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Before Petr could carry out that last deadly deed, Vladimir took his rifle and swung it with everything he had at the man’s face, knocking him out cold. Before the others could stop him, he stood up and held his hands over his head. “There is a child here. We are unarmed.”

This is unacceptable! You know what will happen to us.

“Shut up, Ladm,” growled Vladimir aloud.

“Drop your weapons and come down off the ledge. Keep your hands over your head,” the voice below said. “We can track all of you so don’t even think about trying anything.”

Vladimir grabbed the unconscious man’s feet. “Ohr, help me pick up Petr.” The Korean grabbed the colonel’s arms, and together, they carried him down the ledge.

As soon as they reached ground level, they were surrounded by eight uniformed men. There were nine bodies on the ground. Vladimir grunted in satisfaction. At least they had put up a good fight. Still, only the end result was important. In this case, the result was defeat. Vladimir slumped his shoulders as all five of them were handcuffed and forced to kneel down. Even Alex. Seeing her like this brought tears to his eyes. How had it come to this?

“Agent Kallis, we have the group of aliens rounded up,” the lead agent spoke into a small black box attached at his shoulder. “Bagging and tagging now.”

“Good,” a voice crackled back.

“We have a new signature,” one of the federals standing near the back barked. “Just appeared out of the blue. Behind that tree.” The team of federals standing out in the open scrambled for cover, leaving Vladimir and his people kneeling on the ground.

“How many?” the man with the bullhorn said.

“Just one. Stationary.”

Six of the federals spread out facing the giant redwood on the western edge of the clearing. Two remained behind to guard their prisoners.

“Come out with your hands up,” the leader yelled through his bullhorn. “You are outnumbered and we have the rest of your kind held captive. No one has to get hurt.”

Two soft pings came from the east and the two men guarding Vladimir’s group dropped. Then three more pings, and two federals on the outer edge of the clearing fell. The remaining federals, now believing themselves flanked, dove for cover.

“How many signatures,” the leader yelled.

“Still one!”

“Damn it, they must have ghosts with them.”

Another ping, this time from the west. The federal with the scanner fell.

“Drop your weapons,” a voice called out from the forest, “and the rest of you can live.”

The surviving four federals swiveled in all directions, trying to determine where the shots were coming from. Finally, one of them dropped his gun and held his hands up. Two others, after a second, followed suit. All eyes were on the remaining armed federal, the one with the bullhorn, as he considered his options. There was a soft ping from the forest and the dirt between his feet kicked up. He finally followed suit and dropped his rifle.

“Always a guy in the bunch a little slower than the others, almost ruining it for everyone else,” a figure said, stepping out of the woods. He was dressed in camouflage and a hoodie, and carried a small assault rifle. He walked into the clearing, gun still trained on the four remaining federals.

Vladimir studied their savior. The man didn’t look or sound familiar, at least not by the descriptions from their contact’s dossier, considering their contact was supposed to be a woman. Most of his face was covered with a pair of dark brown aviator sunglasses and a scraggly beard, and the rest of his head was hidden by a skullcap.

“On your knees, folks.” He squinted at the leader who had carried the bullhorn, who squinted back. “You know me, Boy Scout?” he said finally.

The now de-bullhorned agent scowled. “Yeah, you’re a ghost.”

“Not just a ghost. The Ghost.” The man grabbed the comm from the agent’s shoulder and lifted it to his mouth. “Hello. Who do I have the pleasure of speaking with?”

“Special Agent Kallis of the Interpol Extraterrestrial Task Force. Who the fuck is this?” the voice snapped.

“It’s your favorite human traitor.”

“Rayban Ghost? You bastard. What have you done with my men?”

“They’re fine. How are you? How is the family?”

“Well, you shot my guys, so pretty damn terrible right now. And how many times do I have to tell you to never bring up my family?”

“Well, I used the electric tranqs on the guys I hit. They should be fine. You still got some live ones here, and they’ll stay that way if you follow my demands. There’s six North Korean Nationals at Guantanamo I need released within the hour. I also need fifty million dollars wired to a Swiss account.”

“You know I can’t do that.”

“Okay, how about we compromise and you just donate four thousand bucks, a thousand for each of your surviving men, to the Eureka Animal Shelter. Then we’ll call it square.” He looked over at the kneeling federals. “Maybe one-point-five for that big guy over there.”

“You better watch your back, Rayban Ghost. I’ll get you one day.”

“And my little dog too?” the Ghost grinned, clearly enjoying this exchange. “Like you said, no one else has to get hurt.” The Ghost turned to the men in front of him. “Face down with your hands behind your back. You know the drill. I got half a dozen others in the forest who I had to convince to not blow your brains out and toss your bodies into vats of acid.”

A few minutes later, the federals made a neat little line of trussed-up bodies as they squirmed face down in the dirt. The Rayban Ghost took the time to tie up the unconscious ones as well. Vladimir wondered why the man was using non-lethal force. Satisfied with his work, the Ghost spoke into his own throat mic and then signaled for Vladimir and his group to stand and follow him.

“Thank you, uh, Rayban Ghost,” Vladimir said as the stranger hauled him and his group to their feet. Unfortunately, their skin did not touch through the thick layers of clothing, though by now, he was pretty sure this man wasn’t a vessel.

“Hey, what about us?” the de-bullhorned agent shouted. “You can’t leave us here. We’ll die like this! Why even bother sparing our lives then?”

“Rayban Ghost, we had a deal,” Kallis’s voice shouted over the comm.

The Ghost picked up the receiver. “You’ll get your men back. I told you before, Kallis. We’re the good guys. I’ll call a forest ranger for them later on.” Then he tore the comm unit from its cord. He turned and gestured to Vladimir’s group. “Shall we?”

The Ghost marched them fifteen minutes deeper south into the forest. When he was satisfied they were far enough away from the federals, he called for a stop and studied the group.

“Thank you, brother,” Vladimir said.

“Authenticate yourself.”

“To advance without the possibility being checked…” Vladimir began saying.

The passphrase died in his mouth when the Rayban Ghost cut him off. “Shut it, Genjix. I don’t care about that.”

Then Vladimir realized who had saved them. At this point, he wasn’t sure if they were better off being prisoners of the Interpol Extraterrestrial Task Force than with this man. At least with the IXTF, his people had a chance of being released by their people on the inside. With the Prophus, he expected nothing more than a quick death as soon as they got whatever they wanted out of him.

“I want names; you and your Quasing’s,” the Ghost said. “Full names and origins. Now.”

Both Ohr and Rin looked to Vladimir for direction. He shook his head and spoke in a clear and loud voice. “Vladimir Mengsk. Ladm. I am a businessman from Moscow, and this is…”

“I can speak for myself, Papa,” Alex said. She took a step forward and lifted her chin. “Alexandra Mengsk. My job is to be my papa’s daughter, betrayer.” She jutted her chin out at the Ghost as a challenge.