19
LOKAN
The safe house creaked with age as Lokan walked across the floorboards to finish packing their belongings.
Through the grimy window, he could see the rising sun over the Mongolian steppes, and somewhere in the distance, a dog barked, welcoming the new day.
The family who owned this place had been gone all night, just as Turner's contact had promised, but they were supposed to return by midday, and it was time to move.
"Check weapons, documents, and supplies," Grant said from the main room. "Make sure nothing gets left behind."
"Don't leave a mess," Carol added. "These people don't have a maid to tidy up after us."
Lokan zipped the backpack closed and glanced at her. Even after a night of rest, shadows lingered under her eyes. The tension was taking its toll on her.
"Ready?" she asked after making the bed.
He nodded. "You?"
She shrugged. "As ready as one can be for sneaking across international borders while being hunted by enhanced killing machines."
"When you put it like that, it sounds almost exciting."
She smiled. "Darling, your idea of exciting needs work."
When they walked into the main room, Grant looked up from the topographical map that was spread across the kitchen table. "Good timing. We need to discuss the route."
Lokan joined them at the table, noting the various markings on the map. The official border crossings were circled in red, with X marks through each one.
"Turner's contact supplied intel," Dougal said. "Suspected mercenaries have been spotted at every major crossing point between here and Kyakhta. They're not even trying to be subtle about it. It's like they want you to know they're there."
"They are herding us." Lokan studied the map. "Trying to force us into a specific route where they can ambush us."
"That's what we were thinking," Grant said.
Carol leaned over Lokan's shoulder. "What's the alternative?"
Dougal traced a finger along the map, following a winding route through what seemed to be empty terrain, but then most of Mongolia was like that. Mountain passes. "This region here is too tricky for vehicle passage, so it's likely to be ignored."
"Ignored by whom?" Lokan asked. "The Mongolian border patrol?"
Camden nodded. "Yes, and I bet your father's minions will not bother for the simple reason that there are too many of thosemountain passes, and they don't have enough enhanced fighters to cover each one of them in addition to the regular border crossings, even if they pair them with normies. Smugglers have been using these routes for decades. Drugs going north, weapons coming south. It's rough terrain, but passable if you know what you're doing."
"And do we know what we're doing?" Carol asked.
Grant's grin was sharp. "I've been through worse. At least here we don't have to worry about IEDs."
"Just enhanced immortals who can go weeks without sleep and are resistant to mental manipulation," Carol said dryly. "That's so much better than improvised explosive devices."
Grant shrugged. "At least you can see the enhanced Doomers coming."
"True," Carol conceded.
"Since the van can't make it through the passes," Lokan said. "We'll be on foot for parts of it. We'll have to leave some of our things behind."
Dougal looked up from the map with a triumphant smile on his face. "Not necessarily. We can use motorcycles—dirt bikes that are built for rough terrain." He tapped a spot on the map. "Starting here, we can make the border in about four hours if we push hard."
"Motorcycles," Carol repeated. "Because nothing says 'stealthy border crossing' like the roar of engines in mountain passes."
