they come from?

Caught in the cross fire, the ORION soldiers didn’t stand a chance. The cars they used for protection exploded in their midst, one after another.

Zack kept firing, but the hybrids wore protective gear not unlike his, and no bullets, laser, or phase fire could touch them. They kept their distance and blasted steadily. It became clear, however, that the four hundred soldiers wouldn’t hold until air cover and reinforcements arrived.

As he shot back, Zack shielded his friend Carrick with his own armored body. Carrick had given Zack his life back, and what better time to return the favor? As Zack watched the surrounding carnage with horror, two whole companies fell to hybrid weapons. With no possible cover, no protection against phase-guns, and flares giving away their position, they were trapped in a ring of fire, plucked one by one until only Zack and Carrick remained standing.

With most ORION soldiers out of commission, the hybrids grew brave and stepped into the circle of light to finish off the wounded. They approached Zack and Carrick menacingly. Back to back, the two friends kept shooting, to no avail.

Soon the hybrids ceased fire, and so did Zack and Carrick. It was over.

A man in a fancy paramilitary outfit, carrying a small crossbow, stepped forward and aimed at Carrick. “This one is The Nazi, the hybrid hunter.” As others stepped forward, the man stopped them with one hand. “Back off. He’s mine.”

Zack moved in front of Carrick as the man shot his fancy crossbow. The short bolt bounced off Zack’s armor. The now enraged man kept firing bolts in Carrick’s direction. Finally, out of patience, he dropped the crossbow, pulled out a knife and charged.

Zack stepped forward, and the contact of the two armors sent both men flying in a different direction. This gave the other hybrids a pause. As Zack glanced at Carrick, a tall woman in a hunting outfit swiftly picked up a fallen bolt and rushed to stab Carrick from behind.

“Watch out,” Zack yelled as he lunged in an attempt to protect his friend. Too late. Zack fired, but his weapon had no effect.

Carrick turned just in time to face the woman but didn’t duck fast enough. He screamed as the bolt pierced his left eye, and he collapsed.

The roar of the rescuing fleet of Black Hawks shook the ground and the surrounding woods. As commandos dropped to the ground, the hybrids suddenly panicked and ran back toward the mansion where a pillar of light just opened. The hybrids rushed to the light and stepped into it, then ascended toward the waiting Anaz-voohri ship that had probably been there, cloaked all this time.

Tempted to run after them, Zack realized it would be futile to throw himself into the maws of the beast. Besides, his friend needed help.

As helicopters landed on the lawn and the Anaz-voohri ship flew away under heavy fire from fighter planes, Zack turned off his armor so he could touch Carrick. “How are you doing, buddy?” Zack propped Carrick to a sitting position against his thigh, trying not to jostle him.

“Fucking hybrid bastards!” Carrick hissed. With a trembling hand, he seized the bolt embedded into his eye.

“Slow down, buddy. Don’t make it worse.” Zack restrained Carrick’s hand. “Let the surgeons do that.”

“Fuck off!” Carrick jerked out the bolt from his eye. Blood surged and poured over his face, dripping from his chin to his uniform. “I’ll hunt these bastards down to the last one, if it takes the rest of my life.”

Zack moved aside to let the paramedics take care of Carrick. All around him, other medical staff took away the wounded. Most of them seemed beyond hope. So many lives lost...

Intense hatred distorted Carrick’s face... Although shocked by it, Zack couldn’t really blame his friend for hating the hybrids. Zack, too, had a score to settle... with the Anaz-voohri.

Chapter Twenty-One

China - Beijing Center for Evolutionary Medicine

Tonight, Kin’s torture would finally end. He had enough of the agonizing injections that drove him to the brink of insanity. Every day since the ORION soldiers had killed his hybrid parents and brought him to the CEM in Beijing, Kin had endured the painful process that would make him one of ORION’s ultimate killing machines. No more...

As he checked himself in the mirror of his hospital cell, Kin willed himself to blend with shadows. Instantly he disappeared against the background, and when he moved, he became a blur, a light smudge the casual eye wouldn’t notice. His captors probably didn’t expect this side effect of his treatment and would be in for a surprise.

The eager scientists had grossly underestimated Kin’s abilities. Otherwise, they’d have taken more security measures. Probably due to Kin’s hybrid genes, the recombinant DNA injections had triggered some natural defense mechanism. Now, at any time he chose, Kin’s skin color and clothes would blend with the environment like that of a chameleon.

At the clunk of the automatic door unlocking his room, Kin came back to the visible world and to the task at hand. Time for his evening meal. Resolutely, he stepped into the hallway and forced himself to walk casually toward the cafeteria. He hoped Shani would be there early, too.

Although his mind refused to go along with ORION’s brainwashing propaganda, Kin had led his captors to believe that he’d accepted his imposed destiny. The lie had gained him a limited amount of freedom inside the secure facility. Tonight, Kin would take advantage of his privileges to escape, but not alone. He’d take Shani with him.

The teenage girl born from a hybrid mother in Beijing, waited for him in the brightly lit cafeteria. How pretty, how fragile she looked. Although she was a warrior like him, she was too thin, too pale, her eyes too big in their sockets. Her long black hair had lost all luster.

He joined her at the table. “Are you ready?”

Shani nodded.

“I’m too excited to be hungry,” Kin whispered. He wanted to take her hand but too many guards watched from the mezzanine above.

Shani smiled and indicated her tray. “You have to eat. We don’t know when we’ll get our next meal.”

She was right. “I’ll get something.” Kin rose, went to the buffet and dished out a cupful of fried rice on a plate.

When Shani spotted Kin returning, her eyes lit up like stars. She hadn’t been at the CEM very long, but Kin could tell she wouldn’t survive the treatments if she stayed. The scientists treated hybrid offspring as lab rats to advance their research. They didn’t seem to care if the weakest died.

“I will follow you anywhere,” Shani said as he sat down. “Under one condition.”

“What condition?” Taking her along in his wild escape represented a risk. But what else could he do? Leave her to die? Worse... she could become an ORION agent.

Shani stared at him seductively. “Promise me that you will never leave me once we are outside.”

Kin had to smile. He liked the girl, more than he would admit to anyone, even to himself. “I promise.” And he meant it. “Once outside, let’s get married.”

Shani rewarded him with a glow that flushed her pretty face and gave lovely color to her high cheeks.

Given the superhuman strength and endurance he had developed during his extended stay at the Beijing CEM, Kin had no doubt his escape from the secure facility would succeed. Shani, however might constitute a problem. She, too, had some training, but not as much. Like Kin, she’d hid the fact that she could run fast and jump as high as any Ninja. Kin also hoped his newfound ability of blending with shadows would compensate, somehow, and give them a better chance to evade their captors.

“Meet me in the flower garden out back.” Kin rose and left the cafeteria. In the hallway, he turned toward the back of the building. Nodding to the guards at the door, he went out for a walk in the enclosed garden.

The soft breeze carried the chirp of the cicadas and the sweet fragrance of lilacs. In the free world, people celebrated spring and romance, and soon Kin would, too. Despite the slight chill of the night, he felt warm and the blood pulsed hard throughout his body. He sat on a dimly lit bench and waited for Shani. She wandered out with nonchalance and came to sit next to him.

They’d made a habit of chatting after dinner. Although the guards frowned upon fraternizing patients, they knew these two by now and turned away whenever Kin and Shani stole a kiss. Kin counted on their laxity. The bench stood in front of a hedge of ten feet lilacs in full bloom. Behind the lilacs, the high wall rose, topped by coils of razor wire.

Kin encircled Shani’s waist and whispered in her ear, “When they turn away, we leap over the wall.”

“I love you,” she said softly, melting Kin’s heart but steeling his resolve.

He had to save her. Keeping his eyes on the guards, Kin whispered, “Now!”

Both rose and jumped up fifteen feet, over the barbed coils, to land on the soft grass outside the wall. Kin had never seen the place where they stood. Dark and not as well maintained as the CEM, it looked like a public park.

“Run,” Kin encouraged Shani, although he had no idea where to go.

As they raced away from the wall, an alarm shattered the night. Sirens followed and searchlights scanned the immediate area outside the fence. Blending with shadows, Kin remained behind Shani in hopes his natural shield would mask her from the sentries as well.

Dogs barked in the distance and the excited voices of the guards shouted orders.

Shots pinged around them from the roof of the CEM. The sizzle of phase fire ignited a tree along their path. The guards wouldn’t give up easily. Kin would bet they had strict orders not to let any subject of this ultra-secret experiment escape alive. The searchlights swept the ground around them and soon they ran across a lawn flooded with light. More shots exploded… automatic fire.

Kin saw Shani falter in front of him. “No!” He caught her in his arms and kept running. He had to find cover. A small shack, probably a tool shed, offered shelter from the searchlights. Kin ran for it. No point trying to get inside the shack, it would only become a trap. He deposited Shani on the ground behind the shed to check her injury.

Blood poured out of the gaping hole where the large projectile had both pierced and exited her chest. She smiled feebly. “Save yourself,” she rasped. “It’s too late for me.”

Kin realized with horror that he couldn’t save the girl he loved. She was so young, so beautiful, and dying. He squeezed her hand and tears dripped down his chin.

“Kiss me,” she begged. “I’m scared.”

How could he refuse? Kin bent to kiss her and as their lips met, he felt the last breath escape her chest. She was gone. Barely containing his rage, he stared at her inert body to imprint the image upon his mind forever. ORION had murdered his family and now their guards had killed Shani as well. On Shani’s head, he swore they would pay dearly for their evil actions.

The bark of approaching dog patrols set Kin to blend with shadows again. He mouthed a silent goodbye to Shani then sprinted toward the glow of the city, toward freedom. Away from the streetlights he spotted a dark alley between two low buildings with pagoda roofs. He hid there, invisible, but two soldiers with a dog rushed up the narrow alley. The Doberman came straight at Kin. Even in his invisible state, the animal could smell him.

To avoid detection, Kin leapt to the rooftop. He waited then dropped on one soldier and neatly snapped his neck. Stealing the dead man’s weapon, Kin shot the second soldier in the head, snatched the other gun then leapt back to the safety of the roof. He’d acted so fast, the baffled Doberman still barked at empty air as more soldiers arrived.

Hopping from roof to roof like a cat burglar, balancing on slanted tiles, Kin vanished into the night among the many pagodas of Beijing. His heart roiled with frustrated rage. He’d just killed two men and felt they deserved to die, but it didn’t calm his growing anger. Kin swore he’d kill again and again, until those responsible for the death of his loved ones found their just karma in this lifetime. And beware anyone standing in his way.

* * * * *

Washington, DC - Five years later - 2019

Zack hated formal fund raisers, mainly the ones in Washington, DC that included politicians, whom he never trusted. Around the grand ballroom aglow with chandeliers, the banners said, Re-elect Silas Grant. To the side a chamber orchestra played soft music that muffled the laughter and the conversations. Distinguished guests in tuxedos and ladies in stunning evening gowns danced sedately or mingled around the dance floor.

Loosening the starched collar under his bowtie, Zack turned to Carrick. “I should never have agreed to come along.”

Carrick, who harbored a silk eye-patch matching the navy blue of his parade uniform, frowned. His single blue eye glinted with resentment. “What’s your fucking problem? I couldn’t possibly bring a woman tonight. I intend to court Tierney and officially talk to her father.” Since he’d lost his eye to a hybrid woman five years ago, during the McDougall mansion fiasco, Carrick had stubbornly refused any biological or electronic implant.

Zack stifled a sigh. “The eye-patch is a nice touch. That and the new General stars on your lapel should sweep her off her feet.” Zack refrained from further sarcasm. After all, Carrick’s personal life was none of his business.

“I’ll stick with what God gave me and I’ll do without what he took away.” Carrick winked, as if he still had two eyes. “Besides, the patch has a certain charm. Women find it appealing.”

“Yeah. You look quite the hero.” Zack’s snide tone belied the compliment.

Since Carrick considered Zack a friend and kept confiding in him, Zack had no choice but to accept it. He found it more difficult each day to cope with Carrick’s arrogance. But the man was his boss, now at the top position in ORION, the international secret police of the GSS. Realizing his dream of grandeur, Carrick had become one of the most powerful and most feared individuals on the planet. Still, Zack disapproved of Carrick’s methods, whether at work or in his private life.

For a long time, Zack had felt indebted to Carrick for his miraculous recovery in the care of Dr. Devertas. Since he’d returned the favor by saving Carrick’s life, however, Zack found it increasingly difficult to pretend to care about the ruthless bully.

“In any case,” Carrick said, debonair as ever, “I see my sweetheart coming this way and I’m going to ask her for a dance.”

“Good luck.” Zack threw at Carrick’s retreating back.

Scanning the crowd, Zack searched for Archer, who’d decided to attend in spite of his mysterious fall from grace with the Grant family. Zach wondered what that was all about but had been warned not to ask.

