Free The Phoenix Variant: The Fifth Column 3 by Nathan M Farrugia Page A

working, decoding Nasira’s words quickly.
    ‘The first operation … it was to kill … it was meant to complete your programming. If you were successful, there was no doubt.’
    Tears were running down Lucia’s cheeks. She saw it coming.
    Nasira couldn’t stop now. She had to go through. She had to see this out. ‘Our first operation was to kill our own parents.’
    Lucia’s mouth was open. She tried to scream but no sound came. Nasira moved for her but Lucia flinched, stepped back. She hunched over, gasping.
    ‘But it wasn’t her,’ Nasira said. ‘Lucia didn’t do that. The people who programmed her did that.’
    Lucia straightened up, eyes glassy and cheeks flushed. She said nothing. Just stared through Nasira.
    ‘Did you kill your own parents?’ Lucia said.
    ‘No,’ Nasira said.
    ‘Why not?’ Lucia said. Her words struck Nasira with venom. ‘Were you too good for that?’
    Nasira swallowed. ‘I was an orphan,’ she said. ‘I was given a different assignment.’
    Lucia glared at her. ‘Go.’
    ‘I’m sorry,’ Nasira said.
    ‘Just go.’
    Nasira felt the sting of tears in her own eyes. She turned, her hood up, and walked for the trail. Her legs seemed unwilling to walk anywhere. Not now, not after that. She didn’t want to go anywhere. But she certainly didn’t want to stay there a moment longer.
    She found the trail, a meticulous row of stone steps that led as far down the mountain face as she could see. She blinked and wiped her face, clearing the older Lucia and the village from her mind. She was finished now and she could return to Sophia.
    She wished she had her wooden staffs to take the pressure off her legs but she’d left them behind when Lucia had rescued her. It took her an hour to make it to the bottom of the stone steps and into the foothills.
    And that’s when she heard it.
    Yelling in the distance.
    It sounded like someone shouting a warning, or giving orders. And, more interesting still, it sounded American.
    The noise had come from the west, farther along the mountainside. She could see the ground drop off sharply ahead. Well, she couldn’t see it at all, but she knew the contours now.
    Ordinarily she would have circled around the voices and continued on her way, but she was curious. She decided it was best to identify the speaker, make sure they were just mountain climbers and that no one was in any danger and then move on quietly.
    She moved quickly through the snow, each step squeaking. She carefully stepped towards the sharp drop, planning to negotiate her way around it, but she stopped in her tracks when she caught sight of what was far below.
    It was a temporary camp, and it looked new.
    But this was no ordinary camp. Nasira couldn’t help but notice the security perimeter. She dropped to her stomach, removed her ruck and searched for her binos. She wriggled forward, slowly, until she had just enough space to get a visual. With the magnification of the binos she was able to identify a silver half-pipe shelter that wrapped around a dome-shaped structure. It looked like a donut. The half-pipe was large enough to drive a tractor through, and the dome tent was the size of an Olympic swimming pool. But what lay inside, Nasira did not know.
    The perimeter of the base was fringed with coils of razor wire, except for one entrance. And she could already make out three pairs of soldiers in white camouflage. Their attention was focused on the entrance. They watched people in white, baggy uniforms walk out of the base. On closer inspection, Nasira realized they were wearing contamination suits with hoods and visors removed. Some of them carried crates, others shiny black bags.
    The soldiers in white carried M4 carbines. There had been no effort to camouflage the carbines for the snow, although it did make her wonder if there were surveillance and sniper teams in the forest or higher on the mountain.
    Yeah, time to get the fuck out of here
.
    But the core of the base drew her. She