Judge

Chapter 21

Cameron Wilson is stumped once again. Are there no limits to what this guy can do? He asks himself. He stands in Miami International, near a shutdown terminal swarming with agents. Arion Michalis and Madison Rhodes are gone. They scheduled flights to Greece. Never showed up.

And now, this decoy has him completely lost. Their cells are off, possibly destroyed. Their families are untouchable, claim no knowledge of their actions. All he knows is that he is about to be immersed in some deep shit. Rig and Cole join him at the terminal, flanking him like two walls of muscle and testosterone.

Albeit friendly ones.

"He jumped ship." Rig observes, admiration coloring his voice.

"Smart thing to do." Cole states in return. "Dillman would have caught them here."

"You two really hate Secdef, don't you?" Cameron asks. Rig's eyes darken like thunderclouds. Both of the behemoths tense up.

"We had a couple buddies on a little boat that got hosed. On his orders. They went out with their lieutenant. Sam and KJ never came back. Picked off by some coward along with everyone on that skiff. Austin told us what happened from his gunner's post. He got silenced the day after." Cameron nods slowly, a few pieces of the puzzle that is Cole and Rig falling into place. He averts his gaze, watching a man dressed in a long gray duster look for prints.

Much pomp and circumstance is lacking despite the little band of confidants snapping crisply to attention. They just can't seem to muster the appropriate respect for the secretary anymore. His pallid face and pouchy eyes linger on the three of them before he steps into the gate and begins to woolgather.

It's not long before he turns back on them.

"You three were the rest of the strike team I sent with Ares, correct?" He asks quietly.

"Sir, yes, sir." Cameron answers in an even tone.

"I believe I need your services again. Ares and Morrigan have escaped, as you well know. Find them. Report to me at the Pentagon in thirty-six hours with a plan of action. Dismissed."

"Sir, yes, sir!" All three chorus.

He waves his hand in a throwaway gesture, then turns and exits the terminal. The three soldiers look each other in the face, thoroughly overcome by a sense of dread.

"We need to get to work." Rig immediately says, eyes slightly wider than normal.

"Deal. Let's head back to base camp, set up a net filter, and then do some good old fashioned detective work. He can't have gone far." Cameron agrees.

I just hope we won't be there when they find you.

My eyes flutter open. I'm made of sand, for some reason. Where the hell am I?

Maddie. Where's Maddie?

I snap up to my feet, turn to steel - and immediately nausea hits me like a punch in the gut. I collapse, doubling over into the sand. Arms shaking from exhaustion, I manage to lift my chest off the ground before I power down just in time to violently lose whatever acid remained in my stomach.

The sharp smell enters my nose and I turn away, disgusted at my weakness and the acrid mess in front of me. My whole body burns. I no longer have the strength to move. My eyes begin to close, an iron curtain struggling to descend and close the scene.

They might just succeed. As I drift off, I could swear I rise and move with the solid cadence of a slow walk.

Trees. Tall trees. Tall trees with green leaves. Tall trees with green leaves and brown trunks against a bright blue sky fill my vision as I lay on my back. I'm in a hammock. I haven't woken up well. My muscles ache like I've just done the hardest workout of my life on an empty stomach.