President Grants’ popularity had grown in the past few years, due to his tackling of the Anaz-voohri threat. He’d revived the Star Wars program and promised to rid America of hybrids. Since ORION remained a very secret organization, Grant had taken credit for all the hybrids arrested on US soil. So far he seemed to have succeeded in keeping America safe, but for how long? In Zack’s opinion, as soon as the Anaz-voohri took the offensive again, Earth was still no match for them.

Glancing up toward the majestic staircase at the other end of the room, where the President and the First Lady greeted some arriving guests, Zack did a double take. A tall, sexy woman in a revealing red ruffled dress, like that of a Flamenco dancer, shook the President’s hand then descended the steps at the arm of a handsome Hispanic gentleman.

A strange feeling constricted Zack’s throat. Tia and her rich husband? Yes, it was the man from the wedding photograph in the secret file. The room seemed to waver, and Zack had to hold on to a chair to remain standing. Here she was, the woman who’d broken his heart, more stunningly beautiful than in his wildest memories, and graceful as a queen. The man beside her looked older but vibrant. The confrontation Zack had avoided all these years had finally come.

Seeing her flaunt her happiness stabbed him deep. To think that she’d discarded him after he’d saved her life and moved on to better pastures. Women could be so opportunistic, even Tia.

But Zack would not give her the satisfaction to see how much she hurt him. He’d play it cool and charming. Could he make her regret her rich marriage? Taking a deep breath, he gathered his courage and made his way through the crowd of guests, toward the grand staircase.

* * * * *

At the arm of her father, recently appointed Venezuelan Ambassador in the US, Tia descended the wide stairs toward the crowded ballroom, aware of lusty looks from the men around her. She smiled as duty commanded. What was she thinking when she’d accepted the invitation? Half-way down the staircase, a waiter carrying a tray of Champagne flutes stopped in front of Tia and she accepted a glass. She would need the drink if she was to get through this fund raiser without losing her cool.

So far Tia had evaded random DNA testing, but she knew it was only a matter of time before someone discovered her hybrid nature. And tonight, in this palatial mansion among the political elite, she felt like a lamb surrounded by wolves. One in particular frightened her, General Jason Carrick, now the head of ORION. She’d just seen his name on the guest list at the door.

Although hybrid, Tia never had any contact with the Anaz-voohri, except to fight them off at gun point. Once in a while some vague dream of space left her confused and scared in the morning, but that was the extent of her connection with the enemy.

Of course, she’d quickly deducted that not all hybrids connived against the human race, but who could she tell without arousing suspicion? The hybrid hunters out there didn’t really care or even want to know. ORION’s game of search and destroy played out with frightening efficiency.

“I see my good friend Armando,” her father said in accented English. “Do you mind if I go pay my respects and smoke a cigar on the balcony?”

“Not at all, Papa.” Tia nodded and her father left her side to weave his way back up the crowded staircase toward the balcony.

As Tia reached the last steps of the stairs, she scanned the room hoping to find someone she knew, although she had given up the social scene long ago. Somewhere in the back, her eyes caught a man walking toward her, slowly, almost hesitantly. Tia stared at his familiar face, unbelieving. She was seeing a ghost. He looked magnificent, wholesome in death as he wasn’t in life. The blood retreated from her extremities. She felt suddenly cold and dropped her champagne glass. “Madre de Dios.”

A server rushed to clean up the mess but Tia ignored him. She couldn’t tear her gaze from the handsome ghost. He looked taller than she remembered and his steps gained confidence as he came closer. How much she missed him. Amusement danced in his clear aqua eyes. His face looked older, sterner than she remembered. The high forehead had gathered a few worry lines and the chestnut hair, longer and more luxuriant than when she knew him all those years ago, gave him a feral look that sent shivers through her body.

The guilt of causing all his suffering suddenly came back to her. She’d also realized after his death that although he probably hated her, she’d abandoned him in his hour of need, another source of guilt. Had the weight of her mistakes finally caught up with her? Now his handsome ghost would haunt her until the day she died, and Tia welcomed the punishment.

Zack’s ghost smiled, then he spoke. “You look incredibly beautiful tonight. I’ve never seen you in such a sexy gown. This red suits you.”

“Zack?” Self-conscious about talking to a ghost, Tia looked around for any sign of strange happenings. No outlandish wind blew the chandeliers and no one seemed to find her exchange out of the ordinary.

“Could I have this dance?” He seemed rather amused by her state of shock.

Could one dance with a ghost without disgracing herself? Tia couldn’t resist his offered hand and found it quite warm and solid under hers. “Are you alive?” The possibility, although implausible, made her dizzy.

Zack caught her waist and his cynical laughter chilled her. “Alive? What kind of question is that?” He led her toward the dance floor.

“I was told you had succumbed to your infirmities.” Tia struggled with the wave of repressed feelings that weakened her legs. How was this possible? She fought not to break into sobs, not here, not now.

“Who told you I was dead?” His expression softened but he looked perplexed as he started moving to the music.

“I received an official message from the CEM in New York, saying you had died and your ashes had been scattered into space.”

“Really?” Zack missed a step. He looked as stunned as she felt. “And you believed it?”

“It made sense... Last time I saw you, the doctors told me...” Not only Tia felt like a fool, but the warmth of his arm around her waist as they resumed dancing, brought back other memories of his body close to hers.

“That was many years ago.” Zack’s tone held reproach, but his face quickly relaxed. “Not only am I alive, but I feel better than ever, especially in the past few minutes.”

“But you are... walking! How is this possible?” Tia hated herself for never questioning the sad news. How could she ever forgive herself?

“It seems we have a lot of catching up to do.” He brought her closer to him, guiding her steps to the music. “Not only can I walk, but I can dance.”

Hope welled in Tia’s chest as their bodies moved to the slow rhythm. “Why didn’t you contact me?”

“Well, you married a rich coffee grower... Didn’t you tell my friend you wished no further contact with me?” Zack raised his brow.

“I never said such thing. No friend of yours ever contacted me. And you really believed I got married?” Tia’s confusion grew. “My father always wanted me to marry a coffee grower, but that would mean leaving the military. Can you imagine me playing housewife?” Tia didn’t like playing games and this felt so bizarre, she found herself defensive.

“So you refused?” Zack looked intrigued.

“Of course, I refused.” Tia wondered where he heard such lies.

“Then, who was that gentleman who came with you?” Did she detect an edge to his voice? A hint of jealousy perhaps?

Surprised, Tia had to chuckle as she shook her head. “I came with my father.”

“Ah.” He seemed relieved. “Is there any other man in your life right now?”

Still under the shock of this unlikely reunion, Tia finally relaxed and enjoyed Zack’s proximity. How she’d missed his touch, and the musky scent of his aftershave. “There is no one in my life, only my job.”

“Really?” Zack’s smile brightened his face. “I followed you from afar, read about you on the net. Congratulations on your many successful raids.”

“My unit kicked some Anaz-voohri butt if that’s what you mean.” Tia couldn’t believe he’d kept up with her. Could Zack have forgiven her? Did he still have feelings for her after all these years? She basked in his presence, his voice, his strong hand on her waist. “Whoever told you I was married?”

Zack’s expression darkened and his jaw tightened but he didn’t answer.

“What about you?” Tia asked to change the touchy subject. “I see a lot must have happened.”

Zack hesitated, as if choosing his words. “Luck, and the miracle of new science.”

Tia had no doubt that he’d skipped the despair, the struggle, the hopelessness, the suffering. “The results are astonishing. What are you doing these days?”

At that moment, the dance ended, and another couple approached them. Tia recognized with horror the eye-patch of the legendary hybrid hunter. At his arm was a blond beauty, the President’s daughter.

General Carrick smiled at Tia and slapped Zack’s shoulder. “My friend, allow me to introduce the ravishing Tierney Grant.”

Fighting to remain cool despite the panic growing inside her, Tia offered her hand to the First Daughter. “Delighted. I’m Tia Vargas.” Although she’d never met Tierney, Tia felt some kind of kinship with the beautiful girl. She smiled as they shook hands, and felt a tingle run up her arm. Immediately, she knew Tierney to be special, somehow. There was an aura about her.

Zack’s clear gaze fixed on Tia. “Allow me to introduce you to my boss of many years, General Jason Carrick.” His tone suddenly grew cold.

When Carrick deposited a kiss on Tia’s fingers, she experienced a shiver of disgust. Zack looked angry and remained eerily silent.

Tia turned to Zack. “You work for ORION?” She felt as if she was falling off a tall building.

“Not only he works for me,” Carrick added with obvious pride, “but we are best friends. He even saved my life. And he has a knack for detecting hybrids. He is personally responsible for finding hundreds of them.”

“I see...” Ice took hold of Tia’s chest.

Carrick’s cold blue eye squinted as he studied her. “Tia Vargas, you said? The name rings a bell. Have we met before?” He looked puzzled.

“I would definitely remember if we did.” Life had played a terrible joke on Tia. Just when she thought her life might finally make sense again, she discovered that Zack was the very person she should avoid at all cost, one of the fiercest hybrid hunters. Jason Carrick’s right hand!

Carrick stared at Tia with amusement in his eye, as if he remembered something funny. It made Tia even more uncomfortable. She couldn’t stand looking at him.

A lanky man in his late thirties, handsome and very serious, walked purposefully toward Carrick and Zack. All in the group seemed to recognize him but Tia didn’t.

“Hi,” the man said awkwardly. “My name is Archer,” he said for Tia’s benefit. His dark green eyes hardened when he saw the proprietary way in which Carrick held Tierney Grant. He glanced at Zack, then Tia.

“She’s cool,” Zack said with a friendly grin. “She’s OES and she has clearance.”

Archer straightened his back. “I just received a call from the lab. We may have a hybrid mole in the GSS. We have to warn the President, now and take security measures.”

Carrick’s face hardened. “Fucking hybrids! If it has come to this, we’ll have to test everyone in the government.” Carrick bowed to the women and took his leave.

Zack smiled sadly as he squeezed Tia’s hand. “I have to go. Contact me through official channels at ORION. I’d love to continue this chat real soon.”

Disheartened by the news of Zack’s job and the prospect of more hybrid testing, Tia only nodded, unable to speak. She had to leave this place immediately and stay away from Washington. How long could she avoid being discovered?

As soon as Zack walked away, Tia went in search of her father. She found him in an adjacent study, smoking a cigar while conversing with government officials. “Sorry, Father. I’m not feeling well. I’m leaving.”

“Really?” Her father looked surprised but didn’t remark on it. It wasn’t like Tia to wimp out for such a reason. “Take the car back to the embassy and ask the chauffeur to return for me.”

Tia smiled “No need. I’ll just catch a cab.” She turned and walked away, denying her father any chance to protest.

Outside the mansion, she asked the valet for a taxi. The young man signaled the first waiting vehicle in the nearby line. When it pulled to the curb, he opened the door for Tia. She slid into the back seat.

After the door closed, she told the driver, “To the airport, as quickly as you can.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

New York – Spring 2020

Zack checked his navy blue dress-uniform in the wall mirror of his New York apartment then glanced at his watch for the fourth time. What was taking so long? Probably traffic. Archer’s limo had to pick up Dylan and Carrick along the way. But he shouldn’t worry. Archer’s private jet would wait for them. They’d get to Washington in plenty of time to attend the state funeral.

As his epad jingled, Zack dropped on the black leather couch. An incoming message. Tia? Full of hope, he read, Sorry I had to leave so suddenly on a classified mission. Wish I could attend the funeral. I miss you. Take care.

Not quite the romantic note Zack anticipated. The return address was blocked. No way to even respond. But what did he expect? Tia had disappeared from the fund raiser without as much as a goodbye, and he couldn’t find a message box to her name.

So why did she contact him now, after three months of total silence? The logical answer would be that her job prevented her from contacting him sooner, but Zack didn’t buy it. His gut feeling told him something else was going on, but what?

The message also included strange lines that didn’t mean anything and Zack recognized the code Tia had given him during their happy years to exchange secret messages. His heart raced. Once decoded, however, the lines read, Not all hybrids are working for the Anaz-voohri. Beware of Carrick’s self-serving elimination of unwanted elements. He probably arranged the accident that killed the First Lady.

Although preposterous and even shocking, the accusation did strike a chord in Zack’s mind. Since he realized Carrick had falsified Tia’s confidential file and most likely sent the notice of his death, Zack didn’t trust Carrick about anything. The opportunistic bastard would stop at nothing to achieve his dream of grandeur.

Rumor had it in ORION that the President’s wife had refused DNA testing, and that made her a prime suspect for being a hybrid. Her fatal car accident had conveniently eliminated her without creating a political uproar. The discovery of a hybrid in the white house would have discredited President Grant and compromised his re-election. And Carrick needed his friend Grant to remain in the white house.

Zack hated politics.

The part about not all hybrids working for the Anaz-voohri didn’t surprise him, either. He wondered how Tia came by that information, but his psychic search sometimes brought up hybrids that didn’t have any contact with the enemy. Some of them didn’t even suspect they were hybrids. When that happened, Zack usually neglected to mention them to Carrick, who would not hesitate to have them killed.

