Rogue (Book 2) (The Omega Group) (19 page)

“You can call me the Pied
Piper, if you like.” The bear that was saved seemingly against his will, nudged
Myrick’s thigh with his snout. “Not wearing a belt this time, big boy.” Myrick
looked down into eyes that were more human than he’d expected. The bear lowered
his chest to the ground and jerked his head to the side.

“Seriously? You’re gonna
give me a ride? Sweet!” Myrick smiled at the beast as he climbed on. “When you
get back to your human form, you’re going to have to tell me how you got that
scar under your eye. It looks kind of like a crescent moon.”

Carter’s right arm had gone numb minutes after they’d left
the hangar. The only reason he hadn’t already fallen to his death was the
vise-like grip of his other hand on his wrist. Jackie would be furious to know
he was treating his recently dislocated shoulder so badly. He didn’t know what
direction they were flying as his view of the moon was blocked by the body of
the chopper, but they were still over trees, so he assumed they were going
north.

Thus far, no one had tried to shoot at him, so he figured
they didn’t know he was there. When they landed—for his arm’s sake he hoped
that would be soon—he’d at least have the element of surprise.

Carter used his time to search the ground below. There
didn’t appear to be anything but trees; however, if he’d learned anything over
the last few days, it was that looks could be deceiving. Still, when the copter
finally angled downward, he couldn’t discern any sign of life below.

When the chopper slowed to a hover twenty feet above a small
clearing, Carter let go. Although the fall was dangerous, it was far less so
than having a helicopter land on top of him. It also gave him time to get to
cover before anyone disembarked.

Once he was safely in the tree line, he grabbed the
tranquilizer gun from his belt. He knew from experience they only held two
shots, but since he’d lost his rifle in the hangar when Mirissa flung him to
the chopper, it was his only weapon.

As the chopper landed, Carter played out the upcoming
scenario in his head. The general was the main target, but he was far from the
greatest threat. One of the soldiers had been killed in the hangar, but that
still left three more genetically enhanced enemies to deal with. Add to that
the presence of Lou, and this little party was going to get real interesting,
real quick.

He waited until all the
passengers were on the ground so he could see Lou. There were four soldiers,
not three, but something seemed off with one of them. He was fighting against
the hold two of his comrades had on his arms. The other one had Lou in his
grasp. Carter made his decision.

His first shot took out
the soldier with Lou, his second hit one of the ones manhandling the unwilling
soldier. Carter threw down his weapon and shifted into his wolf form. The
clothes he was still wearing draped off his new frame. The pants fell off as he
ran, but the shirt stayed in place, causing him to stumble over the too-long
sleeves.

He leapt into the air,
jaws wide open at the other soldier. Before he could sink his teeth into the
man’s throat, he was batted to the side. He rolled back to his feet and
attacked again, only to be kicked in the ribs with a leg that was far more
powerful than he’d expected.

This time, instead of
leaping for his throat, Carter aimed a little lower—below the belt. The “man
code” might forbid that kind of conduct, but this guy was no normal man, and
Carter needed every advantage he could get. He dodged the foot that was clearly
meant for his head and latched onto the man’s nether regions. The high-pitched scream
that followed told Carter everything he needed to know. That guy was out of the
fight.

To his surprise, the
fourth soldier threw a punch. Not at him, but at the general, who crumpled as
though his jaw was made of
glass.

The man raised his arms
above his head and spouted, “I’m not one of them. My name’s Jackson. I’m
Yavapai.”

Carter’s wolf looked at
Lou for verification.

“He’s telling the truth.
Not sure why he’s dressed like that, though.”

Carter shifted back to
his human form, straightened his crooked, grass-stained shirt, and grabbed his
pants from the edge of the clearing. “Are you guys all right?”

“We are now,” Lou said.

Carter pulled some zip
ties from his pocket and handed them to Jackson. “Can you secure those guys
while I deal with the general? Wrists and ankles. Get the nutless wonder first.
The other two will be out for a while.”

