Manipulating Mikey (First Wave Book 8) (2 page)

“I didn’t save your life only for
you to die there. Don’t take any chances; if you need extraction, you call
immediately. I’m going to get our guys on the schematics and security protocols
and see if we can find a loophole to get in,” Grai said, calling Traze and
David through the Shengari’.

“Let me know the where and when,”
Brandon said, confident that Grai didn’t let him live just to screw him over
during the end game.

“I want you nowhere near that place
when this goes down. I’ll keep you updated. If anything changes, call me
immediately,” Grai said.

“OK,” Brandon said before the call
ended.

Grai stood and paced his office at
the headquarters in Dillon, Texas, as he waited for David and Traze to arrive.
He tried hard to tamp down on the desire to burn Fort Huachuca to the ground to
get to Koda.

Traze was the first in the door,
David not far behind him. They sat down in the chairs across from Grai’s desk
and waited for Grai to speak. They didn’t have to wait long.

“Fort Huachuca. He’s in a facility
that can only be reached through a tunnel that extends under Miller Peak,” Grai
said as he entered the information into his comm and displayed an aerial view
on the wall behind him.

David whistled and stood to get a
closer look at the image on the wall.

“Son of a bitch. Do you know what
that place is?” he asked, looking worriedly at Grai.

Grai nodded his head and began put
up other information on the wall around the office.

“I heard. We can’t just blow this
place up, and getting in is going to be really damn hard to do. Anyone have
suggestions?” Grai asked, determined to get his brother.

David ran a hand down his face and
stared at the image.

“Let me contact a few friends who
can get on the base and do some reconnaissance for us,” David suggested,
reaching for his comm.

“What kind of friends?” Grai asked.

David laughed.

“The kind that have helped us
before. These guys are some of the best. The only damn reason they aren’t still
out there fighting is because the government believes that after giving their
limbs for this country, they are no longer useful,” David said.

He trusted the men with his life,
and he loved giving them things to do to help. It not only made them feel
useful, but their minds sure as hell weren’t affected by the loss of a limb,
and intelligence was what they needed.

Grai snorted and nodded at David.

“Their stupidity will be our gain
then. If you have friends that you think could be trusted with the truth and
you’re willing to let Blade make sure of that, I have no problem bringing them
in and allowing Amun to make them whole again. But they would have to give up
the life they know and disappear,” Grai offered.

Too many good men and women are
abandoned after they serve their government and society,
Grai
thought.

David swallowed the lump in his
throat and nodded his head. It was an amazing opportunity for some of the
warriors that he knew, but he also knew that he would have to think about it
very carefully. The wrong choice could do irreparable damage to more than just
the aliens.

“Thank you, it is something I will
consider. Until then, we’ll get some guys on this,” David said, sending an
urgent text.

David stopped and looked up at
Grai.

“They won’t help if they think one
of their own is going to get hurt. So we have to agree that we’re not going in
there with the intent of killing anyone. These men are warriors, not traitors,
and they are dedicated to their country, so we walk a fine line here,” David
said, seeing the tic in Grai’s jaw.

“We’ll use stun and disabling
weapons only. You know as well as I do that any information we get from that
place will never fall into any hands but our own. I have no desire to take down
any country,” Grai said with a nod.

*****

Several hours later, four men drove
a large RV into the security line at the checkpoint at Fort Huachuca. The men
waited patiently for their turn at the entrance, and when the driver pulled up
next to the Military Police guard at the gate, all four men handed their
military IDs to him. 

“You guys just passing through?”
the private asked the unusual group as he looked at the badges.

The man in the wheelchair, missing
both legs and part of his left arm, nodded his head.

“Yeah, we’re starting out on a road
trip and we decided to camp here for a few days while we plan the rest of the
trip,” he said.

“You guys got cable TV access at
your campgrounds, so you were our first stop with football season in full
swing,” another one of the group said with a grin as he looked at the brochure
for the recreational area.

The private smiled and nodded his
head.

“Yeah, it’s pretty nice out
there—and quiet this time of year. You guys should be able to have some fun,”
the private said with a smile as he handed them back their badges.

Once the men found the campground,
they parked the RV and set up their equipment.

The man in the wheelchair turned to
look at the other three.

“David needs to know all about this
place. So don’t scrimp on the details. You know what to do to get this done,”
he said as the men nodded and left the RV.

