Prologue
The year is 2015. The world as we know it no longer exists.
In 2003, Ezekial Rage launched nuclear bombs from China at Cairo, London, Moscow, and Tokyo. The targeted cities retaliated before asking questions. By 2005, the world economy had collapsed, and the United States government fell apart. The former superpower has split into two warring halves, Dulab and Zinja.
The new America is one of hardships and struggles. Warfare has decimated most of the population between the ages of 35 and 65 and has drained the continent of its natural resources. The young and hardy have quickly risen through the ranks to become the new leaders. They are strong, smart, and willing to do anything they have to if it means the end of the war.
Dulab, consisting of the former states of Ohio, Illinois, Indiana, Iowa, South Dakota, and Montana, is dedicated to upholding life as they knew it before the war. They are led by Commander Bennett and Roger "Race" Bannon, men well acquainted with military expeditions. Zinja, made of the states of Texas, New Mexico, Arizona, Utah, Colorado, and Kansas, has fallen under the rule of a madman named Dr. Zin. Zin's ultimate goal is global domination, starting with the fall of Dulab.
The Dulabian's fight back courageously. They have organized Task Forces composed of their best young freedom fighters. As Quinque, the most elite Task Force, Jonathan Quest, Jessica Bannon, Alexander Anderson, Ashley Ray, and Dion Jennings fight to defend and expand the Dulab territory against Zin. Quinque is passionately determined to resurrect the world they once knew.
Mike Smith watched as dust kicked up from underneath the stranger's feet. They had been watching the man draw closer for the past fifteen minutes. Finally he reached the gates of the compound and stopped, starring up at Mike.
"Who are you?" Mike yelled, leaning over the tower that guarded the gates.
"My name is Zachary Morris," the man hoarsely replied. "And I'd like to talk to whoever is in charge of this camp."
Mike turned to his partner, Lloyd. "What do you think?"
Lloyd shrugged. "Might as well let him in. One man can't be too much of a problem for a camp full of trained soldiers. And besides, if Taber doesn't like what he hears, he'll throw him back outside for the coyotes."
Mike nodded. "Just a minute," he called out to Zachary.
In front of Zachary, the gates creaked open enough for him to slip through. As the gates closed behind him, a tall, thin man in black made his way toward him. The man, possibly the aide-de-camp, crossed his arms and menacingly eyed Zachary.
"Who are you?"
"Zachary Morris," he repeated.
"What do you want?"
"I want to talk to whoever is in charge."
"I decide who the commandant talks to. Unless you say something I think he's going to want to hear, you won't get within fifty paces of him."
Zachary sighed and ran a hair through dirty blond hair. "Look, I just made my way from Columbus to here. I'm tired, hungry, and dirty. But the long and short of it all is that I want to switch sides." Defection was an old story -- on both sides.
"Why?"
Zachary's blue eyes flashed in anger and hatred. "Because of my sister. She's dead and it's all Bannon's fault."
The man studied Zachary, taking in the hard face and long scar, before reluctantly nodding. "I'll take you to the commandant."
* * *
Fifty miles away, the rest of Quinque watched the computer sitting on the table in front of them. They could not see what was happening at the camp, but they could hear every conversation Jonny could. While in the camp, Jonny would keep his watch, which was based on old designs made by Dr. Benton Quest, Jonny's father, on so that Quinque would know what was happening. Technically they could also speak with Jonny, but they knew it might look a little strange if Jonny started randomly talking to his watch.
Jessie Bannon sighed. "Is he going to use that old story again?"
Next to her, Ashley Ray raised an eyebrow. "He's used this story before?"
"All the time," Xander Anderson answered, laughing. "The only difference is in how his 'sister' dies."
"Remember the time she was supposedly ran over by a tank Bannon was driving?" Dion Jennings signed, smiling.
"And they actually fell for that?" Ashley asked, incredulous.
"No one ever said members of the Zinja Guard had brains," Jessie tartly replied. She punched a few keys in her laptop and watched as Jonny's signal, a green Q, moved across the camp. "Quiet now, team. He's in with the commandant."
* * *
Tony Taber, a big man in his mid-thirties with graying brown hair, looked up from his desk as his aide entered his office.
"Yes, Wells?"
