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S.A.V.E.
Book Four of the A.L.I.V.E. Series
R.D. Brady
Books By R.D. Brady
Hominid
The Belial Series (in order)
The Belial Stone
The Belial Library
The Belial Ring
Recruit: A Belial Series Novella
The Belial Children
The Belial Origins
The Belial Search
The Belial Guard
The Belial Warrior
The Belial Plan
The Belial Witches
The Belial War
The Belial Fall
The Belial Sacrifice
The A.L.I.V.E. Series
B.E.G.I.N.
A.L.I.V.E.
D.E.A.D.
R.I.S.E.
S.A.V.E.
The Steve Kane Series
Runs Deep
Runs Deeper
The Unwelcome Series
Protect
Seek
Proxy
The Nola James Series
Surrender the Fear
Escape the Fear
Published as Riley D. Brady
The Key of Apollo
The Curse of Hecate
Be sure to sign up for R.D.'s mailing list to be the first to hear when she has a new release!
Chapter One
Off the coast of Seattle, Washington
The rain beat a steady rhythm against the roof of the wheelhouse of the Destiny, a seventy-foot rusted blue crabber off the coast of Washington state.
Martin sat in the corner of the wheelhouse, a heavy gray blanket draped over his shoulders. He wrinkled his nose as yet again the smell of fish invaded his nostrils. He’d made the mistake earlier of trying to cover his nose with his hand, but it had only made the smell stronger.
He held out a hand with disgust. His hands were still wrinkled. He’d spent a full day in the water after Garrigan and his cohorts had dumped him out of the plane.
A plane.
From the water, he’d seen the explosion as the bombs hit the factory in Edmonds. The explosion had set off a small tsunami, which had shoved him farther out to sea. It was pure dumb luck that the crabber had found him. He’d managed to pull himself up onto a buoy but only after he’d spent hours floating. Then he’d spent a cold, miserable night clinging to life on the rusted metal.
The door to the wheelhouse opened. It brought with it a gust of cool air and a spray of rain and seawater. A rough man with a black stocking cap on his head, waders, and a thick raincoat stepped into the room. Captain Ernesto Flavigo gave him a bright smile. “Ah, you’re still awake. I thought perhaps you might have gone below to catch some shut-eye.”
Martin shook his head. “No. Have you had any luck?”
Ernesto nodded his head as he walked to the coffee machine and poured himself a cup. Martin held his tongue with barely concealed anger as Ernesto took a long sip. He let out a deep, contented sigh. “Yes. I’ve reached the Coast Guard. I told them about finding you. It appears quite a few people have been lost at sea after the events in Edmonds. The Coast Guard has been run ragged. They don’t have enough people for the demand.”
Martin didn’t give a damn about the Coast Guard and its staff shortages. “When will we be back on shore?”
“Another two hours at most. But the seas are getting choppy, so you may want to go below. It will be safer.”
Martin reined in his growl. On one level, he knew the man was just trying to be polite to his unexpected guest. He and his crew of four had plucked him from the sea two hours earlier. They’d been far off the coast and had been shocked to find him on the buoy. But they’d done their best to make him comfortable. They’d given him a change of clothes and plied him with food and hot drinks to help warm him up.
But they were slow men. Slow-moving and slow-thinking. They were also stubborn. He could see that in the set of their shoulders and the cadence of their talk. Pushing them would only make them grow suspicious. He was lucky they believed his “I fell off a boat” story.
Besides, he had no leverage here. There was nothing to hold over the man’s head, at least not yet. So he bit his tongue. “I’m sure I’ll be fine. What about your SAT phone?”
The weather had made the SAT phone unusable. Either that or the missile strike in Edmonds had wiped out communication lines. He still couldn’t believe that Tilda had gone through with it. He hadn’t thought she had the spine for it.
She’d shown him, hadn’t she?
Of course, he also hadn’t thought Chris Garrigan and Adam Watson would kidnap him. He hadn’t read their desperation correctly.
Martin didn’t understand that kind of desperation, at least not when it was linked around the well-being of another living creature. He wasn’t sure what he would do if someone took his daughter. Oh, he’d send people after her and make sure those who dared to harm what was his were destroyed. But he would not be in the state that Chris Garrigan had been in. The man had been beside himself.
As had Nora Tidwell. Nothing in her file indicated that she would become so attached to the Maldek. She’d been just as desperate to get him back.
They were probably all dead in the blast now. He smiled. At least one good thing had come out of this. That and the decimation of the Drago. That scourge should have been wiped from the planet years ago. And if Martin had been in charge, they would have.
He knew that not all of the Drago had been destroyed. There would be pockets of Drago across the globe that escaped the attack. The United States had underestimated the defenses at the Antarctica base as well. That base went extremely deep. Even with a MOAB, they would not be able to reach the farthest depths of the Drago stronghold. Some would survive. And like cockroaches, they would eventually crawl from the rubble.
But the attacks would set them back on their heels. It could be decades, if not longer, before they reemerged.
“Is the SAT phone working?”
“Yes, yes. Do you want to make a call?” Ernesto pulled the phone from his inside jacket pocket.
