Depraved by Trent Evans
Chapter 33
Anson found his companions, along with Private Hughes, clustered around Jon’s rover, a large area paper map—a curious anachronism—laid out across the hood.
As soon as he’d left Petra’s tent, he’d assigned Lieutenant Nichols to both watch over her, and to get the rest of the men assembled, geared up, and ready to move out at a moment’s notice.
Whatever else was about to go down, it was liable to start sooner rather than later.
But the very first thing that was going to happen, was he was going to get Beckett Carter.
Even if it killed Anson in the process.
“How…how is she?” Yulia asked, laying a hand on his arm. “Grif told us already. You… you look like you’re ready to kill someone.”
“Not far off,” he muttered, pleading with himself inside to keep it cool. The men needed him to stay calm.
And so does Yulia.
“It’s… she’s busted up pretty badly. But she’ll mend. Stable and resting.” He scowled at the map of the Fen laid out on the rover. “This… isn’t going to help us much.”
“Why not?” Yulia asked. “Tom thought we might be able to use some of the men to infiltrate back into Gamma, see what’s going on.”
Anson shook his head. “Once we trip the outer perimeter sensor arrays, they’ll see us coming—and be ready. That’s a deathtrap.” He looked around at his gathered companions. “There’s something else, too. Beckett… he’s there.”
“At Gamma?” Lyssa’s mouth dropped open. “How…?”
“I’m guessing that’s the reason for the officer purge. And if he and Petra were there, that likely means he’s in open command now rather than using Harling as his patsy. We’ve… got to assume the entire base is compromised now.”
“Shit…” Tom muttered, looking down.
“Yeah, yeah, that about says it,” Anson said, bitterly. “Look, we can’t approach Gamma, and we can’t risk moving out from our bivouac. We’re sitting ducks here, just waiting to be mopped up whenever Beckett decides to get curious about where the loyalists Harling expelled from the base may have gone to.”
“But I know one thing,” Anson reached over the hood, and stabbed a finger down on the base on the map. “That’s where Beckett is—right goddamn now. It’s a golden opportunity, one we’re unlikely to ever get again. Which means I’ve got no choice but to go after him now that we’ve zeroed in on him. But we’ve got no way to get him—without it getting bloody. Really fucking bloody.”
“And even if we do get him,” Lyssa murmured. “All we can do is bring him back here.” She looked around, pointedly. “Huddled under the trees, just waiting to get splatted by Harling’s patrols.”
“Or TSS deciding to actually show up again,” Tom said. “This is fucked.”
“Maybe not.” Yulia’s voice was soft, but clear. “We need Gamma, and we want Beckett, right?”
“That’s the size of it, yeah,” Anson said, tilting his head slightly as he watched her.
It was a welcome sight to see her like that, to witness her grow into being more comfortable with command, with making the hard decisions.
She was right, though; she wasn’t a natural leader. But he was right, too, in that she did have her dad in her.
A lot of him.
And that gave Anson courage, no matter how black the situation seemed at that moment. Which was precisely the quality that real leaders had.
“What if we had a way to get Beckett, and take Gamma both?”
“I’d say that’d be quite the trick, Yulia.” Anson scratched his chin. “You got a battalion or two of hard hitting, pissed-off grunts you’ve been hiding in your back pocket?”
“Nope.” She glanced at Jon, then back at him. “But I’ve got…a plan.”
Her newly-minted HKU bodyguard seemed as dubious as he was, but Jon stayed silent.
Anson frowned. “I get the feeling I’m not going to approve of this…plan.”
“No, you’re not.” She took a breath. “Because it involves Jon—taking me to Gamma.”
Tom whistled softly, Lyssa shaking her head.
“Oh, this has got to be good. Do your worst, Yulia.” Anson crossed his arms over his chest, smiling at her despite the cold dread sinking deep in his belly. He lowered his voice for effect. “Or should I say, Commander Wyndham.”