Read Cloud Invasion Online

Authors: Connie Suttle

Cloud Invasion (21 page)

We were more than familiar with the videos splashed across the Internet-none of which Corinne could watch-where soldiers, civilians and volunteers were beheaded with regularity.

We were back to the rogues there, and their funding, which had to come from somewhere.

We were back to stolen crowns and who knew what else.

"I think we should get dressed and go tell Auggie in person."

"Then come," I held out my hand and pulled her off the bed.

* * *

Corinne

I warned Auggie that we were on the way-I knew he was in his office early. James was there, too, and he locked the door behind him the moment Rafe and I appeared.

"They moved some of the creatures last night," I began. "They're on their way to Iraq to join the insurgency."

I'd never seen anger overcome Colonel August Hunter so swiftly. He had Matt Michaels on the phone almost as fast, and Matt was on his way in less than five minutes.

"James, bring coffee and anything else you can find," Auggie snapped. "They haven't had breakfast, yet."

Rafe and I heard other news from Matt after he arrived and accepted a cup of coffee from James. "The insurgents are either killing locals or paying them off to do whatever they want and take whatever they want," Matt said. "It's leaking into surrounding countries, too, as you might imagine."

"Because they have unlimited funding," Rafe nodded.

"That makes sense, and we know now who's behind this, I think. My question is why?" Auggie growled. "That part of it makes no sense at all."

"We have to figure this out," Matt said. "Before we find ourselves in a situation we can't handle."

"If those creatures are seen in Iraq, Auggie, they'll try to charge you with treason."

"Because we're the only ones they can tie this to," Matt stood to pace. "This is untenable."

I was beginning to realize that Matt was included in this attack, and he'd recognized it before I did. In fact, Auggie was just a steppingstone to get to Matt Michaels. Both were targets, just as the Program had been, but Matt was important in ways that even I couldn't explain.

"Corinne?" Auggie lifted his head, turning dark eyes on me. I understood what he was asking.

"You know they'll realize I'm still alive if I do that," I began.

"I think we can deal with that," Matt sighed.

"No," I said. "You'll be signing death warrants if you do that." He was thinking of placing agents in likely spots, all of them looking like me. They'd be easy targets.

"You think we can't handle weapons and give them backup?" Matt asked, his forehead creasing with worry. He knew, just as I did, that this would place valuable lives in danger.

"It'll make them think we have clones of you," Auggie breathed. "That's genius."

"Feel free to clone me," Rafe said. "Seemingly, anyway."

"That might work; they know you're together-or were," Matt agreed.

"I can't believe you're serious about this," I said. "They'll come out, guns blazing."

"Maybe that's what we need-a direct confrontation," Auggie sighed. "We can have people in place ahead of time, watching for any activity. We already have surveillance on Askins and his buddies."

"You know the bodies will pile up," I warned.

"Corinne," Auggie said. "Destroy those creatures in Iraq. That's a command."

* * *

"Where have you been?" Maye demanded when Ilya and I arrived in the compound kitchen two hours later.

"Starting World War Three," I said.

Chapter 14

Merle Askins' Office

"What the hell are you saying-they're all dead?"

"Including the ones at the Seattle facility."

"Holy fucking hell," Askins snapped. "She's alive. This is impossible. Have you notified?"

"Hell yes," came through his cell phone. "You're not dealing with a moron, here. I've notified everybody involved."

"I'll start the hunt immediately."

"I think that's prudent."

Merle Askins shrieked when the creature's body landed in his office, breaking furniture with a resounding crack and scraping artwork from the walls while glass shards tinkled to the floor. All this occurred while the huge, scaly body pinned him against a window that threatened to break. Dropping the cell phone from numb fingers, Askins realized the dark-scaled creature was quite wet as well as very dead.

She'd killed their prize in its pool and then dumped it in his office. He screamed for his assistant before realizing that nobody could get in or out-the creature filled every bit of space in the room.

* * *

Notes-Colonel Hunter

Madam President was late returning from a meeting-Matt and I sat in the Oval Office, expecting a tongue-lashing when we informed her that Corinne was alive.

"Gentlemen," Madam President swept in. We rose and nodded respectfully to her. "What do you have for me?" She sat behind her desk, indicating that we should sit, too.

"We have a confession to make," Matt began.

"What confession is that?"

"Well, we lied. For a good cause, you understand."

"Let's hear it." I could tell she wasn't happy with whatever meeting she'd gone to, so we were walking into a landmine.

