Xenofreak Nation, Book Three: XIA (17 page)

What Lo actually said was she was worried about Shasta and wanted to make land in order to head to the Holland Tunnel to see if she could locate her. That meant the UAAV would soon be out of range of their earbugs and they’d lose constant contact with the rest of the team.

Scott would have answered Mia’s question about the wisdom of splitting up, but he didn’t want Maddy and Fournier to know how tenuous their control of the situation really was. Without Shasta and the vehicle she was driving, they had no way to transport all the prisoners once they made land – although
where
to transport them was also up in the air. XIA headquarters was out, and the commanding officer of that National Guard unit said the jails weren’t taking xenos. Not to mention, Fournier needed to get to a hospital.

Maddy was silently fuming after her confrontation with Fournier, but seemed triumphant at the same time, which Scott could only attribute to her finding out that the Mad Eye soldier she sent to take out Lupus had been successful. He was glad she’d shut up, though. Not that goading Fournier seemed to have much effect at the moment. He was hunched under his blanket, eyes closed. Padme hadn’t moved.

Bryn had pulled the hood of her coat over her quills and tucked a blanket under her hips. It was bitterly cold, and he thought about sending her below, but didn’t want to let her out of his sight. As he watched, she straightened and turned towards shore. “Did anyone hear that?”

The noise from the two circling helicopters almost obscured it, but he did hear something. It was faint, but sounded like panicked screams and shouts. According to the radar they were just north of Poppy’s Pier.

“Scott.” Bryn’s eyes were pleading. She didn’t have to tell him she was thinking of Carla.

“Stay the course, Harding,” Alton said.

Scott turned the ship’s wheel. “It won’t hurt to get a closer look.”

The screams and shouts got louder as they approached the pier. It almost sounded like the roar of a crowd at a football stadium. There
was
an enormous athletics field at the center of the pier, but it was surrounded by a multi-story structure, and even with the helicopter spotlights, they couldn’t see what was going on from the water.

On the radar, Scott noticed a slew of slowly-moving green blips ahead of them and not far from the yacht's position. Some were at the surface, and others appeared to be slowly sinking. “What are these?”

Maddy shrugged. “Too small to be boats, too big to be fish, but you’re headed right for them. Turn to starboard!”

As he veered away from the pier, he clearly heard someone call out, “Help!”

Bryn leapt to her feet and rushed to the rail. “There are
people
in the water!”

One of the helicopters was hovering in place, spotlight sweeping around in big circles. The light gave Scott his first good look at what Poppy had done to the pier that had been originally built as a passenger ship terminal almost a hundred years ago. The pylons holding it up all along the side facing the river had either given way or sunk into the river bottom. Whatever the cause, the pier was no longer level. The storm left the huge structure sagging precariously. In fact, at the southwestern corner of the pier, where an extension of the dock had once thrust out into the river, the thick concrete infrastructure was entirely submerged.

“Oh, my God, look!” Mia pointed to the top of the building, where dozens of buses were parked. The spotlight had settled on a group of people dragging someone to the edge. With no warning, they threw him over.

Scott halfway expected Alton to spout, “Stay the course” again, but he just shook his head and said, “We’ll take on as many as we can.”

“We can pick them up with the fishing boat,” Scott said.

“No. Use the bathing platform at the stern.” Maddy turned and lifted her bound hands. “I can maneuver close enough.”

Scott exchanged a look with Alton.

“You don’t have time to debate this.” Maddy nodded to the blips on the radar. “Can’t help the ones under the surface. You’re going to need my finesse if you want to prevent any more from drowning.”

“She’s right.” Scott pulled his knife from the sheath at his belt and cut her zip tie. He’d have to stay to keep an eye on her.

Alton gestured for Bryn to follow him. “It’s you and me, kid.”

The bathing platform was like a mini dock located at the very back of the boat. It was intended to make it easier for swimmers to get into and out of the water. Bryn imagined it would be a nice place to relax in a lounge chair on a sunny day, but at the moment it was treacherously slippery as the chop slapped against the bottom of the platform and kicked up an icy spray. Fournier’s fishing boat was tied to one corner of it, but Maddy seemed to have taken it into consideration as she maneuvered the yacht around to the first victim.

Bryn clung to the stair railing as Jason hauled him aboard. The man crawled on his hands and knees until she reached out to help him to his feet. His hand was like ice. It seemed to take forever to get him up the steps into the salon. He was dressed in fatigues with no coat or shoes – he’d probably dumped them so they wouldn’t weigh him down and drag him under. His lips were blue and his dark skin ashen. He didn’t look much older than she was.