Unknown to anyone in ORION, Zack carefully screened his search. He only reported hybrids actively plotting against humanity. If discovered, his omissions could get him court-martialed for treason. After all, the world was at war. Zack often wondered whether Dylan did the same but never asked. Such subversive talk could get them both killed.

The epad beeped and Dylan’s voice came through. “Hurry up, we are downstairs.”

“Coming!” Zack rushed into the freight elevator, set the alarm from his epad then went down.

Archer’s limo waited at the curb. Zack stepped in as the door opened and smiled at Dylan, all dressed up like Carrick and himself in a navy blue uniform. Archer, who wasn’t military anymore, wore a black Armani suit and looked particularly somber.

“It’s nice of you to offer your private jet,” Zack commented, but Archer didn’t lighten up.

Dylan smiled, as usual, as if he had no care in the world.

When Zack met Carrick’s single blue eye, he thanked the powers that be that the man couldn’t read his thoughts. Zack wondered whether Carrick knew Zack figured out his little scheme. But even though Zack burned to know exactly why Carrick had falsified Tia’s records, it wasn’t worth losing his life over it, or worse, Tia’s life. So he kept quiet. Let Carrick think he was the master puppeteer.

* * * * *

Washington, DC, same day

After a short plane ride and several traffic bottlenecks around Washington, DC, Zack slipped on his sunglasses against the noon sun. Now sitting next to Archer, in ORION’s open black Hummer, he faced Dylan and Carrick. Staring at Carrick’s eye-patch, Zack felt trapped in a macabre farce. If the man had really ordered the execution of the First Lady, he had some nerve parading at her funeral. To think that the bastard had told Tia Zack had died... anger churned in his chest.

Not since the funeral of John F. Kennedy had the crowds gathered for such an event. The affair looked grandiose indeed, with flags at half-mast. Black silk banners, hanging from the light poles along Pennsylvania Avenue, framed the black and white portrait of Janine Grant. The lack of color didn’t do justice to her fiery head of hair. Stately orchestras played somber music from the stands.

The Hummer rolled at a turtle pace, four rows behind the open hearse. The American flag draped the casket, buried under a mountain of white flowers. A procession of black convertibles, three abreast, followed in an ostentatious cortege half a mile long. The Secret Service Motorcycle Unit, on Harley Davidsons, all black shine and chrome, flanked the slow motorcade. Zack wondered whatever happened to his Kawasaki. He should ride again sometime.

Carrick chuckled. “I don’t envy the Chief of Security. With all these heads of state among the guests, this funeral must be a fucking nightmare. I asked President Grant to minimize the pageantry, but he wouldn’t hear of it. What do I care? After all, it’s his funeral.” Carrick laughed at his own bad taste pun.

The A-list guests sat in grandstands on both sides of the detoured itinerary leading to Oak Hill cemetery. The overflow of carefully selected mourners stood quietly on the sidewalk, held back by security ropes.

Journalists took pictures and sometimes ventured under the ropes to get a better angle, only to be reprimanded by security personnel on foot. The black splendor evoked a punked Fourth of July, where black would have replaced the red, white and blue and sucked the joy out of the crowd.

The ride that normally took ten minutes in regular traffic, would last over two hours. As the cortege progressed slowly, Zack’s thoughts returned to Tia. Why didn’t she leave a return address?

* * * * *

In the quaint historic setting of Oak Hill Cemetery, as the memorial service came to a close, Zack stood next to Carrick. At least, Zack didn’t have to look at him.

Carrick laced his arm around the sobbing First Daughter. “I’ll accompany Tierney and her father to the White House,” he told Zack with an appropriately sad face.

Archer, close enough to hear, shook his head in obvious frustration and motioned to Zack and Dylan. “I’ll give you guys a ride back to New York.”

An hour later, Zack, and his two friends sat comfortably around the coffee table, in the spacious cabin of the private jet that served as a salon. Sharing a bottle of Chivas Regal fifty year old scotch, they drank to the memory of Janine Grant. A cold fish no one really knew, to be sure, but a strikingly elegant woman and a classy First Lady.

The amber rays of the setting sun set the faces aglow through the plane’s unusually large windows, probably another feat of engineering from Haepheon Technologies. Above a sea of white clouds, away from any indiscreet ears, as the altitude enhanced the effects of the scotch, the tongues loosened as the inhibitions faded.

“So what’s your gripe against Carrick?” Zack finally asked of Archer.

“I wish there were only one.” Archer cradled his drink and leaned back against the tan leather seat. “I think he is a very ambitious, very dangerous man.”

“Amen to that,” Dylan chimed in.

Zack wanted to know more and chose to play the Devil’s Advocate. “He’s doing his job, isn’t he?”

“He’s overzealous...” Archer searched for words. “Some would say obsessed with this hybrid hunt.”

Zack shrugged. “That’s nothing new, but you have specific reasons to hate him?”

Archer closed his fist and spit the words. “The son-of-a-bitch traced an old girlfriend of mine, and had her executed.”

The realization that Carrick could be so bold confirmed Zack’s fears. He took a sip of the smooth alcohol before asking, “When did that happen? Why?”

“He labeled her as a hybrid.” Archer twirled the scotch in his glass. “I can swear to God that she never had any dealings with the Anaz-voohri.”

Zack needed to understand Carrick’s motives. “Was she really a hybrid?”

“Unfortunately for her, the DNA test came back inconclusive, so we’ll never know for sure.” Archer sighed as he stared down at his glass. “To think that she was identified in my own lab, no less. I didn’t know it was her. Carrick used a fake name on the sample. When I found out, I tried to warn her but she didn’t answer my call. So I rushed to her place... too late.”

“She was dead?” Zack understood Archer’s grief.

“Not just dead.” Archer glanced up and winced. “She’d been tortured horribly.”

“That really sucks, man.” Dylan downed his drink and poured another. “No wonder you hate the guy’s guts.”

“That’s not all...” Archer hesitated, looking around, as if expecting someone to spy on them at twenty-five thousand feet. “I think he had something to do with Janine Grant’s death, and he is right now consoling the daughter after ordering the mother’s murder. The man is a monster.”

Zack had no problem believing Archer’s story. “And what happened between you and President Grant for him to cast you out? Why does he hate you so much? Weren’t you close friends at one time?”

“Our families were close.” Archer gazed at Zack and Dylan, as if wondering how much to tell them. “When his daughter Tierney was fifteen, she had a big crush on me. I ignored it, so she started flirting with Carrick in hopes to make me jealous. But she was just a kid, a pretty girl, but a kid.”

Zack remembered Carrick coming back from Washington, telling him the Senator’s daughter was flirting with him. “She never really liked him?” Zack took comfort in that knowledge.

“I don’t think so.” Archer’s voice was barely audible over the soft whirr of the jets. He cleared his throat. “A few days later, she hit on me and kissed me smack on the mouth. I was so shocked, I didn’t react fast enough, and her father walked in on us before I could get her off me.” Archer glanced up, checking the effect of his words. “Grant banned me from his house, forbade me to see Tierney, and I can’t blame him. As a father, I would have done the exact same thing.”

“Wow! That’s heavy, man!” Dylan’s black gaze glittered with sunset gold.

Archer rubbed the bridge of his nose. “But seeing Carrick pulling the wool over Tierney’s eyes and planning to marry her for political reasons makes me sick.” He sighed. “To me, she is still a child, and I wish I could protect her from that creep.”

“I hear you.” Since it was the hour of truth, Zack couldn’t think of a better time to ask Dylan. “Did you ever come across hybrids, who had nothing to do with the Anaz-voohri?”

Dylan flashed a devilish grin. “Yep.”

Zack knew it. “Me, too. What do you do in that case?”

“I ignore them, man. They’re innocent!” Dylan gazed into his empty glass. “I can’t believe I’m telling you this.”

“Glad to hear you say it, though.” Zack raised his drink in a toast. “I’ve been doing the same thing all along.”

Dylan chuckled nervously. “Sweet!”

“Wait a minute.” Archer seemed deeply disturbed. “If not all hybrids are guilty of aiding the Anaz-voohri, then the DNA test doesn’t prove anything.”

“I agree.” Zack definitely liked Archer’s reasoning. “Because people are different doesn’t make them evil.”

Archer slammed his glass on the low table. “We have to stop these senseless killings.”

“Good luck explaining that to Carrick.” Zack shook his head. “Something tells me he doesn’t want to hear it. I’m afraid he just doesn’t care.”

Dylan lost his smile. “I don’t think anyone can stop him. As the head of ORION, whatever he says goes.”

“We have to find a way.” Zack feared Tia’s life might be in danger. “How can we make sure he doesn’t abuse his power?”

Archer stared at Zack and Dylan in turn. “I’ve been thinking about this for quite a while, and I have an idea, but you may not like it.”

“Shoot,” Dylan blurted out.

Zack only nodded, steeling himself. Whatever the solution offered, something told him it wouldn’t be easy.

Leaning forward, Archer lowered his voice. “After I landed that huge contract with the Global Government for the Lemnian Armor, my company went public and soared financially. I find myself owning an ungodly amount of money.”

Dylan whistled.

Archer offered an apologetic smile. “Haepheon Technologies is on autopilot and I don’t need to be here as much. I could just retire and spend the rest of my days enjoying my fortune, but something tells me I can do better. Besides, I’m still too young to retire.”

Zack kept his voice low despite the total privacy. “What do you propose?”

“Just think.” Archer leaned back and crossed his legs. “What would it take to keep ORION in check, to exert enough pressure to make them watch their steps?”

“Show up before they do on every hybrid call?” Zack’s mind started to race. “That would require gathering intelligence, spies, a small army with lots of muscle... State of the art weaponry... swat teams... choppers...”

Archer nodded. “Keep going... The latest body armor, a secret base of operations...”

The picture took form in Zack’s mind. “Are you serious? You have a lot to lose by organizing a private militia against the global government.”

“Much better than a militia.” Archer seemed to enjoy sharing his concept. “I’m talking ultra secret organization, highly trained secret agents, possibly even super-soldiers... I’m talking about enrolling sympathetic hybrids, the works.”

“This is huge...” Dylan’s dark eyes lit up. “But I like where this is going.”

“Don’t be so gung ho about it.” Zack chuckled. He did appreciate Dylan’s enthusiasm. “You might regret your words in the morning. This constitutes high treason. We could lose our heads if we are caught, literally.”

Archer reclined his seat further. “Not if we keep one step ahead of ORION at all times.”

“Why not just get rid of Carrick?” Dylan’s words came out slightly slurred.

Archer scoffed. “Can you imagine the kind of investigation we’d have to deal with? If Carrick was murdered or disappeared, ORION wouldn’t give up until they found out who was responsible. We’d all end up dead.

“Forget I said that.” Dylan’s face registered awe, and maybe a hint of fear.

“Would we still be working for ORION?” Zack realized that working against ORION while remaining close to Carrick would require skills and courage.

“Only for a while.” Archer smiled. “Then we could plant other moles inside, or tap their computer network to get information. All we need is the right people to do the job.” Archer stared at his two friends. “What do you think?”

“Money makes men brave.” Zack wondered how he could leave ORION without arousing suspicion. But his conscience showed him the way. Between a schizophrenic killer and a compassionate, intelligent man, he didn’t hesitate. “I’m with you. I can’t stand working for this madman any longer.”

“If Zack is in, then I’m in, too.” Dylan slammed his glass, spilling a little.

“That’s good.” Archer winked. “Otherwise I’d have to kill you both.”

Dylan’s smile vanished.

Just then, the fasten seatbelts sign chimed and blinked.

“We are over La Guardia.” Archer straightened his seat and buckled up. “I know exactly the kind of place we need for our base of operations. If you have time right now, I’d love to show it to you.”

Night had fallen during the short flight and the plane landed smoothly. A white truck brought the pneumatic stairs with clear-view cover and fit them over the open hatch. When Zack stepped out and climbed down the stairs, Archer’s limo waited on the tarmac.

The three friends remained quiet during the ride into the city, and Zack thought about the enormity of what he was about to do. Go against the establishment? Betray Carrick and ORION? No, Carrick himself had betrayed Zack and many others, and Zack was following the only righteous path, even if it meant going underground.

The limo dropped them off at the Haepheon Technologies glass tower, where Archer lived in a penthouse on the rooftop. The labs and offices were closed for the night, but the guard in the lobby recognized Archer and let the three men in.

Once in the elevator, Archer, ignoring the panel, punched a code on his epad and the elevator went down.

“Underground?” Zack noticed the elevator panel mentioned no level below the lobby.

Archer offered an enigmatic smile. “You’ll see.”

The elevator door opened on a blank metal wall. When Archer punched another code on his epad, the steel wall moved aside, exposing a dark cavernous room. One more remote command flooded the underground space with fluorescent light.

Archer stepped out of the elevator. “I call it the bunker. It’s undetectable and entirely shielded by the newest technology.” The voice echoed through the empty space.

“Wow!” Dylan followed hesitantly.

Zack thought this very large space had real possibilities. “Why don’t you use it for the business?”

“Initially it was built as a vault for storing cash and secret archives, but electronic banking and electronic files made it obsolete.” Archer walked further inside. “The lack of windows would be too depressing for the staff. Natural light makes for healthier working conditions.”

