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Authors: Stoker,Shannon

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BOOK: The Alliance
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UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

HarperCollins
Publishers

....................................

Chapter
3

My commander has abandoned his post. Half of my convoy is heading into Europe, while the other half is going to make its way back to the States. Even though there is no word from Wallace, I have decided to join the group headed home.

—­The diary of Megan Jean

“You are the most important part of the plan,” Zack said. “Proving to the American ­people that you are alive will rally their spirits and force them to question what their leaders tell them.”

Grant, the man who'd purchased Mia through the Registry and paraded around as if he were her husband, had made it well-­known that she had been killed during a kidnapping attempt. There'd been no kidnapper. Mia had run, and she was alive and well. Grant had been busy since Mia's escape though. He was regarded as a national hero and likely successor to America's supreme leader.

Mia pictured his face. He'd chased her and her companions across the country. Mia remembered the feel of his gun pressed against her temple, the look of glee on his face because he thought he had stopped her, but Mia's friends had managed to save her, even if it was at the expense of their own lives. Mia grimaced at the memory.

“That being said, I'm the one in charge,” Zack said.

This was an uncharacteristic comment from Zack. The man was normally a team player and very open to others' suggestions.

“Okay . . .”

“I mean it,” Zack said. “This is a dangerous mission. You're brave to have volunteered yourself.”

“Stop with the compliments,” Mia said. “What are you trying to say?”

Zack let out a sigh.

“Mia, you have lots of strengths, but you're no good to us if you're dead,” Zack said. “You need to listen to every instruction you are given and above all keep yourself alive. We are all expendable, except for you. If we enter a situation where anyone, including myself, Carter, or Andrew, will be injured, you need to step away. I won't allow you to assist.”

“I didn't agree to help so I could sit in the background and do nothing,” Mia said. “One of the reasons I want to stop the Registry is so women no longer have to blindly listen to everything men say. I've played a big part in planning this attack.”

“This isn't about gender and you know it. If everything goes smoothly there won't be any action for you to step into,” Zack said. “But in order to make sure it stays that way I need you to listen to me.”

“I'm a member of External Tactics,” Mia said. “In case you've forgotten, that is the division of Affinity that handles strategies for stopping America.”

Zack's face went hard. Mia knew she'd crossed a line by trying to pull rank.

“We're leaving Affinity,” Zack said. “The divisions don't matter for the time being. I am in charge and you will do as I say, or else you will risk hurting those around you.”

Mia reached into her pocket and pulled out the queen. The chess piece Riley, her onetime mentor, had left for her. Mia realized she was the queen. The most deadly piece, which should never be sacrificed.

“I understand,” Mia said. “But I want to know what's going on. Don't keep me in the dark.”

Before Zack could respond the door to the van opened. Andrew stood outside, and Mia felt her concerns start to dissipate. Andrew would be with her; he would never let Zack push her to the side.

“The plane is loaded,” Andrew said.

Mia slid out of the van and she didn't turn around to see Zack step out.

“What's going on?” Andrew asked. “Neither of you look very happy.”

“Zack and I have a new understanding,” Mia said.

She looked to Zack and he nodded his head. Mia took that as a guarantee of his word and started walking toward their newest mode of transportation.

Mia increased her speed. She saw the big metal plane they would be boarding, along with Carter and the other two Affinity members who were accompanying them on this mission.

The rest of the members who drove them to the drop point were loading the few belongings the group was bringing. Mia wished they were bringing more firepower, but if they were caught sneaking weapons into America it would mean instant death for all of them.

 

UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

HarperCollins
Publishers

....................................

Chapter
4

There are no flights scheduled for America. Nobody has any information from inside my country. I am starting to think something is seriously wrong. I feel terrible for thinking Wallace deserted me. Now I hope he is alive.

—­The diary of Megan Jean

There were no windows in the aircraft. Mia had never been in an airplane before; she thought about her time in the helicopter and told herself that was worse. As the group sat on the hard, cold floor, Mia thought back to the pictures of airplanes she had seen when she was little.

“I always imagined seats,” Mia said.

“What?” Andrew asked.

“Sorry,” Mia said. “I was thinking out loud.”

“This isn't a commercial airplane,” Zack said.

He stood up from his spot on the floor and went to one of the crates. Zack popped open the lid and took out a piece of fruit.

“This is a shipping airplane,” Zack said.

