Invasion (The Alien Wars #1) (31 page)

He caught sight of the generator room without incident. The door was closed and no one was visible. Surprised that they hadn’t left a guard, he cautiously walked nearer.

Standing beside the door, he saw there was a big hole where the lock had been shot out. He bent down and peered through the hole. He saw a man sitting beside the generator reading a magazine. His rifle leaned against the chair.

Xavier drew back and stood up. He couldn’t shoot the man in cold blood. He’d never shot someone who hadn’t been holding a weapon in his hand and he wasn’t going to start now.

Xavier leaned against the wall as he thought of what he could do. If he could somehow get the man to open the door, he could hit him in the head with his rifle and knock him out. But if the man opened the door knowing that there was someone outside, he’d be on guard.

An idea crept into his head. It was a gamble, but if it worked, he wouldn’t have to shoot the man.

Positioning himself up against the side of the door, he took hold of his rifle and held it above his head. Then, in a semi-quiet voice, he began to meow like a cat.
“Meow, meow.
Meow, meow, meow.”
Xavier paused and waited. A moment later, he heard the scraping of a chair and footsteps.

The door opened and a head poked out. Xavier slammed the rifle butt down on the man’s head, careful not to hit him too hard. He didn’t want to kill him.

The man fell to the ground, not knowing what had hit him. Xavier grinned as he placed his weapon down and felt the man’s pulse. It was still there. He dragged the man inside the generator room and went back to grab his rifle. He glanced around the parking garage to make sure that no one had seen the attack occur, and then he
reentered
the generator room and closed the door.

As he spotted blood on the floor, his thoughts returned to Peter. There seemed to be a trail of blood leading to the back of the room, so he followed it. Hurrying around some shelves, he stopped as he caught sight of Peter.

Bending down, he felt his pulse, certain he was dead. He was. Xavier stood up and surveyed the pool of blood that surrounded him. It was a lot and probably the reason he had died.

Xavier hurried back and opened the backpack. He took out the plastic explosives, as well as the timer, and began to attach it to the main section of the generator.

Logan
peered around the corner and saw two men slumped on the ground. He frowned. He turned back to the others. “I wonder if someone was here before us.”

“What do you mean?” Jet said.

Muscles walked forward and gazed down the hallway. As he saw the fallen men, he grinned. “Looks like Sabrina did her job.”

“What do you mean?”
Logan
questioned.

Muscles shared a glance with Baldy before turning to the others. “I arranged with Baldy to give Sabrina something when she left us earlier.”

“What?” Jet asked.

“Something to spike the drinks.”
Muscles glanced at the two guards. “I told her to wait until
eight thirty
as I didn’t want her to take a risk for nothing, but as we were delayed, she assumed the worst and did what I had asked of her.”

“Why didn’t you tell me this?”
Logan
asked, walking toward the men.

“Well, it was my back up plan,” Muscles said. “Plus, with
rumors
of a traitor, I didn’t know who to trust.”

Arriving where the men were lying,
Logan
bent down and felt the man’s pulse. It was still there. Broken glass littered the carpet, along with a stain that
Logan
assumed was alcohol. He turned to Muscles. “They’ll be out for a while.”

“Good. Let’s hope we find Sanchez in the same situation,” Muscles said.

Logan
removed the pistol from the man and stood up. He walked over to the door and tried turning the handle. “It’s locked.”

“Use your pass,” Baldy suggested.

Logan
reached into his pocket and pulled it out. He slid it in. With one hand gripping the handle of the pistol, he opened the door.

The room was silent. Various people were lying on the floor. Some were women, but most were men.
Logan
put the key pass back into his pocket as he waved the others into the room. He had never been in the party room. Well, he had peeked inside once, but he couldn’t remember what it had looked like then.

On the right side were several couches. Next to them was a bar with several stools. There were only a few people slouched on the floor, alongside empty glasses. On the left side, tables and chairs went along the walls to form a semi-circle. And in the middle, hanging above what looked like a dancing area, was a giant chandelier.

Opposite them were two doors. One was open and, looking through, he saw it was some kind of kitchen. As the others filed in,
Logan
bent down next to a man. He could smell alcohol on his breath.

“We did it!” Jet said, smiling.

“No, not yet.
Not until we find Sanchez.” Muscles glanced around at the silent room. He tried to spot the mob boss, but he couldn’t. “Let’s spread out and see if we can see him.”

Logan
put the pistol back into his pocket as he left the group and walked to the left where numerous tables and chairs were set up. People were lying here and there, with half-eaten food on their plates. But he couldn’t see Sanchez.

Suddenly, Baldy clucked his tongue. “Hey!”

“What is it?” Muscles said, spinning around.

“Come here,” Baldy said.

Logan
hurriedly joined Jet and Muscles in the
center
of the room. “What did you find?”

Before Baldy could answer, someone emerged from the kitchen. It was Sabrina.

Everyone stared as the young woman slowly walked toward them. Her dress was dirty and her makeup was streaked down her face. She had a solemn look on her face.

