28. ARCHER

28

ARCHER

Slate, my bodyguard, walks up to me and leans in to say, “Raven is at the medical center. He is in surgery. Lost a lot of blood. They are doing a blood transfusion, but it’s too early to say what the outcome is yet.”

“Thanks, Slate.” I nod and try not to think of the negative outcome.

Many lives are at stake right now. Most residents are in the Center. I hope all of them are. But who knows if any were high or drunk or doing God knows what and decided to wait it out in their fancy cribs.

The Center is eerily quiet. Everyone is talking in hushed voices. We are all glued to the screens, watching Ayana being torn into pieces by explosions, several villas completely blown up to ashes.

The Commander and his men are locked in one of the offices. I’m firing their asses as soon as this is over. Though I’m not sure we will get through this anytime soon. Not unless Tsariuk brings help, and he said he’s coming as soon as we contacted him.

The screens flare up with more explosions. There are fewer, but they still shake up Ayana at all entry points. Most of them are hitting no one.

There were two attempts to breach the entries, but they were fought off. The guards have clear instructions not to attack but rather defend. We don’t want to lose more men. The attacks are precise, unlike the attack by the kids, who were a distraction. Yet, these are sneaky attacks, prepared beforehand, probably in hopes to receive orders how to proceed afterward. When Butcher, the fucking commander in chief, was still alive.

Which he is not.

“It looks like these are carefully planned attacks all around Ayana’s perimeter,” Ortiz says.

“Yeah, but most of Butcher’s men don’t know yet that Butcher is gone,” I say. “I think they are waiting for instructions from him.”

Dead. The motherfucker is dust. We all watched what unraveled between Butcher and Raven on the screens in tense shock. When Raven finally lunged at Butcher, shielding Sonny and taking a point-blank shot, even Ortiz roared, “Fuck!” And we all gasped in horror.

Maddy was the first one to reach them, despite the thugs in the jungle. She shot Butcher multiple times. Tsariuk will hang me when he finds out, but it’s not my fault that his daughter is a fucking Valkyrie, ready to kill for her man and kid. Then the guards finished Butcher and dragged her, the kid, and Raven away to safety. That very second, we gave the order to another team to go in with an all-assault.

The word of Butcher’s death will spread soon.

Good.

It’s unsettling how one evil human can end so many lives and start a senseless war.

“Boss!” one of my guys calls for my attention. “We just received a request for permission to land at Ayana.”

“Tsariuk?”

“Yes. A Cobra. A utility helicopter. Four Apaches. A jet?—”

“Whatever he wants.”

“A fucking jet? Really?” Marlow whistles.

Just then, my satellite phone rings. It’s the Russian devil himself.

“Mr. Crone, ready for a little intervention? If I do not find my daughter alive and well, I am bringing war on Zion.”

“Your daughter is safe. But we are in trouble, Mr. Tsariuk.”

“I know. I apologize for the delay. We had to wait for Raven to come out of surgery.”

“Raven?” Suddenly, my right-hand man is the center of everyone’s attention.

“Yes, we couldn’t interrupt the surgery. Milena asked me to wait. But he is out, currently in ICU. No other surgeries are in progress. So, we are ready to execute our plan. Now.”

“Tell me what to do.”

“I am on a direct line with your cyber-operations guy and my intervention team. I need you to send an emergency announcement to everyone at Ayana to get ready. In exactly five minutes, we are dropping the gas capsules. Five minutes. Be ready. The Center does not have open windows, so it should be safe even if you do not use the masks. But I would not count on it. I would like everyone to be prepared.”

When the kids were intercepted, I gave the order to send them to the medical ward and dispatched Kat and Margot there. I wanted my girls to overlook it.

So, I call Kat. “How is it?”

“Just dealing with the injured and the kids. I can hear the shooting and explosions outside. Are we safe?”

“You have to get the masks ready.”

“Okay. We need a minute. But there are thirty kids here. What do we do?”

“Use N95 masks and take the kids to the downstairs storage room.”

“Got it. When?”

“Now. You have five minutes. Take care of the kids. You can do it?”

“I can do anything.”

“That’s why I love you. Stay safe, please.”

“On it. Love you.”

The Center already got Tsariuk’s message. Several guards are pulling the crates with masks out. Several are taking those to the conference rooms for the residents.

The loudspeakers come alive in the Center and throughout Ayana, as do our phones’ emergency alerts.

“ATTENTION. Prepare for the gas attack. Masks on. Masks on. The countdown for the gas attack begins. Prepare for the attack. In four minutes and fifty-nine seconds.”

The masks for the IT guys and guards are equipped with microphones and speakers.

“Ready?” I hear Marlow’s voice when I put mine on. “I hope we don’t die within five minutes.”

“Chill,” I say. “I approved the formula.”

