A loud whistle caught his attention. Looking beyond the mantis, he saw Queen, XM25 aimed straight for the mantis’s back. But the high-caliber rounds would pierce the mantis and strike him as well. “Down!” she shouted.

King hit the deck hard.

The mantis struck.

The roar of automatic gunfire filled the air.

Pain lanced through King’s body, but being impaled by a score of daggers didn’t hurt as much as King thought it would. He looked up to find a bullet-ridden mantis standing above him. Its back was arched back in death. The spikes lining its forearm had merely grazed his leg, opening a shallow cut. King dodged to the side as the massive insect toppled over. He fell forward as he ducked the flailing limbs of the dead mantis. He landed hard and rolled onto his back. With the beast immobilized, he lay still, breathing hard. Anger coursed through him.

“You okay?” Queen asked, looking down at him.

“It killed Bowers,” he said. “He was a good man.”

A gloved hand reached down to help King up. “Good men die every day,” Alexander said.

King ignored his outstretched hand and took Queen’s instead. She pulled him fast. He turned to Alexander. “Not on my watch.”

Bishop arrived a moment later, KA-BAR knife drawn and ready to use. Seeing the dead insect, he sheathed the knife. “What is it?”

“A breadcrumb,” King replied. “They were here.” He pulled the ruined insulin pump from his pant pocket. “She was here.”

And with all the mantises now dead, he turned his attention to the problem still at hand. “Did I hear Knight correctly? The tower isn’t here?”

Bishop shook his head. “It’s not.”

“Shit,” King muttered, rolling his neck as it tensed. If they didn’t find Fiona and soon …

Bishop’s strong hand on his shoulder stopped his rising anger. “But I think we have someone who can point us in the right direction.”

Chapter Seventy-Three

SEVENTY-TWO

RAHIM RIFFLED THROUGH a stack of paper, looking for a map he keenly remembered but had no idea if it still existed. The four large, serious men and one woman standing behind him, arms crossed, faces grim, fueled his urgent search.

They had found him right where they left him, standing by the river. When he heard the gunfire begin he ducked down and hid at the side of the road. Not knowing what the conflict was about or who it was between, he wanted to look as innocent and nonthreatening as possible. So he waited.

But when they did find him, all of the politeness and patience was gone. They needed an answer to a single question and they wanted it now. There was no threat included with the question, but Rahim could feel the tension from the one they called King.