PART TWENTY EIGHT

Tess trudged through wet leaves and mud at the base of the trail, pulling the hood of her raincoat more tightly over her head. Raindrops slipped down her nose, her cheeks—there was essentially no part of her that wasn’t soaked, except perhaps her long braid, which dangled snuggly in the back of her hood.

She began her patrol by tracking the trail along the highway, lifting her night vision binoculars to study the terrain beyond the perimeter. Absolutely nothing registered, just the still road past the trees, and yet…she shivered. It was the familiar sensation she often felt at this time of night, only stronger somehow.

Why had that dream come tonight, she wondered again…and was the timing significant? She was thankful she’d mentioned it to Serena before heading out on her shift—appreciative that she’d sent Michael out in addition to Ari and herself. At least that meant there was one more pair of eyes on alert down here, and somehow it made her feel a little less spooked. And she’d also been relieved when Serena had immediately put them all on alert, which meant their security measures had instantly been stepped up several notches. Everyone would sleep fully clothed, prepared to move in an instant if necessary, and weapons were fully on ready.

It might only have been a strange quirk in her sleep pattern, she couldn’t be sure—but if not, at least they were prepared for whatever threat lay ahead.

***

Marco stood at attention beside Nicholas in the small wooded clearing, blinking back the rain that kept rolling into his eyes. There were eight of them gathered for the assault, and Nicholas’s eyes danced with a glint that made Marco’s stomach churn anxiously. There was a fire and determination in them that Marco rarely saw—because Nicholas didn’t seem passionate about much of anything apart from the empty sex he got from Lonnie, and his pursuit of Max Evans.

Too much glee danced in his dark gaze, and Marco could see it even in the thick blackness surrounding them all.

"So, thanks to McKinley, we’ve learned the terrain…and each of you knows how to head in," Nicholas explained with a smirk, his eyes darting among the soldiers who surrounded him.

"Keep in mind, they patrol just like we do," Marco interjected, already covering his tracks for what he had planned. "So be alert as you head in."

"And get to the top as quickly as possible without being detected," Nicholas admonished, wiping rain off his brow. "I’ll run the show from there. And just remember…Max Evans comes to me alive no matter what."

Marco’s stomach lurched a little at Nicholas’s words, and he prayed that his plan wouldn’t fail.

*****

Marco moved easily through the trees that lined the roadside, followed closely by his assigned partner, Lucas—a hard man, whose idea of a fun afternoon was watching dog fights for pleasure…the kind of man who would take slow and delicious pleasure in killing anyone from within the resistance. Yet, even knowing that, Marco despised taking any life—no matter how seemingly worthless-- and his heartbeat in quick spasms at his impending duty. An AK-47 was slung over his left shoulder, and he had a small pistol with a silencer in his belt. His pocket held a small alien weapon, the K-3 Luminator, but that was for later.

He marched steadily forward, pressing back dangling tree limbs with his right hand, while he carefully eased his pistol out of its holster along his waist with his left. His movements were silent, undetectable, so that when he turned fully into Lucas’s face, his gun was already cocked.

Lucas’s mouth opened, working mutely and his eyes grew wide with shock as Marco fired the gun into his chest at close range, begging silent forgiveness of his enemy…shutting his intuition down like a steel barrier, so that the pain and death wouldn’t overwhelm him. He watched as Lucas slumped to the cold, wet earth, then moved on without looking back.

***

Tess stared at her hiking boots, noting the way richly colored mud had stained their usual blackness. There seemed so little point in standing out here in a driving rain—so cold that ice had begun coating the tree branches around her—and yet she couldn’t forget her dream. She felt guilty that Michael was somewhere out here on patrol, especially since it had been based on such a thin thread of evidence.

But the dream had been so vivid, so real, and with as many times as Marco had appeared in her dreams, he’d never warned her of anything. It seemed like something of an omen, if nothing else.

She resumed her paces, hoping she and Michael might meet on the trail since there was one point on the perimeter where their assigned patrols did intersect. She sighed heavily, and then drew in a deep, burning breath of the wintry air.