"Sir, there's a young man out here who would like to talk to you about a defection."
Taber sighed and laid down his pen. "Send him in."
Wells motioned for someone out of Taber's sight to enter into the office. "This is Zachary Morris, sir."
"Hello, Morris. I'm Tony Taber, the commandant of this camp. My aide, Wells, tells me that you have recently decided to leave Dulabian territory."
"Yes, sir."
Taber's eyes narrowed. Zachary stood and acted like someone who had some former military training. And usually he was wary about letting such people into his camp, as they might be Dulabian spies. "Were you in the army?"
"For a while, sir," Zachary admitted.
"Why'd you get out?"
"My mom got sick and I had to go back to Columbus to care for her."
"Why do you want to join the Zinja Guard?"
"Revenge," Zachary stated.
Taber smiled. There was no better reason than revenge for changing sides in the middle of war. "What happened?" He sympathetically wondered.
"You know about the Dulabian Task Forces, right?" Taber nodded. "Well, my sister was in one of those. She got really sick, so sick in fact that she couldn't eat. She was so weak she could barely stand up. And Bannon still sent her out with her Task Force. Needless to say, she didn't come back from that mission." Zachary's voice was level but Taber could see the mixture of sadness and anger in his eyes.
"How'd you get your scar?"
Unconsciously, Zachary touched the long scar that ran down the right side of his face. "Motorcycle accident. Smashed my face open on the pavement when gravity took back over."
Taber stood, meeting Zachary's bright blue eyes. "I run a tough camp here, Morris. If you don't feel you can keep up, I suggest you leave right now."
"I can handle anything you throw at me, sir." His voice was full of confidence.
Taber gave Zachary a tight smile. "We'll see about that, Morris." He looked at his aide. "Wells, find Morris a bunk."
* * *
"Is it just me or did that seem a tad bit too easy?" Dion wondered.
Jessie, who had only caught the end of Dion's quick moving fingers, looked at him with a confused look. "What did you say, Dion?"
"I was wondering if that seemed too easy," the mute repeated.
"Not particularly," Xander said. "Jonny's an excellent actor."
"Jess," Ashley interrupted. "It's ten o'clock."
Jessie glanced at her watch. "Oh, so it is. Thanks, Ash." Reaching across the table, she put the phone on speaker, and dialed Hadji's number. There were no secrets between Quinque and their coordinator.
Hadji Singh finally picked up after the fifth ring. "Sultan."
"Caroline, Sandman, Stick, and Pudge checking in," Jessie said.
"Is Apollo in?"
"Affirmative."
"Keep monitoring him and call me every six hours to report in."
"Will do. Caroline out." She hung up the phone. "Now that's how I like meetings to be: short and sweet."
Xander laughed and then turned his attention back to Jonny's signal. "Why does Jonny always get to have all the fun?"
* * *
"Correspondence from Dr. Zin, Commandant." The messenger handed Taber a thick envelope.
"Thank you," Taber said as he took the package. "Get something to eat and drink and then come back to my office. If Dr. Zin wants some sort of reply, I'll give it to you then."
"Yes, sir." The messenger saluted and left.
Taber opened the envelope and pulled out two pieces of paper. His eyes widened as he read what Dr. Zin had written to him. It seemed that some of his troops were to go to Columbus and deliver a special "gift" to Intelligence Command. And he knew the perfect person to spearhead the mission.
"Wells," Taber called and almost immediately his aide was inside the office. "Morris has been here for two weeks, correct?"
"Yes, sir."
"How's he been doing?"
"Excelling at everything, sir. Though he has a strange reluctance about using guns during shooting practice. But even so, he manages to consistently beat our best men."
"And his loyalty?"
"Seems to be cemented to Zinja, sir. He doesn't say much about Bannon, but when he does, you can tell that he truly despises the man."
"You don't believe he could be acting?" Taber had to be absolutely sure about Zachary's motives.
"No, sir, I don't."
Taber nodded. "Would you bring Morris to me? I need to talk over a possible mission with him."
"Right away, sir."
Less than five minutes later, Wells had returned with Zachary a few steps behind him. The commandant shook hands with the newest recruit and then motioned for Wells to leave them alone.
"You wanted to see me, sir?"
