Prologue
Dying for the Thrill of It
He spat out blood,the taste more chemical than iron. It coated his tongue and teeth, a sticky reminder of the failure his team had walked into blindly. Memory was hazy on the brink of death, but he remembered their screams more than his own.
He tried to swallow, but his throat refused to work, just like the rest of his body.
Everything but his fingers.
Those, he dug into the dry dirt, each twitch feeling as if the skin was being flayed off bone layer by layer. The heat at the tips of his fingers wasn’t normal, but he couldn’t tell what it meant. His mind was a mess from the lingering agony he still hadn’t clawed his thoughts free of.
The backs of his eyelids were a bright red from the sunlight, or the hell he was dying in—he didn’t know which. He took a breath, nearly choking on the dust that suddenly churned up all around him. He thought the heavy thrumming in the air was his heartbeat until the sunlight was blocked out by a shadow.
He tried to move but couldn’t make his hands let go of the earth as the world spun all around him, making his stomach twist deep in his gut. One eyelid was pulled back, and light stabbed into his brain like a hot knife. He thought he made a sound, but he couldn’t be sure as bloody saliva bubbled and popped against his dry lips.
“Base,” a voice said, crackling as if spoken through a speaker. “Base, do you copy, over?”
The light moved away, leaving behind bright spots that floated across his vision. They eventually coalesced into a blurry, hooded figure that didn’t seem human.
“We have one survivor.”
AFTER
2287
___________________
1
Time Won’t Pass by Slow
Washington,D.C. was a swamp on the best of days—both politically and when dealing with the weather. The mugginess at the end of May spoke of a hot summer ahead on both sides of the Atlantic Ocean.
Colonel Liam Wessex exited the private jet at Washington Dulles International Airport and started down the stairs, sweat already sliding down the back of his neck. The row of black SUVs sandwiching a luxury sports car waiting for him on the tarmac at the private terminal was unsurprising considering who was meeting him.
“Don’t you have last-minute wedding plans to go over?” Liam asked, a smile twitching at his lips.
Jamie Callahan arched an eyebrow, his blue eyes hidden behind a pair of dark aviator-style sunglasses. “You’d never let me hear the end of it if I wasn’t here to pick you up.”
“I don’t know what you’re on about. I’ve never held a grudge against you in my life.”
“The time I spilled tea in Buckingham Palace when we were thirteen comes to mind.”
“That was a one-off. Gran had just finished having her favorite sofa upholstered, and you decided to drink on it. I still get blamed for the mess you made.”
“Better you than me.”
His gran’s judgment was legendary within their family, and Liam could understand why Jamie wouldn’t have wanted to get in trouble with her when they were younger. Liam had hated having to stand before her as a teenager for punishment. Facing his parents was one thing, but getting reprimanded by the queen was an entirely different experience all her grandchildren had desperately tried to avoid.
Liam’s feet hit the tarmac, and he closed the short distance between himself and one of his oldest and best friends. He pulled Jamie into a back-slapping hug, ignoring the Customs and Border Protection Officer standing nearby.
After a moment, Liam stepped back, holding Jamie at arm’s length to study him. In the hot midday sun, Jamie looked at ease in the casual trousers and blazer he wore. His blond hair was neatly cut, no sign of a beard on his handsome face, and he looked far more relaxed than Liam would’ve thought for a man a few days away from marriage.
“You look well,” Liam said. “Civilian life driving you mad yet?”
“More like my mother is, but we can discuss the circus my life has turned into on the way home.”
“Mothers tend to do that when their only son is getting married.”
