Page 168 of Aviatrix

“All future communication will be done through radio or Morse code,” the General says. “If you’re rusty, brush up.”

This is insane. This is war. I can barely process what I’m hearing.

“Finally,” he exhales, “I want to apologize. To those of you who were sent to that funeral, I should have been there. We lost two members of Alien Warfare. Joan Reasor and Gilbert Fisher.”

My eyes widen.

Joan Reasor was Frances’ partner. And Gilbert Fisher was the bug-eyed vet.

They’re gone?

Why didn’t I know?

“I’m being unmercifully watched by this administration,” the General continues, each word growing quieter. He scans the room, as if trying to memorize our faces before someone puts a bullet in the back of his head and erases everything. “Contact from me will be minimal moving forward. But I will still find a way to protect you better than I have these past few weeks. I deeply regret not standing up when you needed me. I hope to earn back your trust in the coming days. Until then, I’ll be watching. And I won’t let them bury us.”

“General!” a voice shouts from the back of the room. “D.C. has been attacked!”

The room goes still.

“When?” the General demands, eyes wide.

“Three minutes ago,” comes the reply.

Lark turns to me. His face is ghost-white.

Amber’s across the Potomac.

Is the Pentagon next?

Or did they find the Legion sitting in that rotting warehouse we gave them the coordinates to?

THIRTY-SIX

I’M GOING WHEREVER YOU’RE GOING, QUAY

“I want eyes on that warehouse!” Gary booms through the control room as Scooter shoves the last bite of toast into his mouth, then immediately sets his fingers flying across the keyboard.

I stand back, heart pounding in my chest.

Please don’t let there be another attack.

If something happens to Amber, I’ll never forgive myself. At the funeral, I made the choice and handed her off to Sasha, then ran off to alert the press. She wouldn’t be at the Pentagon if it weren’t for me.

“Faster!” Gary shouts, though Scooter’s already moving faster than I’ve ever seen him.

I need to see it. With my own eyes.

Before I can say anything, the door slams open and Lark storms in, sharp and full of fire. “Get me visuals on the Pentagon. Now!”

“I’m working on it,” Scooter growls.

Then, the screen lights up.

The Pentagon. Still standing.

I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding, my body folding inward with relief.

Amber and Sasha are safe.