Page 24 of V-Day
Staggering in a way which made him appear drunk, Adán limped down the flagstone path toward the front of the house. The screaming was growing louder now. Shots sounded. Shouting.
As he got closer to the corner, the panic grew louder.
He raised the rifle as he reached the corner, intending to ease himself around it and see what was happening, yet be ready to fire, just in case.
As he turned the corner, an Insurrecto who had been lingering on the other side brought the butt of his rifle down on Adán’s head.
He dropped like a tree, his brain buzzing, pain shrieking along every nerve in his body. He was face down and by sheer good fortune had landed with his head turned. He could see everything, through a long lens which telescoped it and made it all seem far away. Four black Escalades, their Hertz rental stickers bright in the morning light, all their doors open. Gray-clad soldiers all over the gravel drive, rounding up the civilians, driving them back into the house, shooting the walking wounded Loyalist soldiers trying to defend them.
Bodies on the ground.
Just like me. I’m on the ground. It was the first coherent thought and the last, for another bright spark flared, stealing his vision and his consciousness.
*
OLIVIA PUT DOWN THE PHONE, her hand shaking. She rolled over to shake Daniel. He was already awake.
“What’s happened?” he asked, sitting up.
“I don’t know. Betty just said you must go at once.”
“To the White House?”
“Yes. Through the West Wing.” She bit her lip. “Do you know where to go?”
“No. You’ll have to come with me.” He stalked to the bathroom.
Unease touched her. She had not been included in the directive.
Daniel paused with his hand on the bathroom doorframe and looked back at her. “I’m not leaving you here alone,” he said. “It sounds as though things are moving, ‘livvy. This might even be the start of the end game. I want you where I can cover you, if it comes to it.”
She shuddered and pushed the covers aside.
*
PARRIS GRAVES HAD A GREATpoker face, Chloe decided, although even she looked startled by Cristián’s announcement that he knew the location of the drone’s control room.
Cristián shook his head. “I mean, I know where it most likely is. The Palace isn’t it. The Palace and the admin building are the center of military bureaucracy. The administrative arm. The headquarters for the executive arms has always been Pascuallita base. Serrano has been in the army since he left high school. He won’t think to change it. The drone is being controlled from somewhere inside the base, I guarantee it.”
“You can’tguaranteethat,” Chloe shot back. “You’re guessing.”
“Extrapolating,” Cristián replied. He looked at Parris. “Some of the Insurrectos using the town wore flight regiment badges.”
“Pilots,” Parris interpreted, her tone heavy. She gazed at her watch and Chloe got the sensation she wasn’t reading the time but thinking fast.
Parris dropped her arm. “I have a call to make.” She glared at Cristián. “Don’t go anywhere.” She moved away, walking fast, weaving among the campers with light, quick steps and disappeared.
“The Situation Room?” Chloe guessed.
“Most likely,” Cristián murmured, his eyes narrowed as he watched where Parris had disappeared.
Chloe waited for him to glance at her once more. After thirty long seconds, he seemed to realize she was there. His gaze settled on her face, then moved away.
“Cristián, look at me,” she said.
He sighed and looked at her. His gaze was clear and hard.
“Is it because I’m American? Black? A woman? Tell me.”
