Page 68 of Shadow Boxed (Shadow Warriors #2)

Chapter fifty-four

At eight am sharp, as directed by Wolf’s text, O’Neill entered the war room.

He stopped long enough to fill a paper cup from the coffee dispenser station.

Then, caffeine boost in hand, he rounded the operations table and took a seat across from Wolf.

It didn’t occur to him until he sat down that he could have sat on the opposite side.

He wasn’t the outcast anymore. Wolf wouldn’t run him off for daring to sit next to him.

He was running with the in-crowd now.

Whoop-de-doo .

He grimaced as he sipped from the paint thinner inside the cup. What served as coffee on base was enough to wake Rip Van Winkle while serving as a cleaning agent for floors and walls. Nobody ever claimed Shadow Mountain’s coffee was tasty. But it sure worked to wake one up and brighten their minds.

And they needed all minds on deck if they were going to extricate the world from the mess Clark Nantz had made.

News of this strategy meeting had been a relief. Finally...finally Wolf must have news to share. Except—he glanced around the almost empty room. These meetings usually included the top dozen warriors on base. Yet only he and Wolf were here.

“Just us?” he asked, and took another grimacing sip from the paper cup. The coffee burned off a couple of layers of skin on its way down his throat, before hitting his stomach like an acid bomb.

“Us, Aiden, and Cap.” Wolf glanced toward the door. “Cap has been investigating the D.C. Nantz Building. He wishes to go over the results with us, before bringing anyone else in.”

“We sure we’re looking at the right building?” O’Neill asked.

Wolf shrugged. “Cap is still looking.”

“Embray wasn’t invited to this meeting?” O’Neill swallowed his surprise. Fuck, Embray was their best, possibly only, hope of containing this bot plague. Why didn’t he have a seat at the big boys table?

“He declined. Says he needs to focus on containment strategies. Says he’ll attend the next meeting when we have a location.” Wolf paused before adding quietly, “The location will affect our containment options.”

O’Neill digested that. Disappointment crested. He’d hoped this meeting meant that Capland had pinned down the labs. “Embray must be right. It’s too coincidental that Nantz moved his headquarters to a different building, leaving his flagship tower empty. The move must be zombie related.”

“Yes, but—” Before Wolf had a chance to continue, Winchester walked through the door.

The sight of the dude’s drawn, gray face stalled O’Neill’s thought process. Wolf’s too, judging by the way the dude’s voice quit working mid-sentence. Winchester swung by the coffee pot, poured himself a cup, and headed toward the table, his footsteps heavy and his shoulders bunched.

The squid did not look well. Not at all.

What’s up with your javaanee? O’Neill asked Wolf through the neural net as Winchester rolled back a chair and all but collapsed into it. Something was off with the dude. He sat like his legs had given out.

Unknown. Wolf caught O’Neill’s gaze, his eyes narrow and thoughtful.

Had Wolf seen his brother enter the room? He must have, as he’d stopped midsentence. Still, he was sitting on the same side of the table as Winchester. He only had a view of his javaanee’s profile.

Without saying a word, Winchester buried his face in his coffee cup. Something was definitely wrong with the dude. His prickly attitude would normally be choking the air by now.

His gaze narrow, his eyebrows furrowed, O’Neill studied Winchester’s lined, gray face. “What the fuck happened to you?”

Winchester ignored the question.

You said he looks unwell. How so? Wolf’s mental question was one of comparison, rather than disbelief. As though he were questioning whether he and O’Neill had seen the same things.

Looks like someone chewed him up and spit him out.

Does he look sick, as he did before?

O’Neill studied Winchester’s vacant-eyed, hollow face. His skin looked taut and gray. But there was no flush to indicate a fever. No rapid rise and fall of his chest to indicate increased respiration.

Not sick. More like exhausted. Like he hasn’t slept in days.

Perhaps Taounaha stalks his dreams again. Satisfaction rang through the neural link that stretched between them.

You gonna talk to him? O’Neill asked, his gaze settling on the blank-faced former SEAL across from him.

He will not speak to me of this. Wolf gave a frustrated shake of his head. Perhaps you will have more luck.

If Wolf thought O’Neill had a better chance of figuring out what was going on with the squid, then things had gone to hell between the brothers.

Winchester suddenly looked up, his flat gaze locking on O’Neill’s face. “You two motherfuckers can stop talking about me any time now.”

Startled, O’Neill’s eyebrows flew up. “What the hell are you yapping about? We haven’t said a damn word.”

Winchester shrugged. “Not with your fucking mouths. But your eyes keep glazing over, a sure sign you’re gossiping like a bunch of old ladies on that mental highway of yours.”

O’Neill’s mouth fell open. He snapped it back up, his gaze shooting to Wolf. “Did you tell him about the Neealaho ?”

“I did not.” Shock touched Wolf’s face.

O’Neill’s gaze shifted back to Winchester.

The revelation couldn’t have come from his squid buddies.

They didn’t know about the neural net. None of the Shadow Mountain warriors would have told him, and none of the peripheral base personnel knew about the Neealaho .

The net was something sacred. Not shared unless a warrior was bound to it.

“How the hell did you find out about that?” O’Neill asked.

“None of your fucking business,” Winchester snapped. But an uneasy expression settled over his face.

O’Neill suspected Winchester’s comment had been a test. A test he’d hoped would fail. Did he actually known about the net? Or had he simply guessed?

With a frown, O’Neill examined the squid’s face. If he hadn’t known before, he knew now.

Surprise still rode the silent room as Capland strolled through the door, his laptop tucked under his arm. He ignored the coffee and skirted the edge of the table, halting next to O’Neill.

“Am I interrupting something?” Cap asked, his eyebrows partially lifted. “Feels tense in here.”

