We climb the stairs. The beautiful antiquity of the building is quickly becoming ravaged. The second floor is on fire. Hot, suffocating smoke fills the hallways. Omega soldiers stumble around in the dim lighting. Uriah pops a few rounds into the halls and brings them down. We search the rooms. There are two officers. Uriah and Chris put an end to them immediately.
I turn away, pausing at the door.
Harry will be up high, I think. He’d want a good view of the harbor and the fight in the parking lot. He’d enjoy the show.
“He’s on the top floor,” I say.
I look at Chris.
He doesn’t ask me to elaborate. He knows. He understands.
We both do.
We leave this level and clear every floor until we hit the top. I get a light, fluttering feeling in my stomach. Anxiety? Nervous energy? I don’t know. Maybe it’s a premonition. Maybe I understand, deep down, that what’s about to happen will change me dramatically.
I can’t put the feeling into words. It simply is.
As I step onto the top floor, time seems to slow down. There is a long hallway and rows of doors. I know, somehow, that Harry is in the room on the end. The one that overlooks the parking lot, the pond and the harbor in the distance. Harry Lydell, the man with the flair for the dramatic.
He would want a front row seat for the Battle of Monterey.
Uriah, Chris, Andrew and Vera go ahead of me and check the rooms. There are no more officers up here. The floor is empty. I walk forward, gripping my rifle. I stand in front of the last door on the row. At the end of the hall is the emergency exit and access point for the roof.
I kick in the last hotel door. My team is with me, moving into the room in formation. I’m first, Vera is second, Chris is third, Manny is fourth and Uriah and Andrew follow. We pour into the room, prepared for a fight. But there is nothing. Nothing but a wide open suite with a bed, a desk, and big windows overlooking the school property and the distant Pacific Ocean.
The corner window has been shattered with a gunshot.
We search the room. My heart sinks. I was so sure that Harry would be up here. I mean… he could be in another building… but most of them have already been searched. Did Harry leave Monterey? Did he know what was going to happen? Did he have a feeling that the militias would win this fight?
No. He was sure Omega was going to wrap this thing up.
I turn and run, hurrying into the hall, pushing open the door to the roof. I climb a few narrow stairs and emerge into the night. The air is cold. It feels good against my hot, sticky skin.
And there, on the edge of the roof, is Harry.
He is standing with his hands clasped behind his back, a serene expression on his face. He looks satisfied, expectant. He turns from the scene on the school property, away from the billowing smoke. Some of the trees around the pond have caught fire. From here, I can see the bursts of light from the south and north sides of the city, where Anita Vega and Marshal Sullivan are engaging Omega with their militias.
“Harry,” I say.
My voice is dry, raspy.
A cruel smile twists his lips.
“Cassidy,” he says. “You’ve killed my snipers.”
Dead Omega snipers lay strewn across the roof, weapons loaded in their hands.
“You lose,” I say. “It’s over.”
Harry doesn’t respond to that. He simply looks at Chris.
“Commander Young,” he continues. “How nice for you to grace us with your glorious presence. If I’d had my way, you’d have been executed long ago in Los Angeles.”
“Sorry I screwed up your plans,” I say.
But of course, I’m not sorry at all.
“Harry,” Manny states. “You’re every bit as scrawny as they said you’d be.”
I remember that Manny has never seen Harry in person — only heard about him. Harry ducks Manny’s insult and surveys the six of us.
“If I’m going to die,” Harry says, “you’re going to die with me. It’s only fitting that we all make the ultimate sacrifice for what we believe in.”
“You’re the only one who’s going to die today,” Chris says.
He raises his rifle, aims it at Harry’s skull.
I remember Chris’s promise, The next time you and I meet, I’m going to kill you.
Those were words uttered before a devastating battle not more than a month ago, before Chris was taken as a prisoner of war, tortured and interrogated by Harry for weeks.
I look over the edge of the rooftop.
The battle is winding down below us. Our forces have taken the school, and I know that the National Guard and Army troops that have been taken prisoner are being set free. They are adding to our numbers.
The United States Air Force should be here any moment, setting fire to the four empty Omega warships that are floating off the coast of the bay.
It hits me.
“Chris,” I say. “He’s got something planned.”
Harry looks at me, sly amusement dancing across his features.
“Do I?” he asks.
“Believe me,” I say.
You’re going to die with me, Harry said.
He was so calm when he said it.
“Kill him,” Uriah tells Chris. His voice is dark, his face tight with anger. Vera and Andrew are glaring at Harry. He is, after all, the epitome of what it means to be a traitor… the physical embodiment of Omega.
“You’ll kill me,” Harry says, leaning against the roof railing. “And then what? Omega will continue to grow. You think that by pushing us out of Monterey — temporarily, I might add — you’re going to stop the invasion? The Pacific Northwest Alliance will not save you. Nothing can save you. You are doomed to failure and destruction. We will lay waste to this country you so dearly love, and we will rebuild. The New Order will reign supreme, and parasitic rebellious scum such as yourselves will be extinguished.”
Chris’s eyes are glazed over with fury.
Here stands Harry Lydell, the man that has caused him more pain than Omega itself in many ways. I can tell that it’s taking everything in him to restrain himself from pulling the trigger.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Vera demands. “What’s the New Order?”
“It is Omega. Omega is the Order.” Harry smiles sickly. “We are one and the same, unstoppable. Destroying our armies and killing our leaders will do you no good. Omega is a seed, an infection. It affects every level of society on earth. There is nothing you can do to stop us.”
His words send an arrow of fear into my heart.
Is he telling the truth? Or is he just trying to intimidate us?
“You’re lying,” Andrew says. “That’s impossible.”
“Impossible?” Harry laughs. “Really? Do you really think that the EMP was a direct result of an attack from a nation like Iran or Syria? Omega is more deadly than any foreign enemy, because we attack from the inside. We are like a finely organized, brilliant and deadly parasite. We require a host, and as we poison their body, we rebuild on their remains.” He sees the fear in my eyes — the horror — and he flashes his teeth. “Yes. You should be afraid. You cannot run from us. We are inside you. All around you.”
I take a sudden breath.
The traitors in the ranks. The assassinations. The forces that betrayed us during the Battle of the Grapevine. The mysterious betrayal of my location on the Golden Shark. Jonas, a seemingly random fisherman, handing me over to my mortal enemy.
And in an instant, it all comes together like the pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. Still slightly fragmented, but the picture is clearer than it has ever been before.