I shiver.
No more of that.
Vera snorts, “I can’t wait to get out of this Godforsaken place.”
“We’re almost there,” I whisper. “Almost.”
We can’t be more than three miles away from the prison, and that knowledge makes my hair stand on end. Once we actually reach the prison, we have to do a quick recon, find a point of entry, infiltrate it, find Chris, get out and survive — all in the timespan of one day. It’s a daunting task, but come hell or high water, I’m here to save Chris.
And I will not fail.
Chapter Ten
The Holding Center.
It looks exactly like the picture Alexander showed us. It sits on the corner of a boulevard in downtown Los Angeles. It’s a basic jail structure, but an Omega symbol is now painted above the doorway, and the street rumbles with activity. Omega trucks are parked outside. Patrols make their rounds through the area.
A small aircraft base is stationed a block away from the Holding Center. It’s an open area of asphalt and cement. The three warehouses in the back were previously marked with a storage company’s insignia. It has now been replaced with an Omega symbol. Omega has cleared the entire area to make a runway and landing strip. I can clearly see two black helicopters from here.
We are crouched on top of a five-story building two blocks away, studying the layout. Alexander is on my right, Andrew is on my left. Uriah, Derek and Vera are silent as we scope out our surroundings. The techies — three people, including Andrew — review the coordinates and blueprints of the building for the hundredth time.
“Distraction, not destruction,” Manny says in a low voice. “That’s the name of this game.”
“It might turn into destruction if we screw up,” Vera replies.
“We won’t,” I say with confidence that I don’t feel.
My heart is beating wildly in my chest. Chris is inside the building just two blocks away! He’s so close…yet so far. I take a deep, steadying, calming breath and close my eyes. The fact that we have made it this far without dying is a testament to the fact that A) we’re a highly skilled militia rescue unit or B) we’re just lucky.
“So,” Vera says. She looks at me. “The plan, Commander?”
A faint breeze rustles my hair. I shove my bangs out of my eyes as silence falls over the group.
You know the plan, make it work, Chris’s voice whispers.
“Okay,” I say. “Here we are. We’re alive and we’re still very capable of kicking Omega’s butt. We’ll have to use a little finesse, though. Distraction, not destruction, like Manny says.” I stare at the Holding Center. “Thanks to Alexander, we know where the patrols are and around how many guards will be inside. Our advantage is that we’re small, fast, and know how to hit hard. If we create enough confusion, Omega won’t know what hit them. Our disadvantage is that we don’t know where Commander Young will be. He could be anywhere in the building, with any of the POWs. Finding him will be time consuming, and that’s where the element of distraction comes in handy.”
“A few of you will keep the guards busy at the front of the building,” I continue. “While the rest of us will infiltrate the building from the rear entrance. It’s the easiest place to penetrate.”
“I love being the distraction,” Derek comments, smiling dryly.
“Yeah, you do,” Andrew replies, smiling a little. “You’re going to use every trick up your sleeve to keep them at the front of the building. We may not know exactly where Chris is, but we do know that the prisoners are in the back of the building, in the cells. That means we need to keep the guards away from that area.”
“I’m planning on it,” Derek mutters. “Where will you be, Andrew?”
“With me,” I say.
“Alexander?”
“He’ll be with me, too,” I tell him. “Alexander knows the layout of the building best.” I pause. “Derek and his team will meet up with us at a rendezvous point once they’re done with their part of the mission. There will be too much chaos to try to hook up in the middle of the fight.”
The cold heat of adrenaline burns my gut. An all-too familiar feeling.
Will I ever get used to this sort of thing?
“I’d guess we have about twenty minutes,” I say. This is something that we already know, but I don’t want anybody to forget that we’re on a tight schedule. There is no room for mistakes. Not here.
“We can keep them busy and distracted for a long time,” Derek replies, looking at me, “but that’s only as long as they don’t bring in backup.”
“Which is why we’ll only have about twenty minutes,” I say. “If we can keep this isolated, we’ll be good to go.”
Despite the adrenaline rushing through my body, I feel steady — calm, almost. A controlled, directed anger. It’s a brand new feeling. And I like it.
“And if we can’t find Chris in twenty minutes?” Uriah asks.
It’s the unspoken question, and now it hangs heavy in the air.
“Then we’ll free who we can and get out,” I reply firmly. “And we’ll think of another way.”
In my heart, I know that if we fail, there won’t be another way. Omega will expect a second rescue attempt, and they will be waiting for us to try something. Harry Lydell would kill Chris. It would mean game over.
This is something that everyone knows, but nobody wants to say it.
There’s no reason to.
“We’ll wait until it gets dark,” I continue. “Remember, in and out. Make it quick. Improvise, adapt and overcome. I don’t want any friendly casualties. Understood?”
“Understood,” Uriah echoes.
“Good.”
I look around at the many faces watching me. All of them, good men and women — even the ones I don’t necessarily get along with on a personal level. They’re risking their lives for Chris — and for our cause.
“Vera,” I say. “I want you with me.”
She doesn’t reply. She simply nods, her expression a perfect poker face.
Life is short. It’s even shorter when you’re a soldier. Do the right thing, because tomorrow, you might not get the chance.
The alley behind the Holding Center is big enough for prisoner transport trucks and buses. Steam rises off the damp, rocky asphalt. An Omega transport truck is parked near the rear entrance — a rollup metal door, ten feet tall. It’s secure, so prisoners can’t merely jump out of the truck once the door opens and run away. The sound of muffled voices and shouted orders echo off the walls of the buildings.
We wait. More than anything, I want to jump up, force my way inside the building and get this over with. But doing that would be suicidal. If we don’t stick to the plan, we’ll all die — and that would suck. Big time.
“How much longer?” Vera hisses.
“It’s getting dark. Be patient,” I reply.
Manny is picking at his shirtsleeve, preoccupied with a loose thread on the cuff. He looks relaxed, as always. I envy his ability to shut the stress out. The ability to simply be.
“You know,” Manny whispers, “if we get away with this, it may be the first time Los Angeles has ever had a successful downtown jailbreak.”
“So we’re making history,” Uriah says.
“Glorious history.” Manny grins. “The best kind, of course.”
In the stagnant white noise of the back alley — the hum of the Holding Center’s generator, the echo of Omega voices — a detonation interrupts the rhythm of sound. The ground shakes a little. It’s so familiar that I hardly blink.