Hell divers x fallout, p.5
Hell Divers X: Fallout, page 5
“Da-da’s going to be okay,” she said. “He’s going to come home to us, I promise.”
Rhino Jr. whimpered from the adjacent crib, looking up at Layla. He wasn’t talking yet, but Layla was sure that if he could say a word, it would be “Ma-ma.” She still couldn’t make herself believe that Sofia was dead. “I’m so sorry,” Layla said quietly. “I’m so sorry.”
She tried not to cry, tried to be strong. Holding Bray helped, but then Rhino Jr. started to whimper. He broke into tears, wanting to be picked up.
“Layla.”
The voice came from the hallway. Victor, who along with Ton had been King X’s faithful bodyguard, looked in on her with exhausted eyes. His gaze and clear voice told her he hadn’t been sleeping.
“Can I help?” he asked.
“Yes, please.”
Victor walked into the room and picked up Rhino Jr., rocking the chubby baby in his muscular arms. He had spent the past few days staying with her and the kids to help out. He had been a godsend since Michael was imprisoned, not only protecting the kids but also helping look after them.
He seemed to like being here too, especially after what had happened to Ton. They didn’t know details, only that Ton had died in the standoff with Charmer and the Wave Runners.
“It okay,” Victor said. “You safe. You okay.”
Layla and Victor walked with the children, rocking them and whispering softly until they both fell back asleep. Quietly they put the boys down and left the room.
Layla went into the kitchen to look out the window at the moon. She could see the other rigs in the distance—people who had grown to support King X and Michael over the past year and a half.
Surely, some of them would fight for Michael if they knew the truth.
But how?
How could Layla prove that her husband wasn’t responsible?
“Want some orange tea?” she asked Victor.
“Yes, thank you,” he replied.
She prepared the tea while he stared out the window.
“We must do something,” he said. “They kill Ton, take Michael, Steve, and the boy, Alton.”
Layla handed him a cup.
“We need allies,” she said. “People like us that know Michael isn’t capable of killing a child.”
“Yes, but we must be cautious.” Victor closed the shutters at the window. “I worry Charmer can hear everything we say.”
Layla feared the same thing, which was part of the reason they had yet to discuss things in detail. For the past few days, they had held her under armed guard. She wasn’t sure if she could even leave her quarters. But she knew that if she did, she would be followed.
Victor sat at the table and whispered, “Who can we trust? No one has even come here since . . .” His face twisted with anger and sadness, no doubt thinking about Ton.
He made a good point, too. Not even her friends, like Katherine Mitchells, the widow of Les Mitchells, had come to see her with their daughter, Phyl. Layla didn’t blame Katherine, after all her family had been through with losing Les and their son, Trey.
“I know a few people,” Layla said. Lieutenant Wynn for sure, but no one had seen him since the standoff that killed Ton. Pedro and his comrade Cecilia would more than likely support efforts to save Michael. But how could she even get to them without Charmer and his henchmen finding out?
“Pedro and his people might come to our aid, and we might be able to get some of the Cazadores to help us too,” Layla said. “Someone like Martino, who is very fond of Michael. He told me that Martino said he owed Michael a favor.”
Victor let out an uncharacteristic sigh. “I worry for you, Layla. The babies need you, especially if . . .”
“Michael is going to be okay,” she said. “We’re going to save him.”
“Charmer has spies everywhere. He will suspect us both. Hard to get help. That is why I must—”
“Wait. What did you say?” Layla interrupted.
“Getting help will be very hard.”
“Before that.”
“Charmer has spies everywhere.”
She sipped her tea as an idea formed in her mind. There was one person she hadn’t thought of until now. Someone she wasn’t sure she could trust, but a man who did seem to like her husband.
“There’s someone with more spies than Charmer,” she said.
“Who?”
“Imulah.”
Victor raised a brow. “Will he help?”
“Maybe, but it’s a huge risk.” Layla shook her head, unsure. “Maybe we should try to feel out Pedro first. His people seem uncorrupted by Charmer and his pals. Maybe they will help.”
“Maybe, but they went through a lot in Rio. They risk everything by helping.”
A knock sounded on the door.
Victor popped out of his seat and drew the cutlass he had sheathed over his back. He pulled it out and started toward the door.
“Open up, Mrs. Everhart,” said a silken voice outside.
Charmer.
She held up a hand for Victor to get back.
Then she walked over to the front door and looked through the peephole. Sure enough, Charmer stood there, peering back up at her with his unwavering eye. From what she could tell, he was alone.
She swallowed hard, unlocked the door. Opened it.
Charmer flashed that maddening grin, and once again she somehow resisted slapping it off his face.
“Ah, Mrs. Everhart, good evening,” he said.
“What do you want, Carl?” she asked.
“Ugh, I really wish you and your husband would stop calling me that. I prefer Charmer, or . . .”
“What do you want?”
Charmer frowned. “No need to be rude. I was just hoping to have a word with you, but first we’re going to need to search your apartment.”