Zack’s military training took over as his mind adjusted to the idea. “Who else knows about this place? Are there any other exits?”

“No one knows about it but me and now the two of you. And yes, there are very discreet and secure exits, on some underground back alleys that communicate with abandoned subway tunnels, and other sewage and maintenance tunnels. It’s like Swiss cheese underneath the city.”

“Awesome! What do we do next?” Dylan danced on the smooth concrete floor.

“Let’s go to the penthouse and talk about the specifics.” Archer stepped into the elevator, followed by Zack and Dylan. He pressed keys on his epad, closing the door, then he pressed the top floor button on the elevator pad.

Excited about the possibilities, Zack couldn’t believe things were going that fast. Archer must have been thinking about this for months. Smart man. “We’ll need computers, too.”

“But first, we have to recruit the right people,” Archer said over the whoosh of the super fast lift. “And I can get the best experts money can buy.”

Zack almost choked. “You want to go through an official agency?”

“Not exactly. But the right ad, in the right magazine could bring us the people we want.”

The door opened on a lavish penthouse duplex with Italian marble floors, Greek statues, and double story cathedral windows. Outside on the roof, garden lights enhanced flower beds and shrubbery. Reflections danced on the surface of a swimming pool with a Jaccuzzi at the far end.

Dylan whistled. “Nice pad. Looks like a Greek temple.”

“Thanks.” Archer indicated the burgundy leather couch in the sunken living-room. “Chivas anyone?”

Zack smiled. He’d recovered from his drink on the plane, but the crazy night ahead might require a little push. “Why not?”

Dylan nodded. “Keep them coming.”

“So what magazine should we target?” Zack still wasn’t sure about using a magazine ad.

Dylan sat down. “Lots of guys in the military read Soldier of Fortune.”

Archer brought a bottle of Chivas and three crystal goblets. “That’s one, but there are many similar publications.” He started pouring.

“So what should the ad say?” Zack couldn’t believe he was doing this. “I’m creating an anti-government militia. I pay better than them, come work for me?”

“Maybe something a little more subtle.” Archer set the bottle on the table and took a leather chair facing the couch. “Something that would not alert Carrick’s watchdogs.”

“You mean use a code?” Dylan frowned. “How’d that work?”

“Codes are not reliable and Carrick’s men know them all.” Archer took a sip. “We need unusual soldiers, smart and educated, who can think for themselves, question authority, and read between the lines. I suggest we encrypt the message with Greek Mythology.”

“How many soldiers are familiar with Greek Mythology?” Zack didn’t see the connection.

“My point exactly. If they can decipher the ad, they already passed the test of superior education and astuteness, and we want to talk to them.”

“But many of Carrick’s men read these ads.” Zack had seen such magazines at the cafeteria and in the locker rooms of ORION headquarters.

“How about we write an encrypted poem instead of an ad? Like an ancient riddle.” Archer winked. “Carrick’s watchdogs don’t waste time reading poetry.”

Dylan frowned. “A poem in Soldier of Fortune?”

“Why not?” Archer pulled out his epad and unfolded the larger keyboard. “It could be a very inspiring and patriotic poem!”

Zack sighed, removed his blue jacket and rolled up his sleeves. “We better get cranking.

It’s been a long time since I wrote poetry.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Hero Without a Cause

May you be blessed, O ye who endured in Hades

To become the fiercest in all Aries armies

Ye with faith and courage, and who never despaired

Even under the yoke of the mighty Baldric.

Ye who thirst for justice, tired of infamy,

Seeking a noble cause, find refuge in Mythos.

Quiet triumph awaits in the dark underworld,

Among unsung heroes of the antiquity

For purpose and fortune shall reward the worthy

Who offers at sunset a single bloody rose

Before the tall altar of Vulcan’s western forge,

Welcomed by Apollo, Prometheus and Zeus.

And may death come swiftly to foreign barbarians

Who would dare to trespass on the Elysian Fields

In the dim backroom of a small Beijing restaurant, over egg fu yong and a bowl of green tea, Kin Raidon stared at the poem in his Soldier of Fortune magazine. Not only was the wording poor despite the regular staccato, but it didn’t quite rhyme and made no sense upon careful scrutiny. As he stared at the lines, unusual words popped out. Intrigued, Kin pulled out a pen and circled Hades, the hell of Greek mythology. Kin had known such hell and fortunately escaped from it. Aries being the God of War, his fiercest in today’s world would be Special Forces, or even super-soldiers like Kin, although very few knew of their existence.

Kin’s inbred intuition suspected some kind of riddle. Written by whom? To what purpose? He puzzled over the mighty Baldric. How could the sword belt of ancient warriors be mighty? But the word was capitalized, and he remembered from studying in England, that French astronomers called the Orion belt star system le Baudrier d’Orion, Orion’s Baldric. Kin circled Baldric and wrote ORION beside it. Definitely mighty and oppressing.

This started to make sense and could be some kind of message. Excited, Kin thanked his late parents for an intuitive brain and a classical education. His mind flew away from the confining restaurant, the smells of the kitchen at his back, and the banter of the cooks. Letting his food grow cold, he pored over the clever riddle with renewed interest.

The word Mythos usually described cultural symbolism like in mythology, but it could also mean hidden and mysterious, as in conspiracy or secret plan. Because of its capitalization and the mention of the dark underworld, Kin guessed it might refer to a secret underground organization.

Since the heroes of ancient times were always largely praised, the unsung heroes constituted a contradiction. But it probably served to reinforce the idea of secrecy. The verse also implied there were other such soldiers already in that organization. Fascinating!

The third stanza seemed to explain how and when a worthy soldier might apply, with a single red rose, at sunset. As to where, the verse said before instead of on the altar. And altars were usually low, not tall. Could it mean in front of some tall landmark in the west? America symbolized the modern west. A skyscraper, perhaps?

The hours passed, but Kin didn’t mind. His next contracted victim could wait. Some rotten bastard would get his deserved death a little later, so what? Deciphering the riddle seemed worth the time.

The name Vulcan stood out. It was Roman, not Greek like all the others. Kin couldn’t quite remember the Greek name for Vulcan. He moved to the last verses. The Elysian Fields meant paradise to the ancient Greek, an earthly paradise of green pastures. If that paradise represented an ideal Earth, then the barbarian trespassers could be the Anaz-voohri. It all seemed to fit.

Still. An important piece of the puzzle was missing. Vulcan. As Kin sipped his tea, now cold and bitter, the name came to mind. Hephaistos! Vulcan’s Greek name was Hephaistos, the demigod of Lemnos who forged magic armors.

Kin then remembered a series of articles in the papers several years ago, about the inauguration of the tallest building in Manhattan. Many criticized it for its vulnerability to terrorist attacks. A feat of modern glass and metal architecture.

Doted with a great visual memory, Kin recalled one photograph in particular, illustrating such an article. The logo on the glass tower said Haepheon Technologies. Hephaistos... Haepheon... Vulcan’s forge. Then Kin remembered hearing about Haepheon’s military contract for a secret armor called the Lemnian armor. It made sense.

Something important was happening in New York, and Kin wanted to be part of it. If this Mythos organization planned to oppose ORION, this could be the opportunity Kin had awaited for years. Maybe the time had come to get out of China.

* * * * *

In her private tent, on a temporary American base in the middle of the Afghani desert, Tia relaxed on her cot and wondered what Zack was doing right now, half a world away. She couldn’t believe her bad luck. But maybe that was the just punishment for her mistake, the mistake that had prompted Zack to sacrifice himself to save her.

Seeing him again had rekindled the passion Tia had buried and denied all these years. And she could tell he still felt the same about her. Had he forgiven her? How could this be? But Tia was a hybrid, and Zack a hybrid hunter. For her own survival, she had to stay as far away from him as she could, and get him out of her mind.

Opening her epad, Tia downloaded her favorite Ezine, Today’s Warrior Woman. She re-read the strange poem on the small screen. Big empty words. Although modern soldiers weren’t famous for their literary skills, some writers had no shame, unless... A riddle? Always up for a challenge, Tia studied the lines.

Hours later, she concluded that an obscure double meaning hid behind seemingly pretentious words. She doubted many would suspect it and even less understand it. Few English speaking soldiers had a strong grasp of Greek mythology. Could there really be a secret society recruiting special soldiers disappointed or persecuted by ORION?

Unraveling the confusing verses kept Tia’s mind off her obsession with Zack. It had been a while since she’d tried to solve riddles. If felt good. In the end, Tia believed she’d made some sense of the poem.

It seemed to refer to the Haepheon Technologies tower, and Tia wondered whether Lawson Archer, the owner of the corporation she’d met at the fund raiser, was involved. She quickly dismissed the thought. Archer was a friend of Zack and Carrick. He worked on military contracts and obviously supported ORION. The riddle probably used the tower’s landmark only as a neutral meeting place.

Tia wondered about Apollo, Prometheus and Zeus. Probably code names for agents already inside Mythos. If they fit their Greek profile, Zeus would be the mature, all powerful boss, Prometheus would be a seasoned skeptic with psychic foresight, and Apollo would be very young and pure of heart.

Although she secretly applauded the bravery of these daring Guerrillas for going after ORION’s abuse, Tia didn’t trust civilian militias. They always had more than one agenda and mostly served private interests. Groomed at West Point, Tia believed in the basic tenets of democracy and supported the leaders lawfully elected by their people. Besides, the military was her home, her family, the only place where she really belonged.

As long as she could evade DNA testing, Tia would remain in the military and support the legitimate governments. But if her situation ever changed for the worse and she became hunted, she’d definitely check out this mysterious organization named Mythos.

* * * * *

As Kavak entered the council chamber, she didn’t bother to hide her annoyance at being disrupted. “What’s wrong this time?”

The two hybrids sitting on reclining chairs stood up suddenly. Kavak mentally ordered a Blue Heaven from the automatic bar but didn’t offer any to her pesky guests. “You may sit.”

The tall blond woman showed little emotion, a worthy hybrid. “Exalted Leader, the DNA testing is now extended to everyone in a position of control in the many governments of the planet and in the Global Security Sector.”

Kavak took a sip of the blue liqueur and took the high chair on the platform at the end of the room, far enough that her visitors had to speak loud and listen carefully. These two hybrids would definitely spoil her drinking pleasure, she was sure of it. “What are you saying, exactly?”

The stocky man, with disgusting facial hair above his lips, looked more concerned. “Very soon, all our hybrids in high places will be discovered and killed.”

Sighing, Kavak pivoted her chair to face the transparent hull displaying the dark side of the moon. “How can you be so sure they will be killed?”

“ORION murdered our agent in the White House, Janine Grant, the American First Lady, just because she refused to be tested.” The man nervously wiped his hands on the many breast pockets of his dark green outfit.

“By Kokopelli’s flute!” Kavak downed her glass of Blue Heaven, set it back on the floating tray and paced the round chamber. “This could compromise the fate of our precious Pleiades sisters as the deadline approaches. I knew it was a mistake to accept a non-hybrid adoptive father for Tierney.”

“It complicates things,” the blond woman said calmly. “Tierney is now on her own, unaware of her true nature, with no one to prepare her for her important mission.”

Kavak hissed in frustration. Where did her most carefully laid plans take a wrong turn? She wondered whether the dead Shaman had really set a curse upon her.

“We need help,” the hairy man pleaded. “Other adoptive parents have been killed by ORION as well, like Celene’s mother. Fortunately, her father is also a hybrid and he hasn’t been targeted... yet.”

Kavak remembered Celene’s mother, Marianne, the beautiful woman with green eyes she’d met in a log cabin in Canada. What a waste of a loyal agent!

“We could recruit more hybrids to replenish our ranks, Exalted Leader.” The blond guest remained cool as the frozen oceans of Enceladus. “I understand many have not been called to duty yet.”

“First, we have to stop the killing of hybrids.” Kavak would have to take drastic measures. “We need to keep these pesky humans otherwise occupied. I can’t believe they already forgot our bio-weapon scare of 2009. It’s only been eleven of their years.”

The blonde shook her head in disapproval. “Humans have a short memory, Exalted Leader.”

“If that’s the case, we need a new strategy.” Kavak mentally inventoried her arsenal. “This time, we’ll strike anonymously. But we’ll make sure they do not recover so easily.”

“What do you have in mind, Exalted Leader?” The whiskered man sounded too eager. Why didn’t he control his emotions?

Kavak decided to try a new weapon. “I think this calls for an unprecedented storm.”

“Like Hurricane Katrina?” The blonde raised a thin eyebrow.

“That hurricane only served as a trial run. I’m thinking of ten times the area and ten times the power of that storm.” Kavak enjoyed the shock on the male hybrid’s face. “We need enough destruction to mobilize all planetary forces, military and otherwise. If we keep that ant hill busy for the next few years, they won’t have the leisure to go hunt hybrids or gather their armies against us. Then we’ll trigger our master plan before they get a chance to recover.”

“When and where will you strike, Exalted Leader?” The man sounded pitifully alarmed. “Should we warn our people about this mega-storm?”