And when she did she caught a strange scent—several really, diluted and muted by the thick rainfall—and the hair on the nape of her neck stood on end. She wasn’t just sensing unseen eyes anymore; she was truly detecting other beings. People. She was about to radio the others, when she heard the sharp snap of a twig just behind her. She whirled in one motion, fumbling for her weapon where it was holstered at her waist, when a large hand clamped over her mouth, and another arm grappled her against a strong chest.

Her dream, she thought in panic and ecstasy as he lowered his mouth to her ear. "Tess, sweetheart, don’t say a word, just listen." Marco. His throaty, beautiful voice. She whimpered slightly as he held her tight against his chest, his lips right against her ear as he dropped his hand away from her mouth. Goose bumps formed on her arms at the feel of his body against her own.

"I’m sorry…I didn’t want you to cry out," he breathed. "You’re all in grave danger. Nicholas is here for Max at all costs. You must radio Serena…she has to get him out of there now."

Tess nodded in silent agreement, as his mouth pressed closer against her ear—so close, she could feel his warm breath fan against her cheek. "You never saw me…whatever happens, consider me a traitor."

A muffled cry escaped her lips, and she wrestled against his firm chest, trying to turn. Yet he wouldn’t allow her to yield. "I know you’re not…"

"Just radio them now," he breathed, cutting her off. "The enemy doesn’t know about the lake or the back path leading to it. Get them out that way. Now."

His arm slackened around her waist and finally she spun, taking in his familiar features for the first time. And for the briefest moment they gazed at one another, countless words passing without ever being spoken. His beautiful black eyes shimmered with emotion, as he reached one hand to lightly graze her cheek, but before she could even process the moment, he was gone, like a specter vanishing into the night. She saw him sprinting up the mountain path, toward the cabin and she raised the radio to her mouth.

"Serena," she hissed, as quietly as possible. There was a short pause, then her radio crackled in reply.

"Here."

"We’re under attack…evacuate. Repeat, evacuate. Plan one-four-A." There was another pause, this one longer and Tess could almost hear Serena processing what she’d just relayed. Finally, the radio came to life again, and Serena’s voice rang quietly through her small corner of the woods.

"Understood." And then the radio fell silent again, as Tess broke into a desperate run, her heart nearly leaping from her chest as it beat out such an anxious rhythm. Her lungs drew in painful drafts of air, as she hopped over a fallen tree branch. It was blackest nighttime, yet she knew this path by heart, and for that she was thankful as she took the trail that lead toward the lake—away from their enemy.

A branch slapped her in the face with a sharp sting, and she shoved it away as she continued her frantic run, when she heard a shuffling movement just behind her. She dropped to the ground, crouching, willing her breaths to become quiet, despite the erratic heaving of her chest. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the scent, and for a moment it remained unrecognizable--an effect of so much rain diluting it. And then it played across her senses and she exhaled loudly when she recognized it as Michael, right when he nearly tripped over her.

"Shit!" He hissed. "Tess…"

She rose from where she’d squatted low on the ground, and pressed her fingers urgently against his mouth, silencing him as she cast her eyes all around.

"What the hell is happening?" He demanded.

"Marco…he warned me…" Tess dragged in uneven breaths, her eyes still studying the terrain all around them. "Nicholas is here for Max."

Michael stared at her silently for a moment, then nodded purposefully. "We’ve got to get to the lake."

Tess turned in silent agreement, pulling him by the hand. "Come on!" She cried in a near-whispered voice, as they began sprinting through the darkness, but their movements were interrupted by the muted sputter of gunfire from the distance.

From the section of the trail Ari had been patrolling. Tess stopped, her panic intensifying, and now it was Michael who began dragging her forward along the path.

This was it—everything they’d trained for…all that they’d hoped would never happen.

They began running up the steep trail, headed toward the lakefront, and Tess lost her footing slightly on the muddy path. She caught herself roughly with her hands, as Michael hurried on ahead of her, and then began sprinting after him as she regained her balance. An icy branch popped her sharply across the eyes, and she shoved it aside, as she continued her ascent—the path rose upward for a distance before lowering again toward the lake. Then, somehow, as she pressed the branches out of her way, she lost her footing on the slippery earth again, only this time she slid sideways, clawing at anything to catch herself.