"Yes, Morris." Taber sat down at his desk, tapping the papers he had just received. "You came from Columbus, correct?"
"Yes, sir."
"Have you ever been inside Intelligence Command headquarters?"
"Yes, sir."
"Do you know where the ventilation shafts are inside the building?"
"Some of them, sir, yes."
"Do you think anyone would recognize you if you were to go there again?"
"I know a back way into the building, sir."
Taber raised an eyebrow. "A back way, Morris?"
"A secret passage, sir."
"And how did you learn about that?"
"I used to work for Peter Harrison before he was arrested, sir. He captured Apollo and I was one of the people who escorted Apollo to Harrison's office."
"Why weren't you arrested with Harrison?"
"Four of us had brought Apollo to the office and Harrison excused two of us. The two who remained with him were arrested."
"So you met Apollo?"
"We didn't exactly have a heart-to-heart, sir, but yes, I've seen him."
Taber shook his head, amused. "And you would know him again if you saw him?"
"Immediately, sir."
"Good. Would you be willing to return to Columbus?"
"If it could mean the death of Bannon, yes, sir."
"That's all for now, Morris. Return to my office tomorrow at dawn. I have a mission for you."
A hard smile covered Zachary's face. "Very good, sir."
* * *
"He's having way too much fun with this," Ashley laughed. "Talking about himself in the third person like that. I kept expecting him to start cracking up in the middle of that conversation."
Even Jessie was smiling. "He didn't have a 'heart-to-heart' with him. That was nicely put. I just wonder what Jonny's going to say if Taber asks him to describe Apollo."
"So why can't I infiltrate the next Zinja camp?" Xander whined.
"Because the Zinja Guard knows what we all look like. The only person in Quinque they have absolutely no pictures of is Jonny, and you know it," Dion reminded.
"We need to call Sultan and tell him something's going to be happening soon. Dr. Zin has some sort of plan that Intelligence Command needs to know of." Jessie quickly dialed Hadji's number and told their friend what they had heard.
* * *
As the sun was breaking over the horizon, Zachary stood in front of Taber's desk. The commandant, glad to see that the new recruit was on time, looked at the young man with a tight grin.
"Have you heard of Dr. Messiah, Morris?"
Zachary nodded. "Who hasn't, sir?"
Dr. Ben Messiah was Zin's scientist and inventor. No one in Dulab knew what the scientist looked like or even if Messiah was his real name. From what they had gathered through intelligence, Dr. Messiah stayed hidden, often even from Zin's eyes, in an underground lab. They did know one thing for sure: Dr. Messiah hated Race Bannon and Bennett.
"Dr. Messiah has invented a new nerve gas. It's invisible to the human eye and has no smell. It also kills anyone who breathes it within three minutes. And the time that person has left alive is, according to the reports I've read, quite painful. Dr. Zin would like this gas delivered and distributed to Intelligence Command headquarters. The best way to accomplish this will be through the ventilation shafts. But you must make sure it reaches Bannon and Bennett's offices. Without them, Dulab will crumble." He paused. "Do you think you can handle that, Morris?"
"Yes, sir." Zachary's bright blue eyes gleamed in anticipation.
"Good. Two of my men will accompany you to Columbus."
"What about the gas?"
"Oh, yes. You will need to go to Phoenix to retrieve it. Zin didn't feel safe shipping it to us out here on the border like we are. He felt there was too much of a chance that a Dulabian spy might catch wind of the plot." He shuffled around some papers. "You will have transportation until the Ohio border. After that your group will be on your own. We can't have any Dulabians getting suspicious about your point of origin."
"When will we leave?"
"I'll need to talk to the other fighters who will join you and work out a few logistical things about the trip. Be ready to leave by two o'clock this afternoon. Meet me out in the truck yards."
"Yes, sir." Zachary saluted and left.
* * *
"Sultan."
"This is Caroline."
"I take it you have learned something."
"Yes, and it's not a good something." Jessie told their coordinator everything the commandant had said. "What should we do now?"
There was a long pause as Hadji thought through everything. "I want you four to pull out and return to Columbus. Warn Apollo if you think it appropriate, but you must beat him back to headquarters. In the meantime, I'll tell Race what is transpiring and we will work out a plan from this end. It is not so easy to push a boulder from the top of the mountain."