She cranked the thermostat on the wall of the salon to its maximum, saying, “You need to get out of those wet clothes. I’m going to find some blankets.”

She hurried back out. In the smaller of the two cabins on the lowest level, there were two narrow beds, and from the clothes and items strewn about, she figured it had been occupied by the captain and Dillo. The larger cabin’s lavish décor told her it was Maddy’s bedroom. She went in and yanked all the linens from the bed, dragging them back to the salon.

The young man was still standing there attempting to unbutton his shirt. She helped him take it and his socks off, but stopped short of reaching for the button on his pants.

“Bryn!” Jason called.

She draped the bedspread over the young man’s shoulders and ran out.

They were closer to the pier now. One of the helicopters had moved out over the water directly above the yacht and aimed its spotlight at them. It was a news copter, and she didn’t know whether they were trying to help with the light or just trying to film the best action, but the wind and noise were disorienting.

The light did reveal the yacht to the men in the water, though. Bryn saw some of them begin to swim sluggishly towards it. There were men standing on the unsubmerged portion of the pier who were gesticulating and appeared to be shouting. At first, she thought they were trying to help, but then she saw one of them brandishing what looked like a tire iron. With a sick sensation in her stomach, she realized why the men in the water hadn’t simply climbed out onto the pier.

The next man to come aboard was older, also wearing a uniform, and must not have been in the water as long as the first man, because he was able to tell her what happened. In a dazed voice, he said, “We’re National Guard. Just there to keep the peace. Had orders not to hurt anyone. Most of us had riot gear, shields and gasmasks, but no guns. We were outnumbered.”

They pulled twelve men in all from the river, including the latest to have been flung into the frigid water, a stocky, middle-aged sergeant named Malone. According to him, there’d been quite a few more.

The survivors crowded into the salon as their soaked clothing piled up in the little kitchenette. Bryn ransacked the cabins and cupboards for all the blankets and towels she could find. Jason called Mia to come down to attend to the men with the worst hypothermia. Malone, who was the highest-ranking guardsman among them, asked if anyone on board could lend him some clothes. Bryn went back into Dillo’s cabin, but balked at rifling through the dead man’s things. She brought his knapsack back with her and gave it to Malone.

When it looked like the situation was under control, Bryn, Mia and Jason went back up to the cockpit. The helicopters were gone. Padme was sitting up now and Maddy was at the helm, maintaining the yacht’s position adjacent to the pier.

“How are they?” Scott asked.

“At a minimum, two need to get to a hospital,” Mia replied. “It’d be best if they all got checked out.”

“Did they say why they were thrown in?”

Jason snorted. “Their guests didn’t like the accommodations.”

“I’ll bet,” Maddy said.

From the stairway, another voice joined the conversation. “We were following orders.”

“Sergeant Malone!” Mia exclaimed. “You should stay in the salon where it’s warm.”

“I’m fine. Wasn’t in the water very long.” He climbed the rest of the way onto the deck. “Whose boat is this?”

“Mine.” Maddy scowled as she took in Malone’s outfit: black pants rolled up at the cuff and a battered jean jacket at least two sizes too big. The only thing of Dillo’s that seemed to fit were the boots on his feet.

“And you are?” His attitude suggested he was planning on taking over, but Jason quickly disabused him of that notion.

“
We’re
XIA.” He gestured to Scott and pulled his jacket open to flash the badge on his belt. Malone wouldn’t fail to notice the gun in its shoulder holster.

“Thanks for the rescue,” Malone said, “but if you’re XIA, where were you when all that started?” He jerked his head towards the pier.

“That shouldn’t have happened at all,” Jason replied. “We wouldn’t have detained them in the first place.”

Even in the cockpit’s low light, Bryn saw Malone’s face go florid with anger. “That wasn’t the detainees. Local jails cleared out all the xenofreaks from the general population. Put ’em in buses. Filled the pier’s parking structure and just left’ em there. Nowhere near enough of us to stop ’em when they broke out.”

He ran his gaze over everyone present and then lingered on Bryn. “Don’t I know you?”

The hood of her coat was still up; she’d kept it over her quills while helping him and his men, so all any of them had seen was her face. She was about to deny it, but he said, “You’re that Bryn girl. The one from the news. What’s going on here?”

“This is an active investigation, which we interrupted to pick you and your men up,” Scott said firmly. “Happy to drop you off somewhere safe, but that’s as far as we go.”

Malone’s jaw jutted forward as if he wasn’t in agreement, but he said, “Whatever you say. I’ll need to borrow a holophone to report to my superiors.” As an apparent afterthought, he added, “Please.”

