Page 188 of Knot Their Soldier: Part One
“The chances of something happening to General Stone are low,” I add as a voice of reason.
“What happens if we can’t make contact?” Halley says, her voice wavering slightly.
“We’re on a classified mission reporting only to General Stone. He’s our primary contact and the files aren’t accessible to anyone below his rank,” I provide, explaining how fucked we are if the General doesn’t answer. “As far as anyone else is concerned, this mission doesn’t exist.”
“So no one else knows we’re out here?”
“Bingo,” Blaze says, flipping his lighter for effect.
Knox tries three more times over the next two hours without success.
The late afternoon sun has chased away the chill in the mountain air and I’m transfixed by the light beading of sweat on Halley’s brow. When a drop tracks down her cheek, Blaze appears in a flash to lick it up with his tongue.
“Hey!” Halley protests through a chuckle. “No face licking until later.”
“Ah, so there will be licking later. Promises, promises, Sparkles.”
She giggles and blushes prettily. It’s a damn good thing she thinks our resident nut job is adorable.
Knox sighs and nods curtly. “It’s time. I’m going to contact Barkrood Base to see if they can locate the General.”
He turns the dial and speaks into the receiver. “Barkrood Base, this is Prime Alpha Knox. Do you copy? I repeat, do you copy?”
My skin prickles as the radio stays silent. I don’t like that he has to use his real rank and title over the compromised line, but it’s the only way he’ll get the information we need.
“Barkrood Base, this is Prime Alpha Knox. Please respond, over.”
“This is not good,” I breathe. Even stranger than General Stone not answering the secure channel is Barkrood Base not responding. Something is very wrong.
Blaze gets up and paces like a caged animal.
Viper is stiff and on edge, his nostrils flaring, eyes narrowing.
Halley is frowning and biting her bottom lip, the flesh turning red and swollen. I don’t stop her.
We wait, the tension growing by the second, until finally, after what feels like an eternity, a pop breaks the crackle of static.
“This is Hazlin Base. This is a secure military channel. Incorrect use will result in prosecution. Confirm your identity and security code.”
We all blink at each other.
Knox definitely called for Barkrood Base. Why would Hazlin Base answer?
Also, Knox identified himself. Prime Alphas don’t get questioned like this. Ever. They’re above reproach.
“Copy, Hazlin. This is Prime Alpha Thorin Knox of Scorch Squad, security code six-nine-six-niner-Foxtrot-Uniform-Charlie-Kilo-Uniform.”
Blaze snorts in amusement. Perhaps letting him select our squad security code wasn’t the smartest decision we’ve made. Spelling out ‘Fuck U’ in the military phonetic alphabet wasn’t going to earn us any good will.
“Requesting transfer to General Stone as a matter of urgency, over,” Knox says, his voice sharp with authority. His eyes are flinty, keeping his temper under control.
Halley sits up straighter and I realize it’s probably the first time she’s heard Knox’s first name. She doesn’t know any of our actual names, just our call signs.
The voice returns, equally authoritative. “I repeat. You are not authorized to use this secure military channel—”
Knox loses his fight with his temper.
“As a Prime Alpha I have authority to use this and any channel I so please. Do not disobey my orders. Transfer me to General Stone, ASAP. Over,” Knox snarls, a low warning rumble echoing in his chest. Alpha Commands don’t work over radio.