Hours later, in the basement area
of the Army Intelligence Center, a man deftly maneuvering around on a
prosthetic leg was finally stopped at a basement elevator—one that went down,
not up.

“Sir, I don’t know how you got down
here, but you need to leave,” an armed guard said as he radioed for backup.

The injured warrior grabbed his
chest with one hand, feigning surprise, and held the wall with the other.

“Thank God, son. I got lost and
kept getting turned around! I can’t find the guys I came in here with. My mind
doesn’t work the way it used to since I got back from Afghanistan,” he said as
he put a hand to his head.

The guard’s stance softened as he
looked at the man’s prosthetic leg.

“It’s OK, man. I know what that’s
like. I have a friend from basic who is going through the same thing. My buddy
is coming, and he’ll help you get back out of here,” the guard said as the man
shifted his weight from his prosthetic.

“I was trying to see the museum in
here. I don’t know how I got so turned around. You’d never know that a few
years ago I was an excellent tracker,” the man said, rubbing his prosthetic leg
like he was in pain.

The guard never noticed the camera
hidden in the artificial limb that was allowing the man to take detailed
pictures of the entire area, guard locations, and security measures inside the
building.

The man in the RV was receiving the
images being provided by each of the three men while they “accidently” appeared
in places they shouldn’t be, compiled them, and sent them directly to David. At
the same time, he was using the free Wi-Fi to hack into the NETCOM systems and
stream the information directly to David.  

The last message David received was
one that made him laugh.

“We’re staying until you get done
what you need done. Call us if you need a distraction. We may not be whole by
their standards, but we can still wreak some damn havoc. So give a bunch of gimpy
buddies a break and give us something exciting to do.”

David kept his friends on speed
dial.

Chapter Two

Mikey stared at the ceiling and
gritted his teeth to keep from spewing invectives at the crazy bastard hovering
above him.

Another day, another torture from
the king of bastards,
Mikey thought as he tried to block the pain.

“If you would just tell us where
they are, this could stop,” Donald said with a wicked smile.

When Mikey still didn’t say
anything, Donald drew the blade farther down his thigh. He smiled in glee as
Mikey tensed and clenched his fists against the new set of bonds holding him to
the table. The last ones had only lasted a day before he’d broken out of them.

Mikey forced a laugh, only because
he knew that the men on the other side of the mirror would mock Donald, and his
only joy these last few weeks was needling the bastard who tortured his mind
and body at all hours of the day and night.

“You ignorant ass. At this point,
I’d rather die than tell you anything,” Mikey said before he spit in his face.

For a moment, Donald looked
stunned, and he woodenly wiped his face with both hands before he shrieked in
rage and drove the knife into Mikey’s thigh, inches from his manhood.

Mikey hissed for a moment before he
started laughing.

“And you’re supposed to be the best
we got for intelligence? You’re nothing more than a spoiled, sadistic asshole
who couldn’t hack it as a real soldier so your rich, political father bought
you this cushy job instead. Why? Was it easier than trying to cover up all the
puppies and kitties you killed or the girlfriends you beat up because they
laughed at your little dick?” Mikey said through gritted teeth, using the
taunts and accusations that he’d heard from the laughing men behind the mirror.

Donald shrieked again, but this
time the door burst open before he could use the scalpel he’d grabbed off the
nearby table. Several soldiers wrestled him out of the door before a lieutenant
colonel came inside and stood beside Mikey.

“Get that cleaned up,” he ordered
someone as he studied Mikey.

A male nurse came inside, gingerly
pulled the knife from Mikey’s thigh, and quickly bandaged it as the lieutenant
colonel paced the room. When he was done, the nurse scurried quickly from the
room.

Lt. Col. Marcus Ballard stared at
the young man on the table for a moment.

“Tell me again how you ended up in
that forest,” Marcus asked.

Mikey gritted his teeth and flexed
against his restraints.

“I told you people that a hundred
damn times already, you son of a bitch!” Mikey ground out.

“Watch your tone, boy, I’m still
your commanding officer,” Marcus barked out.

Mikey burst out laughing before he
glared at the man who’d been ordering his torture.

“You lost the right to that respect
when you decided to use me as your personal lab rat! Fuck you!” Mikey yelled,
fighting against his restraints until his wrists began to trickle blood from
the stress.

