Fireteam Delta J. Halpin (top 10 books of all time TXT) 📖

let out are still spreading . . . well, if I were on Earth, I’d cut my losses, make sure that what’s out here never gets back home.”

Much as he hated to admit it, Summers saw the logic in that.

“Right.” Summers repressed a sigh. “Fan-fucking-tastic.”

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

After about an hour of surgery, Summers was drained both mentally and physically.

“I’m about done here. Might need another X-ray to see—”

Jacobs was cut off as the flap to the tent opened. A guard stepped inside, and Summers saw Colonel Rivers directly behind him.

“Colonel—” Jacobs moved to put down his tools.

“You need to come with us.”

Summers noticed the Colonel’s hand was hovering dangerously close to the holster at her side.

He really did sigh this time.

“What the hell did I do now?”

“Not you.” Rivers held a hand up to Summers, her gaze fixed directly on Jacobs.

Jacobs stopped at that, and Summers felt a definite shift in the room—not a good one.

“Mind if I ask what this is about, ma’am?”

“I believe I gave you an order, Captain.” The colonel took another step forward. “I’m going to need to you to drop that now.”

Summers glanced down at the still bloody utility knife in Jacobs’s hand.

He didn’t move for a long moment.

“Tom . . .” the colonel cautioned.

Summers lunged just as Jacobs charged the colonel with the knife. The blade sank into Summers’ hand, but thankfully, the pain didn’t even register as Summers twisted the man’s arm, driving him to the ground.

By the time he looked up, both the colonel and the guard beside her had drawn down on him.

For what it was worth, the colonel looked as surprised as she should have been. And Jacobs was still trying to struggle beneath him. All Summers could do was keep the man pinned.

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

Less than an hour later, Summers’ friends had found him sitting on a fence outside the medical tent that was now a hive of activity. They were watching as the colonel barked out orders to the guards. Jacobs had to be treated with kid gloves, as he was, technically, a biohazard, since he was still covered in Summers’ blood. The colonel was thankfully not taking any chances.

In that time, they’d filled him in on why a man who’d seemed friendly only moments before had just tried to kill his commanding officer.

“He . . . sabotaged us?”

“More like he set us up,” Nowak explained.

“Run it by me again. How the hell did you figure out he made a deal with that asshole?”

Apparently, while Summers had been busy bleeding, the others had learned that something was odd with the fluid bags that were hooked up to the thin man’s IV.

Namely, Nowak had concluded that the last bag they’d given him was pure saline, no anesthetic whatsoever.

Asle held up the bag in question as if it were the proverbial smoking gun.

“This one tasted different.”

“And this Jacobs was the man who gave it to us. It’s not complicated,” Synel finished.

“Okay . . .” Summers started. “All right. But Asle, in the future, don’t taste test anything that isn’t food.”

If he was being honest with himself, he was impressed with the two. Though he preferred not to think of what might have happened if he were sedated, as Jacobs had intended.

Still, it hadn’t even crossed Summers’ mind to chalk up the thin man’s awakening to anything other than “weird alien powers” not unlike his own. He’d have guessed the colonel would have come to that same conclusion before suspecting her own men of treason.

“..Why not? It worked.” Asle looked genuinely confused.

“Because . . . Sarge, you want to help me out here?”

“At those doses, it honestly wouldn’t hurt her,” Nowak responded.

“And it did work,” Cortez added.

“Still—”

Summers stopped as he noticed Colonel Rivers walking toward their group. Her expression was decidedly not a happy one.

“Are you all right, ma’am?” Nowak sounded concerned.

Even Summers was surprised by how affected she seemed.

“I’ve known that man fifteen years . . .” The colonel eyed the tent in the distance. Jacobs was being hauled out by a few of the now suited guards.

“Stress . . . has a way of breaking people, ma’am.”

“I’m more than aware of that, Sergeant. I just didn’t expect . . . it doesn’t matter.” The Colonel composed herself before turning to Summers. “Corporal, I wanted to speak with you on another matter.”

“What is it you need?”

“When you caught us out there, you were interrupting an operation. We intended to capture either Wendel or one of his lieutenants.” She hesitated. “Most of my officers are aware at this point, but I’m planning on making a deal with Sergeant Wendel.”

This was not the conversation he was expecting to have.

“You want to . . . ? Why in the hell would you think you could negotiate with that thing? You know what it’s trying to do?”

“Is she talking about who I think she is?” Nowak looked shocked, more than anything.

“We’re aware of his motives. He and whatever entity he works for need bodies. But we need to face the facts, if what you’re telling me is true, then we’ve failed. With or without him, those things will keep spreading through this world, and we don’t have the manpower to stop it.”

“Summers could—”

“I’m aware of Corporal Summers’ talents, Sergeant. I’ve seen his work twice now. That’s why I’m speaking to you.” The colonel looked back to Summers. “I’m going to be negotiating for our return home. If Wendel wants this world, there’s not a whole lot we can do about it. Near as I can tell, he has his own agency and therefore, we can mediate with him, with his life as our bargaining chip. You bought us this opportunity.”

“Ma’am .