Alexandra Bedford felt the cold wind on her face as she opened her eyes. She lay on a folding cot, a brown blanket over her body, the burlap ceiling of a tent above. Men and women in bandages and with tubes snaking up toward hanging IV bags lay on other cots nearby. Most were soldiers wearing Directorate uniforms but a few were civilians just as battered and bloody. Snow drifted into the tent through the open entrance flap.

Two men with rifles and ballistic vests stopped outside the tent. Their uniforms were not the Directorate’s tiger-striped fatigues. The pattern was a blocky arrangement of subdued grey, white, and purple blotches. The uniform of the New England Alliance.

One of the soldiers glanced inside. Then both walked past the entrance. Alex tried to sit once their footsteps went away but then a burning spike drove straight into her skull. The tent and everything inside spun. She shut her eyes and lay back on the cot. The pain dulled. She touched the back of her head and found a lump as wide as her palm. She prodded the bruise and grimaced when her touch produced another fiery jolt.

What happened? Where—

A swelling green orb of fire in the sky. A fluttering aurora of light. Billowing fireballs from artillery. The cramped trench on the ridgeline east of Peterson.

She touched her neck between her collarbones where the cold muzzle of the handgun had pressed against her skin. She had gripped Shepherd’s hands, forcing him to keep the gun in place. She had begged him to shoot her, to kill her before she lost control. And hadn’t he pulled the trigger in that last moment before darkness? Except she couldn’t recall a muzzle flash or a gunshot. Only… a brief but intense pain at the back of her skull in the same spot as the bruise.

Someone knocked me out, but what happened after that? Where is everyone? Where am I? Where’s Ryan?

Alex had no time to consider the questions. Footsteps approached again from outside the tent, preceding the appearance of a woman in a white lab coat. A swirl of snowflakes followed her into the tent. Alex recognized her as Doctor Samantha Reilly. Dark raccoon rings framed her eyes. Reilly hurried to Alex’s cot and knelt.

“Doctor Reilly…?” Alex said.

“Welcome back, hon,” Reilly whispered. Alex again tried to sit but Reilly put a firm hand on her shoulder. “Hold on now. Just stay still. I think you have a mild concussion. I need a CT scan to be sure, but…”

“What’s going on?”

“War’s over.” Reilly’s voice was matter-of-fact but still quiet as if she were afraid someone would overhear. “We lost. You’re at Peterson. We set up a casualty collection point at the airfield.”

So it’s that simple. War’s over. We lost.

Two months ago, the Directorate had been the greatest military force on the continent. Even General John Martin, the man who had once been friends with her father, who had known her mother, whose blood ran through her veins, had acknowledged that the New England Alliance was no match militarily. But things had gone downhill so fast: a snowball tumbling into a cascading avalanche of powder, rocks, and broken trees and bodies.

“How did I get here?”

“Captain Shepherd brought you last night before General Harrison broadcast the surrender order.” Reilly paused and looked out the tent flap. “The NEA’s looking for you. I don’t know what they want but I told Captain Shepherd I’d keep you safe.”

“Where is he?”

“Not far. The NEA has all our men in custody.”

“What about Gene and General Harrison?”

“Rumor is they’re meeting with the NEA.”

Alex thought back to the parking lot outside the headquarters building. Lunde and Martin climbing into the old UH-1 Huey. The helicopter vanishing into the darkness toward Cheyenne Mountain. “And what about my dad?”

“Agent Ellzey came to the medical center a few hours before the EMP. He had orders from the Committee to evacuate your dad. They were already gone by the time I heard about it.”

Alex closed her eyes. Ellzey took Dad to the Reagan. He must have. There’s nowhere else they could go. And if they took Dad, then it can’t be over. The Committee wouldn’t give up while they still have those drones.

“You said the NEA is looking for me?”

“They have a good description of you but no pictures. You’ll be safe here for a little while.”

“What should I do?”

“Stay put for now. I’ll keep trying to get word to General Harrison or General Lunde.”

How much effort would it take to escape Peterson and Colorado Springs? If she used her abilities right, she could… Except then she recalled the ridgeline and her attempt to disable every weapon on the battlefield. Her abilities had failed. But was it only temporary? Or…

She concentrated on the tent’s crossbeam and tried to bring the object into her mind, to force it to appear so she could perceive every dent in the metal and patch of rust.