The general pulled
himself off the ground, straightened his uniform, and glared at Carter with a hatred
he hadn’t seen since the night his father kicked him out of the tribe. “You
haven’t saved the day, you know. Quite the opposite, in fact. A lot of good
soldiers will die because of what you’ve done here tonight. Our men in uniform
need my research. They need the enhancements I’ve developed.”

“You might be right,
General. What they don’t need, however, is you.” Carter grabbed the general’s
hands and roughly secured them with a tie. “You’re a sociopath that needs to be
put down and I, for one, want a front row seat.”

Carter saw the general’s
facial expression change from arrogance, to fear, and then to something that
looked like relief. When the corner of his mouth twitched upward, Carter knew
something was very wrong.

He turned around just in
time to see Lou swing a rifle like it was a baseball bat at a soldier’s head.
The man went down hard, still holding the rifle he’d been aiming at Carter a
moment prior.

Lou wore a cheeky grin on
his boyish face as he looked from the downed soldier beside him to Carter. “Now
we’re even,” he said.

Carter glanced over at
the other soldier he’d hit with a tranquilizer, half expecting him to be coming
after them, too. But he was still out cold, snoring a little with every inhale.
That’s when Carter remembered: He’d traded pistols with Jackie back at the
facility when they were planning on shooting Captain Hancock. The first
tranquilizer dart in her gun held only enough sedative to last a few minutes.

“Yes, we are, Lou. And,
Jackson? You might want to get this guy next.”

The ticking of the slowly
cooling helicopter engine was drowned out by a thunderous sound coming from the
woods to the south. Carter turned to see dozens of wolves and bears stampeding
toward them. “Looks like the cavalry showed up.”

“Yep. Too bad they didn’t
make it a few minutes earlier,” Lou said.

Carter smiled at the
approaching tribe members. “True, but I’m just glad to see them working
together.”

Mirissa woke up enveloped in the most comfortable chair
she’d ever been in, let alone on an airplane. Despite her best efforts, she’d
dozed off for the first few hours of the flight. Maybe there were some
lingering effects from the massive amount of drugs she’d been injected with the
night before, or maybe the craziness of the last week had finally caught up
with her. Either way, with Greco’s arm wrapped around her shoulders, she was
happy just to relax for a while.

They’d delayed their trip home for a few hours to allow
Carter some time with his father. Judging by the contented look on his face,
their relationship was at a much better place than it had been. With Gina
wrapped tightly in his arms, Mirissa thought he looked happier than she’d ever
seen him. The kiss he planted on Gina’s lips just then confirmed it.

“Oh, bloody hell. Not you guys, too. Between Mirissa and
Greco and the two of you, I’m going to be filling up every air sickness bag on
the jet.” Myrick popped him on his injured shoulder as he passed them in the
aisle.

“Hey! Watch it, fish-man,” Carter yelled to the Scotsman.

Yep, things are definitely back to normal.

A raucous laugh erupted from a few rows behind, and Mirissa
turned to peek over the back of her chair. The newest member of the Omega
Group, Captain Will Hancock, was being regaled with Han’s somewhat exaggerated
stories of their exploits. Although he didn’t have a preternatural origin,
Hancock’s enhancements, and recent unemployment, made him an irresistible hire
for Mirissa’s mom. Han had taken to him immediately, as had the rest of the
team, and Mirissa was secretly happy to not be the newbie anymore.

Settling back into her seat, she asked Greco, “What did I
miss?”

“Just the usual rundown.” He ticked the points off on his
fingers as he spoke. “The general’s capture was credited to a particularly
dedicated young park ranger who is now ripe for a huge promotion. Director
Finley is sending one of the lawyers he has in his pocket to make sure
Persaud’s insanity is properly documented before whisking him away to parts
unknown. The mind-controlled soldiers have been moved to an undisclosed
location for de-programming and seem to be doing well. Dr. Powell is back at
work at the DARPA facility, which is, of course, under new management. Turns
out, he really didn’t know what the general was up to. Just goes to show that
even geniuses can be totally stupid. The tourists who lost their memories have
absolutely nothing to worry about. The blood tests showed low levels of a
psychotropic drug that was, according to Powell, used to erase the memories of
anyone who happened upon the facility’s entrance. Oh, and the Havasupai and
Yavapai tribes are now friends.” Greco took a comically deep breath to
illustrate that he’d finished with his recap.

