Changing Tides (7 page)

“I… That video, was that real? The story wasn’t made up?”

“No, it wasn’t made up,” Orion said softly.

“I-I didn’t know. How…can I have time to think about it?” Brett asked.

“You need to think about it?” Moore asked, indignant.

“I…I…”

“You’re in shock, and you’re exhausted,” Orion answered. “We can give you until morning.”

“Will you kill me?”

“You saved our friends and intervened on my behalf several times, so no, you will not die by our hands. But you will not be allowed to go free,” Orion said, anger surging through him. He understood Brett’s hesitation. He understood where the other man was coming from, but it still hurt that Brett wanted to think about it, that he needed time.

“Will you—”

“I will see you in the morning. Not before.” Orion stood and pulled Brett to him, hugging him close. “Sleep. Take time to make the decision you can live with.”

“I—”

“No, you get until morning,” Orion said, interrupting him again. “Blindfold him and take him back to his cell.”

“Will you do it?” Brett asked, looking down at him. Fear and worry swirled in his blue eyes.

Orion nodded. “Turn and kneel. Leave this on until morning.”

Brett did as Orion asked. Holding his breath, Orion blindfolded the other man and kissed him on the top of the head. He stepped back and squeezed his eyes shut. Opening them, he nodded, and Thompson and another man helped Brett to his feet. Carter stood beside Orion.

“You care about him.”

It was a statement, one Orion didn’t bother to deny. Her words were quiet, so only those closest to them heard.

“I’ll see that he gets food and a place to sleep,” she said.

Orion nodded his gratitude, watching as Brett was led away from him then he returned to his quarters. It would be a long, sleepless night for both of them.

* * * *

Brett tossed and turned on the bed. There was a mattress on some sort of a raised platform. It qualified as a bed even if he couldn’t see it. He’d been taken to a cell and his hands had been cuffed in front of him, sending shockwaves of pain through the muscles. A tray had been placed on the bed next to him, and the door closed. He’d gratefully eaten the food that had been bland but filling, before trying to sleep.

He’d slept.

Badly.

Body aching, he lay on his back and opened his eyes. The world was still black. He’d hoped the blindfold would have worked its way off during the night. It hadn’t. Carefully, he sat up, straining to hear anything. The air had a musty smell as though the place were underground or closed off and had been for some time. He heard the muffled sounds of life from beyond the walls confining him. There was no way to tell how long he’d been sleeping.

“Hello?”

The whispered word echoed back to him.

He was alone. Again. Still.

Orion was nearby, he knew that. Possibly others he knew. But Orion wasn’t who he’d thought he was. He was part of the Citizens for a Free Aelland. A terrorist group. Unless one listened to what they had said. Brett had. Or he’d tried to. He’d tried to listen to what people were saying while trying to process the fact that his government, his own supervisors had turned against him. Did the general know when Brett had been there to talk to him? Or earlier in the day when he’d gave his report?

Brett sat on the edge of the bed and buried his head in his hands. He had two options. For or against. Orion or a government and family that would not forgive him. He didn’t love Orion. Not yet. Maybe not ever. He couldn’t make this decision solely based on how he felt about Orion. As the younger man had said, Brett had to live with his decision. Could he continue to support a government willing to kill the helpless and those who questioned or sought to do things a better way? He couldn’t. Not and remain who he was. Who he wanted to be. Who Taren had thought him to be. Who he had been with Orion.

His death warrant had been sealed when he’d run from the security forces instead of turning himself like a good solider and citizen. Still, there was no way this small terrorist group could defeat government forces. If he was caught with them, he would be killed. There would be no trial, just his name on the list with other traitors. Death either way.

“Prisoner, stand.” The voice boomed, reverberating throughout the room.

Brett winced at the too loud sound and stood.

He followed the directions, telling him to turn to the left, to walk straight ahead, to stop. His cuffs were disconnected, setting off another firestorm of pain. He turned, and his arms were re-secured behind his back. He was turned again. Arms grabbed him and half-pushed, half-guided him through a maze of corridors.