Nothing happened.

“One more thing.” Reilly took Alex’s right arm and slid back the sweater sleeve. Alex looked. The artery in her wrist was black, plainly visible through her skin – not as prominent as it has been in Washington or outside of Peterson but impossible to miss. “Is this something new?”

“It started yesterday.” She thought back to DC, the attack on the White House, the laceration in her leg that had bled black fluid. So much had happened over the past twenty-four hours. Fort Riley, Washington, the drones, the flight back to Colorado Springs, the crash landing, and her failure to put everything right. “It’s blood… or something. I don’t know.”

“I tried to take a sample,” Reilly said with concern. “Whatever it is, I couldn’t get any out with a needle. I’ve never seen anything like this before. Do you feel all right? Is anything out of the ordinary?”

Ordinary, Alex mused. When was the last time I felt ordinary? But slowly, she shook her head.

“I feel fine. I mean aside from this.” She probed at the bruise on the back of her head.

“Sorry. Wish I had some aspirin to pass, but…”

“I’ll be okay.”

Reilly nodded. “I need to get going. The NEA’s allowing me to do rounds on our people but they’re keeping a close eye. I’ll do what I can to get word to General Lunde.”

Reilly stood and turned to go but then hesitated as Alex said, “Doctor Reilly?”

“Yes?”

Alex looked at her wrist and the black artery beneath her skin. For a moment, she felt as if tiny worms were crawling inside her body. She had felt something similar on the ridgeline while fighting to keep control of her abilities. She pulled her sleeve over her wrist and hid her arm under the blanket. “What’s happening to me?”

“I wish I knew, hon,” Reilly said and then turned to leave.

Voices asserted themselves over the wind outside, accompanying boots crunching through the snow. Three silhouettes arrived outside the tent. Reilly moved to block the entrance.

“Ma’am, we need to check inside.”

“These people are injured,” Reilly said. “They need rest.”

“We’ll be in and out.” The voice was calm and authoritative. It reminded Alex of Shepherd. “Please, move aside.”

“These are my patients. I have authority from your commander to be here. If you come barging in, you—” One of the other soldiers pushed Reilly aside. Reilly moved to block him but the other two soldiers shouldered their way past. Reilly shouted, “This is unacceptable! You have no business here!”

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“Ma’am, calm down,” the first soldier said. His nametape and rank identified him as a Sergeant First Class Carter. “This is only—”

Reilly grabbed the handguard of Carter’s slung M4 carbine and tried to shove him outside. Carter’s reaction was fast and violent. He slammed Reilly back and shouldered the carbine. A metallic click signaled the weapon’s shift from safe to semiautomatic. One of the other soldiers grabbed Reilly and pushed her to the ground

“Stop.”

The men went still.

Alex was at first unaware she was sitting and that it was her voice that had spoken the command. Reilly, Carter, and the other NEA soldiers looked at her in surprise. Alex pushed the blanket away and swung her legs off the cot. A nail drove itself back and forth through her skull with each movement. She tried to ignore the discomfort and the dizziness. “I’m Alexandra Bedford. You came here looking for me, right?”

Carter stared at Alex, then at his carbine, then back. His calm and authority were gone. He looked like a nervous child despite his weapon and body armor. The soldier kneeling beside Reilly backed away and almost stumbled over an empty cot. He held onto his weapon with both hands but did not raise it to point at Alex.

“I’m not going to hurt anyone. I don’t want any more trouble. I’ll cooperate.”

Reilly moved to Alex’s side and peered into her eyes. Reilly’s features blurred and resolved. A black spot shifted within Alex’s vision, seemingly hanging in front of Reilly as if someone had marked her cornea with the tip of a permanent marker. Every attempt to focus past the blot tightened a vice around Alex’s temples. Again, she felt like something was crawling beneath her skin.

“You need to lie down,” Reilly said. “You’re white as a sheet.”

Alex looked at the three soldiers. “Tell me why you’re here.”

“Orders,” Carter answered in a shaky voice. “The colonel. We’re supposed to take you into custody.”

“Colonel Webb?”

