Alex sat alone in the far corner of the mess hall. Cheyenne Mountain had returned to life. The cafeteria was full of men and women, most of them new to the facility. They gathered around tables and spoke lively to one another while they ate. It was as if Kansas City had never happened, as if the Directorate hadn’t deserted Topeka and fled into the night. Was she the only one holding onto the deaths of one thousand eight hundred and fifty-seven people? If so, she had no idea what to do with that knowledge and guilt. She had no one to talk to, no one she could trust. All she had were the dreams, the nightmares that faded in the morning but left her cold and sweaty.

“Food’s the same as ever,” Alex overheard someone say.

Another officer laughed. “I was starting to miss the mystery meat.”

“Better than MREs, at least.”

“Not so sure about that.”

One of the men noticed her watching. Alex looked away.

She had been in the mountain for three days, coming as one of the early arrivals along with Harrison and most of the command personnel from Peterson. The junior officers, enlisted, and other support staff trickled in day-by-day. The restoration crews had repaired the damage from Webb’s escape and had even constructed new containerized housing units along the outskirts of the tunnels and caverns. Her downgraded security clearance no longer allowed her access to the command and operations floors at the center of the complex, but she had heard that new computers and mainframes, high-definition screens, and other high-tech systems now stood in place of the decades-old Cold War-era technology. Sergeant Paul had described the equipment in detail the day before, excited to begin testing the new equipment.

The one thing that hadn’t changed in the Cheyenne Mountain Operations Complex, however, was the food. Alex eyed her tray cautiously. It was just as the men nearby had said. A dome of white, chunky paste that had once supposedly been a potato sat in one section of her tray. Murky brown gravy covered the potatoes and served as the only source of taste. In the other corner of the tray was a thin slice of breaded meat between two buns. Alex rarely tried to guess where the meat had come from.

As she poked at the food, she glanced over the Directorate’s latest news leaflet, a small, two-sided piece of paper. The main article’s headline read: News from the Front – General Park and 2nd Armored Brigade Combat Team Halt NEA Advance. She read the column, picking out tidbits here and there.

01 November 2032.

Following the Battle of Kansas City, lines have stabilized east of Salina, Kansas. The arrival of Brig. Gen. Park and the 2nd Armored BCT allowed for the safe evacuation of support forces and civilians from the Topeka Reclamation Outpost…

Although our soldiers demonstrated outstanding bravery in their efforts to prevent the NEA from reaching Kansas City, our forces withdrew from the area in an attempt to prevent civilian casualties and avoid damage to critical infrastructure. However, recent imagery reveals that the NEA has destroyed much of Kansas City’s downtown area despite Directorate efforts to preserve the city for future generations…

Recent events only serve to strengthen our resolve to eliminate the NEA aggressors. Brig. Gen. Park stated during a recent teleconference: “We expect to press our advantage and force the NEA back into their territory within days.” Brig. Gen. Harrison, interim commander at the newly reopened Cheyenne Mountain Operations Center, reported that he has attempted to negotiate with the NEA to avoid further loss of life. He reports, however, that the NEA has ignored all communications. “It’s a shame the NEA government is willing to waste its soldiers in its futile attempts to destroy our way of life, but the Directorate will do what is necessary to protect itself.”

Alex returned the leaflet to the middle of the table. She knew it was propaganda designed to keep up morale, but the omissions and outright lies seemed like an insult to those who had lost their lives during the fighting.

She finished eating and got up to leave. A sign in the corridor outside the mess hall pointed the way to the medical center and her father. The rebuilt infirmary was only a few hallways away. Doctor Reilly and her medical team had flown in Bedford from Peterson a day before. He was now the only patient in the facility’s ICU.

She passed dozens of men and women in the corridors. Few of them paid her any attention. To most of them, she was an unfamiliar face. Many of the people she had grown up around in the mountain had died during Webb’s escape. Even more of them had transferred to the front lines of the war. She wasn’t sure if she preferred her newfound anonymity. Part of her missed the smiles and words of greeting, but she also doubted she could stand such kindness after Kansas City.

Alex withdrew her ID when she reached the medical wing. She showed the card to the guard on duty, who nodded and opened the door. The facility was pristine with floors polished to a mirror finish and sparkling equipment that looked like it had been built only days earlier. The ICU stood separate from the rest of the infirmary. Her father occupied his own room partitioned off by a sliding door and glass walls. Blinds along the inside of the room screened the interior from viewers outside. She entered her key code, and the door slid open.

