Destin's Hold (The Alliance #5)(50)

“Eighteen…,” she whispered, blinking back the tears in her eyes. “Eighteen females are still missing.”

She closed her eyes. Her mind swirled, replaying the vidcom over and over. There was something bugging her, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Rolling onto her back, she pressed the palm of her right hand against her forehead.

“What am I missing?” she whispered, thinking about each part until her eyes snapped open. “The ring… I have to locate the ring!”

Sitting up, Sula grabbed the edge of the counter and pulled herself up. She quickly rinsed her mouth and cleaned her teeth. A shudder went through her when she saw that she was so pale, she looked almost as white as her hair. Wrinkling her nose, she shook her head and reached for the towel hanging on the bar next to the sink. She wiped her hands and mouth before pushing back her hair. Her color was slowly coming back.

“You have to pull yourself together, Sula,” she firmly told her reflection. “You are Princess Jersula Ikera of Usoleum. You have a duty and a responsibility to your people and to the women who were under the protection of the Usoleum government to find and return those females to their world. You will not fail!”

Nodding her head, she gave herself one last, quick assessment. Good enough, she thought. She did not have time to be sick. Over the next few days if she felt sick again she would take a transport over to the medical unit on the Trivator’s base and have the healer give her a booster to help prevent her from catching another horrible virus. Until then, she would have to be careful.

“Now, to see if the ring is what I think it is,” Sula whispered, replacing the towel and walking back to the living room.

Within minutes, she was gazing at the three-dimensional image the computer had recreated. She scanned all the documentation pertaining to Badrick’s remains. No ring was mentioned in the inventory of his personal belongs. She opened an image of his body laid out on a long metal table, and turned it, trying to focus on his hands, not the puncture wounds that riddled his body. She had to close her eyes and focus on her breathing to keep the nausea from overwhelming her again before she could continue. Opening her eyes, she carefully examined his hands. They were bare.

She finally closed all the files, accessed the communications array set up around the planet, and sent a message to her brother. It would take hours, if not days for him to receive it, but she wanted him – and her parents – to know that she was making progress.

Once she was finished, she quickly returned to the bathroom to refresh herself before gathering her tablet and her baton. She needed to find Destin and inform him of what she suspected. It was imperative that she return to the quarters that had been assigned to her at the former US Army National Guard building – the quarters that had once belonged to Badrick.





16





Destin stood with his back to the other men in the room. Over the past three hours, they had explained the changes that had occurred while he was gone. Most of them were in alignment with what he had set in motion before he left. Some, though, were not.

“How many are missing?” he asked in a low, somber tone.

“Ten – that we know of – who knows how many more that we don’t. We still don’t have an accurate count from the south side of the city. Colbert scared most of the decent residents into every nook and cranny that they could find. At times, it is like rats pouring out of the sewers when we go searching for them. Mason has about three-quarters of the underground system – both subway and sewer – cleared,” Tim said.

Destin turned to see their grim faces. There was no proof that the missing women Tim had just told him about were victims of a crime, but he wanted to make sure.

“What do we know? I want facts only, no speculation – yet,” Destin said.

“They were working in different parts of the city under construction. Six were working with the rebuilding. They were near the old downtown area. Three more worked in Food Services and Clerical Support, so they commuted every day to the Trivator base,” Tim said, nodding at the map showing the last known location of the women.

“What about the last one?” Destin asked, walking closer to the map to study it.

“Her name is Alissa Garcia. She’s a thirty-eight year old Hispanic female with almost ten years under her belt with the Chicago Police Department before the world went to hell. I worked with her on several cases when I was with the force. As you know, over the last year, I’ve been able to recruit those in the force that haven’t fled or died. We’ve got about one hundred and fifty of our old force back together and about two hundred new recruits that we are training. I hate to admit it, but Cutter has been a huge help in that. He has sent men to help train us on the new transports and other equipment. Alissa was working closely with the Trivators to train the recruits. She disappeared a couple of days ago. No one has seen or heard from her.”

“Who was the last person to see her?” Destin asked.

Richard hesitated and glanced around the table at the other men. His lips tightened for a moment before he released a deep sigh and glanced down at the table.

“Cutter,” Richard finally admitted with a grimace. “She was last seen with the Trivator.”

“I knew it! None of them can be trusted,” Jason exclaimed, slamming his hand down on the dark table. “They give us all of this while kidnapping women from right under our noses.”