“Yes.”

“Is he here?”

“No. This area isn’t a high priority. They didn’t think we’d find you here. It was just… We were just…”

Should have just shut up and stayed calm, girl, Alex thought ironically. They probably wouldn’t have even noticed you here.

“Look,” Alex said as she squeezed her eyes shut and massaged her forehead. Perspiration dripped from her brow, and her voice sounded hollow and tired. “I said I wasn’t going to hurt anyone. Just do what you need to do. I don’t know what they told you about me but you don’t have to worry.” She hoped that was true; after Kansas, Washington, and the battle the night before, she was no longer certain how much control she had over her abilities.

“Right,” Carter said and gestured at his companions. “Stay here. I’ll radio this in.” Carter hurried outside. The two soldiers retreated into the corner of the tent as if to hide in the shadows.

Alex leaned forward and rested her elbows on her knees, still massaging her temples. Reilly sat next to her but kept silent. Slowly, the pain receded into a dull pressure between her eyes. The inkblot in her vision disappeared as well. She looked around the tent. Carter stood at the entrance while the other two soldiers remained in the far corner. Other people were looking at her as well: the wounded men and women on the other cots. No one spoke but the tension was palpable.

“Sorry, kid,” Reilly said. “Lots of help I was.”

“I’ll be okay.”

“Just be careful. After what we just did…”

“What do you mean?”

“We attacked New York. The Valkyrie. Everything’s gone.”

Alex heard Reilly but the words were far away as if her mind wanted to flee from hearing them. Reilly’s voice carried immense echoes of sadness, a sense of loss. Alex stared at the ground in a futile attempt to hide the tears forming in her eyes. The tent jostled from a gust of cold wind, which entered the tent and chilled Alex’s face.

The cold brought back the memories of New York, of her disembarking from the Stryker and looking up at the support towers of the George Washington Bridge. All those skyscrapers in the distance. Rundown buildings covered in dirt and grime and creeping vines. The empty roads hosting derelict cars eaten away by decades of rust and neglect. But in its own way, the city retained a majestic beauty. And something more. The potential for everything to return. New York could once again have become a shining gem full of life and movement. That dream had inspired her to join Echo Team, had given her the strength to make it through all the grueling training and ultimately go into harm’s way. The Directorate’s mission was to restore those cities. But now they had destroyed Washington and New York, and before that, she alone had annihilated Kansas City.

Tires screeched outside. Alex recognized the familiar growl of a Humvee’s engine. Carter left the tent and said anxiously, “Sir, we found her. In there. It’s her.”

A door opened and slammed shut. The engine shut off. A new figure appeared outside the tent. Not Colonel Webb but a captain, unarmed and unarmored wearing only fatigues. He looked at the two other soldiers and then at Reilly before his gaze settled on Alex.

“Alexandra Bedford?”

Alex nodded.

“I’m Captain Josh Whitfield. I need you to come with me.”

Alex stood. The tent seemed to shift as if she were on a boat in a storm. She moved from the cot but then stumbled and lost her balance. Reilly caught her before she could fall. She waited for the vertigo to pass and then nodded to Reilley. They went to the door and followed Whitfield outside.

Snowflakes melted against Alex’s face and hair. Her breath ascended in the cold and fled with the breeze. They were on the northern edge of the Peterson flight line. Tents stood in neat rows down the apron. Hastily arranged chain-link fences surrounded the area. NEA soldiers patrolled in small groups while the Directorate’s troops, unarmed and unarmored, watched with resigned expressions. A gust drove snow into Alex’s vision and causing her to turn and see the waiting Humvee.

Colonel Aaron Webb sat in the back of the vehicle. His skin had lost its tan and was now an anemic white. The artificial membrane atop his skull has swollen, the contours of his brain pushing out against the rubbery skin. Blood peppered the front of his uniform. The red blotches blended with the camouflage. Alex stopped at the open window.

“Get in,” Webb said.

“Promise me you’re not going to do anything to Doctor Reilly.”

Webb slowly turned to look out the window and then leaned his head back against the seat. “Fine. I don’t really care. Whatever you want.” He sounded tired and wasted.

