Fireteam Delta by J. Halpin (popular novels .TXT) 📗

lot of good will, since you’re so eager to make a deal before the army gets here and all.” Cortez smiled back.

“Apologies, we’ve explained ourselves poorly. We’re aware that you and yours are not native to this place. When we said ‘your world,’ we meant yours. In every sense of the word. We hadn’t even touched this place until you showed it to us. And we have to say, those are odds we still haven’t wrapped our heads around. Life in this galaxy is rare. Far, far more than you can imagine.”

Everyone froze as the thin man’s smile only widened.

“Good, let us get to the point. We want your bodies. That is, unfortunately, a point we cannot budge on. The system has forced priorities onto us and that is at the top. We can, however, promise you that you will be back.”

“What do you mean? What’s happening on our world?”

“Submit to us, and we’ll ensure you survive to learn about it. You’ll be revived, just as the others of our kin.” The thin man gestured to a few of the soldiers. “More than a few of yours understood the rationale. We gave them the same deal: a place for them, and their families.”

“That’s a lie,” Cortez snapped.

“Why would I lie? My standing—well, lying here should be proof we can do as we say. The rest is just a matter of . . .” The thin man hesitated a moment. “Paperwork? Details, at any rate.”

The group was left in stunned silence at the offer.

Before anyone could answer, Pat called out. They each turned to see a dust trail rising in the distance, the unmistakable sign of something traveling the road.

“—unker Three, we are fifteen minutes from your location.” The radio sounded from behind Nowak.

“Thank god for small miracles,” Nowak said in a low voice.

Asle watched the approaching cloud with trepidation.

She had never really liked the army, or trusted them, even despite her friends’ insistence that they were “better than most assholes.”

But now, seeing the smiles on the others’ faces, she couldn’t help but hope that she was wrong.

Chapter 41: Useful

“Ow . . .” Summers grit his teeth as Synel pulled another shard of metal from his back.

“Least you look a little less . . . dead.” Cortez was smiling down at him, but it was clear that she was worried.

Orvar and Pat were beside her; both stood tense. That probably wasn’t a good sign, everything considered. Summers’ brain wasn’t quite back to one hundred percent—not until he got about a weeks’ worth of sleep—but from the amount of blood that was slowly pooling around him, he was definitely not doing well.

“How’s it going back there . . . ?” Summers started to turn, then stopped as a jolt of pain ran through him.

Synel had insisted on taking a look at him after the incident, and he was fortunately too out of it to protest. As it turned out, he had enough shrapnel inside him to ensure he’d be pissing rust the rest of his life.

Only his back and left arm were really affected, though most of it was skin deep in the most literal sense. There was a good chance the stone-like skin on his torso, and his new, freakishly fast healing had kept him in one piece after the explosion.

“Almost done,” Synel assured. Her voice sounded shakier than he was used to.

They’d all been awake for some time now. Summers, being a soldier, had gotten used to falling asleep at a moment’s notice. So, while a few of them had managed to get at least a few hours of rest in between their frantic escapes, the others were not so lucky, and the fatigue was showing.

On top of that, Summers knew he needed real, actual medical attention. Thankfully, according to Nowak, the army was close.

“Here they come,” Nowak announced as a small column of Humvees rolled to a stop at the bottom of the hill. “Best behavior, people.”

Summers watched as soldiers in full gear stepped out, almost all of them wearing some kind of hazmat equipment—gas masks and plastic coverings. Most gawked at the bodies of the men who’d died in the battle, giving them a wide berth.

A woman moved to the front of the pack, snapping off orders as she came forward. She was short, angry, and far older than Summers would have expected. Definitely an officer. Nowak had mentioned the woman he spoke with on the radio was an O-5, though Summers wasn’t clear on how that rank translated in a place like this.

“Lieutenant Colonel Rivers?” Nowak gave the woman a tired salute.

“Sergeant.” The colonel smiled. “I’m happy to see you made it.”

“Not as happy as we are, ma’am. We need medical assistance. One of our own’s torn up pretty bad.”

“Jacobs!” Rivers signaled a man. He rushed forward toward their group for about a dozen feet, and then stopped.

Actually, the entire group was now staring directly at Summers.

“The fuck are you waiting for?” Cortez asked. “He needs help.”

“Stay where you are!” Rivers yelled, the slightest hint of panic in her voice. “Step away from that man, now.”

Summers looked down at his bloodied, gray chest. Of course. It was natural she’d think he was like the others infected by the hamr.

Nowak raised his hands, looking between the colonel and Summers. “Colonel Rivers, ma’am, I know what you’re thinking, but if you’ll hear us out—”

“I will hear an explanation when you have stepped away from him! Now move!”

Summers nodded to the now nervous Synel, trying to struggle to his feet. From what he’d seen, anyone who had been under the hamr’s control didn’t talk much. So, that left at least one easy way to set her at ease.

“Colonel . . .” Summers steadied himself. “I think you’ll want to hear