Kavak hated cowards. Since when did a hybrid care about others? “You’ll be safe on the American continent, where all our precious sisters are being groomed. Just don’t travel to Europe. I’ll make sure our hybrids there are evacuated before we strike. And not one word to anyone.”

“You can count on our silence, Exalted Leader,” said the blonde, while the man swallowed and nodded.

Kavak smiled as she left the council chamber. She didn’t intend to evacuate or give any warning to her hybrids in Europe. They had been of little help anyway. She couldn’t risk the word getting out before her formidable strike. The vexing humans might find a way to evacuate. If the hybrids’ natural survival skills didn’t keep them alive, then they didn’t deserve to live in the first place.

* * * * *

Zack sat on a stone bench in front of the Haepheon Technologies tower around sunset, as he had done for the past two days, just to see if anyone would show up holding a red rose. On the opposite side of the main entrance, Dylan sat on another bench. Autumn leaves spotted the trees with gold and russet, and bristled on the sidewalk to the whim of the evening breeze. No one had come forth since the release of the poem three days ago. The riddle seemed to have failed. Did anyone understand it? Or even care?

As he watched the sun dip between two skyscrapers, Zack let his mind travel toward Tia. No matter how hard he tried to visualize her, he couldn’t. He’d finally found a mailbox to her name but his messages received no response. Tia had disappeared and didn’t want to be found. That rejection hurt even more now that Zack was whole. She hadn’t rejected his infirmity. It was him she’d rejected. Yet she’d seemed so pleased to discover him alive... Zack just didn’t understand, and it hurt him more than he thought possible.

As the sun plunged behind the lowest roof and Zack thought he’d wasted his time again, he noticed near the bus stop a young oriental man in black slacks and silk shirt, casually holding a tan leather jacket over his shoulder. He hadn’t been there three seconds earlier and seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. His other hand held a single red rose.

Intrigued, Zack studied him carefully and discerned in him the definite characteristics of a trained martial artist. His stance, his balance on the balls of his feet, showed total body control in the casual way he held himself. Like a nonchalant cat ready to pounce at any sign of threat.

Glancing toward Dylan, Zack also noticed another man, stocky, with a moustache, in a dark green hunting outfit, also holding a rose. Zack nodded to Dylan, who stood up and went to speak to the outdoors man.

Zack purposefully walked up to the young oriental and made eye contact. “And may death come swiftly to foreign barbarians.”

The young man looked amused. “Who would dare to trespass on the Elysian Fields.” His accent sounded surprisingly British.

“Chinese?” Zack thought he was too tall and built to be Japanese or Vietnamese.

“Among other things.” The young man strolled quietly by his side, with straight black hair reaching his shoulders. He tossed the rose into a garbage can.

“Let’s walk to the park and meet the others.” Zack glanced at Dylan and the other recruit, who crossed the street and walked in the same direction on the opposite sidewalk.

Zach had difficulties reading the Chinaman’s mind. Was he shielding himself from psychic probing? Interesting. “What makes you think you can do this job? What’s your area of expertise?”

“I kill for a living… Assassin for hire.” Not a muscle moved on his face. “I rarely use weapons. I need none.”

Good thing the traffic noise kept their conversation private. Violent images assailed Zack’s mind in spurts. The man tried to hide his emotions but Zack could still read his strongest thoughts. This was a dangerous assassin to be sure, but a very serious recruit. “How many have you... killed?”

“Too many to count in the past seven years.”

“Seven years?” Zack sensed that he told the truth and shivered at the thought that he must have started killing as a mere teenager. “How much do you know about ORION?”

“More than most.” The young Chinese kept his gaze straight ahead. “I was part of their super-soldier program... against my will... I escaped.”

“Really?” Zack could feel strong anger roiling under the surface. This young man hated ORION and sincerely wanted to help. He had the intelligence and the education to decipher the riddle, and if he was a super-soldier... “Any special abilities, physical or otherwise, that could make you even more valuable to our cause?”

The young man squinted at Zack, his deep brown eyes reduced to mere slits. “You mean jumping off cliffs, leaping over twenty five foot fences, like a super Ninja? That kind of thing?”

“That’s impressive. You can do all that?” But Zack already knew he could.

The young man nodded. “And more...”

Zack understood the stranger’s hesitation to lay down all his cards. He slowed down. “In my opinion, you’ll get the job. You are more than qualified, and I’ll definitely recommend you. But if there is more to your impressive resume, by all means...”

“There is this.” The Chinese stopped and glanced around to make sure no one paid close attention. He suddenly disappeared into thin air, leaving Zack to stare at the deepening shadows of dusk on the busy city street.

Surprised, Zack held his breath. Had this guy just vanished? What if he’d been sent by ORION to get rid of Mythos? How irresponsible of Zack to underestimate the real power of a super-soldier. Still, he didn’t sense any immediate threat.

“Are you still here?” If he watched carefully, Zack could almost make up the outline of a body next to him, but not quite. He extended his hand and touched something solid.

In a slight blur, the man came back to the visible world. He seemed amused. “You don’t scare easily, do you? Interviewing a professional killer who could crush you like a bug? That takes courage.”

Zack shrugged. “I’m not helpless myself. I have hidden talents as well.”

“Such as?” Interest sparked in the brown eyes.

Probing further into the stranger’s mind, Zack realized he could trust him. “Even though you shield your thoughts against psychic scans, I can sense your strongest emotions, and killing me was never your intent.”

“Touché. So you must be Prometheus, the man with second sight.” The young Chinese held out his hand. “My name is Kin, by the way.”

“Prometheus is my code name.” Zack shook the offered hand. “I like your style, Kin. So what’s your story?” He resumed walking.

“My parents were hybrids, killed by ORION. That’s when they took me to the CEM in Beijing. They experimented Recombinant DNA techniques on me. They call it rDNA.”

Zack was familiar with rDNA. An ominous thought crossed his mind. “What’s your last name?”

“Raidon, why?”

“Just curious.” As they reached the side entrance to Central park, Zack struggled to keep calm. “It doesn’t sound Chinese,” he said to cover his uneasiness.

“I had a British grandfather, but the name is actually Japanese. A long story.” Kin’s steps made no sound on the dead leaves strewn on the path.

Zack forced a smile. Thank God, Kin couldn’t read his mind. The Raidons were the first hybrids Zack had identified from the hospital, while trying his new abilities over a map of China. If Kin ever learned that Zack was responsible for his parents’ death, and for his subsequent torment at the hands of ORION, nothing could protect Zack from such an efficient killer. “Here we are.”

Night had fallen and the park lay in deep shadows despite the many light globes. Sitting on a bench away from any glow, Archer read on his epad. When Zack approached with Kin, Archer closed the device and looked up. “What have we here?”

“Kin, meet Zeus.”

Kin took a small bow.

Archer nodded then asked Zack, “What’s your evaluation?”

“He would be a unique asset to Mythos.” Although Zack would have to watch for Kin, in all honesty, he had to recommend him. “He’s a super-soldier who sincerely hates ORION, with high skills and the unusual ability to vanish into thin air.”

“Among Ninjas, it’s called blending with shadows,” Kin corrected politely.

Archer grinned. “Well, Kin, welcome to Mythos. Sit down. Let’s see what Apollo is bringing us.”

Zack and Kin sat on the bench on each side of Archer.

Dylan approached with his recruit. The smile on his face indicated a favorable verdict as well. “I present you with a hybrid defector.”

The stocky man with a moustache bowed. “My name is Schwartz, but I go by Deer Hunter. I haven’t defected yet and would like to remain among the active hybrids to gather intelligence, since I enjoy their trust. I think they’d eliminate me if I tried to defect. I also speak and read the Anaz-voohri language.”

Archer squinted in the scarce light. “What tells me you are not just here to spy on Mythos?”

“Nothing.” The man clenched his jaw. “I’m just not crazy about seeing this planet run by aliens who hate anything resembling a human.” His tone sounded sincere as he searched for words.

Zack knew the man told the truth and obviously so did Dylan, but they let him plead his cause to Archer.

Even in the shadows, despite the cool evening, the man’s face glistened with sweat. “I have studied the Anaz-voohri long enough to realize that they do not intend to keep the promises they made, even to their hybrids.”

“Words are cheap.” Archer seemed to enjoy playing the devil’s advocate. “How do we know that’s really how you feel?”

The man wiped his hands on his pants. “I bring important information as proof of my loyalty.”

“What kind of information?” Archer wouldn’t give him any slack.

“The Anaz-voohri are going to strike, very soon.” The man’s moustache drooped sadly.

“What kind of strike? Where? When?” Archer kept pushing him.

“A natural disaster. You won’t really know it’s them.” The stocky man shook his head. “They want to ruin the economy, deplete the planet’s resources, so they can strike humanity again when we are down and unprepared.”

“Can they do it?” Archer’s tone grew harsher.

“I’m afraid so.” The man sighed. “They have a weapon that enhances storms. Their target is densely populated... It’s Europe.”

“Can we prevent or stop it?” Archer’s voice had lost his aggressive edge.

“I’m afraid not. The damage may already be done. This time, they are going to kill millions.” The man remained very still in the dark and tears rolled down his face.

The others remained very quiet.

Zack’s throat constricted at the thought. Millions of innocents? Dear God! He prayed with all his soul that Tia wasn’t stationed in Europe. “God help us all.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

“Stay in formation, and keep your cloak activated.” Kavak’s private ship led a fleet of seven Anaz-voohri vessels descending stealthily upon Earth toward central Europe. Although her target lay in darkness, she didn’t want the satellites around the planet to see the fleet coming. Kavak intended to keep secret from the human population her ability to enhance the destructive powers of the weather system. The less they knew the more vulnerable.

The fleet settled over the eastern bend of the Carpathian Mountains and formed a circle as wide as the eye of a hurricane. Although cloaked from outside eyes, the vessels remained visible to each other, and Kavak waited for all of them to reach their exact position.

“Get ready.” As she had done before on a smaller scale to increase the strength of tropical storms, Kavak linked her mind to the ship’s brain and activated the weapon “Now!”

A bright crown of pink energy locked the circle of ships, sizzling with spikes of electricity. The intense magnetism would temporarily scramble the human satellites and render them blind to the event. Heated rays emanating from the ships sucked moisture from the Black Sea and the Mediterranean, then the weapon created an artificial vortex, generating cyclonic winds that pulled the heavy clouds north.

The ships fed the gathering storm with added destructive power. Soon, magnetically charged clouds surrounded the fleet, threatening the integrity of the connected vessels.

Kavak’s ship shook and rumbled. She couldn’t afford an accident. “Increase altitude.”

The seven vessels moved higher above the forming storm. From a safer position, they kept feeding the clouds, and the formation grew steadily. The disturbance now covered most of central and eastern Europe. Kavak hoped that when the catastrophic winds and flooding rains touched down, they would inflict severe damage and possibly destroy a few countries in the process.

“Exalted Leader, my ship is shaking under the power surge. Shouldn’t we cease now?” The voice of the youngest captain in her fleet trembled with unseemly apprehension.

Kavak couldn’t stand cowards. “Some shaking is to be expected. Keep the weapon powered until I say otherwise.” Besides, she wanted the insolent population of Earth to remember the great storm of 2020 until the untimely end of their species.

“Exalted Leader, power is failing. My cloak has disengaged, the engines stopped. We are dropping!” The last words reeked of panic.

Through the transparent hull, Kavak saw the maverick ship disconnected from the circle, losing altitude. “Get back to your position immediately.”

“Unable to comply, Exalted Leader...” The connection ended abruptly.

“Close the gap,” Kavak ordered, and the other vessels spaced themselves wider to maintain the link. From above, Kavak witnessed the slow fall of the ship, tossed to and fro inside the storm like a bubble in a boiling test tube. The same fate could threaten the whole fleet. “Disengage the weapon!”

The bright crown of electric bolts linking the vessels fizzled and ceased.

“Increase altitude.” Kavak struggled to keep her voice detached, but anger boiled inside her synthetic circuits.

The fleet complied. From much higher above the storm, Kavak witnessed the inexorable descent of the unfortunate ship. Once again she cursed the lack of personnel that rendered her vessels so unreliable. The ship crashed on the mountain slopes below, in a bright flash of white fire. A low humming started and amplified quickly, hurting Kavak’s sensitive ears. “Infra-sound!” she yelled “Escape maneuver!” Such a destructive wave could tear apart the fleet.

Like one, the six vessels shot out at a tangent toward the stratosphere.

“That’s enough.” Once above the atmosphere, where the dangerous infra-sound wave could not reach, Kavak stopped and adjusted the instruments that would allow her to see what happened on the planet’s surface. She couldn’t identify the unfortunate ship. It had disintegrated upon impact or lay buried deep in the soil. Fire raged all around the crash site, and there could be no survivors, or anything for curious humans to find.

What Kavak witnessed, however, gave her a thrill. The infra-sound generated by the crash was spreading. Like an invisible wave, the devastating breath propagated in an ever expanding radius around the impact point, with a domino effect.