"Corinne is alive," Matt said. "As are Rafe, Maye and Nick. Jeff is the only one who died in Ketchikan."

I didn't expect what happened. I expected a drubbing. Instead, she blinked away tears and her hand trembled as it covered her mouth.

"Please say this is true," she whispered.

"It's true. I can probably get them here if you want to see for yourself."

"No-keep them safe," she said.

"There's more," Matt admitted. "We were forced to bring Corinne out of hiding this morning, because they sent twenty creatures to Iraq, to join the insurgents."

"They're dead?"

"All of them. Including the cloning farm they set up in the Seattle facility shortly after we left it behind."

Madam President considered that information for a moment. "Will they be able to make more elsewhere?"

"We don't know. Corinne destroyed everything at the facility, so they won't be able to do it there again."

"Where is she? Never mind-I can't say what I don't know," Madam President held up a hand.

"She'll move if it's warranted," I said. "We have another plan to put in place, but we need your permission, first."

"Tell me," she said, pulling a tissue from a desk drawer and dabbing her eyes.

* * *

Corinne

"Everything inside the mountain facility is destroyed or useless, including the drug they had there," I said. Everybody was eating lunch while we had our impromptu meeting around the kitchen island.

"Anybody left alive?"

"I left a few humans alive, but all the creatures are dead."

"Which humans?"

"The ones that didn't have fogged brains," I said. "There were only five of those; they worked the computer system and didn't know what was going on above their heads."

My cell phone rang. Auggie was calling.

"Corinne, do you know anything about a creature landing in Merle Askins' office?" he barked at me.

"Uh, yeah."

"Nice work."

I savored the compliment for a moment before I spoke. "Thanks. It'll take chain saws and a small army to get it out of there."

"Even better."

"I sent information to the newspapers," I said.

"What sort of information?"

"Showing his department spending taxpayer funds for experiments, as well as photographs of those experiments. One of those photographs eerily matches what just landed in his office."

"Corinne?"

"Yes, Auggie?"

"Remind me never to piss you off again."

"Good plan."

"Thank you."

"You know this'll piss the enemy off and he'll come after us soon?" I said.

"We know. Madam President also knows. She gave Matt permission to substitute his agents for you and the others."

"We're aware of that. I can send information about the plane used to transport creatures to Iraq-ordered by Askins."

"Go ahead."

"Done."

"That fast?"

"Yeah."

* * *

Merle Askins' public shaming began that evening, on every news channel, which included images of the effort spent to remove a huge, dead creature from his office and the plan to blame everything on Secretary of Defense August Hunter.

Askins' office came back the following day, begging for sympathy because the CIA Director was dying of cancer. That and his guards kept Askins away from public scrutiny. By the third day, he'd resigned his position while waiting for the Justice Department to file charges against him.

We still had the Joint Chiefs, who were separating themselves from the fray as quickly as they could. The media attention was drawn away, however, when two airliners were shot down, one over Ukraine, the other in Spain.

We weren't involved in those investigations, but information was shared and the method turned out to be the same-tiny missiles, fired from far away, were responsible.

* * *

"They've released their findings to the media," Opal said at breakfast three days after the crashes. "I heard from Matt a few minutes ago. He says they're ready to run with it."

"Anything different about these?" I asked.

"Not so far. I think everybody's afraid to fly, now. Those flights were selected randomly-or that's the current theory."

"I'm surprised they're not targeting military flights," Ilya set a cup of coffee in front of Opal.

"Don't jinx it," Opal warned. "Right now, anybody who flies is a target."

"They don't have to target airplanes," I pointed out. "They can target anything."

"You had to make it worse, didn't you?" Opal grimaced.

"I'm not the one with the tiny rockets," I said.

"Tiny rockets," Nick sang the words to
Tiny Bubbles
as he walked into the kitchen.

"Don't start," I held up a hand. Nick laughed.

* * *

We watched the special report from the White House later that evening, as information was disseminated. It clarified what the media had reported as truth, when most of that had been wild speculation.

"This is the size of the bomb, which has some sort of guidance and propulsion system," Madam President's Press Secretary reported, holding up a rough copy of the rocket used in all the airline bombings. "We don't know where these were made or who is responsible for firing them, but we have put every airline and every military installation on notice-that anything they fly can be in danger. We've estimated the range of these things to be at least a thousand miles or more."

