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munitions hijacked in the US. Which meant their terrorist camp here just got a whole
hell of a lot closer to home.
Standing pressed up against the metal-and-concrete wall of Bunker Three, Frank
drew a deep breath and nodded to his diminutive companion. Raising her weapon,
Chelsea indicated that she had him covered. Frank stepped out of the shadows and up to
the bunker door. Removing his universal keycard Walter had given them each one
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before they left New York for the purpose of getting into locked rooms Frank swiped it
through the lock and listened as the tumblers clicked open.
Inching open the door, he squeezed inside and stopped, sucking in a sharp breath.
Gypsy, there s something fucked-up going on around here, he muttered into his
comlink as his eyes scanned the laser bars that enclosed the four corners of the building.
Inside each cage were packed several dozen children
Like cattle in a herding pen, Frank thought in disgust. Whoever was running this
base was one sick bastard. The kids were asleep, thankfully, their small bodies packed
together for warmth and security. They looked bedraggled, dirty, and half-starved. God,
something like this would break Calli s heart; or piss her off. It sure as hell pissed him
off.
Madre de Dios! Chelsea whispered from beside him. Red, we cannot leave
them here!
You re damned right, we re not, Frank growled. But first we ve got to find
out why they re here in the first place. He spotted what looked like the control room
from their reconnaissance photos at the rear of the bunker. C mon. Let s see what we
can find out about these kids.
Nothing, Frank decided five minutes later as he finished downloading and
transmitting the contents of the control room computers, could have prepared him for the
answer. Touching his group comlink, he said, Ace, we got a problem, here.
What problem?
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We found hostages. At last count, there s one hundred-three of them. All kids.
Kids? That was Tamia, fear threading through her voice.
Affirmative. Says here that there s twelve control subjects all adult
supposedly imprisoned somewhere in the compound. These kids all boys are their
clones, best I can figure out. They re in laser cages, and there s a notation in the
computer about administering something called JX482 to a number of them.
We re on our way, Rick said grimly. Watchdog, Hood, where are you?
Laboratory Two, Kelly replied. I m headin out now. Watchdog s already
gone off to set charges.
Affirmative.
The comlink went dead then, and Frank switched back to his fire-team frequency.
C mon, Gypsy. We need to trip those cages and get these kids out of here. Watchdog s
already laying the charges.
She nodded and hurried for the fuse box by the front door. Frank followed,
poking his head out the door to check for the rest of the mission team. Find it?
Red, this circuit is not like most, Chelsea said quietly, her voice full of fear. I
cannot open it.
He came to her side, looking over her head at the fuse box, and swore as he
tapped his group comlink again. Watchdog, for God s sake, don t set the charges on
Bunker Three!
Matt Clipper poked his head in the door just then. Holy shit! C mon, guys, we
gotta get out of here! It s too late; I already set the timer.
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We cannot leave these children! Chelsea shot back, her voice steely with
determination as she wrestled with the delicate, fused circuit. Then, with a small,
triumphant cry, she stepped back as the cage bars dissipated. Quickly, both of you!
Take some children out of here, while I rouse the rest.
Matt and Frank rushed to comply, scooping up three of the smallest children, who
cried in fright at the masked Commandos. Chelsea yanked off her mask as she moved
among the older children, shaking them awake with murmured words in Spanish.
Get a move on, came Kelly s voice through the comlink. Time s almost up.
Frank cleared the door, Matt hard on his heels. As he moved toward the safety of
Kelly s position, a sudden series of blasts sent him flying forward with their concussion,
and he felt the stinging pain of shrapnel imbedding in his back, before the world went
black.
Tamia leaned her head back against the headrest of the EP junglecraft they
borrowed for their mission, and fought back a wave of horror and sorrow. They d been
so close to walking out of Poco Nanches unscathed. Opening her eyes, she looked
toward the medbay, where six unconscious figures lay. Three were children, suffering
from malnutrition and injuries so severe that Tamia was surprised they d lasted this long.
Instinctively, her hand went to her belly, as if to protect her unborn child from the horror
she d witnessed digging through the rubble of that bunker in search of survivors.
Tamia s eyes skimmed the occupants of the other three medbay stretchers, and
her heart clenched in fear. Those were her friends, and none of them were lightly injured.
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Chelsea was, by far, the worst off; she was barely hanging onto life by a thread. Tamia
didn t even want to consider the extent of the other woman s injuries, remembering when
she had been the casualty of an exploding building. It would be no small miracle if
Chelsea survived.
Frank and Matt weren t quite as badly injured, though she wouldn t have been
able to tell from the blood alone. Both men had bled quite a bit, and Kelly speculated
that at least Frank had sustained a concussion from the blast. How bad was anyone s
guess, until they could get him to proper medical facilities back in Rio de Janeiro.
How re you holding up? Tamia turned her head at Rick s quiet query, and
sighed as she saw his grim, worried expression.
I ll be a lot better once we know how bad they really are, she admitted with an
awkward shrug. I think I liked being the injured one more than I like this worrying.
He nodded his understanding as he checked the junglecraft s autopilot settings.
The land-sea vehicles were equipped with automatic flight controls, set to return to the
nearest EP hub when activated.
We ll be there soon, Rick told her, and glanced back toward where Kelly
moved among the stretchers, checking vitals. Talk to me, Kel.
She looked up from one of the kids and sighed, her dark eyes sad. Frank n
Matt are doin fine, all things considered. Two of the little tykes might pull through if
they get to hospital soon. Chelsea s pretty bad, but I think I can keep her stable, for
now. Her expression turned grim. I think we re gonna lose the other little one, though.
I can t get a stable pulse, and I ve had to jolt him twice, now.
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As those words hung in the air, Tamia felt a fist of dread closing around her.
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