“So, pretty much the same-old
same-old
,
then.” Mirissa reached into the bag at her feet and pulled out her book, eager
to find out what dastardly plans the crazy psychics had for world domination.

“Where did you get another copy of that book?” Greco asked.

“I didn’t. This is the one I came with.”

“You mean, as our last jet was hurtling to the ground, and
you were faced with almost certain death, you thought to grab your book?”

Mirissa gave him a wry grin and a quick peck on the lips.
“What can I say? It’s a seriously good book.”

The same flight attendant they’d had on their last flight
rushed down the aisle toward Mirissa’s mother. She knelt down and whispered
something urgently in her ear. Mirissa was overcome with a strong sense of déjà
vu, as was everyone else on the flight, apparently.

All eyes were on Myrine as she made her way to the cockpit.
When she turned to address the team, they were already strapping on their
weapons. “Relax. There’s nothing wrong with the equipment. We’re just heading
into some strange atmospheric conditions.”

“What kind of conditions?” Myrick asked.

“I was just about to ask the pilot that exact thing.” As she
turned to the cockpit door, it burst open and the pilot grabbed her arm.

“I’ve never seen anything like this. I don’t even know what
to call it, but it’s everywhere.”

“What are you
talki
—?” The expression
on her mother’s face as she looked past the pilot spoke volumes. Apparently,
Mirissa wasn’t the only one that thought so, as every person on the plane
clamored to get a view.

When she reached the cockpit door, Mirissa’s jaw dropped.
The sky that was once clear and blue was now filled with billowing red clouds,
rolling in every direction. Black tendrils of what looked like smoke snaked
around and through each cloud before moving on to the next.

Myrine was the first to find her voice. “What are your
instruments saying?”

“Nothing. They’re not picking up any disturbance at all.
When I sent Carrie back to get you, there were only two red clouds. Now”—He
spread his arms wide—“they’re everywhere.”

“Get us on the ground. Now,” Myrine commanded. “Everyone else,
take your seats and strap in.”

Mirissa turned to walk down the aisle, but stopped short.
“Ow!” She grabbed the front of her shirt and ripped it open, not wanting to
waste time with the buttons. The burning on her chest was excruciating and she
needed it to stop.

“Mirissa, are you all right?” Greco asked as he turned her
around to face him. He saw it at the same time she did.

The key she wore on a chain around her neck—the one handed
down to her through generations of her Amazon family for reasons as yet
unknown—was glowing red-hot.

“Oh, this can’t be good.”

The
End

You’ve just read Rogue from the Omega Group Series. I hope
you enjoyed it.

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If you’d like to read an excerpt from Pandora, the next
installment of The Omega Group series, please turn the page.

The legend of Pandora’s Box predates recorded history and,
as with all ancient legends, there have been many incarnations. A creation
story, eerily similar to that of Eve in Genesis, it depicts man’s fall from
grace at the hands of an overly curious woman.

It is said that Zeus, angered when Prometheus gave the gift
of fire to mortal man against his wishes, created the first woman as a
punishment. Her name was Pandora, and the leader of the gods sent her to earth
with a chest full of all the evils which had yet to plague mankind. Zeus gave
her instructions to never open the box, but also endowed her with great
curiosity, which he knew would cause her to disobey him.

When she did so, the evils imprisoned in the box escaped,
spreading disease, hardship, death, and a myriad of other suffering upon the earth.
Gone was the utopian perfection that was once mankind.

This story, over thousands of years, has been told almost as
a cautionary tale for children. It is also only a fraction of the truth.