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what we have to say.”

He gestured to the bunker behind them.

“And let me tell you, if you think I’m a problem, you’ll want to see what we have in the hole back there.”

<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>

Asle watched as Summers tried to reassure the medics that were tending to him outside the bunker. She didn’t like that. He was hurt, and they were supposed to be his allies. They should be helping him. She understood that they were afraid, that was normal, but it didn’t change how she felt.

Most of the other soldiers stood beside the cadre of Jeeps. They wore strange clothing that covered them from head to toe. Some were going over Pat and the twins, asking them a slew of questions.

Curiously, they all looked exhausted. Some were injured, their arms in slings; one man was missing a hand entirely.

Asle knew warriors. She knew the dangers they were expected to face. These people had come here expecting a fight, and they’d brought their injured. To Asle, that could only mean one thing.

They were desperate. And that didn’t bode well at all.

“Wiped out . . . ?”

Asle turned to see the now concerned-looking woman Summers had called the “Colonel” pacing in front of Nowak. She was, by Asle’s estimation, very much on the brink of panic.

“I’m sorry, ma’am. From my best estimation, we’re all that’s left. Like I said, our assignment with Rhodes was . . . unique.” Nowak looked at the woman, clearly uneasy. She’d heard him explaining their situation for the past few minutes, and the conversation wasn’t going well.

“Your assignment’s the last thing on my mind right now, Sergeant. You were in Alaska, then. What about the gate?”

“The . . .” Nowak looked at the woman with a bit of confusion.

“The gate. The machine that made the portal.”

“It’s . . . it was destroyed, ma’am. It’s probably still back at the base.”

“Goddamn it . . .” The woman rubbed at tired eyes.

Asle watched as her gaze drifted over to Summers for a moment.

The medics were working on him properly now. Her teacher had done everything she could, but neither she nor Nowak were true healers. The men ran a small device over his back. Every few minutes, she’d hear the sound of metal clattering to the ground. More often than not the “scalpels” the men used were broken on Summers’ odd gray skin.

“I’d hoped you’d have some good news for us, Sergeant.” Rivers ran a hand through her hair.

“I’m . . . sorry, ma’am. I’m not sure what . . .”

The colonel watched Nowak, considering.

“Not like these creatures don’t know. . . . Sergeant, we’ve been cut off from base for about a month now. Some of us were holding out hope that the portable unit would be able to take us back home.”

“Cut off?” Nowak’s eyes widened. “You mean to tell me we’re still stuck here?”

“Welcome to my world, Sergeant. Now, I can fill you in on the details later . . .” She eyed the half-destroyed bunker.

She was doing that a lot. Since Nowak had explained that the “leader” of their attackers was trapped inside, the entire group seemed to be on edge.

Now, a handful of soldiers were outside, arguing. Asle noticed they were giving Summers a wide berth.

“Your man”—the colonel indicated Summers—“you said he’s stable.”

“Ma’am, he’s himself. I know you’ve probably been dealing with . . .” Nowak glanced at the field of dead that surrounded them. “Some difficulties, but I’d trust him with my life, and I think he might have some insight to make sure none of this happens again.”

“Insight . . . ?”

“A fix, or close to one.”

That definitely got the colonel’s attention.

“That’s—”

“It’s him, Colonel!” A shout from the soldier Asle thought was Jacobs interrupted the conversation. “Confirmed ID, ma’am. It’s Wendel.”

Rivers perked up at the declaration, heading toward the group.

“Is he alive?”

“Mostly,” Jacobs answered, still looking back at the bunker.

Rivers thought for a long moment before answering.

“Sedate him and the aberration.” She nodded to the medics at Summers’ side. “We need to get back to the base. We’ll treat your people there.”

She watched as the medics nodded, pulling a bag of some kind of chemical out from a pouch. Summers wasn’t doing anything. He was going to let them put him to sleep.

He was an idiot.

Asle moved to the colonel, standing in front of her.

“You can’t do that.”

Rivers looked down at Asle, confused for a moment.

“Wait, I recognize you,” the colonel said with sudden realization. “You’re General Hawkin’s kid, aren’t you?”

Asle nodded in response. She only vaguely recalled the general’s name, but he was the man who had taken charge of her all those months ago.

The colonel watched Asle a moment before kneeling down to her eye level.

“How in the . . . never mind. I understand you’re worried about your friend, but this is a temporary—” The colonel started to say something, but it didn’t sound like agreement, so Asle interrupted her.

“No. We captured him. We have information you want. If we are your allies, we should be treated as allies. If we aren’t . . .”

That earned Asle a hard glare.

“And why is this important to you?”

“Because I don’t trust you,” Asle said flatly. “I do not want him to be asleep.”

The woman sighed before turning to Nowak.

“Sergeant . . .”

“Ma’am, I’m sorry, but I agree with our, uh . . . translator.” He gave Asle a small nod. “Summers was the one who took that thing in there down. He is by and large one of the main reasons we survived that last engagement. If something goes wrong, I want him awake.”

The colonel considered that, watching as Summers was helped to his feet by

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