Oliver Invictus (Annals of Altair Book 3) by Kate Stradling

Author:Kate Stradling [Stradling, Kate]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Eulalia Skye Press
Published: 2019-09-17T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 19

Easy Target

Tuesday, February 26, 6:23 AM PST, Prom-B

In the end, they returned to Prom-B. Oliver was locked inside a dorm room right next door to General Stone’s. A quick inspection of the space revealed three surveillance cameras, a window that was bolted shut, and zero access to the hall outside.

In other words, if the dormitory caught fire, Oliver was as good as dead.

By this point, he was too exhausted to care. He had enough presence of mind to kick off his shoes before he collapsed upon the bed. He was asleep almost the instant his head hit the pillow.

He remained in that state for, perhaps, a luxurious two or three hours.

“Don’t you have other nulls you can use,” he complained when Stone’s driver, Doyle, awoke him at the crack of dawn.

“Not on site,” the soldier said. “Your breakfast is here. Eat it quick. I’ll be back for you.”

Oliver drifted off to sleep again instead.

Doyle returned ten minutes later and dragged him back among the living. Oliver carried his breakfast tray with him as he shuffled toward General Stone’s makeshift base of operations down the hall. Inwardly he battled a combination of bitterness and a most primal desire to sleep. They didn’t actually need him in the same room as anyone else. His null-projection blanketed the whole campus, as best he knew—so long as he was awake.

Much as he wished they would leave him in his borrowed dorm room for the day, it was impossible. They couldn’t keep coming and waking him up.

General Stone watched him trudge in. “Give the boy some coffee,” he said.

Oliver received the drink with distaste clearly written on his face. Its bitter smell reminded him of refried beans.

“Drink it,” Stone commanded.

He obeyed, but he hated every swallow.

As the caffeine worked its way through his system, his senses perked. A light buzzing sounded in his ears, but he was able to focus his thoughts, at least.

Someone had pinned a map to the opposite wall. It showed the greater Seattle area, with four different sections shaded in red to signify the four projections from the night before. Red string from each of these sections led to a notecard that described the specifics of each incident: its starting time, duration, extent, and ending time, as well as any injuries or casualties.

General Stone had ordered a news blackout for all of the events. NPNN, on a screen mounted in one corner of the room, was reporting nothing that concerned riots or destruction in the State of Washington.

Veronica Porcher did have a new story, though, according to her subtitles. There had been a kidnapping. The victim was a poor, defenseless fourteen-year-old by the name of Kennedy Ross.

“False kidnapping reports haven’t gone over so well in the past,” Oliver said. No one acknowledged that he even spoke those words aloud. He didn’t bother repeating them. During his first encounter with General Stone, Altair had turned a false kidnapping story back to the government’s disadvantage. General Stone was not the type of man who would countenance having his nose rubbed in past failures.

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