FIFTEEN

 

 

A week went by.

Shea stayed in her cell as much as she could. Diego disabled the lock, letting her come and go. But, she didn’t go far for long. It was a comfort to be confined. In her cell, there was less chance of her stumbling across Raid. Diego said the Laird had been keeping a low profile himself; she didn’t read anything into that. It wasn’t like he’d been particularly gregarious before their break-up.

On the occasions she did drift from her sanctuary, she tiptoed, paranoid and edgy about who might be lurking. Diego had authorized her to go into the records room, and that was an irresistible temptation. Shea didn’t know if Raid was aware that she was invading his vault. At this point, she didn’t care. Making him happy, or even being accepted by him, was beyond her capability. He’d made that clear by dumping her.

Each morning, she’d go to the records room, sign out a bunch of files and receive her paperwork from Diego, who’d meet her there. Then, she’d take everything back to her cell and do her paperwork before immersing herself in the history of the compound. Memorizing procedures and learning about the men who both worked there and those who were incarcerated at their mercy, she wanted to absorb all that she could.

Diego brought her food and kept her abreast of what was going on with the guys. He hadn’t told her what they thought about her suddenly disappearing and she didn’t ask. Shea figured either her comrades had decided she was locked up with Raid or that she’d been locked up by him. Just as soon as she got to the end of her reading, she’d make amends with the men. Although that might take a while, Shea was in no hurry to face anyone.

Reading the files kept her busy and distracted from the descending spiral of her own thoughts. It wasn’t like she had anything else to do. In other circumstances, she’d have done her utmost to move on from any asshole who screwed her around like Raid had. Her options for doing that around here were limited, so she busied herself with research.

Being hurt by Raid was magnified because she couldn’t actually go anywhere to get away from her memories of him. She couldn’t even go for a run or jump in a cab and disappear for a few days. She was stuck staring at the same walls she’d smiled at when they were together.

In her cell, Shea had files piled on the floor in front of her and was leaning against the bed reading when a loud siren pierced the air.

It was like no siren she’d heard before and sure wasn’t part of the regular schedule. Dropping the file, she leaped to her feet and covered her ears to try blocking the intrusive sound. This wasn’t normal. Something was happening out there.

Going to the door, she opened it just a fraction of a second before there was a scraping thud. All the thick bolts leaped out of the metal door she was holding in her hand. Bolts meant to clamp the door in its frame. Automatic lockdown… all the doors had been locked. If she had reached hers a fraction of a second later, she’d have been locked in like everyone else.

One of those bolts had gouged a nice slice from the side of her hand, but there wasn’t time to worry about a little blood. Instead, she focused on the flashing red light in the hallway outside her cell. In the event of a lockdown or a riot, Diego had told her that her role was to stay out of the way.

Cowering wasn’t in her nature. Eager to know what was going on, her thoughts gravitated to Diego. If something was happening, she wanted to know that her friend was safe. Agitation stirred her blood. A looming sense of apprehension hung in the air, so she was careful and quiet while creeping to the end of her wing.

There was no one there. There wasn’t always a guy posted at the end of her wing. Sometimes Sharkey came down to do his work at this station because he knew she was staying down there. If any inmate was put in solitary, Sharkey would be the guard posted to monitor him. Shea didn’t really count, but that didn’t stop Sharkey from sticking close whenever he could.

No one was there.

As she ascended the stairs, the siren got louder. Above the shrill sound, she was sure she could hear her heart hammering in her chest and the torrent of speeding blood whooshing through her veins. Horror slammed into her when she got to the top of the stairs. A maelstrom of movement in the courtyard was the first thing she saw. A brawl; inmates clashing with guards. Shouting, screaming, the slam of bodies and fists in a melee that made individuals difficult to decipher.

Shots rang out.

Ducking, she covered her head. Screams of pain came from outside. Anyone could be hit. The guys in the towers wouldn’t be able to get a clear shot from above with the guards and inmates so entwined. There was a procedure for this. Raid’s procedure. But, it was one she didn’t want to think about because it involved a blanket approach that might not work out so well for her comrades. The men in the towers had to find it distasteful too, which may be why they were hesitating.

