Fireteam Delta by J. Halpin (ebook reader that looks like a book txt) 📕

naturally ended up getting together and swapping stories.

Cortez was also his training partner—if you considered beating the ever-loving shit out of a man training. She, of course, did, and he was worried she’d decided he needed another lesson in hand-to-face combat.

“This is some bullshit,” Cortez said, gesturing to the much larger and clearly much more heavily disciplined group of soldiers on the opposite side of the room. “They’re walking around like they own the place.”

“You seriously care if they take it off our hands?”

“No, but still . . .” Cortez muttered as she sat, still glaring at no one in particular. “Kind of pisses me off that no one bothered to mention we’d have a literal army marching in. You hear what they’re doing to the bunker?”

“What?”

The bunker was a huge, empty area full of tunnels and worn cement. It was supposed to be nuke proof, but now, it was mostly used for storage. Summers couldn’t see any reason why anyone would bother with it.

“I don’t know. They’ve taken it over. That’s why I’m asking you. You’re buddy buddy with people. They haven’t given a briefing or anything?” Cortez inclined her head toward him.

Summers chewed his food slowly.

“Even if they did, I couldn’t tell you.”

“Can’t or won’t?” asked Cortez.

“Both?”

Cortez considered that, then kicked Summers under the table, not lightly.

“The fuck was that for?” Summers grunted, instinctively reaching for his leg before remembering there was a table in the way and nearly slamming his head into it.

“Because I can get away with it. And because you’re an asshole,” Cortez replied.

“She’s right. You are kind of an asshole.” Summers turned to find Nowak sitting beside him.

“How am I the asshole here?” Summers asked.

“Oh, I have no idea. I just know you don’t piss off Cortez. Ain’t that right, Cortez?” Nowak turned to the smiling woman.

“So that means you know what’s going on?” Cortez asked.

“Again, no idea, and if you kick me, I’ll have you cleaning toilets for a week.” Nowak smiled back. Cortez looked at him as if she was still considering it.

“But our good friend Summers here will be watching those doors tonight, so if he sees anything, I’m sure he’ll be smart enough to keep his mouth shut,” Nowak added, not so subtly shifting Cortez’s attention back to him.

“Why me? They’ve got a full platoon for guard duty,” Summers said.

“Because those are your orders.” Nowak smiled again, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>

Summers stood at the doorway to the bunker, M4 in hand, freezing his ass off as soldiers he didn’t recognize came and went. For whatever reason, they kept to themselves, just showed their ID and stepped through the surprisingly heavy metal doors. They never said a word.

These were not the type of soldiers Summers was used to. These guys walked around like they knew something he didn’t. Which, for all intents and purposes, was probably true, but it annoyed him that they felt the need to broadcast it. Summers wasn’t a curious man by nature, but throughout the morning, and most of the afternoon, he’d watched as they hauled all sorts of boxed-up equipment into the bunker, unloading literal truckloads of cargo. At one point, he’d thought they might run out of space, but it just kept coming. He couldn’t help but be a little curious, though now was not the time to scratch that itch.

“What do you think they’re doing in there? Heard it was a UFO. Saw a guy in a suit—think this is some Men in Black shit?”

Summers turned to see the man he was guarding the door with—a youngish, red-haired private by the name of Adams—looking at him quizzically. He hadn’t really spoken to the kid before, and with the amount of people who probably outranked his CO heading in and out of the bunker between them, he figured it was a bad time to start. Last thing he wanted was to get written up and stuck somewhere even more cold and remote. Maybe the South Pole?

“Keep your mouth shut and eyes forward,” Summers replied. Adams watched him for another beat.

“You’re kind of an asshole, you know that?” Adams observed.

“So I’ve been told,” Summers stated flatly.

Things started to quiet down after that. The trickle of soldiers stopped, and for a few hours, it was just Summers and Adams in the cold dark. It was a little strange, now that he thought about it. Summers had seen a ton of people coming in, and only a few going out. Usually just to bring in some new cargo a few minutes later.

Then there was a pop from inside.

Adams quirked his head at the noise. “You hear that?”

Summers debated whether he should ignore the private, but then another pop got his attention. No, not a pop, that was an M4. Then another. Soon, the unmistakable report of automatic gunfire was leaking through the thick metal door at their backs. Did one of those assholes go postal?

“Get my six. And do not fucking shoot unless I do first.” Summers laid his hand on the lever that would open the door, weapon at the ready. Whatever was happening, he needed to make sure they saw it coming before it was at their backs.

Just as he cracked the door open, it exploded outward.

The last thing Summers heard before the inky blackness of unconsciousness washed over him was an inhuman scream.

Chapter 2: That’s Different

“We’ve got to get out!”

Summers heard a woman’s voice yelling beside him. His eyes snapped open to find Adams holding the barrel of his M4 aimed at the chest of a fully naked, and heavily injured, woman in the doorway.

“What?” Summers heard himself say.

“Ma’am, I need you to stay back!” Adams said, backing up himself. The woman, however, either didn’t care about the