Free Critical Path (The Critical Series Book2) by Wearmouth, Barnes Page B

They don’t look like they’re expecting anything by being so out in the open; you’ll likely get the drop on them.”
    “Why me?” Gregor said. “You love these aliens so much, you go with it.”
    “Her,” Denver said and realized how ridiculous it was that he was defending an alien to Gregor. Clearly the ex-crime lord’s brain wasn’t particularly sharp today.
    Denver offered him the perfect opportunity to deal with Venrick.
    “Just go with her and deal with the situation in your usual way,” Denver said, giving the other man an obvious wink, knowing the alien wouldn’t likely pick up on it.
    Feigning comprehension, Gregor gave Denver a mock salute as he sneered with understanding. “Right you are. I’ll meet you back with the others once we’ve swept round and taken a look. Don’t do anything stupid with that one down there… or do, I don’t really care.”
    “I hope you fall into a trap,” Denver said as Gregor and Venrik, still crouching, made their way down the other side of the hill and headed off into the eastern side of the trees.
    Gregor flipped him the bird before he disappeared into the forest.
    A part of Denver hoped that both of them would kill each other and save him the trouble.
    He took out the adapted communicator from his jacket pocket. Mike had done a great job of altering the encryption on these devices.
    They had to be careful using the alien tech, as they didn’t want to give away their communications to any croatoans who might be listening in, especially with those from the south posing a threat still.
    Although the northern territory farms were devoid of aliens, most of them now dead on the field, the southern farms and those on other continents were still just getting the news of everything that had happened over the last month and were fighting with the aliens in their own way.
    Layla helped forward messages to those farms that came online using the inter-facility messaging system that Augustus used from the mother ship. Without the central server, it had taken weeks to hack the system to work on a peer-to-peer basis, but every day they reached more and more facilities, and day by day the humans turned on the aliens, reclaiming the planet once more.
    Switching the communicator on with a small thumb button inset into the alien polymer, he brought it up to his ear. “Layla, this is Den. You hear me?”
    A few seconds passed, and with zero static, Layla’s voice came to him. “I hear you loud and clear, Den. What’s going on? You find anything?”
    Denver filled her in on the situation.
    “I’ll bring back a gift. Hold tight, I’ll be there shortly.”
    He didn’t expand on it as he clicked the communicator off. Edging forward on his elbows and sighting through the scope, he watched the alien continue to stalk through the field. Occasionally it got distracted by something on a body and stopped to investigate.
    This was not the behavior of a trained and lethal hunter.
    Bracing the rifle against his shoulder and using a molehill to support the barrel, he waited for the alien to stop and stoop once more before pulling the trigger.
    The shot caught the alien in the knee, bending its leg backwards and making it sprawl forward.
    It dropped its rifle and clutched its bleeding leg.
    The shot, silenced and suppressed with alien technology, made almost no noise. The downed alien looked around in all directions to see where the attack had come from, while letting out a clipped screech.
    Definitely not a trained hunter, Denver thought as he crested the hill and in a crouching run, keeping to the side where the trees cast their shadows, headed toward his quarry, rifle up ready to fire if needed.
    But he wanted this one alive.
    ***
    Gregor let Venrick take the lead.
    She’d been easy to convince to take point as they slowly made their way through the trees on the eastern side of the field. He really wanted to stop for another shot of root.
    The long journey had meant the last dose was