Marcus felt pretty confident in the
restraints and grabbed the young man by the throat, choking him.

“You can either work with me, or I
can just end it now,” Marcus threatened.

Mikey stared up at the man with
hatred in his eyes as he clenched his fists, the middle finger on each hand
raising at the officer.

Marcus saw the offensive gesture
and finally let go of Mikey’s throat. It was obvious that the threat of death
no longer had an impact on the alien/human man on the table. Marcus could well
understand why after what Donald had put the man through over the last few
weeks. It didn’t change the fact that he needed answers.

Marcus sighed and decided to try a
new tactic.

“Look, kid, if you’re telling the
truth and you were in the wrong place at the wrong time, maybe you’re right and
you were infected by something in that ship. If that’s the case, it makes those
things even more dangerous to our country, and we need your help to find out if
we’re going to find a cure,” Marcus said, seeing the interest flicker in the
young man’s eyes.

Thinking that he may have found a
way into the kid’s confidence, Marcus sat down beside the young man.

“You’ve had an exemplary record,
son. You’re been a good soldier. You have to realize how this looks from our
point of view. We’re fighting an invasion of these things, and until now, we
had no idea that they could infect us,” Marcus said, keeping his tone even.

Mikey had struggled to see how it
looked from their point of view for weeks. He’d tried to help them figure it
out so they could help him, but instead they’d made it worse. Each time they
tortured him, he could feel something in him becoming stronger as if being in
danger was intensifying whatever he was infected with.

He looked up at Marcus, not
trusting the man at all.

“I begged you to help me. To get
this thing out of me. Instead, you tortured me! You let that sick bastard carve
me up like a damn turkey!” Mikey ground out.

Marcus shook his head, wondering if
the kid really did have no idea what happened to him and if he really had been
infected. All he knew was after what the kid had been put through, he should
have cracked by now. Even if he could heal fast, it didn’t stop him from
feeling the pain before his body healed.

“Look, tell me again what happened,
and maybe we can figure out a way to help each other,” Marcus said, trying to
get the kid to cooperate.

It didn’t matter to his employers
if Mikey had been infected or not, he was still going to be studied and
eventually dissected so they could learn more about the creatures causing them
so many problems. But the kid didn’t have to know that, and it would be better
if Marcus could get him to cooperate for this at least.

Mikey felt his head tingle before
he heard the voice whisper through his mind.

“He lies. He means to get you to
cooperate before they do worse to us. Do not trust him,”
the voice
said.

Mikey didn’t need the voice to tell
him what he already knew. The weeks he’d spent in that bastard’s company had
taught him one hell of a lesson about his worth to his country, and he wouldn’t
make the mistake of trusting them again. If he’d ever had any doubts about how
badly veterans were treated, they were gone.

Mikey turned to Marcus and sneered.

“You are no better than the
bastards who infected me. At least I didn’t fight and almost die for them
before they fucked me over, so go to hell,” Mikey said before he doubled his
efforts against his restraints.

Marcus sighed and walked out of the
room. He’d seen the kid’s interest in figuring out how he’d become infected so
he had hope that if they changed their tactics, they may be able to get him to
cooperate.

Marcus barked out orders to those
standing around the hallway and moments later Mikey’s gurney was being wheeled
down a long hallway and into a different room.

Marcus nodded for the staff to
leave the room and he moved to stand next to Mikey.

“Look kid, if you’re telling the
truth, then now is the time to prove it. You can help us, or we can go back to
trying the other route again, and I’ll bring Donald—” Marcus said, but didn’t
get to finish.

“I won’t attack anyone. Sir. I want
to know what the hell happened to me out there and how to fix it,” Mikey said,
not daring to hope that he’d be let go.

Mikey wasn’t stupid; he’d seen the
locks on the door when he was wheeled in the room, but even if he was still locked
up, at least he’d be able to move around.

Marcus nodded his head and turned
away while the catheter was removed from the kid. When the nurse left the room,
he turned back around and released the wide buckle on his right wrist. He
stepped back when the kid yanked his arm to his chest and rubbed it up and
down.

“Thank you,” Mikey said as he
reached over to get his other hand.

Marcus stepped closer to the door
as the kid finished removing his restraints and jumped up to stand on the other
side of the bed.