Martin had to keep himself from snatching the phone from Ernesto’s hand. Of course he wanted to make a call. He’d been asking to make a call for the last two hours. Ernesto had assured him that eventually the SAT phone would work. But he seemed in no hurry to make sure that it did.
Martin took the phone and headed for the door.
“Are you sure you want to go out there? The storm is getting worse.”
The storm is just beginning, Martin thought but said nothing.
“Hold on a second.” Ernesto slipped the rain slicker off of his shoulders and handed it to Martin. “At least take this. It’ll keep most of the rain off of you.”
Martin nodded his thanks as he slipped the jacket on. It was still warm from Ernesto. Martin was surprised at the amount of comfort he received from that warmth.
Rain slapped him in the face as he stepped outside. He gripped the railing as he made his way to the stairs and down to the main deck. Two of the crewmen were walking along the aft deck, so Martin headed to the foredeck. Dozens of crates lined the deck, most of them empty. A few crabs stuck in traps eyed him as he walked past. He stepped to the back of the boat. Leaning against the wet railing, he dialed.
Stacy Mal, his assistant, answered the phone quickly. “Who is this? How did you get this number?”
“I gave you this number,” Martin said with a growl.
“Mr. Drummond. My God. Where have you been? I’ve had people searching everywhere for you, but we’ve had no luck at all.”
“That’s because someone tossed me out of a plane.” He swallowed down his anger. “What’s the status of MAURC?”
The worry and concern disappeared from Stacy’s voice as she immediately slipped back into assistant mode. “It’s been rescinded. The facilities at both Edmonds and Antarctica were bombed as scheduled. Satellite imagery indicated that there was no movement at either site. With the threat removed, there was no longer a need for MAURC.”
Martin grunted. Well, at least Matilda no longer had all the might of the U.S. military at her fingertips. “Has she crawled back into her hole?”
“Um, not exactly.”
“What does that mean?”
“R.I.S.E. is acknowledged by all branches of the U.S. military now. They have an official seat at the table.”
“What about Garrigan and the others?”
“The sat photos indicate that they were able to escape the site at Edmonds moments before the blast. They are believed to still be alive, although no one has been able to find them after they left the airfield in Seattle. Satellites were misbehaving for a while after the blast.”
Martin nodded, exhaustion weighing him down. Why couldn’t they all just die the way they were supposed to?
“And there was one additional, unexpected passenger with the Garrigan crew.”
Martin frowned. Who could they have possibly taken with them? A Drago? Why would they take one? To experiment on? To find its weaknesses? But why bother when they already had Adam? “Who?”
“Sammy.”
Martin stilled, his whole body locked in place as fear extended to every single cell in his body. “What?”
Stacy’s voice came out in a rush. “Apparently the Drago had taken him hostage. The Garrigan crew retrieved him. He looked like he was injured. He was loaded onto the plane with the rest of them and was with them when they took off.”
Martin took a deep calming breath. This was too much. Sammy never should’ve escaped Area 51. He was the one creature that was supposed to have stayed locked away. Martin would’ve been happier if the Drago had taken him and kept him. At least then he’d know that the creature would be tortured for years to come. But once again, Leander and her people had ruined that possibility.
“I need you to find Maeve Leander and the others. There must be some trace of them.”
“I have everybody working on it already. It’s only a matter of time.”
Martin ignored the empty platitudes. “Send a chopper to my location. I expect it within the hour.”
“Yes, sir.” Stacy paused before she blurted, “We all thought you were dead, sir.”
“Get to work.”
Martin disconnected the call. He stared out at the choppy water. Leander and the hybrid were alive. And they now had Sammy with them.
We all thought you were dead.
Martin gripped the railing. He stared out at the water, just able to make out the coast in the distance. No, he wasn’t dead. And that was their mistake. That small burst of compassion would be their undoing.
The rain picked up its pace, lashing at him. But I won’t make that mistake. Compassion has never been an issue with me.
Chapter Two
Halifax, Canada
Dr. Maeve Leander was tired. Her group of ten had traveled through Canada, mostly by car, for the last seven days. They’d tried to travel mainly at night, switching out drivers in their two-car caravan. The problem had been with Sammy. They couldn’t risk anyone checking the back of the truck and seeing him, so they’d traveled at the speed limit.
Today, they’d finally made it to the eastern coast of Canada. There, Jasper had a connection that provided them with the plane for the next leg of the journey. Maeve had been sleeping before they’d arrived at the coast, so she was one of the only ones who was wide awake as the plane took off. Everyone else fell asleep almost immediately after they were in the air. The tension of the trip seemed to drain the energy from all of them.
Maeve walked to the back of the plane where Sammy lay. He was laid out in the cargo hold. At seven feet tall, with a ten-foot wingspan, it was the only place where he could lie comfortably.
He appeared to be sleeping on the stacks of blankets they’d piled up to make a nest.
Maeve moved forward quietly. She crouched down and pressed two fingers against the side of his throat. His pulse pounded away beneath her touch, speeding along at a faster pace than that of humans. But from what her and Greg could tell, this was his normal rate.