But she’d gone over the edge of the mountainous path, and suddenly felt herself plummeting hard, her leg catching beneath her as she slid down the rough, wet embankment. She cried out in sharp pain, feeling her ankle snap beneath her, as her hands grappled against wet vines and leaves, trying to stop her fall downward into the ravine she knew waited below.

Finally, after what felt an eternity, she hit the bottom of the hillside, her ankle throbbing terribly. She rested there a moment, glancing back up into the inky blackness where she knew Michael must be peering down at her, and felt utterly frightened. She was incapacitated with what she was sure must be a broken ankle, lost in the pouring rain at the bottom of the hidden ravine. She let out a desperate cry, as she collapsed against the earthen hillside, resting her head against wet leaves and brush for a moment—until there was movement just ahead of her. She was about to raise herself up when she saw the flare of a bluish light, and a fiery explosion ripped through her chest, shooting through every part of her body.

She cried out in agonizing pain, as her hands and fingers grew instantly numb, knowing that some unseen assailant had just hit her with a disruptor, but before she could even move, a heavy boot kicked her sharply in the ribs.

"What the…"

"Shut up!" The male voice commanded, as a dark figure pounced upon her, pinning her roughly to the ground. She writhed beneath the forceful grip, as an unseen face drew right up against her own.

"If it isn’t the king’s second," the voice laughed hollowly, as Tess tried feebly to move. "How very convenient."

Tess closed her eyes, as he shoved her head backwards against the hillside, lowering his face closer to her own. "Who are you?" She managed to rasp.

"That’s not important," the man explained, his breath hot against her face. "But you may call me Captor."

***

Liz paced across the dirt floor of the small bunker, wringing her hands in agitation. Max’s team hadn’t arrived yet, despite nearly everyone else having already appeared—well, except Michael and Tess…and Ari. Yet, as she gazed around the earthen room, which was lit only by the small hurricane lantern that Serena had ignited, she saw all the rest of them…Maria, Kyle, Isabel, Alex, and on and on.

The patrol team was understandably delayed since they’d had the furthest distance to traverse. But there was the keen absence of Max, along with his Riley and Anna, who Serena had sent out with him.

The long-standing security plan in the event of a direct offensive attack was that they would all split up, heading by several circuitous paths down to the lake, where a bunker existed, dug out of the earth. It was something like a fall out shelter, but without much long-term survival supplies. The door was covered with brush and dirt, and they’d all been shown in exact detail how to locate it—even at night like this—so Liz knew that Max shouldn’t have had trouble finding it.

Liz tried not to panic, as she felt Maria’s sure hand clasp her forearm, but it was becoming difficult, because they should have arrived by now.

Liz knew Maria was feeling her own urgent fear, but she was doing a better job of holding herself together. Because they don’t want to execute Michael…he’s not the despised leader of the revolution, she reflected fearfully.

"Lizzie, he’ll come," Maria whispered quietly, her face hidden mostly by shadows. The small lantern created an eerie play of darkness and light on the earthen walls of the small shelter, so that the moment only felt more surreal…and threatening.

Liz swallowed hard, feeling tears burn her eyes. "Yeah, I know." But she didn’t sound convincing, even to her own ears.

"Lizzie," Maria repeated, her voice much more insistent. "He’ll come."

And suddenly Liz realized that Maria was trying to convince herself about Michael, as much as anything.

"They’ll all come," Maria amended softly.

Liz crushed her in a quick embrace. "Of course they will," she murmured against her friend’s long hair. "I’m not worried about Michael…or Tess."

"Don’t worry about Max, either."

"I wish it were that easy," Liz confessed, swallowing hard as Maria stroked her back lightly. A sudden creaking sound overhead caused them to instantly separate, and stare at the ceiling above expectantly. Liz heard Maria draw her breath in tightly, as Alex stepped between them both, slipping his arms around their shoulders comfortingly.

"It hasn’t been long yet," Alex whispered, as they all watched the dark door push open. Long, gangly legs began a quick descent down the ladder, and Liz heard Maria sob softly as Michael appeared above them, reaching overhead to close the door.

But their relief was short-lived when he dropped to the ground in front of them, eyes wide and anxious. "They got Tess," he said, his face twisting in anguish.

Maria moved quickly toward him, running her hand down his arm, as Serena stepped from the shadows. "Tell us what happened," she commanded quietly.