The sight was the same as always. Despite the new facility and the shiny equipment, her father remained unconscious, hooked up to feeding tubes and IV lines. His face was gaunt, the eyes sunken in their sockets, and his pale skin was pulled tight against his skull. Alex sat on a chair beside the bed. She took her father’s hand and held it.

She thought back to her conversation with Doctor Samantha Reilly, the Directorate’s chief medical officer, the day before.

We’ve started him on a new treatment, Reilly had said. He’s showing real signs of improvement. However, there’s only so much we can do. Your father has to help us the rest of the way.

How? she asked.

If he’s still in there, he needs to fight.

“I know you’re there,” she whispered. “Just come back.”

Alex remained at the bedside, holding her father’s hand. The blinds across the glass and the dim lighting in the room made her feel claustrophobic. It was not a sensation unique to the medical center. The rest of the facility evoked the same strange feeling as if the walls were closing in to trap her forever inside the mountain. After living at Peterson, where she had been able to walk outside in the fresh air, see the sky, and feel the sun and rain and cool breeze, the mountain was a jarring change. What’s it like for Dad? she wondered, squeezing his hand gently. Is he dreaming? Is it just nothing? Darkness?

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

She got up and set his hand back at his side. She could no longer stand the beeping EKG and the gasping respirators. She needed to get out of the room, to find somewhere open where she could at least imagine she was free instead of in prison. She went to the door and lingered for a moment. “Bye, Dad. I’ll come back tomorrow.”

She left the room and started out of the medical center but then heard a familiar voice. Alex looked around and saw Doctor Reilly standing near one of the operating rooms. And next to her, wearing black fatigues and with his handgun holstered at his side, stood Agent Ellzey.

Alex and Ellzey spotted each other at the same moment. Reilly followed Ellzey’s gaze and smiled at Alex.

“Hey, kid!” Reilly waved. “It’s been a while.”

Alex looked at Ellzey, but he said nothing.

“How are you feeling?” Reilly said. “Any pain in your side?”

Alex shook her head. “I think everything’s finally healed.”

“Well, that’s good to hear. I think you know Agent Ellzey?”

Before Alex could respond, Ellzey broke in, “Ms. Bedford and I are good friends. We’ve worked together on a number of occasions. Thank you for the tour, Doctor. I don’t want to keep you from your duties any longer. If I have any questions, I’ll be sure to come find you.”

“Of course. Have a nice day, Agent Ellzey. You, too, Alex.”

Reilly left. As soon as the doctor was out of earshot, Alex said, “Why are you here?”

“The Committee devoted a great many resources to repairing this facility. I’m merely making sure those resources were used… responsibly. And why are you here? Checking in on your dear old dad?”

“Why isn’t he awake yet?”

“I’m not a medical professional. Perhaps you should ask Doctor Reilly.”

“Don’t give me that shit,” her voice was low and deadly. “The Committee promised they would take care of my dad if I cooperated. I gave Harrison those stars just like you wanted. I’ve followed everyone’s orders. I let you take me off the team. I want my dad back. Now.”

“Well, I’ll be sure to pass that on to—”

Alex meant to shout at Ellzey, to perhaps even hit or slap him. She noticed something at the edges of her vision: a creeping darkness, blackish-red roots or veins expanding in toward her pupils. Then the world flashed red and she heard a crash before her vision cleared. The first thing she saw was Ellzey sprawled on the floor. His hand went to his weapon and he began to draw on instinct. Then he stopped. He stared at her and pushed the gun back into his holster. Slowly, he got to his feet.

Alex backed away. It had happened so quickly she had been unable to stop or even control it. “I… I didn’t—”

“Didn’t what?” Ellzey snarled. “You complain about the Committee taking away your team, but you can’t even control yourself in Cheyenne Mountain. I’d ask what you think would happen on a battlefield, but I think you and I are both well aware.”

“I’m sorry.” It was the first time she had apologized to Ellzey. She was surprised to realize she was sincere.

Ellzey snorted and brushed at his uniform. “You should be glad the Committee has such a vested interest in you. But I’ll say this: that’s the last time you’ll attack me without repercussions.”

He turned to leave but Alex called after him, “Wait.” Ellzey looked back with irritation. “What about my dad?”

“We started his treatment as soon as he arrived in this facility. If it has the desired effect, he’ll wake up in a few days. Does that work for you, Ms. Bedford?”