I did. In fact, a team of twenty chemists did. The gas formula was designed by a Russian lab a long time ago and was bought by the US government for capture-and-release during their operations to fight the rebel groups on the mainland after the Change.

We contacted the US military to get the aftermath report. The gas is an incapacitating agent that’s highly effective, extremely quick, but highly soluble in the air. Which means, we only have ten or so minutes during which it takes effect. It knocks an average human out for about an hour. Allergies are not severe. So, I’m not worried at all about those in Port Mrei who will be affected. The direct attack perimeter covers Ayana and the jungle up to the town limits. Those on the outskirts and in Ashlands will be affected, too. We are hoping to get all the rebels. Those in hiding might even stay awake with mild grogginess. Meanwhile, we will be able to secure the Ayana perimeter and eliminate hundreds of attackers, then take control of Port Mrei.

“One minute, thirty seconds,” the voice announces over the speaker.

Gas masks on, all of us are staring at the screens, waiting to see what happens as the countdown on the speakers continues.

“Do the aerial view of the island,” I say, and one of the screens shows us the helicopters hovering above Ayana and the jungle.

My nerves twist into a knot.

“Twenty five. Twenty four. Twenty three,” the AI voice does the countdown, and I want to dial Kat and stay on the phone with her. Just in case. Just in case this goes fucking sideways. Because nuclear attacks once did. So did the first night on Zion after the Change.

Nothing visibly changes, but the main screen shows little black dots, like birds, separating from the helicopters above Zion and dropping onto the island.

My eyes dart to another screen, one from the main Ayana entrance. Small objects, like emergency supplies, fall from the sky, hit the ground, and burst out with smoke.

I know how this works. I studied the incapacitating agent. I watched the military footage of it being implemented in the past. We did an instructional session with the department of chemical warfare.

And still, my heart thuds like a fucking drum.

“Give us the farthest camera from Ayana, where we can see the attackers,” I order.

“That’s from the main road, past the airport,” the voice says in my earpiece.

We watch the screen that shows a truck with the towners on the side of the road. The screen slowly starts getting hazy, and suddenly, the three men step off the truck and cough, burying their faces in their sleeves. In a minute, they are wobbling, slumping against the truck, sinking onto the ground.

“It’s working,” I murmur. “It’s working!” I say more confidently. “Send the order to be ready for an attack! Marlow, we are going to the airport. Let’s move!”

Marlow and I put on bulletproof vests and storm out of the Center, escorted by a dozen armed guards.

As soon as we step outside, a wall of milky haze slams into us. I didn’t realize that it’s early morning already, but the sun is not up, and everything outside looks like fog in the mountains. Except this fog is tangible, moving swiftly right in front of my mask shield like a cloud.

I put a lot of faith into Tsariuk. He knows what he’s doing and won’t fuck this up because his daughter is here.

I think of Kat. She is somewhere in charge of the kids. She is a trooper. I only wish I could be next to her right now. The wild thing is much better trained for this shit than me. It’s for the best she doesn’t see me nervously flexing my fingers.

“Sure this is safe?” Marlow asks.

“It’s an incapacitating agent. Relax, Marlow.”

Except I can’t. I just hope this works. I hope there are no casualties.

“It’s harmless. It’s temporary. It has minimal side effects,” I say as if trying to convince myself as we jump on ATVs. The guards create an all-around shield, and we move away from the parking lot and toward the airport in a convoy.

It’s dawn. Ayana is cloaked in the chemical fog. It’s strangely quiet, save for occasional gunshots here and there. Feels like a fantasy world. That’s what we used to love about Ayana—its peace. Until it was ripped out of our hands. This is our chance to take it back and do the right thing by its people.

Riding out of the main Ayana gate, I see fires blasting here and there, and several guards with masks on wave for us to pass through.

I swerve my ATV to go around a man on all-fours, crawling along the road. Then another one. There are several guns left behind them. Another group of men is on the ground, moving like zombies. Not ours—Butcher’s.

“It’s fucking working,” I murmur.

We pass more guards as we turn on the road that leads to the airport. They are all wearing masks, some of them have several guns hanging off their shoulder—they are disarming the rebels they find.

We are pushing through the chemical fog. I don’t even worry about how Tsariuk will land his army during this fog, because the man is a fucking Terminator.

The signs of the incapacitating agent’s effect are everywhere. There are motionless bodies on the ground. Peaceful, like sleeping animals. Surprisingly, they made it to the airport. There are no sounds of early birds. Nothing. Not even shots anymore. Except the air is trembling. There’s slight vibration in it. I can feel it on the surface of my skin. And it takes me a moment to realize that it’s the aircrafts, so powerful, somewhere out of sight, above us, that it makes the whole resort reverberate.