What happened to him? she wondered but then her voice answered: It was you. What else could it be? You saw him before you were knocked out in that trench. He was worse off than you were.

Reilly touched Alex’s shoulder. “You be careful.”

“I’ll be okay,” she said before circling to the opposite side of the Humvee and climbing inside next to Webb. Whitfield remained outside and gestured for Reilly and the NEA soldiers to move along.

“Have you heard?” Webb said.

“Heard what?”

“Have you heard that your forces surrendered?” Alex didn’t answer. His voice carried a menacing undercurrent that made her edge away and glance at the door handle. Finally, he turned to stare at her. The subtle lights behind the black membrane merged into two glowing orbs. “Have you heard your bomber shot a nuke at New York City? The bomber you could have stopped.”

“I couldn’t have done anything. You were right next to me. It wouldn’t have worked.”

“You could have tried!” Webb shouted and leaned close to Alex, forcing her to stare into the beads of light, to smell the sickly odor on his breath, the dry traces of dust and dirt on his uniform, and the faint metallic scent of blood from the night before. “God damn it, you could have done something!”

She wanted to slap him, to strike him in the side of the head where Nicole’s bullet had torn a shallow path at Fort Riley. Except even with the darkness covering his face, she perceived the sorrow and sense of loss they both shared. New York City was gone. “I… I’m sorry. I didn’t want any of this. I know it doesn’t mean anything to you, but… nothing could justify what we did.”

Webb sank back into his seat. Neither of them spoke. Alex felt like she was asleep and dreaming, that everything going back to New York was a nightmare that she could wake up from if she only forced herself to open her eyes. War’s over, Reilly’s voice repeated in her mind. We lost.

And what happens now? Even if Dad and the Committee are still out there somewhere. What happens to the rest of us?

“Where are General Lunde and General Martin?”

“They made it to Cheyenne Mountain and recalled your bomber before it blew up another one of our cities. Your Committee shut down the power to try to keep that from happening. They tried to force us into a nuclear war.”

“Why didn’t you launch at us?”

“Our entire military is committed to this operation. If we launched on Colorado Springs, we would kill more of our people than yours. You also surrendered before President Resnick had the chance to consider… other options.”

Webb seemed about to say something else but then he grimaced and raised a hand to his forehead. He turned away from Alex and leaned his head toward his knees. Blood dripped from his nose to the floor. “What happened out there?” she said softly.

“You tell me. I woke up in the back of an APC. My men told me they found me in that trench with a group of your soldiers. You and Captain Shepherd were gone. I tracked Shepherd to one of the hangars we’re using to hold your people. I’m sure he knew exactly where you were but he wouldn’t tell me anything.”

“Is he all right?”

“He’s fine. So is the rest of your team. General Park transferred them here this morning.”

“What about Nicole?”

Webb absently pressed his palm against the bullet wound on the side of his head. “She’s… stable.”

“Is she awake?”

“She’s sedated.”

“When are you going to wake her up?”

“That isn’t my decision. I want to know what happened in that trench. What did you do?”

“Nothing. I was close. It was all right there. I saw all the weapons, the guns… everything. Then I lost it. I saw things. Antarctica. I don’t know. I tried to focus again but it wouldn’t work. It felt like something was taking over. I told Ryan – Captain Shepherd – to shoot me. Then someone hit me and that’s all I remember.”

“Wouldn’t work? What do you mean?”

“I tried to focus but nothing came. I tried a few minutes ago. It’s still not working.”

“You’re still a priority target as far as we’re concerned.”

“What?”

“You’re one of our top priorities – you and your father and the members of the Committee. President Resnick wasn’t happy when he heard we brought you to Colorado. He wants you locked down.”

“I’m not a threat even if my abilities were working. I wouldn’t… You don’t have to worry about me.”

“Do you honestly believe that? You just said you felt like something was taking over back in that trench. Can you really say you’re in control?”

Captain Whitfield approached the Humvee door next to Webb. “Sir, I just got word from Cheyenne Mountain.”

“What is it?”

Whitfield looked at Alex and then went on. “General Martin needs you and Ms. Bedford to the mountain. There’s a transmission going out over all bands.”

“What transmission?”

“It’s General Bedford. He’s ordering the Directorate to keep fighting.”