“Sabrina! What …” Jet paused as four men emerged from the kitchen.

Three of the men were tall, muscular, bearded, and rough looking. The fourth one had slicked-back hair, piercing blue eyes, and a wicked smile. He held a cigar in one hand and a revolver in the other. Without a word, he aimed it at Sabrina’s back and pulled the trigger.

Sabrina cried out before crumpling to the ground. Jet rushed over as
Logan
and Muscles aimed their weapons at the man.

Before they could do anything,
Logan
saw several men that he had presumed were dead walk toward them, all with weapons in their hands. The women who had appeared to be unconscious had also risen and gathered in a corner.

“What the hell…?”
Logan
muttered.

Muscles glared at the man with the cigar. “It’s been a long time coming, Carlos Sanchez.”

“Same here, Hogan Rodgers.”
Sanchez smiled as he saw the expression on
Muscles’s
face. “You didn’t think I knew your real name, did you?” He laughed out loud, pausing as Jet, angry at losing Sabrina, rushed toward him.

Jet raised his fist but didn’t get to punch Sanchez, as one of the bodyguards stepped forward and knocked the teen to the ground.

Muscles and
Logan
lowered their weapons as the other men closed in.

“Nice and easy now.
We wouldn’t want anyone else to get hurt,” Sanchez said.

At the motion of his hand, two men hurried forward and relieved
Logan
and Muscles of their weapons.
But not Baldy.

Logan
frowned. He shared a glance with Muscles. “What’s going on?”

“I’ll tell you what’s going on,” Baldy said, stepping away from the two of them. “I’m the reason you’re here now.”

Muscles frowned. “What?”

Jet was the first to catch on as he slowly got to his feet. “Damn you!”

It then clicked with
Logan
. “You’re the spy.”

Baldy nodded as he put an arm around Sanchez. “Sanchez and I—”

“Get your filthy arm off this suit!” Sanchez thundered.

“Sorry, sorry,” Baldy said, taking his arm away. As Sanchez brushed imaginary dust particles off his dinner suit, Baldy continued speaking. “It was so easy. You didn’t suspect a thing.”

“How could I?” Muscles muttered. “You were my closest friend. Why would you do something like this?”

Logan
saw that Muscles was visibly shocked. He gazed at Baldy, who was quite pleased with himself, almost as though he had won the lottery. “Was it you that informed Sanchez about the first attack on The View?”

Baldy nodded.
“And the second.
It was pretty easy. All I had to do was leave a note in a certain place at a certain time.”

Jet glared at Sanchez. “You’re a murderer, shooting Sabrina in cold blood like that.”

Sanchez laughed.
“Really?
A murderer?
Is that all you’ve got?” He grinned at Baldy. “If it weren’t for this man here, I’d be passed out on the floor now.” He glanced at Muscles. “It was a good idea of yours to get Sabrina to spike the drinks. A shame it didn’t work.”

Muscles glared at Baldy. “The only reason it didn’t work is because my friend turned against me.”

“You know, that’s funny you should say that,” Baldy said, anger coming into his voice. He approached Muscles. “You were the one who turned against me first, so I thought it was only appropriate that I return the
favor
.”

Muscles frowned. “I turned against you? What are you talking about?”

Baldy gazed into the blue eyes of Muscles. “A friend doesn’t stand by and watch his best friend’s wife and child get killed.”

Muscles sighed. “How many times do I have to tell you that I’m sorry? I keep on telling you again and again—I searched everywhere. I really did. For twenty-four hours straight. And I couldn’t find them.”

“You should have searched longer then,” Baldy spluttered. “But you didn’t, and all ‘cause you had to take Jet to a doctor.”

Muscles nodded. “It was a hard decision leaving you alone like that, but Jet was dying.”

“And so was I, on the inside!” Baldy paced back and forth, angry. “Did I leave you last year when we went rock climbing and your rope snagged on a rock? Or what about the time that grizzly decided you looked like the perfect meal? Did I leave you then?”

Muscles sighed and shook his head. “No. I’m sorry I had to leave, but I couldn’t find your family. I even lost a good man in the search.”

“A good man?
I lost a loving wife and a beautiful child!”
Baldy spat on the floor.
“That’s what I thought of you then and that’s what I think of you now.”

“Did Sanchez offer to help you find who killed your family?” Muscles asked.

Baldy nodded. “Yes, he did.”

“Did you ever stop to think that he might have kidnapped them himself?” Muscles prodded. “I didn’t tell you this earlier, but I found a scrap of paper at that warehouse.”

Baldy frowned. “What? Why didn’t you tell me about that?”

“I wasn’t sure whose handwriting it was until I came across some papers in the penthouse suite just ten minutes ago. They matched exactly.” Muscles stared at Sanchez. “It was your handwriting. You ordered the kidnapping and the murder of his family.”

Sanchez smiled but didn’t say anything.

“Admit it!” Muscles roared.

Sanchez glanced at Baldy, who had taken a step back from him. Before Baldy could reach for his weapon, Sanchez pulled the trigger on his revolver.