Jessie laughed as Ashley rolled her eyes, Xander sighed, and Dion covered his eyes with a hand at another one of Hadji's vague sayings. "I believe we can catch a ride most of the way back. I know of at least one trader who will be heading in the direction tomorrow. And since Apollo has to go to Phoenix first, we should be able to beat him without trouble."
"When should I expect you?"
"If we're going to be longer than three days, we'll give you another call," Jessie replied. "Does that sound reasonable to you, team?" The other members nodded. "Three days then, Sultan."
"Keep track of Apollo as much as you can on your way back as well. We can't afford to have something happen to him."
Xander laughed. "Sultan, if you heard the way he has these guys wrapped around his little finger, you wouldn't be worrying."
Hadji chuckled. "This is Apollo we're talking about. And if I don't know anything else about him, I know he can attract trouble faster than anyone else could say 'sim sim salabim'."
The members of Quinque broke into laughter.
"Too true, Sultan, too true," Jessie said once she had controlled her giggling. "We'll see you in a few days. Caroline out." She hung up the phone and then turned to her friends. "So do we warn Jonny or not?"
"We could just make him sweat it out," Dion grinned.
"No," Ashley replied, a small smile on her face. "We should at least let him know we're headed back to Columbus. He is our leader, you know."
"Which is exactly why I should be down there in the camps instead of him," Xander argued. "He can't lead if he's captured by Zin."
"Do you really think you would a last a day in one of those camps?" Jessie asked. "I mean, Jonny's even learning how to box this time around. Xander, we all know it's your wit and brains that you got you this position in Quinque, not your muscles."
"Then you, Jess . . . " Xander started.
"No." Jessie shook her head. "I've heard that Zin has commanded his guards to arrest any red hair, green eyed woman on sight and ask questions later. I wouldn't last two minutes in one of those camps." She paused. "Why this sudden outburst anyway?"
Xander shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe I'm just getting old and pessimistic, but eventually, his luck is going to run out. We all know that he's gotten out of impossible situations in the past, but how many times can he keep depending on the Fates to pull him out of every mission? Eventually he is going to be killed."
"We're all going to die sometime, Xander," Dion said. "It's just a matter of when."
"And if I know Jonny, he'd rather die fighting Zin then dropping everything and living to a ripe old age. We'd all rather die then step back and watch Zin destroy the world."
"But Jess, you and Jonny are so much more important to Dulab then the rest of us."
"That's crazy, Xander. You, all three of you, are very important to Dulab. If you weren't, this would be Duo instead of Quinque." None of them laughed and she sighed. "Tough room. Look, I know that sometimes you guys get frustrated when Jonny goes out and takes all the chances, leaving us in the back, watching. But that's who he is. He would rather die himself then see any one of us die. You all remember how he was when Josh was killed."
Josh Alana had been killed in the line of duty five months ago. Ashley had been recruited onto the team to fill the hole.
They nodded.
"Even now he still blames himself even though it was Josh who didn't follow Jonny's orders. If he had he might still be with us. As it is, Jonny plays the 'what if' game almost every night." She paused. "And yes, Xander, you're right. Someday Jonny's luck is going to run out. But Quinque will go on, as it must. Dulab will not fall with Jonny's death. None of us are irreplaceable, not even my father." She sighed. "Jonny is one of the most selfless men I have ever known."
"He wants to die," Ashley flatly stated.
Jessie grimaced. "Don't we all sometimes?" she asked. "But yes, he does have a small hope that in the afterlife he will be able to reunite with his family." She shook her head. "But none of this is getting us back to Columbus. Xander, talk to Jeremy about giving us a ride out of here. Ash, pack up all the electronics that we brought with us. Dion, you pack up everything else. I'm going to contact Apollo."
* * *
Zachary was taking a shower when his watch started to flash. He stuck his head out of the shower stall but did not see anyone.
"Apollo," he whispered, hoping that he could not be heard over the water, in case someone that he had not seen was around.
"Caroline. We've been recalled to back you up in Columbus."
"Affirmative. Apollo out."
He stood under the running water of the shower for a long time. For some reason, reconnaissance work always made him feel dirty.