"What's to keep them from bombing ships or anything else?" A reporter in the crowd asked.

"We don't know whether anything is preventing that. There's a theory that they're letting us know how well these things work-after all, it's much more difficult to hit a moving target."

"How hard do you think it is to create these things? Are you willing to release the specs?" Another journalist asked.

"No idea," he said. "We don't have technology to match what little we've found, and we will not release any information-you'll have to wait until it's declassified."

That resulted in general grumbling.

"Is there any discernable pattern to the bombings?" A third journalist asked.

"We don't have any theories yet-so far, it seems random. It appears they want to make an enemy of everyone."

"Bingo," I said, pointing my finger at the Press Secretary.

"Huh?" Maye turned to me.

"I think that's what they're after-they want to be everybody's enemy," I said. "For whatever reason."

"They haven't hit the same country twice," Nick agreed.

"Perhaps we should alert Colonel Hunter to that fact," Richard said.

"I'll make the call," Nick held up his cell and walked out of the media room.

* * *

Notes-Colonel Hunter

"They may target the countries they haven't hit, yet," Nick said. "So far, the same country hasn't been hit twice."

"True-we can put them on alert without sharing that information with the media," I agreed.

"Colonel Hunter, do you think we should move? Maye and I are concerned for the safety of all involved."

"I've thought the same thing," I said. "We have a plan to plant decoys, but if the enemy locates the real thing, all that planning will be a waste and we'll be in trouble."

"That's my thinking," Nick agreed.

"Any suggestions?" I asked.

"I may know a place. Opal is in agreement."

"Then run it past Corinne and get back with me."

"Yes, sir."

* * *

Corinne

"We think we should move." I was reading on the patio when Opal and Nick approached me.

"I was thinking about that. Sort of. What do you have in mind?" I studied both of them, realizing quickly they'd come to the same conclusion.

"I know people who have a vacation home on the Gulf Coast of Texas," Opal said. "I can borrow it with their permission and no questions asked."

"With a water view?"

"The best they have to offer."

"Sounds fine," I shrugged. "When?"

"Tonight?"

"Is it big enough for all of us?"

"With room left over."

Opal has a nice smile, when she chooses to offer one.

"One place is just as good as another," I agreed. We were coming to the part where we'd be in danger, no matter where we were. If moving made them feel more comfortable, then we'd move.

"You tell Rafe, we'll tell the others," Nick grinned.

"Leave me with the hard job, huh?"

"Goes without saying."

"What goes without saying?" Ilya walked in. He hadn't bothered to sound like Rafe around the others in days. He felt comfortable being himself, I think.

"That you're the hard sell," I said. "We're moving. To the Gulf Coast. It'll make them feel better," I nodded to Nick and Opal.

"What about you?" He sat down beside me, his dark eyes wandering my face, attempting to read my preferences.

"It doesn't matter where we are," I said. "Plus, we've probably been here long enough."

"Then we'll move," Ilya slapped his knee as if that were the last word on the matter.

"You don't have to pack anything-I can take it with us. How's the kitchen where we're going?" I asked Opal.

"Everything you'd want and more."

"Outstanding."

* * *

"You have rich friends," I said the moment we landed in the huge beach house. With three levels and more than six thousand square feet, it had to cost in the millions.

"I call dibs on the first-floor bedroom," Nick said. I wasn't surprised; it was next to the state-of-the-art workout room.

Richard, Maye and Nathan took the suites on the second floor, leaving the top floor master suite to Ilya and me.

A half-moon hung low over the water as I walked onto the large deck behind the house. Darkness had fallen earlier, but moonlight glittered on the waters of the gulf behind the massive house.

"This is nice," Ilya breathed against my neck as he leaned in to place a warm kiss. "I haven't seen you use the sunlamps much lately. Are you all right?" He pulled away, concern in his eyes.

"I've developed a way around that," I said. "I can't explain it-it's sort of complicated."

"As long as you are all right," he said and tilted my chin. His mouth met mine in a demanding kiss.

"I'm fine," I said, after he broke the lingering connection.

"If we were alone, I'd make a bed here in the moonlight and we would make love," he said.

"That sounds nice," I breathed. "Really nice."

"Will you take us to bed?" he breathed against my mouth.

He didn't have to ask twice.

* * *

French and German airliners were shot down the following day. Somehow, I felt the enemy was rushing his plans after he learned I was still alive. That's why I took Ilya with me when I paid Merle Askins a visit in D.C.

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