We drive through the airport gates. The red emergency light system for landing is on. And the jungle around the airport starts shaking as if during a storm.

There’s loud roaring in the air. A Cobra, a Sikorsky, I think. An entire fleet of Apaches are making circles above us in a wide radius, protecting the landing ones.

“Fuck me, did he bring an army with him?” I hear Marlow’s voice in my earpiece.

I chuckle. “What do you expect? It’s Papa fucking Tsariuk.”

The first helicopter to land looks like an iron monster descending from the sky.

“What the fuck is this?” Marlow asks.

“Mil Mi-26 Halo, sir,” the dispatcher’s voice in our earpieces says. “With a capacity of twenty tons.”

“Jesus,” Marlow says at the same time I think it.

“They are letting their tactical team out first,” the dispatcher says. “Then Mr. Tsariuk and his aid team.”

“ Aid team ,” Marlow snorts.

Dad used to teach me about all different aircrafts and military equipment. I never paid much attention. It wasn’t my thing. But I’m sure that a Halo is one of the heaviest lifters in the world with a capacity of close to 100 troops. I only saw one several times in my life when my dad took me on a work trip with him.

So, when that monster lands and an army pours out of it, I huff in shock as Marlow curses under his breath. “What do we do now?”

I put my hand on his shoulder. “Relax. That was part of the plan. Ortiz and Bishop should be on a direct line with their commander who is with Tsariuk in one of those Cobras. They are handling it. Ortiz will navigate the combat team to Ayana. That’s our priority. The rest, with our guards, will go through the jungle to Port Mrei. There’s another craft coming with first aid and supplies.”

I told Marlow to relax, though I’m stressed. We stand like fucking servants waiting for the king to make an appearance. It’s stuffy, despite early morning, my face under the mask sweating. Sweat trickles down my back. I look up to see that it’s raining. It’s just a drizzle that coats my mask’s lenses, and I have to wipe them off.

“Tsariuk said the rain will push down the gasses,” I say, remembering Bishop’s words. “So, that will eliminate the effect pretty quickly.”

“Does he control the fucking weather too?” Marlow snaps.

“Bishop is the former military meteorologist, remember? So, yeah, I would say they made sure they implemented the gas attack in that small window.”

“That fucking guy…” Marlow murmurs.

I look at my watch—the agent should be dispersed in the air while those who didn’t have masks would be fast asleep for at least an hour. Ayana should be fine. So will the hospital. Port Mrei is a different story. By the time they wake up, we hope to have the special ops taking charge of everything, now that Butcher is dead.

Tsariuk’s Cobra helicopter lands, his army surrounding it like he is the Pope landing in a war zone.

It’s not the first time Tsariuk has landed at Ayana, but I still look on in awe. This man is like Voland with an escort of dozens of the deadliest men. And Maddy—pardon, Milena—managed to get away from him?

A dozen men approach us, Tsariuk’s broad figure among them. Dozens of soldiers, all masked and armed to the tee, disperse, creating an entourage more impressive than my dad ever had. Tsariuk definitely reminds me of my father.

I check my watch again, then signal with my hand in the air and take off the mask.

The air smells bitter. Tsariuk approaches, pulling his mask off, too. He is no-nonsense, doesn’t even look around like he knows this place. It’s a miracle we managed to resolve Milena’s issues in a good way. Thanks, Raven. Otherwise, we could’ve been dusted like this island never existed.

“Mr. Tsariuk,” I say, shaking hands with the man whose handshake can break bones.

“Mr. Crone.” He nods.

“Your daughter is safe and is at the medical center,” I announce.

“I know,” he says calmly.

Of course, he does.

This guy just brought a legion of killers with him from across the world because he wanted to see his daughter. Some parents deserve a medal for being the world’s greatest dads, even if they are killers and criminals.

I feel a prickle of envy. I once had a dad.

I lock eyes with the man who made gas bombs rain on this island.

“The doctor says Raven is out of danger,” he says before I have a chance to tell him that.

He seems to know more about what’s happening than me. But for the first time, I feel no anger but respect. And relief that he is here.

“I want to see my daughter,” he says. “My men are setting up camp here and will be ready to move toward Port Mrei in?—”

He looks to the man next to him. “About five minutes, sir.”

Tsariuk nods in approval.

“You want me to stay behind and help?” I ask.

“With what?”

Yeah, with what? I feel like a fool on my own island. But this is war. I’m not used to navigating through combat. And I’m so fucking grateful for him.

Tsariuk smiles and puts his hand on my shoulder. “My men know what they are doing, Mr. Crone. They are taking charge of this operation. They are on direct line with your men.”

“The Commander is?—”

“A piece of shit, I know,” he cuts me off. “Do not worry. We will handle this.”

And finally, I feel like maybe Zion will come out of this war with minimum casualties.