Raising a finger, he beckoned two men from the shadows. These weren’t sky people. These were Cazadores, and one of them wore a helmet bearing the crown of a Siren’s skull.
They both held drawn swords, but Charmer waved his hand.
“Put those ugly things away,” he said. “You’re not afraid of a woman and two babies.”
The man with the Siren skull on his helmet said something in Spanish about Victor.
“Is Victor with you?” Charmer asked her.
She knew better than to lie right now.
“Yes,” she said.
“And does he have a weapon?”
“Yes.”
“Ah, kindly bring it to me, to make this less difficult.”
Layla walked back inside to find Victor holding the cutlass. She reached out. “I need that,” she said.
“What if they come to take you? I will defend you and the children,” Victor said.
“And you will die,” she whispered. “This is not the time to fight.”
Victor seemed to hesitate a moment, then relaxed and handed her the hilt of the cutlass. She took it and went back to Charmer.
“The babies are sleeping,” she said.
“We will be quiet, don’t worry,” he replied.
She considered reasoning with Charmer to set her husband free but quickly pushed the thought aside. It would do no good because her husband was more useful to him dead than alive. He had plotted this for a very long time.
“The sword,” Charmer insisted.
She handed it over finally, and he strode into the apartment as if he owned the place.
She watched him, wanting nothing more than to kill him right where he stood. But she had to stay calm, stay collected. The lives of her husband and son depended on it.
Victor stood next to Layla as the Cazador soldiers lumbered inside. The one with the helmet took it off and held it under his arm. He walked over to Victor.
“Tu . . . amigo de Ton,” he said.
Charmer turned around. “Not now, Jamal,” he said.
Jamal stepped up to Victor, looking him in the eye.
Layla felt a chill up her back. This was the man who had ambushed her husband and killed Ton.
Victor must have known it, too, judging by his clenched jaw and tense muscles.
“Sergeant,” Charmer said.
Jamal glared at Victor another moment before backing away. The two Cazadores followed Charmer around the apartment, going not so gently through her things. Jamal opened a trunk and dumped the contents, including her old Hell Diver suit.
“Hey,” she said.
Jamal glared at her for a long, uncomfortable moment. Then he slammed the trunk shut with a thud.
Crying came from the bedroom.
Charmer returned from the kitchen, shaking his head. “I told you to be quiet.”
His tone and his face told Layla he didn’t give a shit. He walked over to the door. Layla hurried over and blocked the way.
“Don’t touch them,” she said.
“We have to search this room,” Charmer said.
“You hurt them, and I will kill you. Depend on it, you little worm.”
“Don’t worry, I’m not your husband. I don’t hurt—”
Layla slapped Charmer in his face so hard he had to take a step back. Jamal and the other guard drew their swords as Victor surged forward—and found a cutlass blade at his throat.
“Halt,” Charmer said. He reached up and wiped blood from his lip. “Not very nice of you, Mrs. Everhart. You do that again, and your son will be visiting his parents in jail,” he snarled. “Now, get out of my way.”
She looked at Victor, who still had a blade at his neck. There was rage in his gaze. He was ready to fight. Not yet. Soon . . .
She took her time stepping aside, letting Charmer walk around her. Sobbing came from the nursery room.
Layla went over to the cribs and picked up both children, holding one in each arm. The guard outside still held a blade to Victor.
Jamal and Charmer began their search of the room. Bray sniffled, but he had stopped crying and watched the two men curiously as they tore through the closet.
Charmer pulled out a bag that Michael had stored in case they ever needed to leave fast. He handed it to Jamal, who dumped the contents. The Cazador rifled through old diving equipment: ropes, carabiners, metal stakes, and a flare gun, which he handed to Charmer.
“I’m afraid I’ll need to take this,” Charmer said. He shoved it in his waistband, then continued the search.
When they finally finished, Jamal walked over to look at Rhino Jr.
Charmer joined the soldier, smiling at the two babies in turn. She backed away until her spine bumped against a crib.
“Beautiful son,” he said. “It is a shame another child might be without a father, which is exactly why I have to do this.”
Layla held in a breath, her heart hammering as icy fear gripped her. She held Bray back, but Charmer turned his gaze to Rhino Jr.
Jamal reached out and yanked the boy from her arms.
“No!” she shouted.
He left the room with the child, and Charmer blocked her from following. Victor also tried to move, but the guard kept the blade at his Adam’s apple.
Bray cried out, reaching for his small friend.
“Jamal wants the child to be with his own,” Charmer said. “With his mother and father dead, it’s only right.”
“No, he needs me,” Layla said.
“He needs his people, Mrs. Everhart. Just as your son needs you.”
Charmer smiled, then backed away.
Stunned, Layla watched in horror as they left the apartment. Victor rushed over to her when the Cazador finally pulled the blade away. Layla held Bray tightly against her chest. Her mind raced, but there seemed to be only one option right now. She needed council, and the only person who could give it was Imulah. She must find a way to sneak out and see him undetected.
Bray pulled away from Layla to look at her. “Da-da, Da-da,” he murmured.
“It’s going to be okay,” she said. “We will see Da-da again.”