He was sedated to try and keep him from tearing at his bandages. They still weren’t sure how exactly to talk to him. He didn’t communicate with any of them in any discernible way, although Maeve was pretty sure that he understood them.
Sammy’s eyes flickered open, and dark slits watched her. She gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “Looks good. You’re healing nicely. Those bandages will be off in another week or so.”
Sammy watched for another long moment before he closed his eyes. Maeve let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. She wasn’t sure what the situation with Sammy was. Alvie trusted him. Luke, Iggy, and Snap did as well. But they were all essentially children. She wasn’t sure how much stock she should put in their views.
But as Greg pointed out, children were always the best judges of character.
Maeve made her way back into the cabin. Everyone was sprawled out. The blanket over Nora and Iggy had fallen to the ground. Maeve picked it up and tucked it back around them. Iggy opened his eyes and gave a big yawn. His pointed ears wiggled with the motion. “Ig.” He closed his eyes again with a sigh.
Maeve smiled at the little Maldek. It was hard not to love him. Nora and Iggy had a bond that was incredibly strong. And absolutely amazing, especially being Nora was a former D.E.A.D. agent.
Falling under the Department of Defense, the D.E.A.D. had been created in the aftermath of the meltdown of the A.L.I.V.E. cases at Area 51. Their mandate was to track down all the A.L.I.V.E. escapees from Area 51, and according to Nora, kill them. But when it came to Iggy, she couldn’t pull the trigger, which was what led her to Maeve and the rest of them. And which was also what put her life on the line and her on the run. But Maeve knew if given the same choice again, she wouldn’t change a thing.
Just like Maeve wouldn’t.
Maeve continued up to the cabin. Chris was two rows up from Nora with Alvie and Snap snuggled into his sides, one hand resting protectively on each of them.
She was happy to see him sleeping. It had been a rare thing for him this last week. She knew he felt guilty for what had happened to Crackle and Pop. She’d told him over and over again it wasn’t his fault. But he couldn’t seem to accept it. Now he was hypervigilant when it came to Snap and Alvie.
The last two of their group in the cabin were Jasper Jenkins and Mike Bileris, both R.I.S.E. operatives. Jasper and Mike had risked everything to save Maeve, Greg, Alvie, Snap, and Luke in Washington. And without them and their resourcefulness, Maeve knew they wouldn’t have made it this far.
Greg was in the last row, an arm thrown over his head. Sandra and Luke Gillibrand had taken the last two rows and were each sprawled out. Maeve hoped they were all getting a good night’s sleep. God knew, they all needed one.
Jasper and Mike sat near the front, engrossed in a chess game. They didn’t look up as Maeve passed by. She stepped into the cockpit and closed the door quietly behind her.
Adam Watson glanced over his shoulder at her before turning his attention back to the controls. She didn’t let his silence deter her. She’d gotten used to Adam’s quietness. He wasn’t unfriendly. He just quite simply didn’t talk unless he viewed it as necessary.
She took a seat in the copilot seat, careful not to touch anything. “How are you feeling? Are you tired? Should I get you a coffee?”
Shaking his head, Adam adjusted a dial on the control panel. “No. I’m fine. Thank you. Is everyone sleeping?”
“All but Jasper and Mike. They’re playing chess again.”
Adam made no response, and Maeve felt no need to fill the silence. She just sat with him as she watched the clouds fly by. When she was a kid, she had never once been on a plane, despite essentially living on Wright-Patterson Air Force Base. With her mom and Alvie, vacations simply weren’t an option. She and her mother never left Wright-Pat.
But over the last couple of years, she’d been rushed in and out of planes across the country. And now she was rushing across the globe.
And that was by far the least unusual change the last few years had brought her.
She glanced over the control panel, not knowing what any of the instruments indicated. The only one that was even slightly familiar was the compass. They were heading west.
“Do we have a specific destination in mind, or are we just hoping for the best?”
Adam glanced at her from the corner of his eye. She could tell he was deciding whether or not to trust her with the truth. Sharing secrets was not something Adam did easily, and Maeve wasn’t going to push him. Adam was a Drago, yet he had proven his loyalty to the rest of them time and time again. Maeve had lost count of how many times he had saved people’s lives. And if he thought keeping their destination secret was the best plan, then she was okay with it too.
“We’re going to my home.”
Surprise flashed through Maeve. She knew that Adam had been alive for hundreds of years, so “home” could have a variety of interpretations for him. “What does that mean?”
A rare smile crossed Adam’s face. “You’ve heard the story of my time with the Drago?”
Maeve hadn’t been on the plane when Adam’s nature had been revealed to the rest of the group. Chris had explained it to her shortly after their rescue from Edmonds. Maeve had never discussed it directly with Adam, though.
“You were born among the Drago. And you and your sister fought. You refused to kill her, and so they thought that you did not have a cold enough heart to be the leader of the Drago.”
“Yes, that’s true. I was beaten. I was chased. I threw myself into a river as a last desperate attempt to escape.”
“How old were you?”
“About four or five.”