Scott pulled his phone from his pocket, entered the passcode to activate it, and handed it to the sergeant. When Malone saw Scott’s alterations, he recoiled slightly. “You a xenofreak, too?”

“XIA agents usually are. Tend to stay alive longer that way.”

“Huh.” Malone took the phone and lifted it. “Okay if I make this call down below?”

Scott nodded. After Malone had gone, he turned to Maddy. “Where’s the nearest public dock?”

“Right there.” She pointed to the radar holo. “And the sooner those grunts are off my ship, the better.”

“Won’t be your ship for long,” Jason said.

“Mm.” Maddy was still looking at the radar. Her face took on a greenish tinge as the holographic image of a large vessel floated through the air, on a course to pass very close by the yacht. “We’ll see.”

They were still lingering near the pier, but there hadn’t been anyone thrown into the river in the last twenty minutes or so, either because the xenos had run out of guardsmen, or because there was no point tossing them in while someone was out here rescuing them.

According to the radar, the approaching vessel was several times larger than the yacht. Scott hoped it was the harbor patrol or navy coming to their aid, although it was more likely to be one of the many barges carrying cargo up and down the Hudson.

He was about to give the order that they head for the nearest dock to drop off their passengers when he heard Lo in his ear. “Alton? Harding? Is that you?”

“Lo?” Jason said. “Where are you?”

“On West Street between the Holland Tunnel and Poppy’s Pier. Stuck behind a major blockade. We saw you guys on the news rescuing those men.”

“Oh, yeah? You find Shasta?” Scott asked.

“No sign of
her
, but we can see her vehicle on the other side of the blockade.”

“She inside?”

“Negative. Something’s definitely wrong. She should have called by now. I have a bad feeling she’s on the pier.”

“Why would she go there?” Jason asked.

“To look for Nicola and Savvy. I’m pretty sure she feels responsible for them, doesn’t want them to get hurt. Because things are crazy around here. Troops and tanks everywhere. Army’s preparing for something big.”

That would explain why the news helicopters had gone. The authorities would have ordered them to clear the air space, ostensibly for their safety. Scott was conscious that Bryn was watching and listening; he was glad she couldn’t hear what Lo said. She was worried enough about Carla without knowing the army was converging on the pier. If they took action, there would be a lot of innocent xenos caught in the crossfire, including Nicola and Savvy.

He glanced over at Fournier, who appeared to have fallen asleep under his blanket with no knowledge that his ‘daughter’ was so close, or in such potential danger.

“Lo. Heads up.” It was Boardman. “We got company.”

The earbug picked up an unfamiliar man’s voice. “You can’t be here.”

“We’re XIA,” Lo said.

“In an ice cream truck?”

“It’s an Urban Amphibious Armored Vehicle with adaptive camouflage panels. See?”

She must have made the UAAV invisible or something, because the man said, “Jeez! Nice ride. You still can’t be here.”

They continued to argue, but Scott’s attention was pulled away from the conversation by raised voices coming from below deck. There were thumps and crashing sounds and then Malone ordering someone to “Stand down, soldier!”

From the sound of it, he was having trouble convincing his men the fight was over.

Jason had been sitting next to Mia, but stood to move closer to the stairs. He frowned at Maddy. “You don’t have any weapons down there, do you?”

“What do you think?” From her expression, the answer was an unqualified yes.

Scott looked over at the pier. On the top level, someone had set fire to a bus. In the flickering light, he could make out the xenos who’d prevented the guardsmen from getting out of the river, still patrolling the pier. If the yacht moved a hundred yards or so closer, the guardsmen could get some payback.

Jason pulled his gun, but didn’t go below. Scott knew what he was thinking: the best place for him to be in the event the guardsmen rushed the cockpit was at the top of the stairs, where he could pick them off.

In his ear, Scott heard the man Lo was talking to say loudly, “Move out!”

Lo was unflappable. “I’d like to speak to your superior officer.”

That was when Scott noticed the approaching vessel. Its running lights were bright enough that he could see it wasn’t a barge. He wasn’t terribly familiar with water craft, but it didn’t look utilitarian enough to be harbor patrol or navy. If anything, it appeared to be a much larger version of Maddy’s yacht. As it came alongside, he looked along its impressive length and saw the blades of a private helicopter near the stern.

A tone sounded from the helm and before Scott could ask Maddy what it was, she waved a hand through the radar holo and a face appeared. The man had smooth mahogany skin and black hair. Scott didn’t immediately recognize him, but knew he’d seen him somewhere. It wasn’t until Maddy said, “Hello, Father,” that he realized he was looking at billionaire Philip Singh.