At two, Zachary met with Taber in the truck yards, as ordered. He carried a small bag with him that contained enough change of clothes for three days. He knew it would not be enough, but if he was lucky he might get a chance to wash them in a stream somewhere along the way.
"Morris, these are your men, Eric Young and Dustin Greenblat. Young, Greenblat, this is Zachary Morris. He'll be your guide once you cross until Dulab territory. Until Ohio, Young is in charge. I've briefed him on the whole situation. Now, are there any questions?" The three men shook their heads. "Good. You have a week. And I hope to see you all make it back here alive."
"Well," Zachary muttered after Taber had left. "That was an encouraging little speech."
"Stow your gear away, men." Eric motioned at a nearby jeep. "The sooner we get out of here, the sooner we can get back."
Ten minutes later they were on their way to Phoenix.
"How long will it take us to get to Phoenix?" Zachary asked, leaning forward from the back seat.
"About two hours," Eric answered from behind the wheel.
"You're new to the camp, aren't you, Zach?" Dustin asked, running a hand through his already wind blown black hair.
"Yes. I got here two weeks ago."
"Defection?" Dustin wondered. Zachary nodded. "Why? If you don't mind my asking."
"Bannon killed my sister." Zachary repeated the story he had told the commandant.
"He's a real humanitarian, isn't he?" Dustin sneered. "I don't see how anyone could care about Race Bannon."
Zachary settled back into his seat, quietly seething in anger. Race is a good man, he thought as his eyes scanned the speeding landscape. After Dad died, he adopted me -- maybe not formally, but certainly in spirit. And neither Jess, Hadj, nor I could have hoped for a better father.
As promised, two hours later, the three men were pulling into the base at Phoenix. Eric showed the papers with Taber's signature to the guards, who immediately waved them through the gates.
"Do you know where to go?" Dustin asked as they drove through the compound.
Eric nodded. "I've been here before." They pulled up to a white building with no windows.
Two guards were instantly beside them, asking for paperwork.
"We're from Commandant Taber," Eric explained while showing the guards the papers. "We're going to Columbus."
"Right." One of the guards nodded. "You're here to pick up the package."
"That's correct. No use going all the way to Columbus without it," Eric grinned.
"Follow me, then, men. One of the doctors will need to tell you a few precautionary steps about the gas." The same guard motioned for the three to get out of the jeep.
They silently followed the guard through white hallway until they reached a small, cramped office. There was barely enough room for all three of them to fit in, much less a fourth when the doctor arrived. The guard left the alone, probably in search of the doctor they needed to talk with. Five minutes later, a small man with uncontrollable white hair peered into the room.
"You're the ones going to Columbus?" He questioned.
"Yes, sir," Eric replied.
"Very good." He entered the room and made his way to behind his desk. "I'm Dr. Kress. Now I'm assuming that Commandant Taber told you a little about Dr. Messiah's gas."
"Some," Eric nodded.
"Can anything save you after you've breathed it?" Zachary wondered.
Kress shook his head. "No."
An hour later the three men were back on the road. Zachary looked at the black padded bag that protected three precious, and deadly, flasks. When Kress had first shown them the flasks, Zachary had thought them empty and the whole gas idea a joke. Then Kress had held the flasks up to the light. A light blue color could be seen within the otherwise clear flask. A shudder had made its way up Zachary's spine at the proof of the gas. He had to make sure the gas was never released, especially not within Intelligence Command headquarters.
* * *
"Do we have a plan yet, Hadj?" Jessie asked as she settled herself into one of the chairs in front of his desk.
Quinque had been back in town long enough to stop by Jessie's house and change clothes after three days of traveling, but that was all.
"We're still working on it," Hadji admitted. "Do you know where Jonny is now?"
"The last time we looked he was about a day behind us," Ashley said.
"That should give us enough time to get everything ready." He glanced at Ashley. "Sandman, do you think it would be possible to add some lock picks and other escape tools into the watches Quinque wears?"
As the coordinator talked with their electronics genius, Jessie studied one of her best friends. Hadji had grown up, as they all had, after the fall. He still wore his turban, proclaiming a heritage he now could never have. Born into the royal family of Bangalore, Hadji should be Sultan, as his call sign named him. But Bangalore no longer existed. And so Hadj had decided to stay in Dulab and help the only people he could call family. Before the fall, Dr. Quest had adopted Hadji and Race, like he did with Jonny, treated Hadji as his own son. She knew that if Dr. Quest were still alive, he would be proud of both his sons.