“Will he be awake by the time the team gets back?” She had imagined bringing Shepherd with her to the medical center. She would tell her father about their relationship, as new as it was. She hoped he wouldn’t be angry, that he would be happy for her, just as Lunde had said. But how would he react to the news of Kansas City? Everyone who knew the truth, save for Ellzey and Harrison, had told her it wasn’t her fault, that she hadn’t been in control, that she wasn’t to blame. But she always noticed something in their eyes, deeper and unspoken. Even with Shepherd, there was that look of uncertainty.

It took Alex a moment to realize Ellzey was looking at her strangely.

“So you haven’t heard,” he said in an amused voice.

She felt cold. “What?”

“The Directorate lost contact with your team two days ago. They’re listed as MIA. I suppose telling you must have slipped General Harrison’s mind.”

“Where is he?”

“In his office, I imagine. I think you know the way there.”

Alex brushed past Ellzey and ran out the door.

She barged into the office without knocking. The sign on the door no longer showed her father’s name. Instead, it read, “Brig Gen Alan Harrison.” Then the door was behind her and swung shut with a slam. Harrison sat behind her father’s old desk. His jacket hung from the back of the chair, and a thick report lay open in front of him. Her father’s pictures and books were gone. Alex had taken custody of some of the items but most now waited in storage. The picture with her mother now stood beneath the framed oil painting in her room. The one thing Harrison has kept was the model of the Valkyrie.

Harrison gave her a weary look. He was beginning to resemble Lunde. There were dark rings under his eyes, and his skin was much paler than his normal tan. How did Dad do it for so long?

“Is there something I can do for you?” His voice was tired, and he sounded almost disinterested in her presence.

She was still short of breath after sprinting from the medical center. “My… My team. They’re MIA.”

“Yes.” Harrison looked back down at his report. “Is there anything else?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You’re no longer cleared for information regarding their activities.”

“Tell me what happened.”

Harrison looked at her again. “We don’t know. We were in contact with Captain Shepherd until two days ago. We haven’t heard from him or anyone else on the team since.”

“Where are they?”

“We don’t know.”

“Well, where did you send them?”

“You’re not—”

“No!” She advanced on Harrison and planted her hands on the edge of the desk. She felt a faint pulse between her eyes. The office darkened. Harrison flinched but remained in his seat, staring back at her. For a moment, she felt as though the desk, the room, and the entire facility were all as fragile as glass and that she could break everything apart with a single strike of her fist.

Calm down. Stay in control. Don’t do anything you’ll regret.

She stepped back and took a deep breath. “Please. I need to know.”

“Why?”

“They’re my team,” she said quietly.

“What would you do with the information?”

“I… I don’t know.”

“We’ve done all that we can. They might be fine. Their communications equipment might have broken down, and they might have decided to continue the mission anyway.”

“Then why are they listed as MIA?”

“Who told you that?”

“Agent Ellzey.”

“I’ve said all I know. If the situation changes—”

“Send me out. Put me on another team. I can go after them.”

“I have orders from the Committee to keep you in this facility. I am not going to risk sending you out and having another Kansas City.”

“You can’t keep me here.”

“Would you like to know what I find interesting? When I went to alter your security clearance, I found you never had one. You’ve never had the privilege to come and go as you please. In fact, the guards have instructions to keep you in this facility unless you’re accompanied by a select few individuals. This was all put in place years ago before your father’s coma. So, who do you think gave those orders?”

Alex didn’t reply.

Harrison continued, “Even your father realized you were dangerous. General Lunde may have let you off the leash but I’m not going to permit it. You will not leave this facility unless I specifically give you permission. Is that understood?”

Alex again remained silent but Harrison pressed, “I said, ‘is that understood?’”

“Fine.” Alex turned and went to the door. Then she looked back. “You’re nothing like my dad. You say you care about our men, but you don’t. If you really cared, you’d be doing everything you could to get back Captain Shepherd and the rest of the team. All you are is a… a puppet for the Committee.”

They stared at each other. Then Harrison said simply, “You have a lot to learn about your father.”

Alex left the office and slammed the door. She knew she should return to her room, cool off, and try to think of how she could help Shepherd and the team. But she didn’t want to stop. She wanted to keep moving, to do something, anything other than locking herself in her tiny room. Gene. I can talk to him… maybe… Except Lunde was at Peterson supervising operations until command transferred back to Cheyenne Mountain. There was only one person in the mountain who could help. She stopped, got her bearings, and set off to find Nicole Serrano.