Shea rose slowly, peeking over the rim of the window to note there were prone bodies on the concrete.

Adrenaline drove her toward the door, even though the skirmish was still going on. With her fingertips extended, just an inch away from the door handle, she was ready to go outside. Someone grabbed her just before she made contact.

Gasping, she was being yanked around by an assailant who registered her panic. He let her go and held up his hands to show he was no threat.

Kipling. It was Kipling.

Shea breathed out in relief and stopped just short of smacking him in the chest for startling her like he had.

A gang of comrades rushed up the corridor behind him, stopping at his back. “No chance I’m letting you go out there, Sexpot,” he said.

Her mind began to work. “How many are out there?” she asked. “Where’s Raid?”

“Off base,” Kipling said. The bottom fell out of her world; her mouth opened in an inhale of desperate horror. Her reaction surprised him, probably because he’d have expected her to know the location of their Laird. “He left this morning.”

If Raid was in control, it wouldn’t even occur to Shea to be worried about a fracas like this. Without him around to issue decisive orders, the threat level was much more ominous.

“Where’s Diego?” she asked because her friend was the next best thing to their Laird in this scenario.

Wearing a solemn expression, Kipling looked past her to the courtyard beyond the windows at her back.

Dread tightened her chest. Shea whirled around to see the inmates were overpowering the guards. They were winning. The animals were going to triumph if someone didn’t do something. Her adrenaline became a different kind of terror as her eyes darted around, trying to pick out Diego. Fear became grief and panic when she recognized the boots of one of the men on the far side of the yard. Her friend was out there and he was in trouble.

“Diego’s down,” she barked at Kipling trying to subdue her distress. “Who’s in charge with him incapacitated?”

Kipling went white and his jaw slackened, which made her think that maybe command was supposed to go to him. He was foundering before he’d even done anything. Not that she blamed him for being adrift; this was never supposed to happen.

But, there was no time to think about that.

Grabbing a gun from the man beside Kipling, she checked the clip and pointed at the two men behind him. “You two stay with me,” she said and fixated on Kipling. “I want you on the radio, lock this whole damn place down. As of this second, everyone is on duty. Secure every inmate in a cell; don’t unlock a single one for anything until I tell you. No one gets fed. Exercise and hygiene are privileges that have just been revoked. Any inmate out of his cell in the next three minutes is to be put in solitary for the foreseeable future. And, tell the tower to hold their fire.” She looked at the man she’d taken the gun from. “Get on your radio and get a fully-equipped med team down here. We’ll need every man who’s on base with medical training.”

“There are only three men down,” he said.

The guard towers wouldn’t be able to take a clear non-lethal shot with the mess of entangled people. Raid’s blanket approach was still on the table. The tower would be able to level every man out there, inmate or comrade. But, no one wanted to lose good men, especially to friendly fire.

Shea resolved herself to what had to be done and wrapped both hands around her gun to reverse toward the courtyard door.

“There are about to be a whole lot more,” she said and shoved through the door to spin around and train her gun on the inmates who were still fighting with the guards.

Firing the gun straight up, she startled them all with her proximity. Ignoring the echoing sound of her weapon, Shea took aim at the closest inmate. Firing again, she shot him in the thigh; he went down screaming. Without hesitation, she discharged another two rounds, hitting one inmate in the shoulder and the third in the foot.

The injured men writhed on the ground or lay motionless. Anyone still on their feet was beginning to back away with their hands up. From the corner of her eye, she saw an inmate start toward her. Whirling without hesitation, she fired a round into his chest. He dropped his weapon and Lev, who was out there already, ran over to kick the gun away from the bastard’s reach. For good measure, he kicked the thrashing guy in the face to knock him out.

Lev guarded the threat and nodded at her once, maybe in thanks. Too busy to pause, she didn’t spend any time pondering him, Shea turned her attention back to the remaining inmates who were raising their hands in surrender.

