Nicholas Smith - Extinction Age

Beckham’s hand stopped on his scalp and he narrowed his eyes. “You’re certain?”

“Yes.”

Beckham cursed. “Jensen told me Wood can’t be trusted, but if the man has ties to Building 8…”

“What do we do?”

“I’d try to get a message through to General Kennor, but chances are he already knows.”

“I told Ellis the same thing.”

Beckham shook his head. “Your weapon won’t affect humans, right?”

“It shouldn’t have many side effects. Why?”

“One of the most important things I’ve learned in my career is knowing when to strike. Now is not that time. I say we wait. We complete Operation Extinction, deploy your weapon, and destroy the Variants. Then we can deal with Wood and Kennor.”

Kate took a seat on the bed and took a few minutes to think. He was right—now wasn’t the time to pursue what many would consider a conspiracy theory. Even if they could, Wood and Kennor had a damn army to protect them. Who would believe Kate? Even if she could convince people Wood was involved in the VX-99 project, what good would it do to bring that out now?

What mattered right now was saving humanity. They could deal with the men who had helped destroy it later.

Forcing a smile, she patted the bed. Apollo brushed up against her leg, and she reached down to stroke his fur coat.

“I was gesturing for Reed, not you,” Kate chuckled.

Beckham plopped down next to her and said, “What do you think, boy?”

Kate placed her hand on Beckham’s thigh and leaned in to whisper in his ear, “Apollo thinks it’s time to go in the hall so we can have some privacy.”

Beckham snapped his fingers and led the dog to the door. Lying back on the bed, Kate closed her eyes, a sudden moment of fear passing over her. At first she wasn’t sure what had sparked it, but when Beckham hurried back over to her, she realized it was the same fear she’d had before every one of his missions—the fear that this would be their last night together.

A crimson bubble with veins of purple crested the horizon as the sun rose over the water. Beckham and his fire-team fought the cool morning wind that whipped across the island. They left the armory equipped with enough firepower to take on an army of Variants.

Horn carried an M249 light machine gun. Chow and Beckham had both picked up M4s. Their vests were stuffed with as many magazines as they could carry. Lombardi had opted for an S&W AS 12-gauge select-fire shotgun. An unusual choice, but it would certainly stop any Variants they encountered at Raven Rock.

The short walk from the armory to the tarmac provided Beckham with enough time to get a read on his men. Despite the fact he was leaving his girls, Horn’s freckled face showed no sign of apprehension. He smoked a cigarette as he walked, the massive gun slung casually across his back.

Chow wore a hardened look that told Beckham he was still harboring anger inside for Jinx’s death. He’d suppressed it on the Truxtun , but Beckham was worried Chow couldn’t hold it in forever.

Beckham looked at Lombardi next and said, “Have you faced the Variants in the field?”

“Does dealing with them here on the island count?”

Horn laughed. “Nope.”

Lombardi nervously scratched his beak of a nose. Beckham made a note to keep him off point when they reached the objective. Dealing with Variants chained to the ground in holding cells was much different than out in the wild.

Ahead, civilians and soldiers were gathering at the concrete barriers on the edge of the tarmac. The sight of Kate, Meg, Riley, Fitz, and Horn’s girls sent a chill through Beckham, a combination of pride and fear. There were other familiar faces that stuck out in the crowd. Red and Donna stood there with Bo. The boy caught Beckham’s gaze and raised a small hand into the air.

Beckham walked over to them and slung his rifle over his shoulder. “How are you guys doing?”

“Can’t complain,” Red replied. “Got a warm bed and enough food. We have you to thank for that.”

Donna smiled and pulled Bo closer to her. “Did you want to tell Master Sergeant Beckham something?”

Bo tucked his head against her stomach and then twisted his face slightly so that one eye was on Beckham. He grinned and said, “Thank you, Mr. Master Sergeant.”

“Welcome, kid,” Beckham said. He exchanged a nod with Red and continued toward Kate and the others.

Tasha and Jenny rushed over to Horn. Jenny wrapped her arms around his right leg and said, “Don’t go, Daddy!”

Beckham’s heart melted at the sight. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of him.”

“Promise,” Tasha said.

“Promise.” Beckham gave her a hug and then walked over to the group of Fitz, Riley, and Meg, saving Kate for last.

“Fitz, Kid. You guys look after everyone while were gone, okay?”

“Will do, Boss,” Riley said.

Fitz nodded. “Wish I was coming.”

“So do I,” Riley said, his eyes downcast.

Beckham considered his next words carefully. “Protecting these people is just as important,” he said. “If the Variants attack the island again, we need both of you to hold them off.”

“Don’t forget about me,” Meg said. She stroked the handle of a knife tucked into her waistband and winked at Beckham.

“That’s not the same one I loaned you in New York is it?”

“Nope. Riley gave it to me,” Meg said.

A shit-eating grin streaked across Riley’s face, and Beckham couldn’t hold back a chuckle. The kid had always loved women, and he’d made it no secret that he was attracted to Meg. From what little he knew about her, giving her a knife was better than a bouquet of flowers.

The sad whine of a dog sounded over the chatter from the crowd. Apollo sat at Kate’s feet. Like Fitz and Riley, the dog would protect her to the end. Beckham continued over to them and locked eyes with Kate.

“Try not to worry,” he said.

She folded her arms across her chest and frowned. “You know that’s not going to happen.”

“I’m coming home,” Beckham said. “I promise you.” He planted a delicate kiss on her lips and then gave Apollo a quick rub on the head.

“Be careful,” Kate said.

Beckham nodded and kissed her again. The blades of the Blackhawks were already chopping through the air in the distance, and he forced himself to pull away.

“Let’s go,” Beckham said. He began to lead his team to the birds but had to stop when Apollo darted after them.

“You have to stay here, boy,” Beckham said.

Apollo whined and sat down, his tail thumping forlornly. Beckham waved his men on, and they continued across the tarmac toward Jensen and Smith.

“Good luck,” Jensen said. He reached out to shake Beckham’s hand and added, “You know I’d come with if I could.”

“I know, sir.”

Jensen’s lips spread into a small grin beneath his mustache. “If you find any chew in the warehouse, snag a few cans.”

“Will do, sir,” Beckham said. He rushed over to the chopper in a low hunch and climbed inside. Horn and Chow followed, flanking him on both sides in the doorway. The crowd watched from the edge of the tarmac as the pilots performed their final checks.

Wood was already back at Central Command, leaving his men to watch the island while Beckham and the rest of the teams went on the mission. Beckham could just imagine Wood toadying up to Kennor, both of them hiding out in the bunker at Offutt. Another image emerged in his mind, and he saw a younger Colonel Wood standing side by side with Colonel Gibson outside Lieutenant Brett’s cell. He didn’t know the details, but he felt in his gut that Wood had been involved in creating the monsters they now faced. They’d made hell on earth, but it was Beckham and his men who had to deal with it.