“Are you taking me to see Orion? Hellman?” Brett asked, trying to make sense of where they were and if they were heading back to where he’d last seen his man.

“Move.” The single command was accompanied by a rough shove forward.

Brett stumbled before another set of arms helped him regain his balance. Unable to see where they were going, he could only hope they were taking him back to see Orion. The man had given his word that they wouldn’t kill him. The man needed his decision. Orion wasn’t the ignorant, helpless man the general called “boy” and the government would have sent to the institute. The man who people, including Brett’s own family, thought wasn’t able to make decisions on his own. Orion was held in high respect amongst this group of people. He was a leader.

Brett bit the inside of his cheek. Could he handle that? He was alive and hadn’t been harmed because Orion had said so. Would that last? What happened if he and Orion couldn’t make it work? Would he regret his decision? Having no choice but to trust his wellbeing to his guards, he allowed the multitude of questions to wash over him.

“Kneel.”

The order pulled Brett from his thoughts. He dropped to his knees. Straightening his spine and squaring his shoulders, he refused to show weakness.

“Lieutenant Brett DeMarco, you were asked to make a decision, one brought on because you have helped us without making any sort of formal statement one way or the other.” Orion’s voice was sure and strong in the darkness, becoming his point of reference.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Close your eyes. I’m going to remove your blindfold.”

Brett did as he was told. The touch required to uncover his eyes was cold. Had Orion given up on him? Before any more thoughts could invade, he sensed the other man stepping away from him. Taking a deep breath, Brett opened his eyes, squeezed them shut again before blinking them rapidly and trying to get used to the bright light.

“Take a moment,” Orion said, sounding farther away.

Brett forced his eyes to work. Slowly, the room came back into focus. He was in the same room, surrounded by the same people as yesterday. He turned his attention to Orion.

“Have you made your decision?” Orion asked. Dark circles and deep lines of worry, etched his man’s face. Shades of insecurity and pain filled his eyes.

“I have one question first. Something, I need to know.” Even as the words formed, Brett knew the truth of them.

“What?” Orion asked his voice pinched.

“Is your group responsible for Doctor Taren Prescott’s death?”

“A doctor, you say?” a dark-haired woman asked.

“Y-yes. He was tortured and murdered,” Brett replied. Even if he disagreed with his government, he could never align himself with a group who condoned that sort of action.

“No,” the woman replied instantly.

“Orion?” Brett asked.

“No, we aren’t responsible for that. We have never killed a civilian. We might be able to find out who did, though,” Orion replied. “Our enemy is the government. It wouldn’t be in our best interests to take that kind of action, especially not with civilians. We have never tortured anyone, not even government officials.”

“I would like to know who did it, if that’s possible.”

Orion nodded.

Silence descended. They were waiting for his decision. They would find out who was responsible for Taren’s death, even if he sided against them. “Between death and death. Or even captivity, I… I still can’t support my government.”

“Be certain. We won’t kill you.”

“No, but even if I was found in some rat-infested cell by government forces, I would be killed,” Brett answered. “I will do my best to help you succeed.”

“I don’t trust him.” A lone speaker broke the silence from the table.

Brett turned to the man, one of the same men who had demanded he be killed yesterday. “Sir, you don’t have to trust me. I offer my services and knowledge, such as they are, to this group all the same.”

“Why did you need time to make your decision?” the man demanded.

“My family has been in the military and government for generations. You’re asking me to give up everything based on little knowledge and my gut reaction.”

“Just so you understand, Lieutenant DeMarco,” the woman who’d spoken to him earlier said. “Betray us, and we will find you and kill you.”

Brett swallowed and nodded. He wasn’t surprised. This group hadn’t remained this unknown by trusting lightly or allowing betrayal to stand. Orion cleared his throat and nodded. The cuffs securing Brett’s hands were removed. Orion stilled any movement, massaging first one of Brett’s arms and shoulders then switching sides while the table’s occupants discussed new information and progress on other topics. The voices faded, Brett’s concentration pinpointing on Orion and his touch.