“I’ve seen every one of your faces,” she shouted at them. “If a single one of my men dies, you’ll be gutted and sent out to the wolves. Step out of line again and I’ll have you castrated and strung up like piñatas for the birds to feast on. You’re dogs! Until now you’ve been treated like princes compared to what you deserve. Every man in this place, every inmate, will be told exactly what you did here today and every one of them will be punished for it! Rations are too good for all of you. Let’s see how good your life is now your fellow inmates know you’re the reason for their treatment.” Her comrades moved in around the inmates to contain them. “Take them to solitary. No one speaks to them without my word.”

The dissenters were dragged inside by the guards as Kipling stormed out with his men to fall into formation behind her, offering protection she didn’t need. The medical teams rushed over to tend to the injured. Diego was the only one of hers not moving. After putting the safety on her weapon, Shea tucked it into the back of her pants, and went over to him.

The doctor and one of the medics were crouched with Diego. “How is he?”

“Can’t see a gunshot,” the doctor said. “He has a nasty head wound. We have to get him upstairs.”

Gesturing over two of the larger guards, she pointed to Diego. “Help the doctor. This man is the priority.”

They moved Diego onto the stretcher and lifted him up. Kipling came to take the walkie from Diego’s belt just before the guys carried him upstairs with the doctor and medic in tow.

“Looks like we’ve got a new alpha,” Kipling said, slapping Diego’s walkie into her hand.

Shea didn’t expect the device or the comment, but when she scanned those left in the yard, they were all looking to her. Taking over leadership was a helluva responsibility, and wasn’t one she’d been looking for. All she’d wanted was to get Diego out of harm’s way, that’s what had made her act.

Now, in the absence of their patriarch, these men were asking her, expecting her, to adopt the role of Laird.

She could say no. Except, who else would do it? She wasn’t sure any of the men were up to it; they were too used to following Raid or Diego.

It was on her. “Is every inmate locked down?” she asked Kipling, clipping the walkie to her belt and turning to march toward the building.

“Yes, mam,” he said, falling into step beside her.

She paused to glance back at the weary Lev. “Are you with me, Lev?”

He snapped to attention, taking his focus away from the shot man, who was being attended to by the medics. Forgetting the person he’d been guarding, Lev hurried over to her other side. “Yes, Lady.”

Lady. Though she didn’t stop moving, the title startled her. The female version of Laird. They assumed she was Raid’s consort. As she led her team of men through the corridors of the compound and up to the office space, she wondered what Raid would think about this development… of her being the one to give his men orders.

There wasn’t time to consider the Laird, even as she went into his office. Something about the air in there, the energy of him, gave her a boost of confidence. Kipling and Lev hesitated. She didn’t. Shea rounded his desk and stood behind it, gesturing them in.

Raid might be done with her and that was fine, but this was the office of the person in charge and until Diego was better, that was going to be her.

Kipling squirmed. “The Laird is—”

“Not here,” she said, glancing at the papers in his in-tray. “Until he comes back, or we can get word to him, it is business as usual, understand?” The men nodded. “We can’t let anyone know that anything is amiss. I’m going to trust that the doc will get Diego back on his feet quickly. Until we get a full report from the infirmary, we can’t know how long his recovery will take. In the meantime, inmates are to be kept in their cells, they are to be fed there—”

“That’s extra manpower.”

She frowned at Kipling. “I don’t give a damn. Safety is most important. Our guys had a scare today and the inmates are going to learn that kind of behavior is not acceptable. It won’t be forever, just a day or two until we can figure out what happened. I want every piece of video footage from the yard this morning. If that doesn’t give me answers, we widen the net. I’ll give you a list of inmates to interrogate as soon as I can.”

“Lady,” Lev said. “The Laird won’t be happy about this at all.”

