Gregory awoke tied down on a wooden surface, unable to move. Waves of agony rippled through his body, and it felt as though someone had jammed a hot poker into his stomach. His memory started flooding back, and he realized how close to the truth that was.

They went outside, where he saw two soldiers waiting, and then on down the street. His legs felt like rubber, and it was all he could do to stay calm.

Marcus pushed himself to his feet, his heart still racing from the near-death experience. The blaring alarm and flickering lights only added to his sense of disorientation. He took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves and focus on the task at hand: finding a way out of this nightmare.

Jonah waited outside the dining hall, debating internally whether his friend would be better suited discussing the situation out loud or being left to himself.  Quinn was inside, seated at one of the tables and lost in his thoughts.

“Are those the new shipping manifests?” Oliver asked. “Yeah.” “What did we get?”

“I don’t think you know what you’re asking.” “I know exactly what I’m asking for, Wade.”

The FBI showed up to the scene in Cottonwood Heights less than an hour after the attack. They flew in by helicopter and came in jeeps, surrounding the area and closing it off for investigation. They found both of the missing Air Force pilots at a local hospital.

Vivian knew they were too late to get inside without any problems: The city was locked down tight. Vivian scouted the exterior fences around the shipyard and saw that there were guards posted at every entrance and possible weak point as well as frequent patrols.

Victor saw the car approaching in the distance, kicking up dust as it went. He knew without even having a clear view that it wasn’t Francis or William driving it. It was coming too fast.