The cataclysmic infra-sound pervaded every stone, every cell of solid matter, destabilizing mortar, reducing bricks to dust, bending metal structures and toppling every building. Planes fell from the sky, major cities collapsed in a thick fog, instantly reduced to a pile of ruins. Then the wave started to weaken, and hundreds of miles from the epicenter, it gradually lost its power and died.

Soon, the windfall swept the dust clouds over the destroyed area, and the downpour drowned the devastation in flood water, reducing the clouds of concrete dust to gray silt. Good. Although the final destruction was much greater than anticipated as a result of the accident, it fully served Kavak’s purpose.

Still, the price of one ship and its precious crew was too much to pay. Damned be the insolent Shaman who dared to curse her mission from the very start, even if he’d already paid with his life.

* * * * *

Checking the latest news in his New York loft, Zack couldn’t believe the devastation. Even blurry images from satellites in high orbit made him gasp. Nothing was left, no roads, no houses, no train tracks. It happened suddenly overnight and no one knew how. Some talked about a storm, others about an earthquake although the instruments had recorded no seismic activity.

The fact that most of the vegetation had survived fed the theory of an infra-sound wave, a vibration so low on the sound scale that the human ear couldn’t detect it. “Like the trumpets of Jericho that sent the walls tumbling down,” said a CNN anchor, a fitting analogy. So, the Anaz-voohri had mastered infra-sound weaponry.

France, Italy and Russia remained largely untouched, but every manmade structure in between had been damaged beyond repair or obliterated. Tens of millions of people must have died, others probably still struggled under the rubble, and those who escaped unscathed had no shelter and would soon perish of exposure or starvation if they were not rescued. It was late October, and the harsh winter came quickly in central and eastern Europe.

Zack felt helpless. He wanted to volunteer with the Red Cross, but he knew his duty resided elsewhere. He had to make sure the Anaz-voohri wouldn’t get away with this despicable contempt for human life and civilization.

And in all this turmoil, his mind kept returning to Tia. Where was she? God he hoped she was safe. Although she’d not answered his previous messages, he sent her one more.

* * * * *

At her temporary US military base in Afghanistan, Tia’s epad beep interrupted her breakfast. Her body flushed as she recognized Zack’s address. She should just delete the message without reading it, but she wanted to know. It was selfish of her to hear from him and not reciprocate, but she couldn’t possibly correspond with a hybrid hunter without jeopardizing her life. Pushing away her plate of unfinished eggs, she opened the file and read, her heart beating faster. Are you safe, my love? Take care, these are dangerous times. Zack.

Dangerous times indeed! If Tia didn’t know better, she’d think he knew her for a hybrid. More reasons not to respond. Deep down, however, she relished the fact that he still loved her. She loved him, too, never stopped loving him, even when she thought him dead. But some things were just not meant to be. She struggled with the urge to reply and ease his mind. No. She finally deleted the message. She’d be safer if he believed her dead.

As she closed her epad, the electronic device beeped again, and the official stamp of military headquarters appeared on the screen. Her orders... Tia’s unit would deploy in a few minutes as part of the first rescue wave to parachute food, water, blankets, tents, and medicine gathered in haste, while more supplies found their way to the base. It was about time. The survivors of the worst disaster in human history needed help, fast.

The first flight over the edge of the devastated zone left Tia numb with shock. So much destruction... The extent of the damage and the sheer size of the area affected made her rescue efforts seem futile. A few survivors here and there walked the rubble like zombies, probably looking for loved ones.

Tia’s throat tightened at the sight of so much despair. She wanted to tell the pilot to land the transport and pick up these unfortunates to bring them back to base, but she had explicit orders. She could only fly over and under no circumstances should she land. The military brass probably feared some kind of contamination. In other words, they suspected an Anaz-voohri attack, but they would never admit it to the troops or the population.

Tia’s faith in the military had weakened in the past years, but this stupid order condemned innocent victims already stricken beyond human tolerance. How unfair. She tried to close her mind to the human drama playing on the ground and focused on the job of dropping the emergency supplies where they seemed needed.

For the next two days, while she flew longer missions further inside the devastated zone, Tia’s anger against the leaders of the spared nations grew. Between drops, she checked the news on her epad. They all looked for excuses not to participate in the rescue effort, saying the cataclysm threatened their own economy, and they couldn’t afford to pitch in. What a bunch of mierda! Had the world forgotten all human compassion?

The United States took the lead in starting the job, but even among the military and civil organizations coordinating the efforts, politics prevailed. Everyone had an agenda.

For some it was glory and recognition, for others media coverage or political propaganda, an opportunity to shine and get promoted or elected. Some even saw a chance to make a quick fortune by selling much needed emergency supplies at outrageous prices.

For others yet it had religious implications. God had made an example of those who had abandoned him, and the populations spared would do well to return to the righteous faith. The problem was, no one agreed upon which faith that might be. Every radical religious group on the planet took credit for holding the key to salvation, at the exclusion of all other faiths, and there were dozens of them.

To make things worse, ORION still pushed to test the DNA of everyone working not only for the Global Security Sector but for any functioning government, and that included the US military. Tia’s unit was next on the list.

To dodge the systematic DNA testing, Tia volunteered to lead one of the advanced teams of rescuers to be parachuted near the larger cities leveled by the cataclysm. Berlin, Warsaw, Budapest, Vienna, Bucharest, Kiev, had been leveled. Tia’s objective was Prague, in the Czech Republic, if such a country still existed.

With a team of eighty that included medics, search and rescue personnel with sniffing dogs, sturdy soldiers to do the hard work, and weapons in case of riots, Tia’s transport reached her assigned zone at daybreak. From the sky, without landmarks for reference, Tia couldn’t believe what she saw. “Are you sure this is Prague?” she asked the pilot through her communicator.

“It’s the coordinates, there can be no doubt, Captain,” came the voice over the roar of the engines.

What had once been the city of a hundred steeples looked like a thick blanket of gray stones and gravel. Strangely enough, most of the surrounding trees still stood. The devastation seemed worse than the aftermaths of World War II, at least according to the photographs Tia had seen at the History Museum.

She hoped the trees would offer some cover. Despite the surrounding desolation, the turning foliage at sunrise gleamed golden and red. But Tia had little time to admire the miracles of nature.

In the absence of usable roads, the most reliable thoroughfare would be the Vltava River that crossed the city from south to north on its way to the Elbe that emptied into the North Sea. Although the largest part of the ruined city lay on the east bank and all the bridges had collapsed, the park on the western shore offered the healthiest location for the camp.

“Let’s drop on the west bank!” When the transport veered about, Tia directed the first dumping of cargo then jumped.

Around her in mid air, more people and crates followed. Red, white and blue chutes opened, filling the sky. The rain must have washed away the dust because the air smelled clean. Cages descended slowly, among the whining of dogs not used to this kind of transportation. Heavy crates, each harnessed to several parachutes to slow their fall, contained the equipment the team would need for the task.

Medical supplies, emergency food packs, blankets, generators, batteries, crates of shovels and axes, danced around in a graceful ballet that contrasted with the desolation below. Private corporations had stamped their boxes with very large logos. It made for good PR on the ten o’clock news, when the goods were loaded on the military transports. Tia would accept any help she could get, even for the wrong reasons.

Having secured enough tents, civilian and military, to shelter a small city, she hoped there would be enough survivors to fill them. The surveys estimated that at least ninety-five percent of the population, sleeping indoors when the disaster struck, had perished under collapsed buildings.

Upon touching ground, Tia quickly un-strapped her chute to discover that some crates had spilled their contents. Food! “We can’t afford to lose any food. Salvage whatever you can from these open containers! Don’t let the wrappings get wet.”

“Look!” A soldier pointed to the top of a tree where a load marked with a red cross still swung from its chute, caught in the highest branches.

“Get that crate down immediately, soldier,” Tia shouted. “Medical gets first priority.”

As she took her bearings, Tia observed with dread precious parachuting crates, being pushed away by gusts of wind toward the stormy river. Helpless and frustrated, she watched them hit the water then sink into the Vltava. Ironically, by the looks of it, one seemed to be an inflatable Zodiac. Tia could hardly spare it as they only had two. But she’d have to cope.

As the last rescue crews extricated themselves from their chutes, Tia pointed to the cages. “Free these dogs and calm them down, then start searching the closest ruins for survivors.”

Tia directed other soldiers to erect the tents in the park. “Pitch them high enough on the slope, where the ground isn’t soggy, but low enough so the hill will shelter them from the wind. Our first priority is the hospital, then the kitchen and the dorms. The rest will follow later.”

As she gazed across the swollen river of gray waters, Tia spotted a dozen survivors on the opposite bank. They waved pieces of clothing to catch the rescuers’ attention. Tia flagged the corner of a parachute to let them know they had been spotted. Between them, the river carried drifting debris and corpses.

At the water’s edge on Tia’s side, she noticed wooden rowboats painted in bright red, blue and yellow, still secured vertically to their winter board under a wooden shelter. Some had come loose and lay beached on the grass. As she approached the shack, Tia noticed a large wooden box. She marveled at the selective destruction that had preserved most of the wooden structures.

She motioned to the closest soldier. “Pry the coffer open.”

The young man produced a metal bar from his belt and forced open the lock.

When it popped, Tia discovered with satisfaction dozens of oars inside. “As soon as the water slows a little, we’ll also use the recreation boats to ferry the survivors across. I fear our single Zodiac won’t be enough.”

Tia didn’t expect help from the outside world anytime soon. The briefing had been clear. Once dropped inside the affected zone, the rescuers would have to fend for themselves along with the survivors. With the roads erased, blocked, or washed away, no relief would come by land. At first, there could only be air assistance, and given the size of the disaster area, the drops would be few and far apart. The best hope remained the river.

Even before the soldiers finished erecting the tents, survivors, who had seen the parachutes fill the sky at dawn, converged toward the relief camp and started streaming in, bewildered. Few looked unharmed. Most had ugly gashes. Others exhibited makeshift bandages soaked with dark blood. The valid carried wounded children or supported adults who could hardly walk. Soon the Zodiac team crossed the river and ferried in more survivors, bringing the sick and severely injured on stretchers.

“Light fires in the middle of the camp, and keep river water boiling at all times for tea and soup.” Tia didn’t mention the floating cadavers and hoped boiling the water would suffice. The river would cleanse itself in time. “Save the purifying pills and bottled water for medical emergencies, and conserve the propane to warm up canned food.” In drastic situations, primitive methods proved more reliable in the long run than high tech gadgets.

Tia felt proud of her efficient team. A few soldiers went to the river’s edge and filtered water through fine cloth to fill large aluminum kettles. Then they hung the kettles from tripods and lit wood fires underneath.

Two teams started digging pits for the garbage and the latrines. Others installed rudimentary showers with cold water pumped from the river by hand. The sound of the chainsaw, dicing fallen trees for firewood and planks, soon filled the air.

Medics tended to the wounded in the open while other medics finished installing the equipment inside the hospital tent. Most of the refugees shivered from the morning chill, and looked hungry, their lips parched with thirst. They didn’t speak the language of their rescuers, but a smile, a steaming bowl of instant chicken soup, and a blanket, would go a long way to establish trust.

* * * * *

One morning, after two weeks of exhausting work and very little sleep, Tia woke up to a commotion. Slipping on boots and parka in a hurry, she ventured out in the biting cold. Like a peaceful shroud, the first thin snow covered the camp and the ruined city across the river. “What happened?” she asked the first man she saw.

The soldier blew on his hands in a white plume of breath. “A man wandered out in the cold last night.” He scanned the neighboring hills. “The snow covered the tracks. We don’t know which direction he took. We’ll probably never see him again.”

It was the third disappearance in two weeks. “Send the dog teams to search for him. If we’re lucky he’s still alive,” Tia said with more conviction than she felt.

The soldier saluted and left in the direction of the K9 tents.

Last time a civilian had wandered out at night, the rescuers had found him drowned, in a tangle of debris, a few miles down the river. Tia had told everyone at the time that it must have been an accident due to disorientation in the dark, but she knew better. The psychological damage ran deeper than the physical wounds. A few poor souls lost their minds, others lost the will to live after the death of their loved ones. The team psychiatrist had warned her about such suicidal attempts.

Tia had to keep up the morale of team members and survivors. Spotting a soldier coming out of his tent, she stopped him. “Gather every able body outside, on the double.” It was time to give these people a purpose.

When men, women and children, wrapped in their blankets, stood shivering in the middle of the camp, Tia stepped onto a crate and said in a loud voice, “We have to organize for an early winter.” She nodded to the interpreter next to her and gave him time to translate before she spoke again.

“Our supplies are limited, and we do not know when we’ll receive more... Today, we’ll organize forays into the city to dig out canned food, warm winter clothes and whatever gear and equipment we can salvage. I need brave volunteers who knew the city well and can guide the soldiers to the most promising areas.”

The survivors looked at each other with gloomy faces. For them, the ruins would be more difficult to confront than for the soldiers. Over one million bodies remained entombed under the rubble, friends, neighbors, brothers, parents, sons and daughters. Nevertheless, a dozen volunteers gathered to the side.