But before Michael could reply, the overhead door opened again, revealing Anna—and Liz’s heart plummeted when she realized that she came alone.

***

"Where the hell are they?" Nicholas roared, as they stood in the middle of the common room of the cabin. Marco had arrived moments before, to find him on a rampage, as two of his men moved quickly throughout the vacant dwelling. Marco ran an anxious hand over his wet hair, his mind spinning at a quicksilver rate. If he didn’t cover himself well, Nicholas was going to know that he still served Max.

"Someone must have encountered one of their patrols," he offered, willing his voice to remain steady. "They must have radioed a warning. Like I told you down there, they patrol with a vengeance."

Nicholas stared at him in silence for a long moment, and Marco wondered if he was trying to read him. He opened himself a bit, needing to know, but was met only with the quiet fury raging within Nicholas at having been trumped. Nicholas spun toward Aaron, one of his key soldiers, who entered from the back hallway.

"Nothing," Aaron declared furiously, his gray eyes narrowing like a cat’s. "But they were here moments ago…there was even a bathtub full of water, still hot."

"I want to know how the hell this happened," Nicholas declared, glancing at Marco again.

Marco created an expressionless mask with his features, shaking his head. "Their patrols, I’m telling you. Someone spotted us."

"Then why the hell are the cars still here?" Nicholas wondered aloud. "Are they just out there wandering in the woods?"

"We never thought through an evacuation plan in a situation like this…never thought the safe house could be discovered." He hoped his lie was convincing, and met Nicholas’s eyes keenly, never allowing his gaze to waver.

But before Nicholas could reply, the door to the cabin slammed open and Marco’s breath hitched when another of Nicholas’s soldiers shoved Max roughly to the ground in front of them. Max lay nearly at his feet, gasping for air, and when he raised his head weakly, Marco saw that he’d been badly beaten. His lips were cracked and swollen, his nose bleeding, but more than that, there was a brokenness to him that caused Marco’s chest to tighten painfully. Everything in him yearned to reach out to his fallen king, and yet he had to play out his role—no matter what happened—because it was his only hope of saving him.

Nicholas began laughing hollowly beside him, squatting down where Max knelt gasping, his hands planted on the floor in front of him in an effort to steady himself.

"Get up," Nicholas commanded. "Now."

Max raised his head again slowly, and moved to rise, but collapsed face forward onto the hard, wooden floor. Marco closed his eyes briefly against the site, his mind grasping for any sort of plan to save Max’s life.

"Well, well…the mighty Max Evans kneels before me," Nicholas taunted. "Can’t say I never thought I’d see the day, since I’ve lived for it."

Max rested his forehead against the floor for a moment, then slowly raised his head to meet Nicholas’s gaze—and that was the moment when his eyes met Marco’s. Max’s eyes widened in disbelief, horror as they gazed at one another for an eternal moment…and Marco could see that Max truly believed he’d betrayed him. He felt the blood drain from his face, as his stomach churned nauseously. Then, Max broke eye contact, his gaze flitting back down to meet Nicholas’s.

"Fuck you," he stated simply, his voice ragged and hoarse.

"Hmm…" Nicholas goaded him. "I’ll think about it. But I’d far prefer to mind rape you."

Nicholas glanced over his shoulder, up at Marco, a sly smile playing at his lips. "Then again, perhaps another plan might be more enjoyable. I believe you’ve met Marco McKinley before?"

Max lowered his eyes, his breath falling in quick heaving pants. "Ah, yes, you do remember him," Nicholas gloated, rocking back on his heels to study Max’s fallen form. "I think you two should get…reacquainted."

Marco’s heart sped even more quickly, as Nicholas glanced up at him. "Marco, I know you’d love to get inside Max’s head, wouldn’t you?"

"Absolutely," Marco agreed, narrowing his eyes menacingly as he stared down at Max.

"Since Max has never been particularly…forthcoming, shall I say? About the location of the granolith, it seems we must force the information out of him," Nicholas reflected, rising to his feet to stand beside Marco. "You shall have the honors…and then I’ll kill him."