A chair was brought out, and he was helped into it. Orion touched him often, while Brett tried to follow this discussion. Decision made, he wanted to contribute, hoping any reservations he had would disappear. He wondered if they could actually find out what had happened to Taren or if it was a lie. He needed to know. For closure, he needed to know.

“Do we have any idea what the government knows about us?”

The question pulled Brett from his thoughts. “Very little. Until you claimed responsibility for the video, they had no idea you existed. Even afterward, information was limited to a partial manifesto—little more than a few sentences that can’t be traced to anyone, some of which are contradictory. I know. I looked. Homeland Security in the capitol may know more, but if they do, they weren’t sharing,” Brett answered, refusing to acknowledge the pang of guilt he felt for giving out the information. It was information he wouldn’t have told anyone outside his chain of command twenty-four hours ago.

“You flipped pretty fast.”

Brett tensed at the accusation. “I had time to think about it. And my name is on that list of people to be arrested last night. If there isn’t now, there will be a shoot to kill order given soon. My only chance at life, to live without any sort of fear, is for you, this group, to succeed.”

The woman across from the speaker nodded.

“Find out what is known now. In the meantime, start the first phase of the next operation,” Orion ordered. “You all have your orders.”

“What about me?” Brett asked.

“Have you eaten?”

Brett shook his head. “I had something last night.”

“Good. Then you and I will have a quiet breakfast and a shower. No offense, hon, but you stink,” Orion said, smiling. Brett watched as Orion scribbled a note and handed it to the man who had been guarding him. The guard nodded and disappeared.

Chapter Five

Orion led the way through the maze of corridors to the small room that belonged to him. He wanted to pinch himself, to know it was a reality that Brett had decided to help them. Questions about who Taren Prescott was or even why Brett had made the decision he did could wait until after the man had gotten food, shower and sleep. War was approaching, and everyone needed to be ready for it. But for now, he wanted to spend a few hours with the man he cared about, burning off some of the mounting stress and tension they’d both been under.

Stopping in front of a door, Orion punched a code and stared into the small retinal scanner, waiting impatiently for the locks to disengage. He led the way down another passage to another door with a number pad where he punched in another code.

“Security is impressive. This place must be huge,” Brett said quietly.

“The digging, building, excavating and installing security has been an ongoing process for years.”

“How does no one about this?” Brett asked as Orion led the way into his room.

It wasn’t much, slightly larger than his dorm on base. The room opened to a sitting room and small kitchenette. A door on the far side led to a bedroom of roughly the same size and a bathroom. The walls were cement blocks that had been painted white some time in the past. The maze of tunnels connected buildings and areas of the city from all eras. Orion secured the door behind them and turned on music. It was low enough they could talk over, but high enough that it cover anything that might be said.

“What is this place?”

“It counts as home, I guess,” Orion said, looking around. His throat was raw and sore, his voice unnatural to his own ears after years of disuse.

“How do you go from not speaking at all to…to everything?” Brett asked.

“Survival,” Orion said simply, retrieving a bottle of water from the small fridge and taking a drink from it. “Want one?”

“Not yet. You mentioned a shower? It might help me feel a bit more human.”

Orion nodded and led the way into the bathroom. He set out towels, showed Brett where everything was and kissed him quickly on the lips before returning to the living room. Rolling his shoulders, he sat down. There was just as much to do here as there had been while working for the general, if not more. Relishing the quiet, where there were no questions to answer, he smiled at the irony. He’d grown so used to not speaking that now that he could, it was slightly painful and made him leery of talking more. Additionally, he worried about having the wrong people overhear him.

A knock on the door pulled him from his thoughts. Orion withdrew the gun he’d carried since they left the base yesterday. He opened the door slowly, gun cocked, his body preventing the door from opening farther.