“Not at all,” Wolf said, his voice flat, as though Aiden hadn’t just surprised the fuck out of them both.

Cap took him at his word and slipped into the seat next to O’Neill. And willingly at that, another sign O’Neill was bunking with the big boys now. Up until recently, the warriors on base avoided him, refusing to sit or stand next to him.

“Any luck with finding the labs in the Nantz building?” O’Neill asked, twisting in his chair until he could watch Cap’s profile.

“Not completely. Although all signs point to them being in his flagship tower. Judging by the elevator, and the door at the back of the hallway, which are visible on the hallway cameras, I’m guessing we’re looking at a secret basement.

” Cap pushed the laptop’s power button. “But we’ll have to do some physical sleuthing to find it.

” Once the screen flashed on, he tapped in a command on the keyboard and the overhead screen lit with the image of a blueprint.

“I’ve downloaded the building plans. Which do not list a subterranean level.

Nor do the stairs or elevators go below the lobby.

” He paused, his gaze skating between Wolf and Aiden.

“Which makes sense if the labs are secret. He wouldn’t have wanted them on any schematics. ”

“Agreed. The DC Nantz Building makes the most sense.” Wolf fell silent for a moment. Then sighed. “Embray believes this as well.”

O’Neill waited for Winchester to chip in with his opinion.

The squid had never been shy about offering his opinion.

..even when it wasn’t welcome. But this time, Aiden didn’t respond.

The dude’s silence was...unusual. Winchester had spent weeks driving for answers, driven by revenge.

And now...when they could taste the answers, his interest had died? This was not like the dude at all.

O’Neill forced his mind back to the conversation. “We can’t be sure the labs are in the Nantz Building. We’re looking at a time suck, which we can’t afford if we’re wrong.”

Cap shrugged. “True. But my gut says the labs are there. Hidden away beneath the lobby. He’d want his labs and creations nearby.

Until recently, ninety-five percent of his time was spent in DC, at the Nantz Building.

He even had a penthouse apartment there, along with his offices.

My gut says his labs are there too. And the elevator at the back of the hallway was his access point. ”

“Agreed,” Wolf said as he looked down the table. “Aiden? What say you?”

Aiden just shrugged. “Might as well start there.”

Seriously? That was all the dude had to say?

If the mouthpiece is walking his dreams again, that would explain how he knows of the neural net, O’Neill said. It would also explain the vacancy sign hanging around his neck .

Perhaps. Wolf sounded thoughtful.

“We need to access that building,” Cap continued. “Particularly Nantz’s penthouse living and office spaces. If there’s an elevator that descends to the subterranean level, we’ll probably find it there. He’d have wanted a private, quiet area for access.”

Wolf and O’Neill nodded in agreement.

“Ideas?” Wolf asked, his gaze skirting the table.

O’Neill frowned down at the table. “The building is empty now, which simplifies things. But he has full-time security teams guarding the premises. We could break in, but we’d have to neutralize the security.

Considering Nantz is missing, a security breach would be.

..questioned. We’d do better to manufacture a situation that will get us inside without anyone getting suspicious. ”

“Agreed.” Cap bent over the laptop’s keyboard.

Windows flashed across the overhead screen.

“We need a non-life-threatening, building-centralized situation. One that doesn’t involve city inspectors.

” He paused his keyboard tapping, leaving the latest window up.

Which was the schematics of the fire safety protocols.

“Like a failure in the building’s overhead sprinkler system. ”

“Explain.” Wolf leaned forward in his chair, staring at the overhead screen.

“If we turn the ceiling sprinklers on and flood every floor, we could access the building for days, if not weeks, under the guise of repairing the damage.”

O’Neill grinned. “We could go in as a construction crew sent to assess the damage and make it habitable again. Which would give us uninterrupted access to every floor. Including the penthouse.”

Wolf’s grunt sounded pleased. “Are you able to access the sprinkler system remotely?”

“Absolutely.”

Nobody looked surprised.

“We will need credentials and permissions to get inside.”

Cap’s smile was slow, but anticipatory. “Leave that to me.”

“How soon can you work up a plan to get us inside?” Wolf addressed the question to Cap, but glanced toward Aiden, as though expecting him to offer...something...an observation...a theory...a fucking comment.

Aiden didn’t look up. Just sat there, staring down. Kind of like his zombie friends in isolation.

“Give me six hours,” Cap told Wolf. “I need to check into the sprinkler system, flooding protocols, who would be called in for demolition and reconstruction. Plus fill out the permits online.” He groaned beneath his breath.

“So many fucking permits.” He pushed back his chair and shot Wolf a chin lift.

“I’ll let you know when I’ve got something we can work with. ”

Wolf nodded, but didn’t push his chair back.

Instead, he turned the seat until it faced his javaanee .

“Aiden, last night, when the Taounaha walked your dreams...when he spoke of the Neealaho, did he speak of other things? Did he foretell the location of our captive’s dead and undead, or our females’ spirit animals? ”

Aiden’s head slowly rose. Shook still rimmed his eyes.

“No,” his voice was hoarse. Lurching to his feet, he stumbled out of the room.

The squid was not taking Benioko’s revelation well.

By the time O’Neill shoved his chair back and rose to his feet, Aiden was already out the door. O’Neill scratched his chin absently, watching the dude’s broad back disappear.

He didn’t have anything on his schedule until Muriel and Gracie arrived—he glanced at the clock on the wall—in an hour.

PT was off the table, since he’d promised his daughter he’d work out with her, followed by more weapons training.

Even with the self-defense lesson, he’d promised Muriel he’d be done before Cap reconvened the briefing.

He had an hour to kill. Might as well fill it with Winchester. Maybe Benioko had mentioned something the squid had forgotten...or wanted to forget.

But when he followed his target out of the war room, the dude was nowhere to be found.