“Each of you will be given a responsibility.” Tia hoped it would keep their mind from wandering into despair. “I’m sure there are hunters among you. I’m told there is boar and fat bears in these hills, as well as rabbits and a few winter birds.”

After translation, the call received a few enthusiastic responses, and the hunters formed another separate group of about fifty.

“Who has good legs and doesn’t fear farm animals?”

After a few jostling smiles and jokes, more hands came up.”

“Stray cows and chickens, as well as sheep and goats have been spotted, wandering around these hills. We sure could use milk, eggs, and fresh meat.”

The would-be-farmers gathered in a separate team.

“Any fishermen among you? There must be fish in that river as well.” Tia neglected to mention the fish must be fat from eating cadavers. It didn’t matter.

The fishermen formed yet another group.

“Who wants to cook?”

Many women stepped forward, chatting suddenly as Tia had never seen them do, a good sign.

“The children and the elderly can gather wood and pile it up for the fires. The soldiers will help dice up the fallen trees. How many of you understand English?”

There were enough translators to allocate several per team.

“We’ll probably have to hold on until spring. By then, some of the fields planted in the fall might still produce, and we’ll receive more supplies. In time, the land will start healing itself.”

Tia’s words seemed to have a positive effect. Animation returned to the listless faces.

The first forays into the devastated city proved very successful, except for the grain contaminated by rats. After a few days, once the refugees had their quota of food, clothes, fishing and hunting supplies, Tia banned the city proper that crawled with rats and stunk of decomposition and disease. She congratulated herself for setting camp on the green river bank.

Every able body pitched in. Between the river fish, the wild game, and the farm animals, now sheltered in rough wooden shacks, the diet and the morale improved somewhat.

Some of the refugees seemed to withstand the hardship much better than others, and Tia sometimes wondered whether they could be hybrids. But she never mentioned the topic. The survival of the community depended on the abilities of strong people like herself, hybrid or human. And the last thing she needed was a hybrid hunt in her camp.

About once a week, Tia received a message from Zack, but she couldn’t get herself to open it. It was too painful to know that this wonderful man still cared for her as much as she cared for him. She hated life’s cruel fate that forced her to choose survival over doomed happiness. Deep inside, she knew she would never love another man. Not that any lined up to court her. Tia’s strong and independent attitude kept them at bay.

At Christmas time, Tia suggested bonfires and the cooks roasted bear and boar on a spit. The survivors filled the night with carols. Although they sang in different languages, the tunes sounded the same. They even celebrated one miracle in that terrible mess. A pregnant mother gave birth to a daughter, a perfect baby, a beautiful flower, a ray of hope in this ocean of desolation.

Two more months passed with no relief in sight. Tia was glad she’d rationed the supplies and made her group more self-reliant. At night, she followed the news on her epad. Her repeated requests for much needed supplies elicited frustrating answers asking her to wait. The governments of the world talked about the future and the reconstruction, but no one seemed to care about the immediate needs of the victims. And no country volunteered to take in refugees, saying they should remain to rebuild and repopulate their stricken nations.

Tia didn’t trust the military or the elected governments to do the right thing anymore. She didn’t long for the comfort of a military base either. Her tour of duty had already ended, and she didn’t intend to reenlist. She would keep the refugees alive until spring. Then, when the rebuilding started, she would simply disappear, like a Guerrilla in the jungle.

Eventually, the snow that blanketed the destruction thawed, uncovering thousands of decomposing cadavers. The putrefaction threatened to foul the air, but easterly winds blew the stink and the contamination away from the camp, at least most of the time.

In early April, the refugees cheered when the reconstruction crews and new relief teams finally reached Prague by water and by air. They erected a temporary bridge, then the cleaning brigades in white bio-suits started to bulldoze the debris and sanitize the area to make room for the future city. Civilian international organizations would take it from there and build permanent housing for the survivors over the warm months.

Glad to surrender her charges to the new relief crews, Tia said her goodbyes. She hugged many, waved to the others, kissed the children. She hid her tears as she hopped on the jeep. She would never forget the faces of these courageous people, who had lost everything and everyone dear.

That morning, Tia took the first transport back to the United States.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Spring had come early in New York. Tia had swapped her uniform for white jeans, a peach sweater and a white denim jacket. Free from the military for the first time since she entered West Point at eighteen, she now took the most daring step of her entire life. Her long dark hair flowing behind her, she held a single red rose as she walked resolutely toward the Haepheon Technologies building in Manhattan, just before sunset.

Six months after the release of the riddle, Tia didn’t expect a secret freedom fighter to greet her. If no one showed up, she might have to search for clues. Mythos would no doubt have left some pointers for latecomers to find. She took a deep breath as she reached the tower. Quitting the US military to join an underground militia constituted a huge step, a point of no return.

As nonchalantly as she could manage under the circumstances, Tia sat on a stone bench in front of the tower. To the casual observer, she waited for some employee at quitting time. Out of the glass building, men and women streamed in a steady flow.

Tia’s blood raced like when she’d ventured alone as a child into the Venezuelan jungle. To look less conspicuous, she pulled out her epad and dialed the evening news. On the small screen, most images told of the reconstruction effort in central Europe, but nothing specific about Prague. A familiar voice behind her made her jump.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were waiting for me, and that would make me a very happy man.”

Her heart wobbled for a beat or two. Closing her epad, Tia turned to stare into Zack’s clear aqua eyes. He’d lost his tan but his gaze had gained a new intensity. Despite the slight sarcasm in his voice, he looked pleased and smiled at her, so poised, so sure of himself, more sensual and attractive than in her recollection. Stunned by this unexpected encounter, she realized how much she’d ached for his touch.

Tia forced a smile but couldn’t find her words. Was this a trap? Had ORION released the riddle to lure hybrids and their supporters into the open? Tia should have seen this coming, but for some strange reason, fascinated by Zack’s very presence, she held on to her hopes. He came around the bench to sit next to her, strikingly handsome in civilian black, leather jacket, open collar shirt and slacks.

She willed her mind to slow down. “What are you doing here?” Although something seemed amiss, she couldn’t help but keep her faith in Zack. She remembered a wonderful man and wanted to believe he still was, despite his allegiance to ORION. Although his duty as a hybrid hunter was to kill her, if he still had feelings for her, she might persuade him to spare her life. She struggled to keep her guard up, reminding herself he was the enemy.

“I assume you came with a red rose to answer a specific call.” The musky fragrance of his aftershave blurred her defenses.

Panic threatened to take away Tia’s voice. She swallowed a lump then said as calmly as she could, “I have no idea what you are talking about. I happen to love red roses. It’s my Hispanic heritage.”

“You have many exceptional abilities, Tia Vargas, but you make a lousy liar. I can tell when people lie.” Zack’s gaze softened on her. “I thought we still had something special when we met last summer at the fund raiser.”

“So did I.” Tia remembered her overflowing joy at discovering he was alive and whole, despite news of his death. She, too, had believed in happiness then... until she discovered he worked for ORION, her mortal enemy.

Zack smiled sadly. “I spent months wondering why you ignored my messages. Then one night, suddenly it all became clear. I think I figured it out. It all fits.”

“Really?” God, she hoped he didn’t discover she was a hybrid, because if he did, Tia was lost. Should she run while she still could?

“I can read the alarm in your mind, Tia, but fear not. Your darkest secret is safe with me.” The emphasis on the words confirmed her worst fears, as no one would dare say hybrid in a public place.

Tia’s blood ran icy in her veins. Her nervous laugh came unbidden. “I have no secrets. I’m just here to meet someone.” Zack must have taken her advice on re-learning to read minds with other subjects than his abducted sister. If true, this would spell disaster for Tia.

His piercing gaze scrutinized the depths of her soul. “I know, Tia. I know everything.” Was he hypnotizing his prey before the kill?

Drowning in doom, Tia had no doubt that Zack knew exactly what she was and why she had come. As she tried to bolt, his hand clamped her arm. She could probably struggle and even escape, but the contact of his hand heated her skin through the jacket, and his gaze mesmerized her like that of a leopard. His face came closer. Was he going to kiss her?

“Don’t be scared, Tia, not now. I have dreamed of this moment so many times. Haven’t you?” His sweet breath now brushed her lips.

How was this possible? Zack, the Hybrid Hunter, knew she was a hybrid and still wanted to kiss her? Overwhelmed, Tia felt her own repressed passion well up to respond in kind. Her lips opened to his kiss. When he braced her against his chest, Tia clung desperately to his strong shoulders through the soft leather of his jacket. Her mind whirled with drunken lust. She couldn’t get enough of his mouth, of the contact of his muscled torso against her breasts, and she wanted more.

When they reluctantly disengaged, she flipped back a rebellious strand of hair to hide her bewilderment. “Your boss would not approve of such a public display.”

Zack still held her arm as if he would never let go. “I don’t work for Carrick anymore.”

“You don’t?” Tia didn’t dare believe him. “I didn’t know anyone could ever leave ORION, except in a wooden box or at the bottom of a river, like with the CIA or the Mafia.”

As Zack shook his head, the setting sun caught golden strands in his thick chestnut hair. “It’s not quite that bad, but it took some maneuvering. I couldn’t stand the growing insanity in ORION, so I just moved to a private branch of the Department of Defense.” He nodded toward the tower. “I work here, now.”

“Here?” Tia couldn’t believe such a coincidence. So, he was just getting off work?

“You remember Lawson Archer? You met him at the fund raiser.”

“Sure. Lanky, shy, not bad looking.” Every detail of that fated evening was permanently burned into Tia’s memory.

“He offered me a job in his company.” Zack gave her that frank look she’d learned to trust long ago.

Tempted to relax, Tia could not afford to let her guard down. Zack might have changed in all these years. God knew she had. “What kind of job?”

He seemed to enjoy their conversation but still hung on to her arm. “Officially, or unofficially?”

“Both.” Tia could probably escape if she really tried, so she didn’t struggle.

“Straight to the point, that’s what I’ve always liked about you.” Zack sighed as if what he had to say could cost him. “Officially, I work for an international defense project inside Haepheon Technologies, the development of new anti Anaz-voohri weapons and body armor.”

“Really?” Tia couldn’t imagine Zack working at a desk job day after day. “And unofficially?”

“Well, I know because I read your mind that I can trust you, so here goes.” He gazed into her eyes. “My code name is Prometheus, and you just passed your first test, Tia.” He lowered his voice. “I work for Mythos.”

“Mythos?” She kept her voice low. “You?” Was this a trick? Were ORION’s agents waiting to pounce on her?

He nodded mysteriously. She could tell he enjoyed the situation.

Her whole being wanted to trust him, but Tia’s mind reeled with warnings. The compassion and the desire evident on Zack’s face, however, melted her barriers. How she yearned to find safety in his arms. “I find it difficult to trust anyone lately.”

“You don’t have to trust me. Just come inside, and I’ll show you.” Never letting go of her arm, he stood up, bringing her to her feet in the process. “We have much to discuss, and there are a few people I would like you to meet.”

The glass tower loomed in the declining light, reflecting the orange sunset. Only a few stragglers trickled out the main entrance. Still uneasy about Zack’s hold on her arm, Tia decided to give him a chance and accompanied him inside. Certainly ORION had no jurisdiction in a private corporate building.

At the security desk, the guard nodded to Zack. “Working late again tonight, Mr. Duncan?”

Zack winked. “Keeping the planet safe is a thankless job, Ned.”

“How about the young lady?” Ned gave Tia an appreciative look.

“She’s with me. I’ll vouch for her.” Zack let go of her arm almost reluctantly but remained close.

“I see...” Ned smiled at Tia. “Any electronic recording devices, Miss?”

Tia scanned the lobby but didn’t see any soldiers. Reassured, she fished her epad out of her jacket pocket and gave it to the guard.

Ned stored it in a small locker then handed her a plastic badge. “The magnetic badge serves as a key to the locker as well, for when you get out.”

She nodded. “Thanks.”

After Tia went through the metal detector, followed by Zack, the guard returned to his bank of monitors.

Zack led Tia to the elevator. He slid his security badge in the slot, but instead of pushing buttons on the elevator panel, he used a small remote and they went down.

“Down?” The elevator pad indicated no floor below the lobby.

Zack winked. “In our line of work, we like privacy.” When the door opened on a brightly lit facility, he smiled. “Welcome to Mythos.”

Surprised, Tia took in the work stations of cutting edge design, with sophisticated equipment, and the flat monitors high around the walls. The place reminded her of a NASA Mission Control Room design.

Several men rose and applauded. A tall Chinese man in black observed quietly. A very young man in jeans, with pale skin and dark hair, and a stocky man with a moustache smiled at her.

Tia recognized Lawson Archer as he stepped forward and shook her hand. “Down here, I go by Zeus, and this is our bunker. These are a few of our men. Others are out in the field. I must say you are the first female in this group, but we heard of your prowess as a soldier and we are looking forward to working with you. Welcome aboard, Tia Vargas.”

“You remember my name?” Then Tia realized one of the monitors on the wall focused on a bench outside, on which lay a forgotten red rose. The very bench she and Zack had just vacated. “You watched us from here?”