****

Every part of Max’s body throbbed in pain; his ribs, his nose, his wrist…his chest where they’d hit him squarely with the Disruptor, and then repeated the agonizing gesture at least three times for gleeful measure. Afterwards, they’d beaten him severely, reducing him to his present condition, all the while forcing him to stare at Riley and Anna’s fallen bodies, knowing he should have been able to heal the gaping wound in Riley’s chest.

And yet he’d been utterly powerless, and they’d only taunted him with it.

He’d never felt so broken in all his life, except perhaps at Pierce’s hands, yet somehow this was even worse.

Pierce hadn’t wanted him dead for political reasons, hadn’t hunted him for years.

And a beloved friend hadn’t handed him over to Pierce either, and as Max raised his head weakly to meet Marco’s gaze, he realized they’d all been wrong about him. The way he stared at him, his eyes so black and threatening, there was no doubt in Max’s mind that he’d sold them all out this night—had led them straight to their safe house.

Max averted his cold gaze because it hurt worse than any physical pain he was suffering, to think that the man who’d served him so loyally had stooped to this was enough to destroy him, especially as his mind quickly rifled through Tess’s love for him, his own mistakes. All his thoughts about Marco just shot through his head at lightening speed, as he knelt slowly in front of him.

Marco’s sheer physical advantage was intimidating at that moment, because even kneeling in front of him as he was now, he towered over him. Max drew in several quick, unsteady breaths, trying to think how he could possibly block a mind rape in his condition—especially since none of his powers were at his disposal after his hits from the disruptor.

"Max," Marco stated simply, reaching his hands toward his face. Max recoiled, collapsing face-first onto the floor again, but he felt Marco’s large palms surround the sides of his face, cupping him firmly. Marco lowered his head, so that even though Max lay with his face down, their temples nearly met. "Don’t fight it," he commanded forcefully, his voice filled with hatred.

Max’s eyes fluttered closed. Pierce…why did it make him think of Pierce? Perhaps because there was something almost tender in the way Marco cupped his face, in his intimate proximity, despite his obvious derision.

Max felt the wood floor throb against his temple, just as he was aware of his broken ribs, his broken body…but then he felt something oddly familiar, yet wildly different.

He felt the tug of his bond with Liz. But it wasn’t that, despite the sudden awareness of heat roiling across his skin, energy nipping at him, wooing him. So utterly familiar, yet…masculine. He gasped at the sensation, feeling Marco’s hands tighten around his face. No, he had to fight it, couldn’t give in to Marco’s efforts to establish a connection—yet some part of his mind argued that this wasn’t a mind rape at all, was something much gentler.

Heat showered across his face, right beneath Marco’s hands, and he was suddenly aware of their warm texture, and felt the pull again, a desperate thing.

Trust me. The words shot across his skin with startling clarity. Just trust me.

The words weren’t simply an invitation, a calling like with Liz—they were inside his mind, and suddenly warmth accompanied them, an undeniable love and loyalty. The energy playing across his senses was too overpowering, and he could no longer resist.

Max, please. It’s your only hope. Again, right within his mind.

And he opened the connection, allowed it to unfurl between the two of them, and power rushed through his mind, electrifying his broken body. Such a familiar sensation, so like with Liz, and yet so much more heady and strong…so foreign.

Oh, thank God, Marco breathed.

No-no…I mean, it feels like I can trust you. Confused. Max suddenly felt like he might pass out, between the rich resonance of his connection with Marco, and the way his whole body ached. His ribs in particular had begun throbbing with an excruciating insistency.

Max gasped as his newly formed bond with Marco pulsated with alien power, and he felt a rush of sensations from Marco’s side-- the weight of self-accusation hit him squarely, painful loneliness…countless emotions coursing like a rushing stream straight from Marco’s mind into his own. And Tess…over and over she appeared, rising to the surface like a buoy in the ocean of his mind.

The words sunk into Max’s mind, and he forced a murmured cry of pain—not hard since he was in absolute physical agony.

Good, Marco encouraged him. Keep going, but keep listening.

How? Max choked, still so unsteady from the physical onslaught he’d endured.

They used the disruptor, Max argued weakly. My powers are useless.

Okay…okay. Max agreed, feeling Marco’s hands shift gently around his face, and remembered to feign agony. He cried out loudly, writhing a bit on the floor, beneath Marco’s firm grip.