" . . . Race." Her father's name pulled Jessie out of her thoughts. She looked at Hadji and tried to determine what he was talking about. "There will be a meeting later tonight so you might want to stay close to headquarters. It will be after dinner sometime, but beyond that I do not know."
"Would it be all right if I visited my parents?" Ashley quietly asked.
Hadji's brown eyes met Jessie's green ones. "I don't see a problem with that," she replied. "Just be back by 6:30. Do you think that will be soon enough, Hadj?"
Hadji nodded. "That should work. Jess, are you going to go anywhere?"
"No. I'd planned on staying around headquarters."
"All right. Once I know more, I'll let Jessie know and she can share the news with the rest of you." He paused. "Get some rest if you can. This is bound to be a long night."
* * *
It was the next night when Eric, Dustin, and Zachary made their move. They were dressed in all black clothing and Zachary carried the precious bag. Moving in and out of shadows, the three men made their way to the secret entrance. In a warehouse across the street from the headquarters building, there was a trap door in the cement floor. Zachary did not know who had originally created the passageway and if it was meant to be used as a way in or out, but it suited their purpose.
Dustin helped Zachary lift up the heavy block that was the door to the secret passageway. Eric flipped on a flashlight and looked around, as if expecting Intelligence Command agents to pop up from within the empty warehouse.
"There's no one here," Dustin whispered, more to relieve the silence than Eric's worries.
"Can we close the door once we're in?" Eric asked.
Zachary nodded and turned on his own flashlight. He put a hand on the bag, reassuring himself that it was still there. "Let's get going."
They stepped into the passageway and Dustin closed the door. Zachary paused for a minute, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness where the only light came from the three dim flashlights. He was glad that it was him, and not Jessie, who was using the passageway. Jessie was claustrophobic. Shaking his head, he reminded himself not to blow his cover now. He could only hope that the rest of Quinque had managed to work out some sort of plan.
* * *
Ashley was tracking Jonny's movements on the laptop. Suddenly she looked up from the screen and gave Jessie a thumb up.
"He's here," Jessie warned Hadji.
Hadji nodded and looked at each member of Quinque. "You know what to do."
* * *
Zachary was the first out of the passageway and into the blackness of the basement. He looked around with his flashlight and seeing no one else, motioned for Dustin to follow him. Eric was to stay in the passageway and keep it clear, in case they needed a fast escape.
Dustin and Zachary moved through the basement and to the fans that circulated air throughout the building. Zachary's heart started beating faster the closer they crept. Where is Quinque?
"Hello? Is someone here?" The voice was feeble and thin. "Hello?"
Zachary almost could not keep a grin off his face. It sounded like an old man, but he would know Xander's voice anywhere. Quinque was here.
"Henry?" That was Jessie. "Are you all right?"
"I'm fine," the old voice replied. "I just thought I heard something, but it must have just been the machines talking to each other."
A door at the top of the stairs in front of them opened and Zachary and Dustin dove for cover among the shadows. Zachary peered around from his hiding place to see Xander's outline in front of the door. Xander's hands flashed a few strange gestures and then he was gone. Grinning in the sudden darkness, Zachary knew that Dustin would have no idea that Xander had just communicated to him by sign language.
"We'll have to be more quiet," Zachary whispered to his partner. "That was way too close."
Dustin silently agreed as the two men made their way once more to the fans.
* * *
Eric had been ordered by Taber to make sure that the gas was put into the ventilation system so when Zachary and Dustin had left the passageway, he had followed them. He made sure there was enough room between them that they would not be able to hear his footsteps. Therefore when the lights suddenly came on, flooding the room and making Zachary and Dustin both stop in surprise, Eric was able to dive behind some boxes.
"Stop right there!" A powerful voice called.
Eric peered out from around his hiding place to see a tall man with white hair nearing Dustin and Zachary. Members of Intelligence Command had already surrounded the two, guns at the ready. And there, behind Bannon, he saw a flash of red hair. Red hair meant Jessie Bannon, Race's daughter. And Jessie meant Quinque. All this time Intelligence Command had known they were coming.