Mia remembered going over every detail of the trip, but she had never asked any questions about what type of plane they were flying on.

“Why didn't you tell us it was this sort of plane?” Mia asked.

Zack shrugged. Mia looked at Andrew.

“Did you know?” she asked.

His brown eyes shifted before settling back in on Mia.

“No idea,” Andrew said. “Does it matter?”

“What happens when we land?” Mia asked.

“France has a large number of American bases,” Zack said. “We hope to get off the plane without running into an American soldier.”

“Why would we run into an American?” Mia asked.

“Part of their strong military presence,” Zack said. “There are usually a small number of American soldiers at all foreign ports. France is a large ally, so it wouldn't surprise me if America has complete control over their airports. They usually justify it by saying that they're looking for deserters.”

“And what if we do?” Mia asked.

“You will stay hidden,” Zack said. “Until we make sure everything is clear.”

Mia looked at the rest of the group. She didn't know Bryan or Jesse well. They had been born in Affinity, like Zack. Jesse had a head of curly black hair and Bryan kept his red hair short. The two weren't paying attention to Mia's questions. She saw Carter sitting against a wall. His eyes were closed. If he was listening in on the conversation he didn't care much. Mia frowned; he hadn't shown much interest in anything the past few weeks. Finally Mia looked to Andrew.

“The entire time exiting the plane was glossed over,” Mia said. “I was more worried about the flight than getting off.”

“You'll be fine,” Andrew said.

He draped his arm over Mia's shoulder.

“I won't let anything bad happen to you,” he said.

Mia looked away. Normally she loved being so close to Andrew, but his words sent a chill down her spine. Mia didn't want protection, she wanted to help. A sinking feeling set in that there was a lot she wasn't aware of.

 

UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

HarperCollins
Publishers

....................................

Chapter
5

We landed at an abandoned airport. All forms of communication are down. The small group I am traveling with decided not to part ways. We are taking a break before finding a car and traveling toward Washington, DC.

—­The journal of Isaac Ryland

The plane bumped up and down as it landed on the runway. Everyone was holding on to pieces of cargo, but as they started to taxi Andrew loosened his grip. Mia was next to him; she'd spent the flight quieter than normal. Andrew wasn't much for conversation and didn't want to answer any more questions. He hoped it meant things would go smoothly. Carter came up and tapped him on the shoulder. They walked toward the back of the plane as the door started to lower. One of the towers of boxes was their belongings. Bryan and Jesse joined them as they unloaded the aircraft.

Andrew was starting to resent this lifestyle. He had spent his whole life preparing to fight for America in the armed ser­vices, then after he got caught up in Mia's escape that future had vanished. Everything else he'd worked out was a fake life. First it was forced participation in a militia, then working as a trainer in Affinity, which at one point seemed like a viable option, but now if anyone asked, he was a shipper. This was not a real life and Andrew was growing weary. He wanted a stable future, and he wanted that future with Mia.

“Do you have your docking papers?”

Andrew's head sprang up. His mouth hung open. Even in the darkness he recognized the uniform. This was an American soldier, armed with a large weapon. He had known this could happen, but he still felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise. If this man figured out Andrew was a deserter, it meant he would be killed immediately.

“Do you speak English?”

Andrew looked at Carter.

“Sorry, they don't,” Zack said.

He walked up behind Andrew and Carter and handed the man some papers. He glanced at them but then went back to staring at Andrew and Carter.

“You're traveling from Stahl?”

“Yes, sir,” Zack said.

“Are you American?”

“Yes, sir,” Zack said.

Zack reached in his pocket and handed over his identification, phonies Affinity had created back in Guatemala.

“What brings you across the sea?”

“Money,” Zack said. “I can make more of it here. Then return home and buy the prettiest bride I can afford.”

“What branch did you serve in?”

“Army,” Zack said. “I fought in the Slavic wars.”

“I did too,” he said. “Who did you fight under?”

“I was in the third battalion,” Zack said.

“That's not very specific,” he said.

“Most of my unit didn't survive,” Zack said. “It's not a topic I enjoy discussing.”

The officer raised an eyebrow but didn't push the issue.

“I'm on my third round of reenlisting. Did you get out after one?”

“Yes, sir,” Zack said.

“Pity,” he said. “Can I board your plane?”

“Absolutely,” Zack said.