Good, Marco encouraged. One more thing…Khivar is supposed to visit camp next week. If you get out, Max, this is your chance.

H-h-ow? How could we possibly know when he’s there? Max couldn’t help wondering briefly if he’d live to see the next week, but he listened anyway.

What? Max jerked a bit, feeling something of an energy jolt shoot through their bond. So weird, the way he was so intimately connected with Marco, the way Marco’s masculine energy just kept sweeping across his skin.

Max felt another burst of powerful energy shoot through their connection, one that left him even more unsteady.

No, Marco whispered softly. Don’t apologize. I was more than wrong…but we’ve got to break this. Remember—hide the granolith.

Max felt a little flutter of anxiety and fear hit him squarely in the chest, knew that Marco was worried for him, as his hands slipped slowly away from his face, and their connection cooled, then dimmed completely. Max struggled up on his hands, raising his head to meet Marco’s gaze, but he’d already turned away, was facing Nicholas with a furious expression.

"The bastard blocked me," Marco suddenly insisted, spitting the words out. "Couldn’t get a fucking thing.

Nicholas nearly exploded in anger, jerking Max up to his feet. He stumbled unsteadily, reaching into the air to catch himself, and felt Nicholas grip his forearm tightly.

"Enough, Max," Nicholas hissed. "Time to give it up."

Nicholas stepped toward him, his hands clasping his head in a rough movement, so different than how Marco had touched him.

And then it began, the most torturous, laser-sharp pain spearing through his mind at hurricane velocity. Max cried out, gasping sharply as the wind became a suction, ripping through his memories, tearing them out of his mind faster than he could focus on any one.

A steel wall, Max remembered and ignored the way his brain was being shuffled so painfully. He staggered to his knees again, Nicholas mirroring his body posture, never releasing his hands from where they were planted against his head.

A steel wall, he repeated to himself, erecting that fortress around the granolith. Max began shaking uncontrollably as the sensations intensified, as wind swept his memories wildly aside.

He kept his eyes closed, fighting Nicholas with the only strength he had, and as Marco had suggested, he just clung for life to the one image, because he couldn’t battle Nicholas beyond that—he was simply too weak.

"Max," Nicholas breathed, drawing his face close to his. "Don’t fight this. You’re not strong enough."

"Not fighting," Max mumbled.

"Then remove that damn steel barrier."

"Don’t know what you mean."

"I’m almost there, Evans. I’m so close, just remove it and show me the granolith, and then the pain will end." His voice had become low and soothing now, deceptive in its lulling tones. "I know it’s in the desert outside Roswell…just show me."

Steel wall…all he’d get. All he’d get, Max repeated within his weakened mind, slumping to his knees again. Nicholas refused to let up, pushing harder into his mind, and Max became aware that he was hyperventilating, losing his grip…slipping.

"Fuck you," Nicholas suddenly shouted, rising so fast away from Max that he lost his balance again and collapsed on the floor in a crumpled heap.

"He blocked me, all he’d show me was some damn image of a steel wall, and that doesn’t tell us a thing…" Suddenly Nicholas stopped talking and Max braced himself, ready for another attack against his mind. "Except, perhaps that image might prove very useful."

Nicholas knelt before him and seized Max’s face sharply within his palms. "Open up and play, Max." His voice sent a shiver down Max’s spine, as he felt Nicholas intrude powerfully again. Max immediately focused on his image again, shielding the granolith with all that was within him.

"You want to show me that steel wall?" Nicholas taunted. "Fine then, take this."

Max screamed as he felt something literally twist dramatically within his mind, as the picture of the wall solidified in some strange way, locking into place. It became something utterly permanent in his head in that moment, fused to his memories in a way that Max intuitively understood. Max cried out again, as the pain settled into the foundation of his brain, echoed, then imprinted.

"Yes, there you go," Nicholas gloated with a soft sigh, dropping his hands. "By the time you’ve truly experienced the benefits of that little gift, you’ll crawl to me…you’ll beg me to take the granolith from you. I only wish I could see your reaction."

"What does that mean?" Max choked, gazing up at Nicholas weakly. He saw Marco standing just above him, undisguised concern flickering in his dark eyes.

"You’ll find out," Nicholas laughed, crossing his arms across his chest smugly. "And when you do, you’ll come running back."