"Stay back, Bannon," he heard Zachary growl. There was the sound of something being zipped open. "You know what this is and you wouldn't want me to accidentally drop it."
Eric turned to see Zachary holding a flask in his hand. The gas. What was he thinking? If he dropped it, they would all die.
"You don't want to do that," Race said, trying to placate Zachary.
"Oh, I think I do," Zachary sneered. "I'll kill you, even if it means my own death."
Just then one of the soldiers behind Bannon twitched his fingers, and Zachary's body jerked backwards as a shot entered his chest.
"No!" Bannon screamed, running toward the falling man. "Hold your fire!"
But he was too late. The first shot had set off the rest of the soldiers and Zachary's chest was soon covered with bright red blood. Even from a distance, Eric could see Dustin's eyes open wide as the flask slipped out of Zachary's nerveless hand. Dustin dived for the flask, but he was too slow.
The flask broke into hundreds of glass shards.
Eric fled, hoping he could outrun the gas. At least Bannon would be dead in a matter of minutes.
* * *
Dustin stared at the flask, knowing it meant his death. But death would be preferable to spending time in Bannon's torture chambers. He closed his eyes, waiting for the inevitable. Some of the guards grabbed his arms, restraining him. Somehow he managed to hold in a maniacal laugh. They were all going to die and these soldiers wanted to make sure he didn't leave?
"Are you all right?" He heard Bannon ask.
Dustin did not even open his eyes, did not even bother to nod at Bannon's question. Zachary was dead and Eric was who-knew-where . . .
"Yeah, I'm fine, thanks."
Dustin's eyes flashed open and his mouth dropped when he saw Zachary sitting up, brushing some of the blood off his black shirt.
"I liked this shirt, too, Race," Zachary said with a smile.
Dustin sagged in the soldier's arms, not quite believing what he was seeing. "How . . .?"
Zachary turned toward him, his blue eyes sparkling. He wiped some of the red off with a finger and then stuck the finger in his mouth. "Ketchup."
"But . . .?"
"What about the third one?" Bannon interrupted anything Dustin might have said.
"He got away," one of the soldiers replied. "Do you want us to go after him?"
Bannon and Zachary exchanged grins.
"No." Bannon shook his head. "Everything's going according to plan."
"What about the gas?" Dustin whispered.
"Oh, yeah, Dustin, thanks for reminded me about that." Zachary handed the bag to Race. "Some of the scientists might like to take a look at the stuff in here."
"And that . . . " Dustin motioned to the broken flask.
"Was completely empty," Zachary explained. "I stole the flask when we were in Phoenix. You never know when something like that is going to come in handy."
"But why . . .?" Dustin was still having trouble believing everything that was happening.
"Why this whole setup?" Zachary clarified and Dustin nodded. "Lots of reasons, my friend, lots of reasons." And then he was gone, headed toward the door.
"Who . . .?"
One of the guards standing over him laughed. "He's good, isn't he? That's Apollo."
* * *
Four days later a bedraggled Eric stood before Taber's desk.
"What happened?" Taber demanded. "Why isn't Bannon dead?"
Eric shook his head. "I don't know, sir." He quickly explained everything he had seen in the basement of Intelligence Command headquarters. "Zachary was killed but the flask with the gas fell out of his hand. Everyone who was in that basement should have been dead, including Bannon and Quinque."
"But they're still alive!" Taber hit his desk with a fist. "How is that possible?"
Eric swallowed nervously. "I don't know, sir. Maybe," he paused. "Maybe the gas was never supposed to work. Maybe Dr. Messiah was wrong . . . " He trailed off.
Taber closed his eyes. The Dulabians had beaten their team so easily and Messiah's gas did not work. He was getting too old to keep fighting this war. Maybe it was time to start thinking about finding his way to Columbus . . .
* * *
"So can I go into the next Zinja camp we have to infiltrate?" Xander asked as Quinque gathered in Hadji's office.
Jessie sighed at the continuing argument.
Jonny only gave him a lopsided grin. "Sure, why not? I mean, I shouldn't be the only one in the group who gets to have a little fun every once in a while."