He reached the elevator, stumbled inside, and smacked the button to close the door. As it slowly slid shut, he spun to look down the hall.
Nobody was in pursuit of him. The hallway was empty and silent. Oswald sat slumped and still against the lab, his neck canted forward, chin resting on his chest.
By some stroke of luck, Oswald’s weight against the door had kept the infected from shoving it open and bursting into the hall. They wouldn’t remain contained much longer though. A muffled scraping sound drifted to him as the lab door inched open. Oswald’s body slowly slid to the left, and he fell over, his temple thunking against the floor.
Oswald made no sound as he fell. Clark couldn’t tell if he was breathing. Was he alive, or dead?
Did it matter?
Just before the elevator door slid shut, Comfrey sidled through the narrow gap between the edge of the door and its frame and stepped over Oswald’s limp body.
Chapter twenty-eight
Day 33
Shadow Mountain Base, Alaska
Wolf walked the corridors of Shadow Mountain with a heavy stride and even heavier heart. He needed sleep, but knew sleep would not come. He’d been the last to step off the Chinook on its return to base, waiting until all his weary warriors had piled off the chopper and vacated the air hanger.
It was a painful thing to see such weight and guilt on the faces of his men after anaggressthat had held no danger for anyone…other than those who’d crewed the Harbinger.
His warriors were good men. The massacre of innocents did not sit well with them—even though they’d all eventually agreedthat the missile strike was necessary. They could not chance the infection on board spreading. And while O’Neill had raised valid points about what might happen at the bottom of the ocean, those points had been based on speculation. They didn’t know whether the nanobots would infect marine life. If they’d been programmed to only infect humans, perhaps they couldn’t infect other forms of life. Aiden didn’t remember any animals being infected in Karaveht.
What they did know, without doubt, was that infected humans could infect more humans. They had proof of this stumbling around the base’s isolation chamber.
Still, Capland, whose mind always ran many steps ahead of everyone else, had foreseen the possibility of marine life feasting on the infected humans. As such, he’d brought a machine on theaggresss.One that utilized loud, low frequency sounds meant to drive marine life away. He called it a low frequency transmitter—or LFT. As a precaution, when they’d launched the ballistic missiles at the Harbanger, they’d launched the LFT as well, which had an impact radius of hundreds of miles. If the Harbinger’s crew were still active on the ocean floor, they’d have to scuttle hundreds of miles before reaching marine life.
In the end, after endless discussions and arguments—mostly from Rawlings—Wolf was the one ultimately responsible for sinking that ship and drowning its crew. He’d made many difficult decisions in the past, but this was by far his heaviest. Partly because he’d been forced to reach that decision on his own. No counsel from theTaounaha,or the Shadow Warrior.
He could only hope the decision he’d reached had been the correct one.
The strike of his boots echoed with each step. The weight of each stride dragged at him. His shoulders felt thick and heavy, impossible to keep upright. The lack of a workingTaounahawasa painful itch that sank through his bones and into his soul.
It would have been easier to target that ship and crew for destruction if he’d had theTaounaha’svoice in his ear and the Shadow Warrior’s wisdom to guide him. But he’d been working voiceless, earless, and wisdomless.
It was not a position he wanted to find himself in again.
Aiden needed to step up and accept some of this burden.
When he reached his quarters, he pressed his palm against the security panel and stepped inside, navigating the darkness by muscle memory rather than sight. In his bedroom, he stripped off his clothing, entered the small bathroom, and stepped into the shower. The hot, searing spray and thick cloud of steam soothed his tight muscles and even tighter lungs. He stood there, head bent, palms braced against the wall, and let the water punish him. Wash away the guilt.
He'd taken plenty of lives before. But they’d never been innocent ones. They’d never been sacrificed for the greater good. He wasn’t sure the Harbinger decision was one he could live with.
Perhaps he shouldn’t try.
Perhaps some actions should not be easily taken or lived with.
In the past, if theTaounaha’swisdom was of no comfort, he would have sought Samuel. Hishee-javaaneewas gifted with great insight and the ability to see things from a unique perspective.
But Samuel was as lost to him as Benioko.
Eventually, remaining beneath the hot spray felt like wallowing in his guilt. Lifting his head, he pushed away from the wall and turned the water off.
It was 9 am, far enough into the morning to visit hisanistaaand Jillian before falling into bed. He exited the shower, pulled on a clean pair of tactical pants and a black t-shirt, and sat down to pull on his boots.
The bed, with its tidy blanket and pillows, conjured daydreams of tangled bodies and silken skin. The fantasy tightened his sack and hardened his cock. It had been years since he’d found release in a woman’s warm clasp. Since before Jillian’s advent in his life. The heaviness of his loins spoke of thirst during a drought. Not that he would find ease with his shadow-trappedle'ven'a.Yet no other woman caught his eye or cock.
His was a priest’s life, although not by choice.
