So, that’s what I did. Let the cops and the doctors at the local hospital figure out what happened, who gave them first aid, and what happened to their truck, because … yeah, I stole it.

Ghost slept in the camper body, and I drove. It was sixteen hours to LaBorde at posted speeds. I was pretty sure I could do it a lot faster.

CHAPTER 153

THE PAVILION

BLUE DIAMOND ELITE TRAINING CENTER

STEVENS COUNTY, WASHINGTON

Another group of Fixers was in the main turnaround, loading more crates and gear onto a truck. There were more of the fighting machines, and what concerned Top was that they had their ammunition packs already in place. That would only make sense if the machines were about to be deployed into combat.

Then Top saw the humped stack of parachutes. Personal ones—enough for every Fixer—and larger cargo chutes. Armed sentries stood guard, and HK’s last administrative assistant was there to oversee the process.

Top and Bunny watched this from the jogging path.

“Population’s getting a might thin ’round here,” said Bunny. “Guess we’re next.”

When Top didn’t answer, Bunny turned to him.

“What…?”

Top shook his head. “What the hell are we doing, Farm Boy?”

“What do you mean?”

“We got all the intel we could,” said Top, “but I’m starting to feel like the circus left town without us.”

“This was the job, old man. Watch and report.”

“And then what? Sweep up after?”

Bunny shoved his hands into his back pockets. “Hey, if you got something in mind, I’m all ears.”

“Yeah,” said Top, “I got something in mind.”

He tapped the fake mole beside his ear and opened the Havoc Team channel. “Pappy to Jackpot, hear this. I need a Q1 unit and combat pack times two. Drop in on the jogging track closest to our suite. Pappy out.”

Bunny grinned. “Well, shit, Top. Why didn’t you just say it was party time?”

CHAPTER 154

I-75 FLORIDA TURNPIKE

COLUMBIA COUNTY, FLORIDA

I called Church as soon as I got onto the turnpike. When he answered, I told him where I was going and how I’d gotten that information.

“I’ll have Scott smooth any legal issues for Ms. McGee-Thompson,” he said. “And Bug can take care of media coverage.”

“Thanks.”

“What shape are you in?”

“Vaguely human.”

“Amusing. It was a serious question.”

“I know, and that’s about as good an answer as I can give.”

“And the Darkness?”

“Sleeping, I hope.”

There was a considerable silence. “Outlaw,” he said with surprising gentleness, “perhaps it’s time to stand down and let someone else handle this from here on out.”

“No,” I said. “Screwed up or not, I’ve been making wins during this. I’ve been getting the intel that’s allowed us to see the shape of what Kuga is planning. Call me superstitious, but I need to stay in the game until the final buzzer.”