Mikey paced on the other side of
the gurney from the Lt. Col. needing to move but not wanting to scare the man
into having him drugged and restrained again.

I’ll die before I let them do that
to me again
, Mikey thought.

“Tell me what happened that day,
kid,” Marcus prompted.

He knew what the kid said happened;
he’d heard it a hundred times since they started trying to break him. There was
something about what he said that kept niggling at the back of his mind, but he
couldn’t place what it was. Marcus was hoping that hearing it again might help
him to figure it out.

“I was going hiking. The road was
closed, there was a deputy and a military unit that had no designation on their
sleeve. I went to the nearest base, and Sarge went back with me to see what was
going on. We went to the same roadblock, only this time it was a bunch of ROTC
kids. We parked on the side of the road, I saw a freaking UFO, and next thing I
know the damn thing is a blazing fireball coming right at us . . . then I was
here,” Mikey said, running his hands over his head.

“What made you go back to the
forest? Why didn’t you report it to your commanding officer?” Marcus asked.

Mikey looked at him like he’d lost
his mind.

“And say what? I saw a UFO and some
ROTC kids? You think I’d have ended up somewhere better than this if I’d said
that?” he asked, spreading his arms wide to show the room.

Marcus chuckled and nodded his
head.

“Good point. But you did say
something to this guy, Sarge?” he countered, seeing the slump in Mikey’s
shoulders.

“Yeah, I don’t know why. I was
drinking and was pretty pissed off that after being overseas I couldn’t even go
on vacation. Trust me, if I knew then what my curiosity would lead to I would
have done it differently. Poor Sarge,” Mikey admitted with a shake of his head.

“What do you know about your . . .
infection?” Marcus asked, changing the topic to try and trip the kid up.

“Damn, I wish I knew something. I
feel weird,” Mikey said, flexing his arms and feeling stronger than he ever had
before.

“Weird, how?” Marcus wanted to
know.

Mikey had already discarded the
idea of telling anyone about the voice in his head and focused on the physical
changes he’d noticed over the last weeks. Some of them anyway.

“I feel stronger. Like I took
steroids or something, and I can see better,” Mikey admitted, leaving out the
part about his hearing. He didn’t think they needed to know that he was spying
on their conversations.

Marcus nodded his head. He already
knew those things because the doctors told him about the physical differences
in the kid, but he was impressed that Mikey had been honest about it.

“Are you willing to let us do some
tests?” Marcus asked, wondering how far Mikey would go if it was a setup.

“I’ll do whatever you want as long
as it doesn’t entail anything I’ve already been through and doesn’t involve
having that bastard around,” Mikey quickly agreed.

Marcus chuckled and tried to
pretend a more casual appearance around the kid to put him at ease.

“If you’ll cooperate, I’ll keep
Donald away from you and make sure things don’t get out of hand again,” Marcus
lied.

“He’s lying!”
the voice
in Mikey’s head shouted in his mind, causing him to flinch.

Mikey tried to cover it by forcing
a shudder.

“Yeah, knocking off the torture
crap would be a plus. Start your tests,” Mikey said, thinking whatever they had
planned couldn’t be worse than what he’d already been through.

Marcus motioned to someone in the
hallway, and when the soldier entered the room, he whispered in his ear.

Within minutes there were a half
dozen people in the small room all with clipboards and barraging him with
questions. Marcus whistled to get everyone’s attention.

“One at a time,” he ordered,
watching Mikey’s reaction to each question.

His first thought was that the kid
was exceptionally bright. He was calm and articulate in his answers, responding
to each with the same tone of voice and without hesitation. It told Marcus that
either the kid had been trained to avoid giving himself away or he was telling
the truth. He hoped it was the former and not the latter, because if Mikey was
telling the truth, the ramifications to humanity would be devastating.

Marcus pulled out his own mini
notebook and jotted down a few notes for himself. Namely, he wanted the kid’s
blood retested. He wanted every strand of his DNA mapped by breakfast and
probabilities of infection and containment models by lunch.

Mikey tried his best to ignore the
voice in his head as he answered the questions being thrown at him. Some he
couldn’t answer at all; others he skated over as smoothly as he could. As much
as he wanted to cooperate, he had to agree with the voice in his head—none of
these people could be trusted.