About what had happened or about her taking over? Probably both. “I know,” she said. “We’re going to soften the blow by figuring out what happened and punishing those responsible. Get me that footage and a report from every department. And keep a close eye on every hall. If anyone’s causing trouble, isolate them, solitary or the empty hall, anywhere to keep them away from the others. I don’t care if we have to start tying them to the trees beyond the perimeter wall.”

She left the desk to start for the door. “Where are you going?” Kipling called.

Pausing by the door, Shea dreaded to think what she might find when she got to her destination. “Infirmary,” she said. “I want to know if there’s been any real cost.”

 

 

The doctor was still working on Diego when Shea got there. Leaving him alone to complete the scans because she didn’t want to hover, Shea checked in with the other guards who’d been hurt. Diego was the only one of her comrades with serious injuries; the others’ wounds were superficial. Shea told every comrade involved that they’d have to provide a written account of what happened, but gave each of them the remainder of the day off, ordering them to get some rest first.

The inmates she’d shot were in a separate part of the infirmary. She checked them too and advised the staff to give them the best care possible. Each of the prisoners were chained, or drugged, and she ordered them to be kept that way. They weren’t the best of patients and had proven they were dangerous. No way was she going to take any chances by trusting them.

In spite of being one of the youngest comrades, Sharkey was trustworthy. Shea got on the walkie and put him in charge of the solitary situation as he had the most experience in that department. She told him to clear out her cell and use it if he had to, even though she wasn’t wild about the idea of any inmate occupying what had been her safe space.

“Lady?”

So that had caught on? Turning around, she watched the doc approach, disliking the grim expression on his face. “How is he?”

Guiding her down the hallway, he took her into the room where Diego was laid up, connected to a bunch of machines. Seeing her powerful friend propped on the narrow bed, lifeless and unresponsive, made her hand rise to her mouth.

“It seems that he was targeted,” the doctor said from behind her.

Going to Diego to pick up his hand, she tried to process. When she blinked, tears skittered down her face; she didn’t care about showing weakness.

Pulling his hand to her mouth, she pressed her lips to it and squeezed it in both of his. “D,” she breathed onto him.

“He wasn’t shot. He was hit on the head and it’s that which has caused his unconsciousness.” Squeezing her eyes closed, Shea tried to hold in the sob that threatened her throat. So numb, she didn’t even know if she managed to contain it or not. “He’s in a coma, Lady.”

Sucking in a breath, she swallowed her terror and grief. “Will he wake up?”

“The next couple of days will be the most important in determining his prognosis.”

Keeping Diego’s hand in hers, she spun to face the doctor. “Would he get better care in a proper hospital?”

“Wha… what?” the doctor stuttered.

Shea was willing to consider any avenue. Whatever Diego needed to recover, she’d make sure it got done, even if it went against their revered Laird’s protocol. “If we take him off-base—”

“No. We have all of the facilities of the best hospitals in the world. The Laird has to ensure we are capable of sustaining ourselves.”

Diego had told her that the compound could be cut off from the world in the winter. Luckily, it was still summer. If Diego needed specialist help, she’d say to hell with the rules, and face Raid’s consequences, no matter what they were. For the moment, the men were following her commands, though they may stop if she suddenly started breaching their doctrine. But, Shea wasn’t planning on pushing any private agenda.

Getting Diego help to keep him alive was not the same thing as exposing this place or releasing its animals. If there was one thing she’d learned during her research of the records room files, it was that every man locked up on the compound needed to be kept on Raid’s leash, whatever the cost.

For a fleeting second, she recognized that this was a prime opportunity for escape. She could make up an excuse to have the defenses deactivated, take a jeep, and leave the others to fend for themselves. Except how long would it be until anarchy set in? Shea couldn’t abandon Diego. Someone had to keep order while her friend was incapacitated. It was his responsibility to keep everything running; she wouldn’t let it fall apart on Diego’s watch.

“If that changes, or you need anything, anything at all, doc, contact me,” she said and took his hand. “Diego is your priority, do you understand?”

“Yes, Lady,” he said. Letting the doctor go, she gave Diego’s hand one last squeeze before starting toward the door. “Shea?”