Zack cleared his throat. “Sorry about that, but they had to make sure. As soon as I saw you on the surveillance screen, I insisted on doing the interview myself. Not only they watched, but they listened to every word.”

“You have no shame, Zack Duncan, kissing me on camera.” But deep down, Tia wondered. Did he kiss her to impress his friends? Or should she feel flattered that the usually reserved Zack had displayed his feelings for her?

Archer motioned everyone toward an oval conference table surrounded by chairs. “What’s your sphere of expertise, Tia?” He sat down and indicated for the others to do the same. He looked quite the business mogul, not irritated and awkward like at the fund raiser.

Tia took a chair and Zack sat next to her.

“It’s been a while since I applied for a job.” Tia chuckled nervously. “Let’s see... I’m good at tactical, I speak Spanish, I know the jungle, I can organize a camp, drill new recruits...”

“Boy, can she ever!” Zack erupted into soft laughter.

Archer raised a surprised brow at the mild outburst then focused on Tia. “I also have to give you an official title for payroll, something that won’t look suspicious or inconsistent to the IRS or the FBI, a position that will allow you to travel extensively with an expense account.”

“Field Weapons Testing?” Zack leaned back into his chair, like a jungle cat digesting a lamb. “She’s even tested torpedoes in space.”

“Perfect!” Archer flashed a wide smile. “Field Weapons Specialist it is. You start tomorrow.”

Tia couldn’t believe these men would so readily welcome her in their midst. “If you listened to every word, you know I’m probably a hybrid, right?”

The stocky man with the moustache offered a friendly smile. “I’m a hybrid myself. It must have been difficult to avoid DNA testing as an officer in the military.”

“I had a few close calls, but I managed.” Tia considered herself lucky that her tour of duty expired just in time. She couldn’t have dodged the next test.

Zack squeezed her hand under the table. “Mythos does not discriminate. It doesn’t matter to us what you are, as long as you embrace our cause. You don’t even have to take the test.”

This acceptance of her hybrid nature melted Tia’s last reservations, but she would not shrink from the truth. She’d made too many mistakes by assuming too much. She wanted to know for sure, and there was only one way. “Actually, I’d like to be tested.”

“As you wish.” Archer waved, encompassing the men around the table. “In the meantime, meet the gang. You already know Prometheus, of course. Then there is Apollo, Icarus, Deer Hunter...”

* * * * *

Two hours later, over dinner at Bacchanals, a friendly but discreet Greek restaurant on the other side of Central Park, Zack and Tia filled in the blanks of each other’s lives. Tia couldn’t believe that Zack never stopped loving her, even in the midst of the most terrible trials any human being could ever endure.

Sobs strangled her throat and tears rolled down her cheeks when he confided in sober terms the misery of his formerly disabled state and the horrible death of his sister. How could she have been so blind? She’d let her guilt and her fears get in the way of finding out the truth. She’d behaved like a coward.

Tia appreciated the good fortune that gave her a second chance at happiness. But she also realized that Zack wasn’t the young rebellious soldier who made her blood rush, so many years ago. He had grown into a circumspect and logical man, still passionate and dedicated to his ideals. What he’d lost in spontaneity he’d gained in mystery and depth. Tia very much wanted to get to know him again.

After dinner they hailed a cab and went to his Manhattan loft. Zack called the elevator from the street by punching a code in his epad. While going up the large freight elevator that clunked as it rose slowly, he drew her close and drank from her lips.

Altogether strange and familiar, the embrace thrilled Tia, but she didn’t really know who this man was anymore. She would have to learn everything about him again, and the prospect of what she might discover made her giddy. Would she still love him beyond the lust that blinded her right now?

As the elevator door slid open, Zack picked her up and carried her over the threshold. “Welcome to my secret lair.”

The wide open space with high ceilings had no separating wall whatsoever. All steel, glass, mirrors and black leather, everything looked neat and clean. A shiny motorcycle sat to the side, all chrome.

“You still ride?” The slick machine evoked memories of their carefree time in the Florida Keys, although it looked much more sophisticated than the Kawasaki, with an overhead protective shell.

“This does better than just ride.” Zack let her down gently. “It’s a prototype than can hover twenty feet over the ground.”

“You mean it can fly?” Tia had heard of such a machine but she’d never seen one.

“It’s exhilarating. You’ll see...”

The kitchen at one end had an island and a breakfast nook. It flowed into the living room, then into a bedroom. Mirrored cabinets and closets lined the windowless walls, making the space look much wider. A recess probably housed the bathroom. At each end, floor to ceiling windows brought in the lights and the sounds of the city. “I love this place.” She shed her white denim jacket and dropped it on the black couch.

“You are the first to see it. Even my closest friends have never been up here.” He took her jacket and hung it with his own on a hat peg.

“Why is that?” The bedroom seemed to open on a small patio, with a tiny flower garden. On the black comforter, a white cat unfurled and stretched then rose and jumped down to the hardwood floor to greet them. The cat rubbed against Tia’s leg and purred. “Did you just move in?”

“Hardly. I guess I was saving it for someone special.”

Crouching, Tia petted the cat but couldn’t get her eyes off Zack. “What about your lady friends?” She couldn’t believe that in all these years he hadn’t had another relationship. She sat on the couch and the cat leapt onto her lap.

Zack chuckled. “Nothing worth mentioning. Cleopatra, here, is the extent of my female companionship. Women weren’t an option when I was confined to the chair, and since I’ve recovered... well, I’ve been too engrossed in my work to even think about girlfriends.”

“I know the feeling.” Tia hadn’t tried to get involved with anyone else, either. She’d used her job as a pretext to avoid getting close to anyone. She petted Cleopatra, who purred loudly. The cat had aqua blue eyes like Zack. “I feel privileged to be invited.”

“Well, for what I have in mind, a public place would hardly do.” Zack winked. “Would you like a drink?”

“Definitely.” Tia shot him a coy glance. “But you know what alcohol does to me.” She remembered with fondness their first kiss on a dare, before their Shuttle flight.

“I’ve seen the effect first hand, and I’m counting on it.” Zack went to a side bar and slid two stem glasses off the upside-down rack. Then he pulled a bottle of champagne out of a refrigerated cabinet. “I was keeping it for a special occasion, and this definitely qualifies.” He popped the cork and filled the glasses without spilling any bubbly.

“Yes. This calls for a celebration.” Tia needed to relax, lower her defenses. She’d waited so long for this, yet she wasn’t sure she could trust anyone anymore, even Zack. But she must if she ever wanted to find happiness. She’d lost all innocence when she discovered her hybrid nature. Could she learn to trust and love again?

Zack handed her a glass and sat beside her on the couch. “To our reunion.”

Tia toasted with him and drank a long sip, enjoying the cool bubbles, wishing them to wash away her apprehension. “Tonight I want to forget the whole world outside.”

“I know just the thing.” Zack’s warm hand ignited her thigh through the white denim.

Heat suffused Tia, from her core to her extremities, flushing away all doubts. “Remind me how this works.”

He took the glass from her and set the drinks on the coffee table.

Unsettled, the cat leapt to a safer place on the backrest of the couch.

“First,” Zack said in a deep voice she’d never heard, “there are too many pieces of clothing between us.”

Leaning back, Tia let him kiss her throat as he tugged at her sweater, unveiling her lacy peach bra. She lifted her arms to let him pull it over her head.

Zack nibbled on her ear. “I’ve pictured this moment many times in my mind over the past years, but this is so much better.”

“We were so young the last time we did this.” She slipped her hand inside the black shirt and caressed his smooth chest while popping the buttons one by one. “We didn’t appreciate what we had.”

Zack’s breath shortened. “There is still time.” The words came ragged with yearning as his shirt fell away.

Tia’s body tensed with anticipation as he undid her zipper and slipped off her jeans, leaving on her peach panties. “I believe we can make up for lost time.” She felt his powerful erection pressing against her hip through the fabric of his pants, stronger than she remembered…

When he lifted her and carried her toward the bed, she buried her face into his bare chest, like a tame kitten, reveling in the musky fragrance of his aftershave. For the first time in her life, she felt safe, close, and accepted for what she truly was. Only Zack in the vast universe fully understood her.

Tia hadn’t had enough champagne to blame the alcohol for her shameless behavior. Forgetting all restraints, she wanted to give Zack the best night of his life.

As soon as he dropped her on the bed, she pulled him down and devoured his mouth breathlessly. Now that he’d unleashed her passion, Tia couldn’t wait anymore. She needed his contact, skin to skin. She fumbled with his belt buckle.

“Slow down, my love,” he whispered in her ear. “We are together for good, now. There is no need to rush.”

The words made Tia’s mind reel. Her chest filled with overflowing adoration. “I love you so much,” she breathed against his cheek.

Without realizing how, Tia had lost her last bit of lace. His clothes, too, had vanished. Nude in his arms, she let her hands roam his body. She’d expected raised scars on his back but found only smooth skin. “You look so... perfect.”

Zack smiled mysteriously. “I have my secrets, too. We are more alike than you know.”

“What secrets?” Tia couldn’t believe the extent of his recovery. He looked so fit and smooth, hairless, even better than during their soldiering years together... much better.

“There’ll be plenty of time to explain.” He cupped her breasts and teased her nipples with his teeth, depriving her of any wish to speak.

Did she deserve such rewards? It didn’t matter. All that mattered was that Zack would finally find happiness. He deserved it.

Soon, the fire in her lower belly called for immediate action, but he let it burn to a paroxysm, holding her down while his insistent caresses brought moans of desire from the deepest recesses of her being. How she wanted him, and how she loved the way he made her wait. If that was punishment, she wanted more.

Although it drove her mad, she admired his restraint. The younger Zack hadn’t shown such patience. “I want you now, hombre,” she whispered in his ear.

The subtle change in his breathing told her that passion had taken him over. He gripped her hips as she opened herself to accommodate him. The first thrust made her cry out with intense release as she tightened around his swollen manhood, but he didn’t remain still.

He kept driving into her with surprising force, and she knew he’d lost control. She reveled in the wild abandon of their lovemaking, matching him thrust for thrust, strength for strength, in a frenzy to climax first.

Rapture washed over Tia in a warm wave, as Zack kept ravaging her in a delirious furor, making her groan in a cavernous voice she never knew she had. She didn’t want it to end, but she didn’t know how much more she could take.

When he slowed and exploded inside her, Tia cried tears of ecstasy. She held on to him, kissing his brow as he shook and groaned with pleasure. She never wanted to let him go and wished she could keep him inside her forever.

They remained immobile a long time, content to just lay there, entwined.

No matter what dangers the future held, Tia would not have to face them alone. She finally belonged, with Zack, with Mythos. She’d found her niche in this dislocated world and looked forward to tackling ORION and the Anaz-voohri with this wonderful man she loved.

“What happens tomorrow?” she asked after they disengaged.

Zack kissed her eyelid. “I’m glad to know that you can breathe heavy sometimes, although I didn’t see you sweat.”

“Only horses sweat,” she teased. “I don’t.” She tried to sound serious with little success. “Are you avoiding my question?”

“About tomorrow?” He sat up in bed, snatched the cat, and deposited the white furry ball between her naked breasts. “Let’s see... You’ll swear allegiance to Mythos. Then we’ll probably get a field assignment, you and me as a team. I already requested you as my partner.”

“Together?” Tia stopped playing with Cleopatra. “I’d like that very much. Just like the old days.”

“Better than the old days.” He teased Cleopatra’s paws on her chest. “Now we know what we have, and there is no military rule to worry about.”

Tia caressed his hands and looked into his loving eyes. “You make me so happy.”

Zack filled her ear with butterfly kisses that made her hips rise with renewed desire. “This night has just started,” he whispered, “and it is all ours, my love, all ours.”

Somewhere in space, the Anaz-voohri threatened humankind, a madman led ORION, and the planet was in chaos, but all Tia could think of right now was Zack, and the gentle tug of his fingers in her hair that brought her face closer for his kiss.

THE END

Read the complete Operation: Pleiades series

From Triskelion Publishing

ANAZ-VOOHRI - by Vijaya Schartz - the story of Zack and Tia

FULL CONTACT - by Toby Heathcotte - the story of Dylan and Maya.

RELICS - by Vijaya Schartz - the story of Kin and Celene

DESPERATE MEASURES - by Ester Mitchell - the story of Astoria and Marcos

FIRE STORM - by Colette Denee - The story of Ally and Kent

BLAST WAVE - by Stephanie Burke - the story of Electra and Odin

CONTAGION - by Ester Mitchell - the story of Tierney and Lawson Archer

SIEGE - by Vijaya Schartz - the story of Maeve and Bennett

Other Triskelion novels by Vijaya Schartz

LOCKDOWN - The Garrison

WHITE TIGER

RELICS - Operation Pleiades

Coming soon from Triskelion by Vijaya Schartz

This Magic Moment, anthology Nov. 2006 in e-book and print, contains a story from Vijaya, titled Coyote Gorgeous

SIEGE – 2007 – the last book of the Pleiades Series