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That gave him pause. She did not ask if they were enemies of humanity but if they were Trevor Stone’s enemies, a more personal consideration. He nearly said ‘no’ but that would have merely been a nice lie. From the moment Robert Parsons decided to place New Winnabow between Trevor Stone and the cause he served, they had, in fact, become his enemies.

“Yes.”

“Then we’ll get the job done. You can count on us, Sir. Have the other arrangements been made?”

“Yes,” Trevor told her. “You may hear some chatter from local commanders between now and morning. Ignore it. They’ll have their answers soon enough.”

She understood.

Nina saluted, turned around, and returned to her side of the road.

“Nina,” he surprised her by speaking her first name. “Good luck.”

A few moments later, the Blackhawk and the Eagle lifted from the ground and went their separate ways.

25. Midnight

Trevor sat back in his chair and gazed at the maps and written orders and statistics scattered across the top of his huge desk. All the trappings of an Emperor. His power measured in letters and numbers.

Outside the balcony doors, the sky remained pitch black although dawn would soon rise.

Inside his office on the second floor of the mansion, the only light came from the desk lamp, the glow of which cast over the gray mustache and hair of General Jerry Shepherd as he stood before his Emperor.

“Trevor, did you hear what I said?”

He answered in a mumble, “Yes, I heard you. I understand completely.”

Among the papers and maps on Trevor’s desk sat the most recent intelligence report. The Hivvans inside the pocket now received massive resupply through Conway. With these supplies and improving communications, that alien army would certainly strike at Raleigh in a few days.

Shepherd repeated, “If Parsons lets us through today, we can still complete the mission in time. Otherwise we have to pull back now so we don’t get our asses handed to us. I flew all the way up here because I have to have an answer, one way or the other.”

Trevor did not answer. He looked at the papers, he looked at the glowing lamp, he looked at the place on the floor where the half-brother he had not known existed died a few days ago.

For every Sir Lancelot in your blood, there’s a Genghis Kahn.

A soft rap on the door drew both men’s attention. Dante Jones walked into the glow of the desk lamp.

“I heard you were in town,” Jones said to Shepherd. “Then I saw the light.”

“Good, you should be here,” Trevor said and he stood up from his chair.

Jones’ eyes narrowed. He looked to Trevor to Shepherd, then back to Trevor again.

“Wait a second. Trevor, you can’t be considering blasting through New Winnabow. Are you? You can’t do that.”

Shepherd said nothing. Trevor asked, “Why’s that, Dante?”

“No…no,” the idea horrified him. He ran a hand over his forehead as if the temperature in the room suddenly rose to sauna levels. “I’ve been there. I’ve seen them. They’re people. They are human, like us. There has to be another way. We can find an alternate route. Maybe negotiate with them.”

Trevor’s voice remained calm as he replied, “We’re out of time, Dante.”

“Trevor, I know you. I knew you back when you were Richard. The man I’ve known all my life can’t murder innocent civilians. Not for any reason. You have to find another way.”

“The Dark Wolves are already in the air.”

Again Dante alternated his eyes between the silent General Shepherd and Trevor.

“What? Wait. Look, Trevor, Nina can’t take that town by herself. You need an army to do that. Trev, don’t do this.”

“It’s already done.”

Dante paced out of the glow of the light and then back in. He held his hands up as if trying to grab an idea that eluded him. He gasped in frustration, but then his eyes widened and he asked Shepherd, “Have you received marching orders?”

Shepherd’s answer came in the slow shake of his head ‘no’.

Dante looked to Trevor again and said, “There’s time. Shep’s army is still camped at Spring Hill. You can recall the Wolves. Stop this!”

Trevor gazed vacantly at something the other men could not see and told them, “I have more than one army…”

…The wind roared in Nina’s ear as she and her human team members dropped out of the night, exiting the airplane at extreme altitude and holding their chutes until the last possible moment in a tactic known as a H.A.L.O. drop. An old school insertion technique for a new type of war.

As the air buffeted her body in freefall, she felt a sense of euphoria, as if liberated. An illusion, she knew; gravity still held her in its grasp even if that grasp did not feel so strong.

Her goggles and gear wiggled and a few soft clanks and clings managed to reach her ear despite the roar of wind. Her body cut through a curtain of misty white clouds giving her the sensation of falling through a floor. On the other side, she faced a void of black stretching off in all directions, making any visual estimate of altitude impossible. She relied, instead, on the instruments strapped to her forearm.

As she and her fellow wolves descended, a few pinpricks of lights appeared below. She knew one to be a watch tower, another a gate, yet another torches outside the council chambers’ entrance.

Not much, but enough to provide guidance to their landing zone.

At the right moment- the last possible moment — the chutes deployed.

It was an abrupt end to a glorious fall that had felt more like flight. The harness straps pulled at and bruised her shoulders. Her equipment jingled and jangled from the sudden deceleration.

Unseen in the black of night, the four figures drifted to the ground far behind the check points on the road, far behind the guard posts and watch tower. One by one the Dark Wolves landed inside the stadium at the center of The Commons in the heart of New Winnabow…

…Trevor’s office door pushed open. Jorge Benjamin Stone’s tiny frame staggered in wearing powder blue pajamas adorned with smiling teddy bears. He held his stuffed rabbit-Bunny-wrapped in its tiny blanket close to his chest as he stepped into the room, stopped, and yawned a big wide yawn.

Then the little boy’s eyes grew sharp and his lips clamped together tight as he looked at each of the three men in the room one after another. His survey complete, JB walked quickly behind the desk next to his father and spoke to Dante Jones and Jerry Shepherd.

“There’s nothing left to say… you should go.”

In another time or another place, such a bold statement from a three year old child would not go unchallenged, but in that dark office at that dark time, his words were accepted because, in truth, the boy was right.

Shepherd tapped the desk top with his finger and tried to make eye contact with Trevor, but the Emperor kept focused on the desk. So he patted Dante on the shoulder before exiting the office on his way back to his division.

Dante held his eyes shut for a moment and then walked for the door. He paused before leaving.

“You know you were right. About our name; what to call us. I think I finally realized that it really does fit.”

Trevor turned and gazed out the balcony doors. The clouds in the distance started to glow in soft orange, but it was not yet sunrise…

…Oliver Maddock’s face hid behind a balaclava and he wore black BDUs to make him just another shadow in the dark as he moved through the tight alleys of The Commons.

Crickets chirping, an occasional gust of breeze causing something to rattle, the beat of his heart, these were the sounds that came to his ears. Most of the people of New Winnabow still slept, particularly in The Commons area. That would not last, however. The people here often woke at first light.

Soft drops of dew formed on the black metal of his silenced MP5 and a chill in the air turned his exhales a frosty white.

Maddock slipped across a small intersection and into another cramped side street, this one behind the main council building. He crept flush against one wooden wall of a barn-like structure until he came to a long, sliding door. A soft light slipped out from underneath.