Page 11 of Shadow Blind

This house hadn’t been occupied in months, maybe even years.

They’d been set up.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

The litany went on and on in his head.

“Copy, Alpha One.” Montana’s voice was muffled as though he were consulting with someone to the side. “Light it up and search the town.”

They left the house with Grub releasing the M14 grenade and rushing out to join them. The explosion rocked the eerie silence behind them. A ball of flames and debris leaped into the sky. Nobody came to investigate. They searched the entire town, their bodies tense, their breathing choppy, their silence ripe with fear. They didn’t find Kuznetsov, or the drone specs, or any survivors. Whatever hit this town had a 100% fatality rate.

If he and his brothers were infected…

Don’t think about it. Focus on the job and get out.

“Golden Eagle, target is cold,” Aiden announced into his comm once they’d searched the last house.

“Copy,” Montana said. “Hold for orders.”

“If these new orders involve collecting samples from this hellhole, they can go fuck themselves,” Lurch muttered.

Aiden grunted in agreement and hoped his buddy had turned his comm off.

“Alpha one.” Montana’s voice sounded tense. “Head to exfil. Be aware, evac is delayed. We have a CDC team en route. Keep us apprised of any changes to your team’s health and mental acuity.”

Montana’s terse order shortened Aiden’s stride. Translation. Let us know if you, or any of your teammates, go nuts.

Aiden flinched.

Fuuuck.

Did base think this insanity bug came on so fast it would infect his team within hours of leaving town? How soon had it affected the villagers? When had they died? The subzero temperatures made it difficult to assess time of death.

He keyed his mic. “Agent Dawson. You said the latest SAT images were consistent with earlier ones. Did any of the images pick up the dead bodies? Any evidence of when they died?”

“No. There were no bodies on the SAT scans.” Dawson’s voice sounded defensive. But then, he knew how fucked that was. The bodies should have been visible…unless someone had scrubbed the images before sending them on. “I’ve sent them in for analysis.”

Aiden grimaced. Great. It would take days for the Farm to issue a report.

As they scaled the hill toward their exfil site, the ice-shrouded grass crackled beneath each footfall. Aiden listened to the harsh breathing of his teammates as they climbed beside him. Never had their breathing been so loud, or their tension so sharp, after completing a mission. He could taste the fear in the air—both his and his brothers’. The sharp, metallic taste of it filled his mouth. They all knew their lives were at risk the second they hopped off a chopper—hell, even before their boots hit the ground sometimes—and that each mission courted the ultimate sacrifice—the giving of their lives.

But not like this. Not through insanity and violence. Not through the ultimate betrayal and the slaughter of his brothers, the men he’d sworn to protect. He wanted to believe that wouldn’t happen, that his team had escaped whatever had driven the inhabitants of Karaveht crazy, driven them to kill each other.

But he couldn’t push the fear aside, because that damn internal alarm was still screaming in his head, warning him that the danger was far from over.

Chapter five

Day 2

Washington, D.C.

Clark Nantz braced his right ankle on his left thigh, repositioned his laptop closer to his torso, and leaned forward in the elephant chair. His heart pounded harder than normal as he clicked the first small window on the screen. Finally, after months of preparation, his new weapon had come out to play. The aftermath of its testing, which was about to play across his laptop screen, would change the landscape of human conflict and propel him to the top of the world’s billionaires list.

The video—which came from Aiden Winchester’s camera, according to the name below the feed—was jerky, alternating between a wintery dark night, snow crusted road, and shadowy hills. Suddenly, it steadied and zeroed in on a lump in the middle of the road. The lump got closer.

The breathing on the video was calm…even…barely discernable.

Clark scoffed. Winchester didn’t have a clue what he was walking into. His breathing would turn choppy soon enough.

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