Free Threshold by Jeremy Robinson Page A

frozen in the man’s eyes, he focused on the Aboriginal facial features—pronounced brow, wide nose, dark skin. “These were our targets.”
    Knight crouched by a nearby body, possibly the one belonging to the head Bishop was inspecting. A pouch tied around the waist contained a wallet. Knight opened it and found a photo I.D. The name read: Balun Ammaroo. But the man in the photo wore a business suit and tie. “They were reenacting all this. Connecting with their heritage or something.” Knight toggled on his throat mic. “Deep Blue, this is Knight.”
    “What’s your status.”
    “We were too late. Everyone here is dead. Same M.O. as the Siletz Reservation.”
    The line was silent for a moment, then Deep Blue spoke again. “Take pictures of everything. Collect any evidence you think is important. When you’re done we’ll call in an anonymous tip so the bodies can be collected.
    “Copy that,” Knight said, “and Blue…”
    “Yeah?”
    “We’ve seen some crazy things in the past few years…” Knight looked around the clearing imagining how long it would take the Neanderthals or even the Hydra to inflict this many casualties, this brutally, and then disappear without a trace. He thought back on the large shadow he’d seen in the valley and shook his head. “And personally, I’d hoped all that was behind us, that some kind of normalcy had been restored to the world. But that’s one wish that won’t be coming true anytime soon. We’re chest deep in it again.”

 

THIRTEEN
Fort Bragg, North Carolina

    ALEMAN RAN DOWN the staircase with Fiona over his shoulder and his handgun in his hand. Surrounded by brick and concrete, the sounds of the battle raging outside were dulled, but he could still feel the shaking of explosions in his feet. The second-floor door sprang open as three Army Rangers entered the stairwell, ready for battle. Aleman recognized them and, outranking them, commandeered their protective services.
    “They’re after the girl,” Aleman shouted. “Do not leave my side.”
    The front man nodded. They had all been briefed on Fiona and knew she was under the military’s protection, though they did not know why. “Where to, sir?”
    Aleman had been wracking his brain on this point. They had never assumed someone would actually infiltrate Fort Bragg and hadn’t come up with a fail-safe plan for such an event. They needed to be safe, but more than anything, they needed to hide. Someplace dark. Someplace secure. “Nearest fallout shelter.”
    The three Rangers took the lead and descended the staircase first. They entered the short hallway at the end of the stairwell and made for the lobby. At the lobby door, the last of the three Rangers held out an open hand to Aleman.
    He stopped in the doorway and waited for the men to give the all clear. One man was about to, but his voice caught in his throat as his eyes grew wide. Something outside the lobby had caught his attention, and there was no time to shout a warning.
    The lobby imploded as a large projectile burst through one side, plowed over the three Rangers, and exploded out the other side of the building. Fiona screamed as Aleman turned and shielded her small body with his own, taking a chunk of concrete to the back of his head. He fell to one knee, felt his mind swirl, and then forced himself back onto his feet, ignoring the warm trickle of blood dripping down the back of his neck.
    He ran into the destroyed lobby, holstered his handgun, and picked up one of the dead Ranger’s MP5 submachine gun.
    Fiona’s second scream was directed straight in his ear and caused him to drop her. She landed on her slippered feet and tugged on his shirt frantically. She pointed through the ruined lobby wall, where the large projectile had exited. “Lew!”
    He turned and looked through the opening. A large gray mass, perhaps one hundred feet away, was turning around.
    It heard her scream, Aleman thought.
    Then it charged. In the brief moment he took