To his relief, his parents followed his orders, moving into the building, weapons high and ready … like people trained to handle weapons. Trained to kill. He forced the thought of his mother killing a man from his mind and joined the men at the line.

“Where’s my team?” he shouted to Jeff Kafer, a fellow Delta team leader with a blond mop of hair and a thick mustache. He didn’t know him well, but Rook and Kafer were friends. Both were loud and liked to tell jokes at the bar. Both had several sisters. And both loved their weapons like children.

“Not on base, King,” Kafer replied. “And you know I don’t know where.”

“Have you seen Fiona?”

Kafer motioned toward the garage fifty feet behind them. “Saw Aleman back there. Looks injured, but he might know.”

“Here it comes!” one of the men shouted.

Kafer raised his voice to make sure everyone heard him. “Wait on me!”

The line took aim at the charging mass of stone and waited.

King did not. He turned and ran for Aleman, who he could see slumped against one of the large garage doors, a smear of blood stretching down to the back of his head. He didn’t get ten feet before Kafer yelled, “Fire!”

The air filled with the sounds of launching ordinance one moment and a rapid succession of explosions the next. King turned and saw the giant creature charging through the onslaught. Several explosions sent pavement flying into the air. Direct hits shot chunks of its body flying. A few misses shredded parked vehicles. Despite the brute force of the attack, the thing showed no response, felt no pain. It simply charged forward. When one of its legs burst free, it ran on three.

It wouldn’t be stopped.

As the line of men realized this, and knew just as surely that they couldn’t get out of its way in time, they raised their arms and turned their heads, as a natural reaction to being trampled. King raised his M4 and fired, just as the beast reached the line of men.

But the useless bullets King fired never hit their mark. Instead, they sailed straight through a cloud of dust that burst out and over the line of men. The giant had disintegrated. Whether from the attack or some other reason, King didn’t care. It was gone, and Aleman was down.

As King rushed to Aleman’s side he heard the pop of gunfire cease around the base. The battle was over.

“Lew,” he said, kneeling down by Aleman’s body. “Lew, wake up.”

Aleman’s eyes blinked open. “King…”

“What happened?”

Aleman tried to sit up, but a stab of pain kept him down. “Took a hit to the head. Shrapnel I think.”

“Where’re the others?”

“Gone,” Aleman said.

“Fiona’s with them?”

Aleman frowned and King knew the answer before the man said the words. “They took her.”

King clenched his fists. Fiona was gone.

His daughter was gone.

At that moment all of King’s fears became realized—Jack Sigler never would be, nor should be, a father. And if he were somehow able to bring her back alive, he would find a better, and safer, home for her. King picked up his friend and headed for the barracks where a makeshift triage was already being set up.