Mercury Striking (The Scorpius Syndrome #1)(59)

The kid at the door sucked in air. “They’re just families, sir.”

“You’re excused,” Lake snapped.

The kid wobbled and then disappeared.

Lake shook his head. “The kid can shoot but lacks mental strength. He was a college kid before Scorpius.”

Bret gripped the letter opener. “You can strip him down mentally and retrain him. I have confidence.”

“Yes, sir.” Lake’s head lifted at attention. “About the five families. At some point, we’re going to rebuild society, and we’ll need, well, civilians. For the menial work.”

True. Bret sighed. “To imagine that one year ago, the United States had more than 300 million citizens.” Scorpius had truly thinned out the herd. “Now we have, what? Much less than 1 percent of our population survived; even fewer have not yet been exposed to Scorpius. At our last guess, we still have maybe five hundred thousand citizens spread throughout the country.” Many of them farmers who were off the grid and far enough from cities not to be infected. “We can take out five families who dared to help Lynne Harmony.” They were lucky he didn’t order them tortured first.

Lake nodded. “Yes, sir. Speaking of countries, any news from abroad?”

“No.” Bret swallowed. “We have no idea of the status of North Korea, Russia, or even the Middle East. They closed their borders when Scorpius began to spread, and I haven’t heard whether they were successful or not.” He needed more troops and now. “We have to assume they contained the bacteria better than we did, and at some point, they’ll attack us.”

Lake shook his head. “With all due respect, I don’t believe anybody contained Scorpius. At least we have several pilots and secured planes.”

“I know, but fuel and maintenance are issues.” Bret twirled the letter opener. “Scorpius swept through our military bases as quickly as it did the cities. We were not prepared.” Now that he was president, he’d do a much better job of keeping his people alive.

There was a reason he’d lived when so many others had died. He’d fulfill his purpose. He was born for this.

He reached for a map to spread on the desk, eying the circles around various known survivor groups. “These are the groups we know have some sort of leadership.” And fighting ability. “When we have time to focus, we should take out the Mercenaries.”

“Yes.” Lake glanced down. “After we secure Lynne Harmony, we’ll double our efforts to reach out and start rebuilding the rule of law. Right now, these rogue gangs are living under their own leadership. That must stop.”

Bret tapped a finger on Los Angeles. “Any news about L.A.?”

Lake nodded. “From our ham radio contact, it seems the same. Several rebel groups vying for food and resources, the most powerful still being led by Jax Mercury.”

Ah, the special-ops soldier who had banded together a group in L.A. while there was still television and Internet. Known for his skills and brutality dealing with the enemy, he’d become almost a folk hero in less than a month, and everybody had been warned to stay out of L.A. if they didn’t want to join his Vanguard group. Bret rubbed his chin. “After we find Lynne, we should reach out to Mercury. He’s still in the service and will follow orders.”

“Yes, sir.”

Bret eyed the door. “Dismissed.”

Lake made a perfect pivot and marched from the room.

Bret stood and reclaimed the letter opener while igniting a lantern as he moved. He might not have Lynne yet, but he did have a woman to deal with. His boots clomped on the dusty tile as he walked through the kitchen to a small doorway for a storage room for pool items.

Now a woman sat in the corner, a chain around her ankle, her hair falling into her face. She lifted her head when he set down the lantern, hazel eyes blinking awake.

He let the letter opener glint in the muted light. While he didn’t like this part of his job, he’d do whatever was necessary to lead the country. “Did you have a nice nap, Vivienne?”

She didn’t answer. A bruise spread an angry purple and yellow across her cheekbone from when he’d lost his temper the day before.

He peered closer. When he’d kidnapped her, she’d been wearing a gray suit with skirt and red high heels. The shoes she’d lost, and the skirt was more brown than gray now. Yet he left her in it as a reminder of who she used to be. “Are you ready to tell me where Lynne Harmony is?”

“Fuck you,” Vivienne said without much heat. Exhaustion lined her dirty face, and scratches marred her bare legs.

“Okay.” He smiled and stepped closer.

Her head snapped against the brick wall. “Lynne Harmony, Lynne Harmony, Lynne Harmony.”

His dick instantly went limp. Fury bit into him with the heat of a thousand fires. “You fucking bitch.” He kicked out, nailing Vivienne in the calf.

She cried out and drew her legs closer, but triumph glittered in her eyes. “Oops.”

Smart. She’d figured out right away how to keep from getting raped. He smiled. “My heart might be with Lynne, but I could have ten soldiers here in a minute to fuck you to death.”

“Your penis, not your heart, is obsessed with Lynne.” Vivienne coughed. “I’ll tell your men you can’t get it up.”

That was only one of the reasons he’d spared her, but at some point, he was going to shackle her, spread-eagled, and watch every single man in his command take her. For now, he’d continue his campaign to break her. He glanced at the bucket in the corner serving as her toilet. “Where’s the Bunker?”