Andrew didn't understand why this man wanted to come aboard. This was not a scenario they had practiced; if he spotted Mia the whole thing could blow up in their faces. The soldier did not attempt to walk inside yet.

“Is your whole crew from Stahl?”

“No, sir,” Zack said. “Jesse and Bryan are American veterans as well.”

Jesse and Bryan stepped forward with their fake papers.

“Are you two expatriates or making money overseas as well?”

“Money,” they both replied.

The man smiled and nodded before turning back. Andrew felt some relief, but it vanished when he stopped in front of Carter.

“The ­people of Stahl tend to have dark hair and eyes,” he said. “You don't seem to fit the profile.”

“He doesn't know what you're saying,” Zack said.

“Then I'll say it in Italian,” he said. “The official language of Stahl.”

There was a cruel smile on his face. Andrew doubted the man spoke Italian, but he might know a few phrases from his time in ser­vice. Andrew knew Carter didn't speak any.

“Based on the age and the features, you look an awful lot like an American youth. I think this plane may be sneaking an unserved male out of the country. Which all of you know is treason. If any of you step forward and admit this fact, your life will be spared,” the officer said.

Andrew clenched his fists. This was the time to take the man out. He hadn't told anyone they were here yet. It would be simple to knock him out and shoot him with his own gun.

“That's preposterous,” Zack said.


Habla español?
” Carter said.

The man's attention was diverted back to Carter.

“We sailed from Stahl,” Zack said. “But this young man is from Nalley. After the two countries finished their war he was orphaned. If you can speak Spanish I'm sure he'd love to talk your ear off. None of us can understand a word he says.”

The officer's face seemed to relax. The odds of an American knowing a second language were slim to none. The boys were left uneducated, to fend for themselves. Carter's being raised by his father came in handy here. The officer turned around to face Zack.

“What is your purpose in France?”

“Restock and relax,” Zack said. “Perhaps show the young men a brothel or two.”

“Don't spend all your money,” the officer said. “Not if you want a decent bride.”

He stepped back and Andrew felt the breath rush out of his lungs. He hadn't realized he was holding it in for so long.

“Get back to work,” Zack said. He clapped his hands and everyone continued unloading the plane. Andrew went toward the hull, knowing Mia was not going to enjoy the next part of their trip.

 

UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

HarperCollins
Publishers

....................................

Chapter
6

As soon as the boat we commissioned hits the shores of America I am going straight home to look for Wallace. I no longer care about obeying my orders since there aren't any.

—­The diary of Megan Jean

Anger and rage filled Mia. She was so unsure whom to direct it at. Maybe Affinity, who had made it out like Mia was a valuable part of the mission, or Zack, whose idea this was, or Andrew, who had convinced her to go along with Zack's method of transporting her. Mia decided all of them deserved her ire. The vehicle they were in stopped moving. The sound of the wind had died down and Mia could hear again. Mia wished she could see where they were, but hiding in a burlap bag did not afford her that luxury.

“Your rooms are ready,” an unfamiliar voice said. “You will wash up and change, then be at Madame Martineau's in the morning.”

Mia found the man's accent enchanting. His voice was light and it was almost as if he sang his words. Mia wondered if she was going to get smuggled into the hotel inside this sack again. Whoever was there to let her out would feel her rage. She felt a hand grab the bag.

“No,” the man said. “Leave the cargo.”

Mia cringed. She was being referred to as property.

“This cargo stays with me,” Andrew said.

This situation could not get more degrading.

“It is nonnegotiable,” the man said. “Madame Martineau expects the cargo for dinner.”

Mia wasn't sure if that meant their next host wanted to eat with Mia or thought she was getting a special food delivery.

“Everything will be fine,” Zack said.

The hand on Mia's bag let go.

“Don't be scared,” Andrew said in a whisper. “I'll see you first thing in the morning.”

Truthfully, Mia wasn't scared. She was annoyed. Everyone piled out of whatever type of vehicle they were in and Mia was alone. She heard the driver walk around to his door and they took off. More than anything Mia wanted to climb out of the bag and feel the wind blow across her face, but since Andrew had explained the situation with the army officer she knew it was a dumb idea. Instead she let out a sigh and stayed in the burlap sack, feeling as useful as a piece of fruit.

The vehicle started to slow down. Mia heard her driver open the car door and walk around toward the back.

“You're still in there?” he asked. “I thought you would have crawled out by now.”

