Chapter 4 - The airfield had been abandoned for twenty-three years.At least according to public records.
According to the fence surrounding it, nobody had been there in years.
According to the footprints in the mud, somebody had arrived this morning.
I parked half a mile away.
Rex and I walked the rest.
No lights.
No vehicles.
No voices.
Just wind moving through the broken hangars.
I checked the weapon.
Then the second weapon.
Then looked at Rex.
“You ready?”
His ears lifted.
I smiled.
“Yeah.”
We reached the main hangar at 2:17 a.m.
The doors were open.
That bothered me.
Invitations are rarely good news.
I stepped inside.
The darkness swallowed us.
Then the lights came on.
One by one.
At the far end of the hangar stood a woman.
Black coat.
Short dark hair.
A scar beneath her left eye.
She looked exactly like the photograph.
Captain Elena Ward.
Alive.
Rex stopped.
He stared at her.
She stared at him.
Neither moved.
I raised my weapon.
“Elena.”
She smiled faintly.
“Still pointing guns at people you love?”
“I watched them put your coffin in the ground.”
“It wasn't me inside.”
“Who was?”
“A volunteer.”
My jaw tightened.
“You let me mourn you.”
“I had no choice.”
“You always have a choice.”
Her expression hardened.
“No. You don't.”
She glanced at Rex.
Then back at me.
“You brought him.”
“I was told to.”
“So you followed instructions.”
“That depends.”
“On what?”
“Whether I still trust you.”
She smiled.
“You shouldn't.”
Then the lights behind me came on.
I turned.
We were surrounded.
Six armed men.
No insignia.
No visible rank.
They weren't club members.
They were military.
Or something close enough.
Rex stepped beside me.
Elena raised her hand.
Everyone lowered their weapons.
“Put yours down,” she said.
“No.”
She sighed.
“I knew you'd say that.”
“Tell me why Rex is carrying Project Echo.”
She looked at the dog.
Then at me.
“Because Project Echo wasn't a weapons program.”
“What was it?”
“A contingency.”
“For what?”
Elena walked closer.
“For the possibility that the United States government would someday become too compromised to trust its own chain of command.”
I stared at her.
“That sounds insane.”
“It sounded insane eleven years ago.”
She pulled a thin folder from inside her coat.
She tossed it toward me.
I caught it.
Photographs.
Names.
Bank accounts.
Military officers.
Politicians.
Judges.
Federal contractors.
And one name appeared again and again.
GENERAL MARCUS VALE.
My old commanding officer.
The man who had signed my discharge papers.
The man who had awarded Rex his service medal.
The man who had personally attended Elena's funeral.
I looked at Elena.
“Vale is involved.”
“He created Echo.”
“For what?”
“To build a network outside the military chain.”
“And the Vipers?”
“Recruitment and transportation.”
I thought about Butch.
“Then he's not the leader.”
“No.”
“Who is?”
Elena didn't answer.
The hangar doors suddenly slammed shut.
A metallic sound echoed above us.
Then the floor beneath Rex clicked.
Elena's face changed.
“Move!”
I grabbed Rex.
The floor exploded.
Concrete shattered.
I rolled beneath a support beam as bullets tore through the hangar.
The men around us opened fire.
Not at me.
At Elena.
She dropped behind a vehicle.
I looked at her.
“You brought me into a trap.”
“No.”
She fired over the hood.
“They brought both of us.”
A bullet struck the vehicle beside me.
Rex jumped through the smoke.
He disappeared behind the attackers.
Seconds later someone screamed.
I fired.
Another man went down.
Chaos filled the hangar.
Then the lights died.
Complete darkness.
I heard footsteps.
A door opened.
Someone whispered:
“Take the dog.”
I lunged toward the sound.
My fingers caught fabric.
I pulled.
A man crashed into me.
We hit the floor.
I punched him once.
Twice.
He stopped moving.
I shouted:
“REX!”
No answer.
I ran into the darkness.
“Rex!”
Nothing.
Then I heard him.
One bark.
Far away.
Behind the eastern wall.
I sprinted.
When the emergency lights came back on, the hangar was empty.
The attackers were gone.
Elena was gone.
And Rex was gone.
Only one thing remained on the floor.
His collar.
I picked it up.
Inside the broken metal capsule was a handwritten note.
May you like
YOUR DOG ISN'T THE ASSET.
YOU ARE.
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