But was she lying to her son?
THREE
“The scouts are returning.”
The message crackled in Magnolia’s headset. She stood at the aft hatches of the cargo hold at the stern of the ship. With her night-vision optics, she searched for the River Heads public boat ramp, which the three scouts had used to access the peninsula.
Clouds of fog rolled across the ocean, obstructing the view.
She turned from the viewports to a flurry of activity that had taken over the open cargo bay. Twelve soldiers in dense Cazador armored suits had broken into fire teams Eel, Knife, and Octopus.
Some of them held spears; others loaded magazines into their battered rifles. And each team had one trooper assigned with a flamethrower connected to a rusted tank that looked as if it could blow up at any minute.
Magnolia looked over the sheet of paper listing the parts they needed for the Frog. Belts, valves, piston rings, camshaft, and the biggest and by far unwieldiest thing: an entire engine air-cooling system. Thanks to the briefing she had just gotten from the two sailors responsible for repairing the Frog, she even knew what everything was.
Soon, if the scouts had been successful, they would have a map of the area, with some idea where to find those parts on wrecked ships and boats.
She tucked the paper into the magazine carrier over her armor and joined Gran Jefe to finish refitting the APC recovered from Brisbane. Technicians were making last-minute fixes and alterations.
The new windshield was already secured. Both front tires were replaced, along with the axles. The grille guard was bent back into shape after slamming into the hulking Tasmanian devil that had killed Kade. The memory was a blur, but Magnolia could still see the monstrous beast fling him into the jungle.
Thinking of his death wouldn’t bring him back. Arlo either. She had to worry about people she could still help. And she had to get back to Panama, where she hoped Rodger would be waiting for her.
“We’re almost finished,” Edgar said, walking over with a wrench in his hand. “Scouts back yet?”
“Will be soon,” Magnolia replied.
“You know, I should be going out there with you,” Edgar said.
“Too big a risk.”
“Without me, yeah, I agree.” Edgar tapped the wrench head against his gloved palm and looked out through the viewports at the mist. “Let’s hope the scouts found something.”
Tia and Sofia walked over. “Hope?” Tia asked. “If they don’t, we’re stranded here, right?”
“No, we’re going to make it home,” Sofia said. “I promise you that.”
“Not all of us.”
Tia lowered her head. She was grieving for Kade, who had taken care of her for many years at the machine camp and before. Magnolia felt her pain, but they were all hurting. Sofia was desperate to get home to Rhino Jr. And Magnolia was going to make sure her best friend did just that. She would search every wreck out there by herself if it meant getting back to Panama and the Vanguard Islands.
“We’ll find the parts to get out of here; trust me on that,” Magnolia said reassuringly.
A message surged over her headset.
“Prepare to intercept the scout team,” said an officer.
Magnolia went to the viewports overlooking the aft weather deck. The two guards on sentry duty aimed the two mounted machine guns at the water. The elevator on the deck lowered to the water to retrieve the three scouts.
When it came back up, only a single man stood on it. Blood was smeared across his chest.
“Only one made it back?” Edgar asked.
Magnolia didn’t answer, but Gran Jefe did. “Malvado,” he said, pointing outside.
“Evil?” Sofia asked.
“Sí, sí, muy malo,” Gran Jefe replied. He was the only diver wearing armor today and would be accompanying Magnolia on their mission, assuming the scout had returned with useful intel.
A pair of soldiers went out to the weather deck and returned with the man a few minutes later. By the time they were inside, King Xavier and General Forge had gathered with the fire teams.
X walked over to the scout, scratching his beard as he examined the man. “What the hell happened out there?” he asked.
“Mon . . . struos,” was all the soldier said.
With shaky hand, he reached into a vest stretched over his bloodstained armor. He pulled out a piece of paper that must be a map of the area. Magnolia was close enough to see the boats identified there.
“What kind of monsters?” X asked.
The scout spoke in Spanish about “perros grandes” to General Forge, who translated what X already suspected.
“They encountered some dogs,” Forge said. “Big dogs.”
X paused a moment, then ordered the map duplicated for the three teams. “We lost two good men for that intel,” he said to them all. “Let’s put it to good use.”
Magnolia knew that the odds of finding all the needed parts were slim, but the scouts had identified the most promising boats that might have them.
“It’s going to be hell out there,” Edgar said. “I really should be going. You know it, Commander.”
“Not this time, Edgar,” Magnolia replied.
He frowned and then looked to Gran Jefe. “Be careful and watch each other’s backs.”
Magnolia felt it was really Edgar telling Gran Jefe to watch her back. Everyone knew she was worried about Rodger.
Her heart thumped at the thought of him being gone. She tried not to think that way, but now she wondered if Captain Rolo had somehow attacked the outpost, too, as he had the supercarrier Immortal.
Was he really that deranged?
Of course he was. The bastard wanted to destroy the Vanguard military.
She still had no idea what had happened to Timothy, or Eevi, or anyone else on the airship. But she agreed with X: Rolo had probably murdered them all.