“Yeah?”

“From prisoner to warden in three months,” he said and offered her a smile. “Not bad.” She tried to smile, but it was difficult when the vulnerable Diego was just behind him. “We’ll take care of him, I promise.”

She nodded and left to head for her office again. Raid’s office. Best case scenario would be to get a message to their Laird. Figuring out where he was would be impossible, unless he’d left paperwork—which she doubted. Diego would know, except he was out of action. When her friend had been in the field, she’d been told by both men that there was no way to communicate with him, so there was no reason to believe Raid would be any different.

The only idea she had for trying to find out was at his place. Where the only access to the internet existed on the compound. Except, Raid had said the system needed a private code, and she had no reason to doubt his word. Even if she could logon, it wasn’t like she had his email address. Having no idea where he was, she couldn’t so much as take a shot in the dark by emailing a hotel or resort to get a message to him.

Damn, he was a prick. But, she wished he was here.

On returning to his office, she sat down at his desk, and had just opened the top drawer when Kipling came in. “Lady?”

“Diego’s going to be fine,” she said, smiling despite the slight fib. “We just have to keep things running until he can take the reins.”

“Right, and that could be a problem,” he said, coming in and closing the door.

Faced with another solemn expression, Shea wondered if she’d be able to uphold the façade of composure until Diego or Raid resumed command while surrounded by all these crises. “What?”

Kipling came to sit at her desk. “The security codes change automatically every day. They’re controlled by some computerized program thingy.”

“Okay,” she said. “And…”

His shoulder moved and he cleared his throat. “New codes can only be accessed by the mainframe’s primary terminal,” he said. “That’s off-site.”

From the way he squirmed, she figured he wasn’t giving her good news but couldn’t catch up to why it was bad. “The primary terminal at…” It hit her that if the internet was in one location, the mainframe’s primary terminal was probably in the same place. “You’re talking about the Laird’s bedroom.” Straightening up, Kipling shut his mouth fast, though he couldn’t disguise the shock that was written all over his face. It didn’t take Shea long to work out why her statement was so stunning. “You didn’t know it was in the bedroom.” The shake of his head was loose. He probably hadn’t expected her to talk about her intimacy with the Laird. Shea hadn’t meant to, but it sure sounded like she’d just confirmed they were getting busy. Backtracking would only make this situation more awkward, so she went with it. “Well, it is, and don’t worry about the codes… I’ll get them.”

“You have access?”

The subtext of that question was an implication that she had access to their leader’s bedroom while most comrades hadn’t been in, or even near, the Laird’s house. “Yes,” she said, realizing she had access to more than just his computer if she had sole access to his house. “I’ll get the codes… And, Kipling, thank you.”

“What for?”

“You and Lev, I can’t do this if I don’t have your support. You need to keep the men in line for me.”

He relaxed with a smile. “Shit, Sexpot, you saved my ass. I should be thanking you.”

As long as she had allies, she had faith that she could make whatever decisions were necessary. “We’ll worry about gratitude just as soon as the Laird is back on the compound.”

“You didn’t know he was gone?” he asked, but quickly followed up. “It was some emergency meeting somewhere. Diego said it happened fast. I figured he’d have taken the time to tell his girl about it.”

Maybe this was a chance to clear up some misconceptions. “I’m not exactly his girl, Kipling,” she said and adjusted the papers that were on Raid’s desk.

“Guess not,” he said and rose to offer her a salute. “You’re his Lady.”

Kipling smiled before he slipped out and closed the door, leaving her alone in the office that belonged to Raid, yet, for the moment, it seemed to be hers.

Picking up the DVDs that had been left on the desk, Shea turned the stack in her hands, hoping she was strong enough, and smart enough, to watch the security footage and figure out who was responsible for hurting the man who’d kept her alive all these months.

When her eyes began to blur with tears, she sniffed fast and shook herself. This wasn’t the time to be sentimental. Shea had to get justice for Diego and keep the compound functioning for him… whatever it took.