“You have an inside source?”
Hannah nodded.
“I need to speak to them. Immediately.”
“I’m sorry, but you can’t do that. He’s imbedded within the General’s inner circle. Liam was his point of contact, but Liam is in the General’s custody now.”
He paced the narrow room. His mouth pressed into a thin line. “I need to think about this.”
“There’s no time!” Perez said.
Hannah squeezed her arm. With a calmness she didn’t feel, she said, “Right now, a small band of citizens are making their last stand. They don’t expect to live through the night, but they’re fighting anyway, in the desperate hope of protecting what they love most.”
She took a breath. “American soldiers who don’t know any better are about to murder innocent civilians. While the real threat—the Syndicate—threatens us all.”
He stilled. “My orders—”
“You have your orders. You also know what’s right, and what’s wrong.”
He looked straight at her. “What do you want me to do?”
“My people are going to defend themselves. But they’re going to lose. None of us have the connections, clout, or authority to intervene. You do. If we don’t do something, there will be a bloodbath. Good people will die on both sides.”
Perez shrugged Hannah’s hand off her arm. “The Syndicate has crossed the Michigan border.”
Hamilton blanched. “What? We haven’t been informed of this!”
“That’s intentional,” Hannah said. “You can bet the General already knows.”
Hamilton signaled to the soldier waiting beside the door, who nodded and slipped from the room.
Hamilton headed after him. “I’m going to make a couple of calls on the sat phone. I need to verify a few things. If what you’ve just told me is true…” He paused in the doorway. “Stay here. I may need you to relay your intel to brass.”
Hannah nodded. Panic lodged like a stone in her throat, her nerves on edge. What if it was too little, too late? What if no one would listen?
It was the longest five minutes of her life. Neither she nor Perez spoke a word.
Several minutes later, Hamilton ducked back into the room. His expression was grim. “Governor Duffield is dead.”
Hannah gaped at him. “What does that mean?”
“I’m not sure yet, but I’m figuring it out. Poe is attacking Fall Creek. He’ll reach them in a matter of minutes, if he hasn’t already.”
Hannah’s heart caught in her throat. “We have to do something!”
His expression went steely. “I intend to.”
Hamilton turned and motioned for them to follow him as he headed back toward the door. Outside, a Humvee was running, waiting for them. “You two are coming with me. Tell me everything you know.”
65
Quinn
Day One Hundred and Fifteen
Quinn knelt in the foxhole, a low ceiling of logs and packed dirt above her head.
She balanced her AR on the tripod, the muzzle aiming through the narrow opening between the ground and overhead cover.
The smell of leaves and pine sap filled her nostrils, the damp soil black and crumbling beneath her fingers.
The foxhole was dug about four feet deep and eight feet wide, large enough for four fighters. Jonas was positioned to her left. She liked him near her. They made an excellent team.
On her right, Bishop crouched next to Robert Vinson, the pharmacist. Bishop operated one of the M60 belt-fed machine guns.
Across the street, in another foxhole, Officer Hayes manned the second one. Only the two M60s remained after the Black Hawk attack. The big .50 caliber M2 wouldn’t operate without a functioning ejector pin. Since they couldn’t order new parts, it was out of commission.
From her position, she had an unobstructed view of the avenue of approach—Old 31.
She’d driven the rural two-lane highway a million times with Gramps in the rattling Orange Julius. It felt bizarre to examine everything in her familiar, regular, boring life through the scope of a rifle.
Bizarre and terrifying.
Bishop thrust a pair of headphones at her. “Ear protection. You’ll need it.”
She shoved them over her ears. Sound went dull and fuzzy. “Thanks.”
“Stay by my side.” Bishop gave her a somber look. “Things are about to go pear-shaped, so we’ve got to stick together.”
She swallowed around the thickness in her throat. “Got it.”
Bishop nodded and turned back to scanning the road through his NVGs.