Mia took that as her cue and burst her hands through the tiny opening. The man laughed and Mia took a big gulp of fresh air.

“I suppose it was best you stayed cautious,” he said. “But a woman traveling alone or at all won't bring much suspicion in this country. Come, I'll help you down.”

Mia was in the bed of a truck, but it was low to the ground and had wooden sides. Not like the big ones she'd seen in America or the military vehicles Affinity possessed. Since she'd learned how to drive, cars held a new fascination for Mia. She stood up and walked to the man, who helped her down.

They were in the back of a beautiful house. Mia looked around the yards, which were gigantic. She saw a wall border the property and sculptures and fountains placed around the area.

“What is this place?”

“This is the garage,” he said. “Employee quarters as well.”

“Am I posing as a servant?”

He let out a laugh.

“I'll walk you to the main house,” he said. “Madame Martineau is eager to make your acquaintance.”

“Who is she?”

“The prime minister of France,” he said. “This is the estate of whoever holds that title.”

Mia looked around at all the splendor. The buildings looked timeless. They walked along a path, surrounded by beautiful flowers. In the distance she saw the home that must have belonged to the prime minister. It was a giant stone house and matched every other aspect of the property in its beauty. Mia had never thought a place so grand existed.

“What is your name?” Mia asked.

“Albin Fabre,” he said. “I am one of Madame Martineau's advisers. How was your journey?”

There were so many words to describe Mia's trip—­“awful,” “confusing,” “boring,” “agitating”—­but Mia didn't want to respond with any of those choices.

“Fine, thank you,” Mia said.

“You are a very brave woman,” he said.

Mia looked up at him and he smiled back at her, nodding his head.

“I'm sure Madame Martineau will want to tell you most of the details about the next leg, but rest assured we all support you here.”

While Mia was eager to learn what her future held, her main concern at this point was that she had a hand in it, or at least some control. They approached the large house and a person walked out to greet them.

It was an older woman; she had short blond hair and wore a fitted dress that showed off her toned arms. She held them open and walked toward Mia, giving her a kiss on each cheek.

“Welcome to France,” she said. “My name is Florence Martineau. Please, call me Flo.”

Two other women standing behind her came forward and each kissed Mia on her cheeks. Flo wrapped her arm around Mia's shoulders and guided her up the steps.

“I am certain you are filled with questions,” she said. “And exhausted from your travels. But I will give you the choice; what is the first thing you would like to do here?”

“Shower,” Mia said. “I smell.”

Both of her companions let out a laugh.

“Yes,” Albin said. “They hid her in a sack used for seafood.”

“Ick,” Flo said. “
Fille de poisson.

Flo and Albin laughed again. Mia looked wide eyed around the entry room. The entire house looked like it was made of gold and the ceiling was decorated with one of the most elaborate paintings she'd ever seen.

“Albin will show you to your room and get you set up,” Flo said. “Are you hungry?”

“Yes,” Mia said.

“Would you like food brought to you or do you want to dine with me?”

The idea of sitting alone again was too much for Mia. It was as if Flo could read her mind since she didn't wait for Mia to respond.

“We will give you an hour to freshen up,” she said. “I will see you after that.”

She bowed her head and went into the giant house.

“I think you will love your accommodations,” Albin said. “Please follow me.”

“I'm only here a week, right?” Mia said. “Then back to America?”

“Shhh,” Albin said. “Don't speak of those things so openly. Not everyone present is familiar with the plans. You can speak openly with me in private, I will be accompanying Madame Martineu as her escort.”

Mia nodded and realized her mistake in getting too comfortable too soon. She kept her mouth shut the rest of the time they walked through the great house. Albin stopped in front of a door and opened it up.

The room was pale blue, with a large bed and a dresser set. The ceiling was painted in a similar manner to the entrance. There were children seated among clouds with rings over their heads. It was breathtaking. Albin walked to the far side of the room and opened a door.

“Here is the bathroom,” he said. “There is clothing in the closet and everything you should need.”

“Should I wait for you to come get me?” Mia asked.

“You don't have to,” Albin said. “The whole house and grounds are open to you. But finding the dining room may be tricky. I'll come just to show you where it is.”

“Thank you,” Mia said.

Albin nodded and left the room. Mia was used to entering foreign lands. But this one seemed far different from the others. She didn't know what a prime minister was, or how Flo fit into the grand scheme, but Mia knew that things were about to change.

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